
His Honor, Her Family
Autor:in
Tara Randel
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Chapter One
GRACE HARPER LOOKED up from the paper-strewn desk as the office door opened, bringing with it a warm breeze blowing in leaves that had yet to be swept away from the outside entrance. A tall man strode to the counter with purpose. He removed his polarized sunglasses, his dark gaze meeting hers as he brushed a stray leaf from his short brown hair.
âIâm here about the job,â he said, his deep voice succinct and to the point.
Thank goodness. Sheâd been back at the Put Your Feet Up vacation and rental business office for only two days. It was Wednesday and already she wanted to pull her hair out. As much as she desperately needed a new outdoor guideâthanks for bailing, Nathanâthe idea of holding a job interview on top of straightening up the mess Mama had left behind was enough to give her a pounding headache. Which, she believed, was already knocking at her temples.
She sent him a pleasant smile. âWhat would you like to know?â
He nodded toward the door. âFrom the help-wanted sign out front advertising for a tour guide, and the fact that you offer outdoor vacations, Iâm guessing youâre shorthanded. So what would the job entail?â
âFirst, yes, weâre shorthanded. My mother normally handles the office, but she was injured, so Iâm filling in temporarily.â She stuck out her hand. âGrace Harper.â
Strong fingers enveloped hers. âDeke Matthews.â
âWell, Mr. Matthews, I need someone who can hike, fish, canoe, kayak and zip-line, to start with.â She handed him a brochure. âOur packages are listed here. I also need you to be able to manage a group of people and have first-aid knowledge.â
He scanned the glossy paper in his hands. âIsnât it rather late to be hiring a guide with the summer season so close? Itâs already the end of May.â
Biting the inside of her cheek, she wanted to scream, âYes.â Instead, she answered, âIâm afraid my motherâs accident set us behind and our only other guide has been out of touch.â
âI suppose youâll want someone to start right away?â
âThat would be ideal.â
He folded the brochure and met her gaze with his serious expression. âThen Iâd like to apply.â
âThat would be fine, but Iâd like to ask you a few questions first. Get an idea if youâre a good match for the job.â
âGo ahead.â
âDo you have any experience in specific outdoor activities?â
âI was a senior counselor at summer camp when I was a teenager.â
She swallowed in disappointment. âAnything more recent?â
âIâve been hiking the Appalachian Trail for the past two weeks.â
Okay, that was pretty hard-core outdoorsy stuff.
âAny experience leading tour groups?â
âNo, but I like the outdoors. I think this will be a good fit for me.â
She didnât need an employee who thought he was a good fit, she needed someone who knew what he was doing. And who would keep her from traipsing through the woods or venturing out on the lake. She was an attorney, for Peteâs sake. Not a tour guide. Not anymore.
âBoating experience?â
âI can row.â
âCPR?â
âCard-carrying.â
She was about to roll her eyes at his direct answers when she saw the very tiniest twinkle of humor in his dark eyes.
âDid I pass?â
Honestly, he was the only person to have inquired about the job since she posted the listing, so yeah, he passed. As long as his references checked out.
âIf I think of any other qualifications,â he said, âIâll add it to the work experience portion of the application.â
âRight. The application. Iâm sure I have one around here somewhere.â Embarrassed by the fact that she had no idea where Mama kept the forms, she crossed the office area on her side of the counter that separated the open room, hoping it looked like she knew exactly what she was searching for. Odds were Mama hadnât touched the system Grace had put into place before leaving for her law career, so she moved to the filing cabinet and rifled through the folders, finding the correct form. Whispering a quiet thank-you under her breath, she removed the paper and carried it to the patiently waiting gentleman.
His eyes, a startling blue-gray she realized now, captured hers and for a moment she froze. Until one arched brow rose in a silent question.
âYes?â
âDo you have a pen?â
âAâa pen,â she stammered, annoyed at herself for losing her composure. Good grief. Yes, he was good-looking, but certainly not enough to crumble her iron control. She scurried back to the desk and snatched the one sheâd been using. âHere you go.â
A slight tug curved his lips as he took the pen.
