she feared she wouldn’t.
CHAPTER FOUR
CORA HADN’T HESITATED a moment once she’d gotten inside the waiting room of Boyd Realty. She’d turned right around, made herself a nice peeky-hole between two slats of the miniblinds—which were shamefully dusty, no surprise there—and watched what was going on outside.
The trio continued their chit-chatty conversation for a few minutes. It didn’t take an expert in body language, however, to know there was no friendliness between the two younger women. They were like two cats in a box, trying to stay away from one another until it was safe to swipe, drawing first blood.
She smirked. Daneen Walker was way too uppity, to Cora’s mind, and always had been. It hadn’t helped that her daddy, Sheriff Brady, had spoiled the girl to bits when her mother had passed on fifteen years ago. Lately, she’d been darn near impossible with her claims. She’d been hinting that since Johnny was single, and she was kin, she was gonna serve as his first lady when he got elected mayor after Jimbo Boyd retired.
“Maybe cows’ll fly down Market Street one of these days, too,” she whispered sourly. Because that’d be just about the day any of those white trash Walkers got elected mayor of Joyful.
Prosecuting attorney was bad enough. But since there weren’t lawyers lining up for the low-paying job, she supposed he was the best they could do. She knew it darn near killed Sheriff Brady to have to work with the brother of his ex-son-in-law. Especially with Johnny’s reputation for going easy on the criminal element.
Cora gulped down a bit of guilt. As much as she hated to admit it, Johnny had done a good turn by her grandson, Matthew. The sheriff probably would have seen the boy sent up to juvie hall for tipping over one of the Port-o-lets at the county fair last fall. It might not have been such a fuss and bother if Deputy Willis hadn’t been inside the doggone thing at the time. Johnny Walker had worked things out with the public defender, so the boy had done some community service, but no time in jail.
Anyway, it wasn’t like the portable piss-pot had been damaged. Much. And the township should have paid little Matty and his buddies for the spectacle. Deputy Fred had put on quite an entertaining—if a bit smelly—screaming performance once he’d been rescued. It had been a darn sight more exciting than the sideshows, like the two-headed chicken—obviously a rubber toy with an extra beak super-glued to its butt. Or the hootchie-cootchie girls wagging their saggy fannies all over the midway.
“Mealy-mouthed Fred Willis probably liked getting the attention, anyway,” she muttered, remembering how quiet and whiny he’d been as a child.
Outside, she saw Daneen’s body was stiff with indignation. The snooty Frasier girl with the tattered reputation had a confident look on her face as she and Johnny turned away. Looked like the blond chippie had won this round. Cora had no love for city girls who sold dirty pictures, but it did a body good to see Daneen Walker set back on her round heels once in a while.
Sensing the scene out front was almost over, Cora let go of the blinds. She took a moment to examine the office, even peeking into the small bathroom. When she saw a telltale red wrapper floating in the toilet, she smirked.
Just as she’d suspected…Jimbo Boyd was sticking more than For Sale signs into some of the cheap real estate in Joyful. She sure didn’t suppose Daneen had been filling up rubbers and using them for water balloons.
Filing the information away into the back of her brain for future use, she stepped over to the closed door of Jimbo’s office. She heard his voice, but no one else’s, and assumed he was on the phone, arguing with someone.
Cora smiled. Lucky for her, when Mayor Jimbo argued he did so the same way he did everything else. Loudly. If she’d showed up a half hour earlier, she might of heard the mayor calling out for the lord while his fake-pearls-wearing secretary told him to be a good boy or else mama’d have to spank his bottom.
She snickered, then leaned closer to the door, listening. Catching a few words, she wondered who the mayor was talking to. And why he seemed so interested in that new strip club being advertised on the highway billboard…Joyful Interludes.
EMMA SHOULD have known better than to think Daneen would let her get away without one more shot at ruining her day.
“Wait,” the other woman called before they could step off the curb onto the street.
She gritted her teeth as Johnny paused.
Daneen sauntered down the sidewalk, like a woman who knew she looked good in her silky blouse and tight skirt, and grabbed Johnny’s arm. Tilting her head back, she gave him a welcoming smile. “Are you coming over to dinner tonight?”
Johnny appeared confused. “Was I supposed to?”
“Well, it’s Friday.”
Johnny raised a brow. “So?”
“You know. Little Johnny’s pizza and movie night.”
Little Johnny? Emma tensed. There was a little Johnny somewhere? Good grief, had she been so bloody distracted seeing her first lover in the flesh—and such fine flesh it was—that she’d never even cast a quick, surreptitious glance toward his left-hand ring finger? Emma Jean Frasier, usually a connoisseur of eligible bachelors, had slipped up big time.
She looked now. No ring. The rush of relief surprised her. She shouldn’t have been glad. After all, she hated the bastard, she really did. But something that felt suspiciously like happiness did ooze through her before she could stop it.
“Why do you call him that?” Johnny asked, shaking his head in obvious annoyance. “You know he hates it. The kid’s been called Jack for nine years. Why all of a sudden you’ve started calling him Johnny is beyond me.”
Daneen cast a glance at Emma. “What boy wouldn’t want to be called the same thing as the man he considers his daddy?”
Growing visibly tense, Johnny didn’t answer right away. He stared directly at Daneen. The woman finally stopped giving Emma sly looks, and focused on Johnny’s unsmiling face.
“Jack is my nephew and I love him,” Johnny said, his tone tight. “But I’m not his father, I’m his uncle. He knows it. You know it. Everyone in town knows it. Changing his name isn’t going to do anything but make him resent you, Daneen.”
Emma at last understood. Little Johnny…Jack…had to be the baby Daneen had been pregnant with back in high school. The baby she’d conceived with Emma’s boyfriend, Nick Walker. The baby the whole town had been whispering about on the day of the senior prom, when word got out that the king—Nick—had deserted his queen—Emma—because he’d knocked up the daughter of the sheriff.
And that the sheriff was cleaning his gun.
Daneen didn’t say another word as Johnny helped Emma to the SUV and held her arm while she got in. Once he joined her, taking his place in the driver’s seat, she couldn’t help rolling down her window to face Daneen. Somehow, her face didn’t even crack as she forced a pleasant expression. “Nice seeing you, Daneen. I never got a chance to say goodbye all those years ago.” She managed a completely unconcerned laugh, still having enough of that old dumped-high-school-girl pride to act as if she didn’t care what had happened. “You sure missed one wild prom night.”
Daneen
