Full Circle (25 page)

It was a long day in court. Continuous interruptions delayed what should have been a 10:30 a.m. court appointment until 2:30 in the afternoon. At last, they called Jolene Watson's case. By that time, Josie's feet were killing her. She had chosen not to wear her Sheriff's uniform since Clay Tucker as sheriff gave more credence to his arrest of Jolene. Instead, she had chosen a power suit from her agency days, a designer suit with a streamline cut and fit. It looked good on her, and it was softened by its light green color. She had deliberately chosen the suit because its pale hue emphasized the still black-and-blue coloring of her eye and face. Unfortunately for her, four-inch heels went with the ensemble. She had not tried to disguise or subdue her bruises with make-up. She'd been tempted to use makeup to enhance the dark bruises, but had talked herself out of it. They had good color photographs of the damage Jolene had done to her, which the County Attorney would enter into the evidence log. The only indication that Josie was an officer of the law was the badge and ID she had hanging from a chain around her neck. Technically, she still was an officer as she had not turned in her badge or been debriefed from her job since she still needed access to the office paperwork. She wore dark sunglasses, which she didn't remove until after the Judge entered the courtroom. She removed the sunglasses and let everyone get the full impact of her injuries.

She let the County Attorney, John Conard, handle the matter. Josie simply sat there, occasionally leaning against her hand or rubbing her eye as if she were in pain—fully aware she was playing the game as much as her adversary.

Rick Wagner, Jolene's attorney, had his client wear a sedate dress in pale pink with her hair styled in the manner of a teenager. The attorney and Jolene's mother sat beside her as Jolene tried to play the innocent, misunderstood victim.

It didn't work. The Judge took his time, read the reports and the sworn affidavits of the Rawlings Sheriff's Department, Jolene's statements, Josie's medical reports and the county's evaluation. He studied the photographs of Josie's injuries, asked questions and inquired about her recovery.

He asked the two attorneys if they had come to an agreement on a plea bargain. They had not. Rick Wagner presented his plea for a 30-day treatment plan and a time-served judgment, citing Jolene's past work as a social worker and her lack of previous police record. John Conard presented his plea and recommendation for 180-day treatment program, and 30 days in the county jail to run consecutively. Alternatively, if the defendant refused treatment, one year in Mabel Bassett Correctional Center with no early parole. He cited her recent aggravated-assault charges and her physical and verbal assaults on police officers. He went on to cite her witnessed threats against Sheriff Raintree, charges of driving while intoxicated, and testing positive for two different illegal substances.

The attorneys went back and forth for several minutes while Josie saw Judge Maxwell looking at her intently. She had spent some time in his courtroom before. He knew her. He took a 30-minute recess to review the reports and paperwork, and when court resumed, he came down on the side of the County's recommendations. Jolene would spend six months in a rehabilitation center although he did allow the 20 days in the County lockup for evaluation to count against her 30-day jail sentence.

"Long day," Clay Tucker said, driving away from the courthouse.

Josie kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes. "I agree. Pull up to the Dairy Palace drive-thru. I could use a chocolate shake."

Clay smiled. "I'm partial to the butter pecan myself."

Settled back, and enjoying their milkshakes and the air conditioning, they talked shop, families and friends on the way out of Holbart. As they were driving out of town, Josie's head snapped around as they passed the Indigo Hotel.

"What?" Clay asked, looking over at her.

"Nothing, I guess," Jolene said, turning to face him. "I thought I saw someone I know. Have you talked to the mayor lately?"

"As little as possible. I avoid him like the plague," Clay admitted. "He's got a bug up his you-know-what about solving the Sandbox Killer case. I told him we didn't have the time, the manpower or anything else to take on a crime like that, but he's not listening. Thank God he doesn't have the gumption to try to solve it himself. He could get into a mess of trouble. Maxine Galvin says he's still getting phone calls from that California producer who wants to make a movie about the case."

"Oh, I'd like to be there if Aiden proposes that to the town council." Josie laughed. "Mrs. Freeman will eat him alive!"

Clay chuckled.

"How can they make a movie when there aren't any details available?" Josie asked, shaking her head. "Some people simply live off the misfortune of others. I cannot imagine the families of those poor girls wanting to see their deaths made into a movie. If the producers are determined to do it, though, I don't see how anyone could stop them. I'll tell you one thing, if they think they're going to film in Rawlings, we'll send their butts packing!"

Clay nodded. "The mayoral election isn't for another two years, but Maxine, you know she's my first cousin, says there's been some talk over at the town hall. Several town council members want Aiden out before that. They gave him a lot of slack when he took over for Mrs. Roland, mainly because they knew she was still running the show. However, since she had to go into that home, they think he's doing a lousy job. That isn't my opinion, but that of council members. You know Maxine doesn't mean any harm, but she is a gossip. Aiden has missed a lot of work lately. He comes in late, leaves early, and doesn't bother telling anybody where he's going. Maxine says he's not answering his phone now. He told Addie Carr, the receptionist, to let his calls go to voicemail. Maxine thinks Aiden's got himself another girlfriend. He does seem to go through them real quick." Clay briefly shifted his eyes off the road and over toward his companion. "He was tagging along after you for a while."