Smoothing her pale pink, lightweight jacket, she asked, âAre you new to the area?â
âIâm going to be in Golden for a while.â
Vague. But then again he didnât seem very chatty.
As her aspiring hire studied the form, Grace stretched her neck. She needed to get busy. The sooner she had Mamaâs life back on track, the sooner she could return to hers. âThere are some outdoor tables on the sidewalk in front of Sit a Spell Coffee Shop if youâd care to fill out the application there. Itâs a lovely day and the air is always so fresh here in the mountains.â
He glanced around the room. On his side of the counter, two ancient chairs were angled in the corner, a scratched table between them with outdoor magazines scattered on top. Oh, no, was that a cobweb on the ceiling? As he shifted, the wood floor creaked. She gazed at the walls, realizing for the first time that they needed fresh paint. Did the place look as run-down to him as it did to her?
She momentarily closed her eyes, picturing the office in its heyday. Clients coming and going, tour guides checking in, her parents managing the business together. There had been lots of good moments: doing homework after school with Faith right here at Mamaâs desk, Nathan underfoot as he played with his toy trucks. The times they piled into the bed of Daddyâs pickup when he went out to the warehouse to check on a canoe or piece of camping equipment. Or her favorite, hiking trips up a trail in the north Georgia mountains on a sunny Sunday afternoon, just the five of them. It seemed like a dream now. Life had been fairly normal, until fate stepped in and her father couldnât resist an opportunity that landed him in jail.
Her lids flew open when he cleared his throat.
âIâll fill it out here at the counter.â
âThen Iâll leave you to it.â
Turning on a very spiky heel, she faced the desk. The sight of the paperwork nearly had her groaning out loud. If her mother, Wanda Sue Harper, hadnât sprained her ankle after a fall, Grace would be in her downtown Atlanta office, planning court strategies and writing briefs. One frantic call and sheâd put her life on hold for four weeks. Scrambling to line up family leave was tricky, but since sheâd been with the firm for nearly a year, she was able to cover her open cases and come home.
It was like sheâd never left.
She concentrated on the task at hand, but she was also a bit distracted by the lingering woodsy scent of the stranger. As she peeked at his broad shoulders, tanned skin and muscular frame, she decided he looked physically suited for the job. More than capable in a non-suit-and-tie sort of way. When he looked over and caught her gaze, she dropped her head to focus on the piles of paper in front of her.
Why was she even noticing anyway? Maybe because heâd come to a job interview wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt and worn jeans. Jeans. To a job interview! Despite his clothing choice, she found him extremely attractive. Odd, because she didnât go for the rugged type and never dated men who didnât dress with a bit of polish. Show her a man in a well-tailored suit and she was a goner. Better yet, put her in a professional office setting and she was one happy camper.
This time she did groan, eliciting another brief glance from the man before he returned his attention to answering questions and supplying data. Okay, back to his being athletic. He seemed competent for the demands of the job, but the other requirements? Sheâd have to wait and see. She took a sip from her diet cola and then gathered up the vacation request forms sheâd printed out when sheâd arrived at the office. As soon as Mr. Matthews left, sheâd read them over, along with returning calls and checking the website, as well as touching base with her uncle Roy, who oversaw the rental cabins. It was only ten in the morning and already she saw no end to her to-do list.
As she reached out to grab hold of the overdue bill folder sheâd compiled, the front door flew open. She glanced up to find her worst nightmare perched on the threshold.
âGrace Marie Harper. When I heard you were back in town I had to come and see for myself.â
The shrill voice of Lissy Ann Tremaine sent shivers over her spine, in a horror-movie, run-for-your-life kind of way. And why did everyone in town insist on using two first names?
âHello, Lissy Ann.â
The slim woman, her dark hair pulled back in a stylish updo, was dressed in a trendy blouse, slacks and peep-toe pumps and dripping in gold jewelry. She crossed the room, pushed her way to the counter, elbowing Mr. Matthews aside, and rested her designer purse on top.
