She’d kept to herself during the four-day event, venturing out to a bar near the hotel only on the final night in town. She hadn’t been looking for company. She’d wanted only to drown her grief in margaritas and then return to the hotel to pack and prepare to leave early the next morning.
She hadn’t expected Daniel to sit next to her, and she certainly hadn’t anticipated finding succor for her grief in his arms. It had been a foolish, impulsive night, and hopefully he had no idea how the unexpected sight of him had shaken her to her very core.
She shoved away thoughts of Daniel and instead spent the next hour focused on the employment records for the eighteen men and one woman who comprised the law enforcement in Lost Lagoon, Mississippi.
Most of the deputies had been born and raised in Lost Lagoon, although there were a few who had been hired in from other towns. There were no disciplinary notes, nothing to indicate that Trey Walker had endured any issues with any of them.
But Trey Walker had proven himself to be a crook and a lowlife, and she didn’t trust his record keeping. At noon she pulled out a chicken salad sandwich that her mother had made for her before she’d left their rental home that morning.
Although Olivia had arrived in town two days earlier, she’d spent those days turning a renovated shanty on the swamp side of town into a livable space for the duration of her stay.
The place had come partially furnished, but Olivia had pulled a trailer behind her car, which had carried the extra furnishing and personal items to make their stay here as comfortable as possible.
She’d just finished her sandwich when a knock sounded on the door. She called for the person to come in and Daniel entered carrying a box. He set it on her desk.
“That’s the files on all the crimes that have occurred for the last five years,” he said.
She eyed the box dubiously. “That’s it?”
He cast her a smile that instantly shot a spark of heat in her. She’d forgotten about that sexy smile of his. “We’re a small town. Except for the last couple of months, there’s been very little crime in Lost Lagoon.”
She looked back at the box, unwilling to hold eye contact with him while that smile still lingered on his features. “That would be a daily box for Natchez.”
“You aren’t in Natchez anymore. I got hold of all the officers and they will be here at two for a meeting.”
She finally glanced back up at him. “Thank you, I appreciate the cooperation.”
He nodded and then left the office. She stared at the box and then set it down next to the desk. She’d take it home with her to look at thoroughly that evening. In the meantime, she had to gather her thoughts for the meeting that was to take place in a little more than an hour.
The responsibility that had been placed on her shoulders was heavy, and she was aware that many eyes would be on her work here. She wasn’t afraid of hard work and she didn’t worry about the scrutiny.
She had worked long and hard to climb the ranks in the Natchez Sheriff Department. She’d taken on cases nobody else wanted, worked harder and longer than anyone one else and had garnered not only a stellar reputation, but also dozens of honors and awards.
She wasn’t about to let this temporary stint in Lost Lagoon ruin her reputation. She would do her job here and do it well.
It was exactly two o’clock when she stood in the front of a conference room where nineteen deputies sat in chairs before her. She wasn’t nervous—rather, she was determined that all of the men would not only respect her, but also fear her just a little bit.
There was only one female deputy and she sat in the front row. According to the employment records she was forty-three-year-old Emma Carpenter and had worked as a deputy for the past ten years.
“Good afternoon,” Olivia began briskly. “As all of you probably know by now, I’m Sheriff Olivia Bradford and I’m here to ferret out any further corruption that might be in this department. Consider yourself on notice that I’ll be looking not only at your work performance here but potentially investigating your personal lives, as well.”
Her words were met with a grumble of discontent. She ignored it. As she had told Daniel earlier, she wasn’t here to make friends.
“Over the next couple of days, I’ll be meeting with each of you individually,” she continued.
“Looking for snitches,” a voice in the back muttered.
She identified the man who had spoken as a small, wiry officer with ferret-like features. She stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment, until he broke eye contact with her and looked down at the floor.
“I’m not looking for snitches. I’ll be getting input from each of you on how to make this department run more efficiently and I’ll also be looking for anyone who isn’t working in the best interest of law enforcement.” She was aware of the warning in her voice and she also knew her tough words wouldn’t make her the most popular person in the room.
Her gaze fell on Daniel in the second row. As deputy sheriff he would have worked closely with Trey Walker. Was he the upright, moral man she’d like him to be, or did he hide secrets that would put them at odds?
Time would tell. She’d already identified ferret-face as a potential troublemaker, and she had a feeling by reading Emma Carpenter’s body language that the woman was potentially a suck-up, probably assuming since they were both women they’d share some kind of special relationship.
When Olivia put on her badge, she was neither male nor female, she was simply an officer of the law. She didn’t like suck-ups and she definitely didn’t like troublemakers.
She finished the meeting by instructing everyone to go about their business as usual and then returned to her office and closed the door.
For the next couple of hours, Olivia continued to study the background checks and any other pertinent information that was in the files about the men and the one woman who would be working for her.
It was her task to find out if any of those lawmen had also been involved in the drug-trafficking scheme. It was hard to believe that Trey Walker and Jim Burns had acted all alone, but it was possible nobody in the sheriff’s department had known anything about it. She hoped that was the case. There was nothing she hated worse than a dirty deputy.
Even as she tried to stay focused on the paperwork in front of her, visions of Daniel intruded again and again, breaking her concentration.
She was still stunned that fate had brought them together again. Thankfully, he hadn’t mentioned the night in New Orleans when they’d sat in the bar and talked about jazz music and Mardi Gras. She’d seen him before at the conference, so she knew he was a lawman somewhere, but neither of them had talked about where they worked or where they were from.
They’d had drink after drink and hadn’t mentioned crime or their work. Their conversation had been superficial and flirtatious, just what she’d needed to escape the grip of nearly overwhelming grief.
What happened after they’d left the bar and gone to his hotel room had been crazy and wild and wonderful, but she’d left town early the next morning never dreaming that she’d ever see him again.
It was just after five when she decided to call it a day. She wanted to spend most of the evening going through the box of files that should hold not only information about the recent arrests of Trey Walker and Jim Burns, but also any crime investigations that had occurred under Walker’s watch.
She grabbed her purse and the box and headed out of the office. She had only taken a couple of steps into the squad room when Daniel jumped