Jax pounded his helmet against his knee—as opposed to pounding his head against a tree. “Hell, no mayor and a dead county attorney. What are we getting into?”
“Opportunity, my man, opportunity. Find something legal-looking in Norton’s files, put my name on it, and I’ll take it from there.”
“His personal practice shouldn’t include the county’s files,” Jax warned. “And I haven’t decided for certain I’m buying it.”
“Buy it. You have a damned good thing going here—unless you really want the city life.” Reuben punched off.
Growling irascibly, Jax returned his helmet to his head. He had liked his city life well enough—the fancy restaurants, first-run films, leggy ladies who didn’t require rings. But he hadlikedhis restored XKE and condo, too. He’d given them up without a second thought to pursue his family’s secrets.
He wasn’t much into metaphor and allegory, but he figured that said something about him. Or the difference betweenlikeand whatever...passion? He didn’t do passion. He was an objective observer. City life and never knowing his neighbors had allowed that.
He had an uneasy notion that living with people like Evie and her family ripped objectivity to shreds. Is that what he wanted?
He kicked the Harley into action and rolled up to Ariel’s cottage. She monitored the cameras and she’d know he was here. Back in Savannah, when she’d finally started leaving the house and taking taxis, he’d hoped his sister was becoming a little more stable.
Being thrown out of the only home she could remember had been a setback.
need a pet?he texted, knowing she wouldn’t respond to anything indirect likeHey, howdy.
pet?
Any response at all indicated interest. He dug in his backpack and produced a young box turtle he’d found alongside the road. He held it up to the porch camera.
She sent him a smiley face. That was a good sign. Jax produced the fish pellets the guy at the hardware store had recommended, along with a handful of dandelions he’d yanked up. He spread the turtle buffet on the porch and set it down. The turtle poked its nose from its shell to inspect it. Jax knew Ariel was watching when she sent a hugging emoticon.
Now that he had her attention he texted:need anything?
She replied:check email
He’d been avoiding it all day. Fighting a prison sentence, his adoptive father had been sending demands for affidavits and requests for Jax to be a character witness and so forth and so on.
Worse yet, after Jax had quit the law firm, Stockton and Stockton had descended into a shambles with two of their principals gone. The firm emanated a constant stream of questions he didn’t feel inclined to answer.
Jax checked his VIP messages and found the one from Ariel.
It merely contained an attachment. He opened the file and squinted at the small newspaper headline:Mine Collapse Kills One. He wouldn’t inquire as to how Ariel accessed microfiche.
Damn and double damn. The article didn’t include much he hadn’t already ascertained, except a paean to Aaron Ives, the young man who had owned it—and who hadn’t actually died. Why had their father abandoned that damned land his family had owned? And who the hell was paying the taxes?
He sent Ariel a thank-you emoticon and shoved his phone into his pocket. He had to get back to his research. Somehow, he needed to juggle checking into George Norton’s practice, voting machines, and a thirty-year-old murder that might be related to a current one.
That required Evie’s leapfrogging mind—and apparently his non-communicative sister and a pair of hackers.
Buying a practice in Afterthought meant putting down roots, giving up childhood dreams of traveling the world in the diplomatic corp. He had more experience with the military and government now than he had in his idealistic youth. That dream was tarnished.
His thirst for justice might be better served on a smaller scale. His background wasn’t such that he might aspire to positions of government authority, with the freedom and power such positions wielded. He might, however, hope someday to become a judge and wield justice. To achieve that, he couldn’t traipse the world.
He’d got as far as he could finding clues about his dad’s death working at Stockton. Time to make the next step—going off on his own.
Settling down in a tiny town of whackos—Ariel likes it here.
Loretta was here too. He had been appointed as her guardian. Someone sensible should look after her well-being. Evie hadn’t bargained to take on a ten-year-old by herself. Even Loretta’s distant relations on her mother’s side had refused that responsibility.
Jax supposed, if he told her family about Loretta’s money, they’d capitulate—but they’d informed him they were done raising kids and would put her in boarding school. Loretta had already got herself kicked out of one school and run away from the other. She was happy with Evie and public school.
And then there was the big juicy land fraud case he could elbow into if he stayed here. Yeah, maybe it was time to start adulting, and a small town was a good place to begin.
He aimed the Harley at the bank.