âI heard your mama took a fall.â
âYou know those front steps. Real killers.â
âSo youâve actually graced Golden with your presence.â She stopped. Giggled. âGraced. Did you get that?â
Grace held back an eye roll but smiled. Why? she silently moaned. It was bad enough Lissy Ann and her insufferable husband had made her life miserable in high school. Did Grace have to deal with this woman as well as juggle her motherâs doctor appointments and singlehandedly run the family business?
âIâll be here until Mama can get back on her feet.â Which Grace refused to do, remaining seated at the desk as she talked to her childhood...well, not friend.
Lissy Ann glanced around. Wrinkled her pert nose. âI suppose thatâs a good idea. You always did make this place work.â
Which is exactly why sheâd gone to law school and taken a job elsewhere, hoping her mother would finally accept the fact that this was her business, not Graceâs.
âI hope you get things under control. Weâre having a huge, and I do mean huge, Summer Gold Celebration coming up. An entire week dedicated to merchant specials, making sure all the local lodging is booked solid, holding mini-events.â She waved a hand with a huge honking diamond on it. âYou know the drill. Your mama promised to get involved. The tourist numbers should be phenomenal so we need everyone in town working overtime to make Golden the hot vacation spot.â
After dropping her conversation bomb, Lissy Ann looped her purse strap over her arm. âWe can count on you, right, Grace?â
âSure.â
âIâll send the promotional materials right over.â
âOh, yay.â
Lissy Ann huffed and left. The glass door panel rattled in the wake of her departure.
The silence felt good after having that unwelcome voice echoing off the rafters. Until a different voice said, âFriend?â
Sheâd almost forgotten Mr. Matthews was still in the room. âMore like mortal enemy.â
âI didnât know people really had those.â
âIf you had one, youâd know it...â
He tilted his head. âSounds like big goings-on this summer.â
âLissy Ann is married to the head of the chamber of commerce. They have plans to put Golden on the map.â
âYou donât sound excited about it.â
She shrugged. âI havenât been engaged in town functions for a while.â With luck sheâd be gone before the huge celebration. One could hope.
âIâm finished,â he said, pushing the paper across the counter.
Grace rose, smoothing her skirt. Why sheâd worn a work suit to the office today was anyoneâs guess. Folks werenât keen on formal clothing here in the mountain towns, going instead for a more laid-back look, except for Lissy Ann. By dressing professionally, Grace wouldnât let anyone forget for one minute the thriving law practice waiting for her seventy minutes south.
âLetâs see,â she said, lifting the completed paper. She noted his home address. âYou live in Atlanta?â
âDecatur, but like I said, Iâll be spending the summer in Golden.â
She continued reading. He was thirty-one, three years older than her. She stopped short at his employment history, specifically when special agent popped out at her. âYou work for the Georgia Bureau of Investigation?â
He nodded.
âWhy on earth would you apply as an outdoor guide?â she blurted.
âDue to circumstances, Iâve taken a leave of absence from the bureau.â
Should she ask what kind of circumstances? Like was he forced to take time off? Was he in some kind of trouble? Sheâd certainly find out when she checked his references, but in the meantime... Her eyes went wide when she continued reading. âYouâre a crime scene specialist?â
âYouâre familiar with GBI?â
âIâm an attorney. I work in Atlanta.â
âAn attorney?â
Why did it sound like Mr. Matthews spoke around something nasty tasting in his mouth?
âYes, Iâm surprised we didnât run into each other in court when I worked for the public defenderâs office.â
âYou donât work there now?â
âNo. A private firm handling criminal cases.â
His eyes became hooded. Uh-oh. Her suspicion meter went haywire.
