Twelve
“You saw Clancy last night.”Sheriff Troy studied Jax’s nearly empty law office.
Jax sat behind the library table from Evie’s attic. The boxes of legal files that had been delivered earlier had all been removed from underfoot. His team had hauled off Norton’s more recent paper files to scan, and Jax had shoved the ancient, useless ones into an anteroom. That left little for Troy to inspect.
It hadn’t taken the sheriff long to learn about last night’s dinner. From what Jax had heard, Clancy had died at noon today and it wasn’t yet four.
If the sheriff was questioning people about Clancy, then the death had been suspicious. Since he barely knew the man, Jax didn’t think he could be a suspect. Evie and her mother, on the other hand...
“I saw him, along with everyone else in La Raison. Have a seat.” Jax indicated one of the folding chairs he’d borrowed from his landlord.
The sheriff declined. Jax didn’t blame him. Average height, gray and balding, carrying a middle-aged belly, Troy didn’t look impressive. But Jax had worked with him before. The sheriff was a reasonable man who simply wanted facts—and knew Evie’s capricious family well.
“But you were at a table with him. What did he have to say? Did it reflect his state of mind?”
“How did Clancy die?” Jax asked, in the hopes Troy might open up. He didn’t, so Jax pressed for more. “If you want to know his state of mind, then I’m assuming potential suicide?”
Which reminded him too much of Pendleton. Jax had no reason to mention that until he knew more.
Troy grimaced. “I’m gathering facts before the town makes skyscrapers out of anthills. Once news spreads, no one remembers actual facts. They just repeat the last rumor they heard.”
Jax could appreciate that. Just reading social media was a lesson in how rumor turned to gospel with repetition. Belief that they’d seen or heard it themselves, or knew someone who did, followed hard on its footsteps. Actual facts were in short supply. “Clancy wasn’t there long. He proposed a toast. He seemed interested in my acquiring Norton’s practice. I didn’t know the man well enough to understand his mood. He left without staying for dinner.”
“After Evie spoke to you.” Troy waited expectantly.
Jax didn’t want to bring Evie into this. Or Ward, for all that mattered. But if Clancy’s death wasn’t natural... “Evie simply stopped to tell me a friend was trying to reach me. I had my phone off. In passing, she mentioned Ward had filed for the mayoral election. Clancy left after that.”
The sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know how she does it, but Evie is a trouble magnet. Do you know where she is? I can’t find her.”
Probably because Evie wasn’t ready to be found. She would be gathering information and resources and shielding family. Jax had learned that lesson the first day he met her. He admired the damned woman, even when she was making him nuts. “I’ll call her.” He punched her contact number.
“Evie finally bought a phone? Just give me the number.” The sheriff got out his notebook.
“You really don’t think you’ll get off that easy, do you?” Jax let the call go through. Knowing Evie’s penchant for calling the sheriff directly—with operatic screams—Jax wasn’t about to set the poor guy up for Evie’s phone.
When Evie answered, he spoke cautiously. “The sheriff is here and wants to talk to you. Should I hand him my phone?”
She laughed wickedly. “Give him my number and tell him to call me.”
“Remember, I’m on the right side of the law. Play nice, Evangeline,” Jax warned.
“Troy is a grown man. Let him make his own choices.” She rang off.
Jax gave the sheriff her number. “It’s on your head.”
Troy scowled and plugged it into his contact list. “I don’t suppose having a phone means she’ll call 911 like a normal person...”
Jax raised his palms. “I’m just the messenger.”
“In the interest of peace...” With resignation, Troy called the number.
They could hear the phone ringing from the hall. A second later, Evie arrived in the company of two elegant greyhounds. She triumphantly punched the sheriff’s private number into her phone and beamed at them. “I’m learning to like these things.”
“One more distraction?” Jax suggested.
The light through the huge office windows was gray from building storm clouds. Evie was a bright ray of orange and yellow in the gloom. What in hell was that she was wearing? A jump suit with shorts? Probably from her aunt’s wardrobe. Jax tried to decide if it was all one piece, but he couldn’t drag his gaze from her tanned and incredibly shapely legs. Instead of her usual Keds, she was wearing heeled espadrilles.
“Maybe?” She studied the phone as if just discovering it, then beamed at the stoic sheriff. “What can I do you for? I need to take Ward’s greyhounds to Iddy for training, and she closes up in half an hour.”