Josie smiled, but she made no comment. Aiden Roland had indeed pestered her for several months to go out with him after she had returned. The truth was while Aiden was a nice enough guy, he held no appeal for her. She did agree with the counsel. He was not a good mayor. He was a delegator, always wanting to push decisions that needed to be made either up or down the ladder of command. But because she wasn't attracted to him as a man, didn't mean he was unsuccessful with women. It was quite the opposite. He was a good-looking man and spent a lot of time with the ladies. In fact, she'd just seen Aiden going into the Indigo Hotel with a dark-haired woman.

Josie stood in the doorway of her library and watched as Jack stood staining the library shelving units they had installed over the weekend. He was wearing a tight black tee shirt that outlined every muscle of his chest. His jeans hung low pulled down slightly by a heavy leather carpenter's belt. She admired him for a long minute before letting out a low wolf whistle. He turned, and his eyes lit up. He returned the whistle and did a little twirling motion with one finger.

She gave a slow half turn, wiggled her butt and looked provocatively at him over her shoulder.

He grinned. "Nice legs, Doll, but you'll have to leave before my better half gets home. She's the jealous type, and she packs a gun."

"Does she?" Josie said, crossing the room, leaning over and giving him a kiss. "Does she mind sharing?"

"No, but I do," Jack responded, capturing her mouth and devouring it.

"Whoa." Josie stepped back and put a restraining hand against his chest. "I have to get changed and if you get one spec of stain on this suit, I will pull a gun on you."

"Tempting," sighed Jack, letting go of her. "Leave the heels out. I've never seen you in high-heels, and I like them… sexy momma!"

Josie laughed. "Typical guy," she taunted.

A few minutes later, Josie was back looking like herself in faded jeans with a tank top and cowboy boots. "These bookshelves look wonderful. How was your meeting with Guy Rivers?"

Jack finished the last few strokes on the unit he was staining, tossed his brush into a container of solvent cleaner and put the lid back on the varnish. "We seem like a good match. We're going to try a few partnership contracts before making any final decisions about a formal partnership. His business is growing so fast that he needs a partner, especially since he's not willing to sacrifice his family time for the business. He's taking on a renovation and restoration project in Carnegie where there are big bucks involved. The client says they like the idea of an old home, but what they are telling him, is that they want a perfect, new build-to-spec house. We need to come up with a design that gives them the modern updates they want without destroying the integrity of their one-hundred-and-ten-year-old property. How did your day go? What happened at the court?"

"Jolene Watson is going to rehab for the next six months followed by ten days of jail time. The Judge did not buy her 'poor, pitiful me, I'm a first-time offender, please-feel-sorry-for-me and give-me-a-break' act. He was all over her for verbally and physically assaulting officers of the law."

"Good. Alex called. He wants to come home. I tried to smooth things over, but we're probably going to have to take a trip to camp this weekend."

"I can't go to his camp looking like this," Josie said pointing to her face. "This is not going to reassure him."

"Be straight with him."

"Maybe we can go next weekend. I should be able to cover up the remaining bruising with makeup. I'll return his call on that number he gave you. I'll also locate his mother through the county sources and find out where they put her this time." Josie nervously moved around the room wanting to change the subject. Jack was a stickler about the truth, almost so much that it was nearly an obsession. She didn't have a problem with stretching, bending or maneuvering the truth a little to fit her needs. She didn't have a problem with a little lie when it was necessary to avoid hurting someone's feelings. It wasn't like she lied in her professional life—that she didn't do, ever. She needed something to divert Jack's attention before she got another lecture on what were only little deviations of fact.

"We need something on that short wall by the door."

Jack followed her pointing hand. "What?"

"Not another shelving unit, something more feminine. The shelving units, the coffered ceiling, even the light fixtures are all very masculine. This room needs a touch of something lighter."

"What other furniture pieces are you bringing in?" Jack asked.

"I'm planning on a large desk between the windows, somewhat masculine, but not a perfect match for the shelving—something solid in mahogany if I can find an old piece that pre-dates mahogany being an endangered wood. I want twin loveseats or large chairs with ottomans facing the fireplace, preferably leather in a light tan or a faded parchment color, solid but comfortable. I think a large flattop trunk for a coffee table between them along with a table of some kind in that corner. I haven't got the stuff yet, but that's how I see it in my head. I want this room to look like it's been here a hundred years, loved and used."

Jack was nodding his head. "Take a ride with me."

"Where?"

"My surprise."

Josie followed Jack out as he got into her truck. "I love surprises."

He grinned, spun gravel and drove a short distance to the opposite end of town where he turned down a side street and pulled into Winstead's Storage Units. He punched a combination into the automatic gate and drove inside, parking beside a huge unit. He opened the overhead door and pushed it up out of the way, flipping on the lights. Walking down a long hallway, he unlocked another overhead door and slid it up. Inside were a dozen or more pieces of antique furniture and a few lamps that could have been Tiffanys.