“He said the mail carrier was asking Long-Haired Roger about it.” Had she really just called the man Long-Haired Roger?
A long look passed between Nate and Cam.
“He didn’t do this,” Gemma insisted. “Did you check and see where it was posted from?”
“It looks like it came out of St. Louis. But that doesn’t mean a thing,” Nate replied as he started to tape the box back up, carefully making sure he had every bit of packing material. “And I didn’t say Jesse McCann had anything to do with it.”
“But you thought it.”
Cam took over. “He’s new in town. And he’s had a run-in with the law.”
Gemma felt her fists clench. “That was stricken from his record the moment he turned eighteen. It is absolutely unacceptable for you to use that charge against him.”
“Whoa, counselor.” Cam’s hands came up in self-defense. “I didn’t say I was charging him with anything. I merely stated that he has a record, and he brought the box to you. I have to look into it. And as far as the legal records are concerned, his charges are gone. I just happen to be more thorough than simply checking what’s easily available.”
“You’re a hacker?”
The big blond deputy gave her a thumbs-up. “Hacker, profiler, former FBI agent, now small-town deputy.”
She wouldn’t have pegged him as FBI. He was too laid-back, too, well, happy. “I still don’t think it was him.”
Nate started toward the door. “I don’t think so, either, but I’ll look into it. And you seem damn ready to defend him. You two got something going on?”
Nope. Just a whole lot of hot thoughts that she had no intention of acting on. “No.”
Nate’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Because if you do have something going on, I think you should tell him about this before he finds out on his own. I’ll keep it quiet for now, but these things have a way of coming out. Men around here don’t like it when their women hide things.”
Gemma rolled her eyes. “I am not his woman. Come on, Sheriff. What century do you think we’re in? Even if we were dating, this would be my problem and I would want to keep it private.”
“Have it your way. I’ll ask him about it, but I won’t let on.” Nate turned, gesturing for Cam to come with him. “Night, ma’am.”
Cam slapped his boss on the back. “That girl is going to get spanked. I heard Jesse was the type.”
Naomi shook her head. “Damn, the men here are fine. And you just might get spanked, lucky girl. But seriously, think about this. You don’t know that man. Jesse McCann might look nice, but looks aren’t everything. The sweetest-faced man can turn on you in a heartbeat. Just be careful, okay? I’m going to go back out there or your momma is going to start asking questions. Lock your doors. Better yet, come stay with us.”
She wasn’t going to be run out of her rented, temporary home. “I’ll be fine, Na. I don’t have my gun back, but I have a whole purse full of other weapons. This isn’t the first time someone’s tried to scare me. It won’t be the last. Now go on. My cell is charged, and the sheriff and the deputy live right down the road. I’m fine.”
Naomi hugged her and left.
And she wasn’t fine. She was scared, but she was also alone so she had to hold it together.
She fell asleep wondering if Jesse had a dark side. Or if Cade was the type of man to send a woman a message to stay away.
Chapter Four
“Good morning, Gemma.”
Gemma thought seriously about hiding under her desk. Nell Flanders was the single most tenacious person she’d ever met, and she’d gone three rounds with a superior court judge. Nell Flanders had walked in every morning for the last week and placed two things on her desk. A muffin of unknown origin and a picture of a person Gemma’s former profession was—in Nell’s words—seeking to murder for corporate profit.
Calvin Township was a small town with exactly one employer, a tanning mill owned by a large conglomerate. It boasted one school, one stoplight, and twelve people with small-cell carcinoma. Given that the town only had a population of one hundred and fifty—and three of the twelve were children—it was logical that the EPA had investigated.
But they hadn’t found anything. And she was no longer even with the firm.
“This morning I have brought you a vegan cornmeal raspberry muffin. It was made with my own hands, so we can be sure it’s cruelty-free.” She placed a picture of an adorable little girl with pigtails in front of Gemma. “And this is Mikayla. Her life is not cruelty-free because Tremon Industries poisoned her water supply with chemicals and now she has tumors on her kidneys.”
God, Nell was killing her. “I feel for her. I’m sorry, but the EPA tested the site themselves. Everything was within regulations. Maybe the standards need to be tightened, but that’s not my job. And neither is this. I don’t work for Giles and Knoxbury anymore. I work here, and Nate has been very careful about his recycling practices. He does as little paperwork as humanly possible. His laziness is saving trees.”
“I resent that, Gemma!” Nate yelled from behind his halfway opened door.
Cam looked up from his computer. “He also resembles it.”
But Nell wouldn’t be swayed. “Then the EPA is wrong. Or they’re lying.”
“I still don’t know what you want me to do.”
“You’re a lawyer.”
“Yes, in New York. I’m not licensed to practice here, and the mayor came by my cabin and told me the town has a ban on practicing lawyers within the city limits. I don’t think that’s legal, but if I bring it up to a judge, I might be taken out of town, so it’s a good play.”
Nell frowned. She was a sweet-looking thing, Nell Flanders, but Gemma wasn’t fooled. There was a ruthless determination behind all her syrupiness. And besides, syrup stuck to everything, clinging and making even skin difficult to clean. “Enjoy the muffin. I have to make my rounds and then Henry and I have a protest scheduled for noon. The Stop ’n’ Shop is trying to evict a long-term resident for absolutely no reason. I have to stop it. See you tomorrow.”
Nell walked out, and Cam smiled at her. “It’s going to be a fun afternoon. She’s talking about a raccoon, you know. It’s been living in the men’s room. No one actually goes into the men’s room at the Stop ’n’ Shop because it’s supposed to be haunted, but now the raccoon has reached mating age and they get downright nasty, if you know what I mean.”
She didn’t. She didn’t understand a damn thing in this place. And she hated the way little Mikayla’s eyes seemed to be staring up at her. She put the picture in the top drawer of her desk along with Billy Sims, aged eight with leukemia, a fourteen-year-old named Sandy who needed a kidney transplant, and two twins with bad asthma. All from Calvin Township. All within two miles of the Tremon Industries plant.
“Why haven’t you thrown those pictures out?” Cam asked, his blue eyes sympathetic.
She couldn’t. Someone had taken those pictures. Someone loved those children. And she couldn’t throw out their smiling faces even though it didn’t mean anything to her own life. It didn’t. She hadn’t caused the problem. And she couldn’t solve it. “I’m worried Nell will give me a quiz at the end of the week.”
Cam snorted and reached for the muffin. She’d been tossing them Cam’s way every morning, but she slapped him away this time. Nell had made it for her. And she was hungry. Screw her diet. How many calories could it really be? It was vegan. “Get your own muffin-making stalker.”
Cam frowned but went back to his desk. He glanced out at the street and sighed. “I would argue, but that coffee you make is too damn good. The night shift is complaining, however. They have no idea how to use that monstrosity of a coffeemaker.”