the town of Blackberry when she’d been up here a year ago, helping a friend and hunting a killer. Her friends were still here—the killer long dead. And now her parents had settled in nearby to boot, adding to the little town’s attraction.
“It would be so nice to have you close by, right in the next town,” her father said, speaking slow and softly. “After all, we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”
“That would be nice,” Jax agreed. God knew she hadn’t had enough time with her father—a lifetime wouldn’t be enough. He’d served twelve hard years in prison, and lost his brilliant medical career because of it. He would never be able to practice medicine again—at least not on human beings. But he hadn’t become despondent. He’d written every day, as had she. And he’d begun studying veterinary medicine while still in prison, and completed his work during the two years since his release. Only six months ago, the AVMA board had voted to grant him a license to practice. He had joined an aging veterinarian at the Blackberry-Pinedale Animal Hospital, and he seemed fulfilled and content.
He’d aged thirty years in prison. He was skinny as a rail, his hair pure white and thinning, and he was quiet—far more quiet than he’d ever been before. Almost as if he was always far too deep in thought to be bothered with conversation.
“It would be nice for me, too,” Frankie said. “I’ve been wanting to retire for months, but reluctant to leave the department in less than capable hands. When I thought of you, Jax, it was like a load off my shoulders. I’m convinced you’re the one for the job.”
“Yeah, yeah, flattery will probably work. Keep it coming,” Jax told her.
Frankie grinned at her, adding wrinkles to her wrinkles. Jax still wasn’t used to thinking of a sixty-plus-year-old with kinky silver curls as chief of police, but she knew from experience Frankie Parker was a good cop. Her looks just tended to lull you into thinking she was harmless. That probably worked to her advantage.
“The town board will approve you on my say-so,” she said. “No problem there. It’s really up to you.”
Again Jax nodded. “Why aren’t you promoting one of the officers from your department, Frankie?”
“Neither Matthews nor Campanelli are interested,” she said. “Too much paperwork, too much pressure. Though, compared to a big department like Syracuse has, you’ll find it a piece of cake,” she added quickly. “I’ve got one other, Kurt Parker, but frankly, he hasn’t got the temperament for it. Hell, he probably wouldn’t be working for me at all if he wasn’t my nephew.”
Jax nodded, mulling that over. She hadn’t met Officer Parker. He’d been away on vacation when she’d been here last. Then she thought of someone else who could fill the position. “What about Josh Kendall? He was DEA. Surely he could fill the spot.”
“Kendall?” Frankie shook her head. “I like that we think alike, Jax. Josh was on top of my list. Fact is, I offered him the job and he turned me down flat. I think he and Beth have had enough excitement to last them several lifetimes. They’re both content to make their way as the humble keepers of the Blackberry Inn. Can’t say as I blame them.” She slowed the car, glanced at Jax with a smile. “Here’s the house that comes with the job.”
Jax looked, then looked again. “You’re shitting me.”
“Nope.”
She’d expected the house, a perk that came along with the job as police chief, to be a functional cracker box at the edge of the village. Instead, Frankie was pulling into the driveway of a flat-roofed, white Victorian that took her breath away. Tall narrow windows were flanked by forest-green shutters, with elaborate scrollwork trim in that same green, as well as mauve. The paint was new. The place looked perfect.
“Town claimed it for back taxes and other money owed a while back. They did some initial repairs, and kept it in tiptop shape since. Were thinking about selling it, but we had a budget surplus this year. I convinced them to offer it to the new police chief, make up for the pay being lower than you could make elsewhere. Told ’em we’d have to do something special to get someone good enough to fill my shoes.”
“Must be some damn big shoes,” Jax muttered. “What are you, a twelve extra-wide?”
“Ahh, it’s not so much. Used to be twice this size,” Frankie said. “But an entire wing had to be torn down. Wait till you see inside.” She shut the motor off and got out, making footprints in the snow. She tugged her furry collar up to her ears and trudged forward, taking a set of keys from her black, leatherlike cop-jacket’s pocket.
Jax got out, too, waiting for her parents to join her before hurrying toward the front door. She was nearly there when a large black-and-brown dog lunged out from underneath the front porch, barked twice with its pointy ears laid back, then turned and ran away. It vanished into the woods across the street. Jax just stood there, staring after it and swearing under her breath.
“That was a police dog, wasn’t it?” Mariah asked. “I think it’s a sign!”
Jax pursed her lips and refrained from correcting her mother. She’d always referred to German shepherds as “police dogs” and always would. “That was one sad-looking case,” Jax said. “Seemed as if it’s been living on tree bark and swamp water.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that dog.” Frankie shook her head so that her tight silver curls bounced. “He’s a menace. We’ve been trying to collar him for a year without any luck. He’s cagey enough to get by on his own.”
Jax tipped her head to one side. “That’s odd, isn’t it?”
“How so?” Frankie asked.
Jax shrugged. “He’s no mongrel, looked like a purebred. He must have belonged to someone once.”
“I didn’t know you were a dog lover, Jax,” Frankie said.
“I could care less about dogs.” It was a lie and she knew it, but she didn’t want to go blowing her anti-girlie image by painting herself as a bleeding-heart puppy cuddler. “You have a father who’s a vet, you pick up a few things, that’s all.”
“Well, that mutt may be a purebred, but I can tell you he’s one hundred percent pure pain in my backside now. Don’t worry, Jax, we won’t let him pester you. Come on, come see the house.”
Jax nodded and followed Chief Frankie inside, trying unsuccessfully to put the dog out of her mind. It wasn’t easy. His brown eyes had met hers for just a moment, and managed to beam right past her hard-shell exterior to the soft, mushy parts she didn’t let anyone see.
She didn’t like those parts, kept them concealed and confined. Mostly because she lived and worked in a man’s world and she’d learned to act the part. But she knew, too, it was partly because her sister had been soft. She’d been friendly, open and utterly trusting. Jax had learned at sixteen where those soft parts could get you. In her line of work, and in life in general, a woman just couldn’t afford to indulge them.
Still, the whole time Frankie showed her around the house, which was just as gorgeous on the inside, she kept thinking about the dog. And before the tour was finished, she’d decided to pick up a bag of dog food and leave some out for him. Of course, she wouldn’t tell anyone. But she’d always had a soft spot for strays.
“Now, the fireplace has been checked over thoroughly. It’s ready to use, but
