Zane glanced at his phone as if he was checking the time. “I don’t know. Bound to happen at some point. It’s not like he murdered someone.”
Not yet. “Zoe’s worried. Thinks your mom letting him come back is a mistake.”
With his hands wrapped around the steering wheel, Zane leveled his gaze to Luke. “Zoe isn’t—” He stopped himself. “I get it . . . but my dad . . . he deserves a chance.”
Luke felt his hands fist.
“I’d imagine you’d want to see him as a changed man.”
“Not everyone has the perfect family, Luke. Some of us grew up with less, and that shit’s stressful.”
It was obvious Zane wasn’t going to hear anything Luke had to say.
He straightened up, removed his hand from Zane’s car. “You know where I am.”
“Yeah . . . I gotta go.”
He did, wheels kicking up gravel in R&B’s parking lot.
Zoe ruined four plates and an entire pot of orange sauce for the duck before she tossed in her apron and left her kitchen.
She might be in Texas, but her thoughts were in River Bend. The good parts of her life, the crappy parts of her life . . . all of it. She sat in the break room of the restaurant, ignoring the stares of the waiters who walked in. This wasn’t a space she often occupied outside of staff meetings where she discussed the menu and had everyone try new dishes. A half an hour ticked by with her telling herself to get it together.
In the end, she removed her purse from her locker, made her apologies to her sous chef, and stepped out the back door.
En route to her favorite dive bar, she texted Felix and begged an audience. Not that she needed to beg—the man loved to drink.
Still, she sat at the bar with her purse in the seat beside her, waiting for her favorite director and nursing a rum and Coke.
“Hey, I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
Zoe twisted to see Raymond. She opened her arms for a hug. “How are you?”
“Same job, different day.” He glanced at the space beside her. “This seat taken?”
She grabbed her purse. “Soon. He isn’t here yet.”
Raymond thumbed toward an empty seat down the bar. “It’s okay . . . I can—”
“Don’t be silly. Sit. Felix is always late.”
He sat down, glanced around. “Where’s your friend?”
“My friend?”
“The blonde. The one that likes the big guys?”
“Oh, Jo . . . she doesn’t live around here.”
He lifted his chin. “Out of town friend?”
“Yeah . . . so how are you? How’s your wife?”
“Good.” He waved at the bartender. “Same, but what can I do?”
Zoe sipped her drink. “I’m sorry I ran out that night.”
“It’s okay. That looked intense. Hope it all worked out all right.”
She smiled. “Seems to be. I’ve known Luke a long time.”
The bartender made his way over and took Raymond’s order. “So, Luke . . . does he live close by? I’ve never seen him in here before.”
“No, no . . . he lives in Oregon.”
“Oregon? Really, whereabouts?”
“River Bend. Small town—”
Raymond sat up taller. “I know River Bend . . . it’s next to Waterville.”
Zoe’s jaw dropped. “You know Waterville?”
“Yeah. I had family there for years.”
“That’s crazy. Such a small world. I grew up in River Bend.”
Raymond smiled and shook his head. “What are the chances of that? How on earth did you end up in Dallas?”
The answer to that was easy, considering the time in her life that she’d left. “It wasn’t River Bend.”
Raymond nodded in understanding.
Zoe turned back to her drink and noticed how little was left in her glass.
“Can I get you another?”
“I shouldn’t, but . . .”
Raymond laughed and flagged the bartender.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Wild child turned cop . . . what are the chances of that?”
If Jo had ever felt a desire to pull her weapon on a person out of pure spite, it was when Ziggy Brown opened the door.
“Mr. Brown.”
“JoAnne Ward . . . spittin’ image of your daddy, uniform and all.” If Ziggy had left it at that, she might consider his words a compliment. Instead, he let his eyes run down her body, linger back up over her chest, then shift to her eyes.
Jo hiked her sunglasses higher and pretended not to notice.
“Is Zanya here?” Jo already knew the answer but wanted to get the man talking so she could grow accustomed to his voice . . . notice the difference if he was drinking or under the influence of something other than soda.
“She and my adorable little grandbaby are visiting his father.”
Jo wanted to heave.
“And Sheryl?”
“I’m guessing you know she’s at work. Hard to miss her car in the lot as you pass by, Sheriff.”
Well, at least he had her title right.
“And how are you doing?” she asked. “Adjusting to civilian life?”
Ziggy Brown ran both hands through his hair. The muscles across his chest flexed. “I am. I learned a lot on the inside. I have your father to thank for that, you know. He had a hand at putting me away.”
Jo took an involuntary step back before stopping herself.
The shift of Ziggy’s eyes said he noticed her hesitation.
“There’s a whole lot of preaching that happens in prison. Did you know that, JoAnne?”
“It’s Sheriff Ward, Mr. Brown.”
He put his hands to his sides. “Of course. I mean no disrespect. It’s just hard, thinking of how you were growing up, running with my daughter. You’re both so grown up now. Willful . . . anyway . . . lots of God-fearing men on the inside. I suppose that’s to be expected.”
“Are you trying to tell me you found God?”
“In some ways I do think I have.”
And in others? she wanted to ask but didn’t. He was full of shit from the snark-filled smile on his face to the way his arm flexed, holding the door.
The man was attempting to intimidate her.
“Well, Mr. Brown, I’m here to tell you that Oregon’s Department of Corrections has informed me of your parole conditions. I’ll be in constant contact with your parole officer in Eugene and will accept nothing less than one hundred percent on your part in keeping your nose out of trouble.”
Ziggy looked her up and down and made more than one hair on her body stand on end. “Is that right?”
“No wiggle room, Ziggy.” For the first time in their conversation, she used the name he went by.
He didn’t stop staring. “I’ll be the perfect little ex-con, Sheriff.” He lifted three fingers in the air. “Scout’s honor.”
With clenched teeth, she took a backward step off the porch.
It wasn’t until she was back in her car that she took a deep breath.
Ziggy stood on the porch, grin on his face, as she backed out of the drive. She made a mental note to have Deputy Emery with her on future visits to the Brown home. If there was one person she expected bad things from, it was Ziggy Brown.