He heard Zoe laugh. “The film crew alone doubled the population.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but there are a few more people I don’t recognize in town.”
“That should be good for everyone.”
“Except maybe Jo.”
“Oh, is something going on?”
Luke was quick to backtrack. “No. But a bigger population means more people to police.” And he knew for a fact that Jo was spending a lot of her time outside the station ever since Ziggy showed up.
“Then she needs to hire another deputy.”
“I think there is only so much in the budget for her.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
He didn’t want to think of the magnitude of Jo’s job. He’d seen her dressed in a uniform for years now, but never saw the cop . . . he almost always saw the chick that went to high school with them.
“So what are you doing today?” he asked, not wanting to drop the conversation yet.
“I’m sitting down with the owners of Nahana and turning in my resignation.”
Hope filled Luke’s chest like a rush of wind. “You’re really quitting?”
“I am. It feels strange. But after I spoke with Suki, I knew I was going to be okay.”
The name of her talent agent always made him grin. “What does Suki have to do with the restaurant?”
“We heard back from the publisher I liked. Guess what they are paying me for a cookbook?”
He had no idea. “I got nothing.”
“A hundred grand.”
Luke felt actual chills. “W-what?”
“I know, right?”
He slumped against the counter. “For a cookbook?”
“Yeah. It will give me an opportunity to walk from Nahana and explore for the next six months.”
“Holy cow, Zoe. What kind of money do you make?”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Never mind. It’s none of my business. I’m happy for you.”
“I have to run. Keep an eye out for my orders?”
“I will, baby. Don’t work too hard.”
Luke ended the call and lifted one of the boxes holding Zoe’s knives. He didn’t think he spent two grand collectively on all the stuff in his kitchen.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Most nights, Jo lived off microwaveable dinners and pasta in a box that didn’t require much effort.
Since Ziggy Brown returned, she spent a lot of her time, and money, frequenting Sam’s diner.
“Hey, Sheriff,” Sam called out from behind the window into the kitchen. “You’re back.”
“What can I say, Sam? I think Zoe taught you a few things back there.”
“I doubt that,” Brenda said from across the room.
Jo took a spot at the counter and greeted those she recognized. There were a few faces in the mix that weren’t familiar. Something she had noticed happening throughout the summer.
She grabbed a menu, though she was fairly certain there wasn’t anything new on the thing.
“When are you going to change some of this?” she called out to Sam.
“You get that friend of yours to move back to town and help me out back here, and maybe you can have something new.”
“I don’t think you can afford her.”
Her banter escaped right as Sheryl pushed through the two-way swinging doors that led to the back.
Her hands were full of a tub of ice.
Jo lifted her chin, made sure a smile was firmly in place. “Hi, Sheryl.”
This woman had known Jo since before she had her first period, was her best friend’s mother. The lady put her nose in the air and averted her eyes before she offered a weak greeting.
Jo counted it as a win. The last time she was in, Sheryl had completely ignored her.
As winning went, Jo had apparently sat in Sheryl’s section, so she had no choice but to talk to her.
“How does the soup look tonight?”
“Same as it has for twenty years.”
“I’ll skip it then.”
Sheryl didn’t crack a smile.
“How about an iced tea.”
Sheryl put away her pad of paper and twisted around.
Brenda moved behind the counter to grab the coffeepot. “When are Wyatt and Mel coming back?”
“Not for a week.”
“I’ve never been anywhere tropical.” Brenda hummed to herself. “Fiji . . . I hope she takes lots of pictures.”
“Me, too.”
“Think you’ll ever go?” Brenda asked.
Jo adjusted her gun belt so her .45 wasn’t digging into her waist. “And leave beautiful downtown River Bend? I’m good.”
Sam glanced through the window. “You just need a Wyatt in your life.”
“I’m too busy for that.”
“Ha!” The laugh came from down the counter.
“Grant? Aren’t you at the wrong bar?”
Grant had been known to spend a little time in the only jail cell in town for drinking a little too much and yelling at the dogs, the kids . . . and anyone who wasn’t drinking with him. The running joke in town was he needed a set of keys to the jail cell like that guy on The Andy Griffith Show.
It never really came to that since more serious overnight guests were taken into Waterville, where they had twenty-four-hour surveillance.
Not that it stopped Jo from occasionally making a kid on the wrong path spend the night in her jail. A tactic that had worked quite a bit for her dad.
“I’m on the wagon, Sheriff.”
Jo noticed the gloss in his eyes. “By wagon you mean you’re pacing yourself?”
“Well, let’s not be ridiculous.”
Jo couldn’t help but laugh.
Sheryl set an iced tea in front of her, pulled out her pad of paper again, and waited without comment.
“I’ll go with the roast beef.”
Without eye contact, Sheryl scribbled the order and tossed it in Sam’s window.
Brenda walked behind Jo and leaned in close. “Don’t take it personally.”
“Do I ever?”
“I don’t know . . . do you?”
Jo waved her off and turned to her drink.
“I have to say, Sheriff, you cleaned up really well the other night.”
“Why thanks, Sam. I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t remember the last time I saw you in something other than a uniform. You’re like a girl under all that stuff.” He waved at her as if he were washing away her badge.
“Most people in town already know that.” But thanks for announcing it to a restaurant full of them.
He winked and went back to the task of cooking.
When Sheryl placed food in front of her, Jo thanked her . . . then, because Grant grabbed Sheryl’s attention for coffee, Jo went ahead and made good use of her proximity.
“How is Zanya, Sheryl? I haven’t seen much of her.”
Sheryl quickly poured the coffee and returned the pot to the warmer. “She’s fine.”
“And Blaze? Getting big, I bet.”
No eye contact . . . her hands shook on the coffeepot.
Jo didn’t like the body language.
“He’s a big boy.”
Jo eased off. She’d found out enough for one night. Besides, Thursday morning was only a few hours away.
Everyone in town knew Wyatt Gibson and his new wife were on their honeymoon.
And since teenagers were known to liberate a little alcohol from unsuspecting homes from time to time, Ziggy made sure to keep the small town tradition going.