“Maybe, but Whitford trusts me with their doughnuts, my friend.”
Mitch shook his head. When he’d opened the email from Drew a few months back with the subject line “You won’t believe this shit,” he’d had to agree. It was hard to believe his old friend, who’d been riding shotgun on more than a few Kowalski capers, had been promoted to chief of the Whitford Police Department.
Hell, the night old Bob had wrecked the new cruiser, it had been Drew who goaded him into running rather than stopping when the lights started flashing in the rearview mirror of his old Camaro. Mitch was used to flying down the maze of dirt roads surrounding the town and Bob wasn’t, so when Mitch turned off his lights and trusted the moon and his instincts to guide him, he’d easily given the officer the slip. Bob Durgin, however, was determined to catch Mitch in the act that time and ended up sliding into a ditch and rolling the cruiser onto its roof.
Luckily, Officer Durgin was too honest for his own good and, when questioned by the chief, he’d admitted he’d never gotten close enough to read the license plate. Since there were two other Camaros in town close enough to Mitch’s to be easily mistaken for it in the dark, no charges had been pressed. Bob had never forgiven him, though, and he’d dogged Mitch’s footsteps until the day he’d gone off to college. And Mitch had no doubt the man was just waiting for him to screw up now.
“How’s Josh?” Drew asked, dragging Mitch out of the past.
“His leg’s not bad, but his attitude about it sucks. His attitude about everything sucks right now, actually, and I can’t figure out why. And he’s not taking care of the lodge worth a damn.”
“How long you staying?”
“The six weeks he’s supposed to have his cast on. Rosie told me things have been getting pretty tight, so hopefully that’ll be long enough to not only get my brother back on his feet, but have a look at the books, too.”
Drew leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his desk. “You think he’s skimming?”
“Down, cop. No, I think business has been going to shit and he didn’t want to tell anybody he’s hanging on by his fingernails.”
“Everybody’s taking a hit financially. We’ve seen an increase in thefts, for sure. People stealing small shit they can sell easily. And metals. Catalytic converters. Copper piping. You name it, people are stealing it.”
“That sucks. So, tell me about Paige Sullivan.”
Drew didn’t even blink at the abrupt subject change. Just smiled and leaned back in his chair again. “She’s a tough nut. Not sure even you can crack that one.”
“What’s her story?”
“Was driving through town and her car broke down. Ended up staying and buying the old diner.”
Mitch snorted. “I know that much. What I don’t know is why she doesn’t date.”
“Interrogating the women in town about their sex lives is beyond the scope of my job description. Maybe she was a nun before she moved here.”
“If a woman was a nun and then stopped being a nun, wouldn’t she want to do some catching up, so to speak?”
Drew shook his head. “I’m not going to risk burning in hell to answer that.”
“I’m not talking about a nun having sex, moron. A post-nun.”
“I’m pretty sure Paige was never a nun, so let’s move on just in case.”
“I’m going to be in town six weeks. Might be nice to have some company.”
Drew shrugged. “I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding a woman. Hell, you can walk into any place in town and half the women in the room will swoon, for chrissake.”
“I don’t want swooning women.”
“Good luck with that, man. Half the women in this town have had you and want you again, and the other half want to know what the fuss is about.”
“Not getting a swooning vibe from Paige.”
“Good for her. Be good for you to be told no. Builds character.”
Mitch grinned. “She’ll say yes. And, speaking of women, how’s Mallory?”
Drew’s mouth flattened out at the mention of his wife. “You’d have to ask her, since she’s currently not speaking to me.”
“Cold in the doghouse?” Mitch smiled. “It’s good to fight once in a while. Can’t have makeup sex if you’ve got nothing to make up for.”
“I don’t think there’s going to be makeup sex. I think there are going to be lawyers and a For Sale sign on the front lawn.”
Mitch dropped the smile and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Drew. Are you sure? Have you tried…something…counseling or anything?”