On Her Father's Grave (Rogue River #1)(16)

More voices picked up the melody inside and the rest of the adults spilled out onto the deck, Debra included. Debra’s eyes were red but she held James’s hand. Eric came out and sat next to Zane.

“This almost beats the cooking,” he said in a low voice to Zane.

“You sing?” Zane asked.

“Nah.”

“Me neither. Couldn’t carry a tune to save my life,” answered Zane. He followed Eric’s gaze to where Stevie and Carly leaned against the deck rail, singing behind Bruce.

Bruce wrapped up the song with a flourish on his guitar and everyone applauded.

“We’ve missed your alto,” Bruce said to Stevie. “Nice to hear it.”

“It’s a bit rusty. God, I’ve missed this.” Her smile was a mile wide.

She took Zane’s breath away. Beside him he felt rather than saw Eric tense at the sight of the pure-looking hometown girl. She belonged on the cover of some sort of country-living-healthy-music magazine.

“Well, now that you’re warmed up, do your namesake some justice,” Bruce said. The distinct melody of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” came from his fingers, and James picked up the haunting refrain.

Stevie started to sing, and Zane knew he was in trouble.





CHAPTER 5


Stevie nodded good morning to Sheila as she headed through the small front office of the police station. Sheila was on the phone but fluttered her fingers at Stevie and rolled her eyes as she assured the caller.

“I know Jared’s driving you batty, hon, but refusing to find a job isn’t a reason we can send an officer over there.”

Thank goodness Stevie didn’t answer the phone. She wouldn’t have been as understanding.

Don’t waste my time. Someone with a real emergency might be calling.

She was more patient when she was out on a call. Some people simply needed someone to talk to. She’d refereed more domestic disputes than a marriage counselor. At first she’d felt that she should charge for her services, but she’d lost that cockiness when she got called back to the same home over and over. Clearly her message wasn’t getting through to certain couples. Or else they enjoyed a third-party witness.

She knocked on the chief’s slightly opened door and pushed.

“James?” She halted at the sight of her brother in Zane’s office.

He looked up from the cardboard box he’d been rooting through on the floor of Zane’s office. “Hey, Stevie. Do you know when Zane will be back?” James’s eyes were bloodshot, with large dark bags under them that could rival a Coach store. She wondered if he’d been up arguing with Debra. Possibly the brief reconciliation at the barbecue hadn’t lasted.

“Ah, no. I thought he’d be here by now.” It was nearly seven a.m.

“Have you seen Dad’s journals? There should be nearly five months of journals here somewhere. Mom said she wants them, and I can’t find them.” He stood and frowned as he scanned the office.

“You really shouldn’t be in here. This isn’t Dad’s space anymore.” Her voice cracked.

Sympathy filled his eyes. “I know. I waited a good twenty minutes, hoping Zane would show up. Finally I figured I’d look in the likely places. When it was slow next door at the office, I used to spend as much time in here as Dad.”

“Morning, folks.”

Stevie had felt the floor vibrate a moment before Zane spoke behind her.

“Looks like I’m late for work.”

She turned and gave him a smile as James hurried to explain why he was in the police chief’s office.

“Journals? Yes, your dad used to keep his yearly stack over here.” Zane strode to a closet and slid the door open. “Christ, what a mess. Guess this is something Roy hadn’t felt like tackling.”

Stevie looked over his shoulder and raised her brows. The shelves in the closet were packed with binders, folders, envelopes, boxes of all sizes, a cooler, a stuffed pig, and books.

“I’m sure Dad knew where everything was,” she muttered. “He didn’t seem like the most organized person, but he had a system. Too bad it made no sense to anyone but him.”

“I don’t see his journals,” James said, scanning the contents. “Maybe in one of these boxes.” He reached for a box, and Zane put a hand on his arm.

“Why don’t you let me take a look for them? I’ll try to get to it before lunch.” He held James’s gaze.

Her brother stared back, and Stevie felt the testosterone rise in the room.

“No problem,” said James, moving his arm out of Zane’s grasp. “Let me know so I can return them to Mom.”

He nodded at Stevie and left the office.

Silence hung heavy in the room as Stevie and Zane looked at each other.

“Did I offend him?” Zane asked.

“No, I think you surprised him. He’s used to getting his own way. But he knows he shouldn’t be snooping around in here. Even if it is for Dad’s stuff.”

Zane scratched at his neck, thinking. “I like your brother. But he was overstepping his bounds. Even as mayor and son.”

“I agree.” Had he expected her to take James’s side?

“I was going to ask you if you wanted some of the personal pictures in here.” Zane nodded at the wall behind her, and she turned to see a picture of Dad, Carly, and herself. “I kind of like them. I think they show a history of the office and the town. But they belonged to Bill, not Solitude.”