âSo,â he asked, âdo I get the job?â
Obviously his career was not a topic for conversation. She bit her lower lip. Did she hire him? He was qualified in a completely different line of work, but as he said, heâd taken a leave of absence. He needed a job. She needed an employee. Her brother, Nathan, had flaked out on her and her sister, Faith, was less than reliable these days, so to be honest, Grace was desperate. She couldnât do this alone and the tour schedule was quickly filling up. The cool, refreshing mountain air lured families and outdoor enthusiasts who wanted time away from the rush and summer heat of the big city. Spending time in a smaller town like Golden, which operated on mountain time, thereby alleviating stress, had become big business. She needed to help Mama by getting the season started and running smoothly.
âAs I said, my mother is indisposed. I should run your application by her and see what she thinks. Itâll also give me time to check your references.â
He regarded her with an expression she couldnât decipher.
âI can promise you, I live a boring life. No past indiscretions to keep me from employment.â
Maybe, but she wasnât willing to take any chances.
âSo if your mother canât work and you have no one else to run the tours, do you have an idea of when you might come to your decision? If itâs going to take a while, Iâll need to apply elsewhere.â
Logical question. Why was she suddenly stalling? âTechnically Iâm just taking care of the company until she can come back full-time. Sheâs still the principal owner.â
âBut she transferred her authority to you?â
âFor the time being.â
âUnless you find me unqualified or you just donât like me, I donât see the holdup.â
He didnât see the holdup? Who did he think he was?
âI donât mean to give you an ultimatum, but there are other businesses looking for help,â he pointed out.
âThen perhaps you should apply at those other places, where, I might add, the owners will also want references.â
âYouâd send me away, even though you need me?â
âI never said I needed you.â
His eyes gleamed. âBut you do.â
âI have other interviews lined up.â Liar.
He rested his elbows on the scuffed countertop. âUntil then do you plan on running the office and hiking up the mountain at the same time? Handling the town celebration by yourself?â
Why was she even arguing with him? Sheâd thought he might be the answer to her problem until he started questioning her methods. She hesitated until a voice in the back of her mind taunted, Hire him so you can get back to Atlanta sooner than later.
She couldnât allow herself to be sucked into family drama again. Her mother would try everything in her power to keep Grace in Golden. Hadnât it been an ongoing battle just to attend college and law school? If Mama could find a way to milk her injuriesâvery possible for Wanda SueâGrace might end up back where she started, stuck in a town sheâd dreamed of leaving since she was a teen. Everyone knew her here, knew the familyâs worst history and her part in it, a time when sheâd been unable to manage events that had spun out of control. The sooner she was at her real job, assuming the firm didnât fire her if her mother didnât get back on track soon, the quicker sheâd gain control of her life.
Still, telling Mr. Matthews to take his high-handedness and hit the road was on the tip of her tongue. Before she could utter the words, the phone rang. She held up a finger and snatched the wireless from the cradle. âPut Your Feet Up.â
âGracie, tell me you hired someone today.â
âMama, this isnât a good time.â
âBuck Watkins down at the Jerky Shack said he saw a healthy man walk into the office. Did you talk to him?â
âIâm conducting an interview now.â
âCan he take the job?â
âYes, butââ
âGracie, you always make everything so difficult.â
Grace ignored a twinge at the not-so-subtle dig.
âI canât get ahold of Nathan and the first tour is in three days. How on earth will I deal with my injuries and not worry about the business if you donât get help soon.â
Pile on the guilt trip, Mama.
âLetâs discuss this later.â
âWhy? Weâll still come to the same conclusion.â
âI need to check his references first.â
âHire him now, check them later. If they donât pan out, you can fire him then, but for goodnessâ sake, donât let him slip through your fingers. We need him.â
This was exactly why Grace had left Golden and the family company.
Turning from Mr. Matthewsâs curious expression, Grace closed her eyes and counted to ten. âIâll see you later,â she said, ending the conversation.
Straightening her shoulders, she faced the man she was going to have to work with in the near future. âYouâre hired.â
A smile broke the serious expression on his face. At the sight of his dimples, her breath stalled in her chest.
âThat wasnât so hard.â
Of all the... One, two, three...
âWhen do I start?â
âHow about tomorrow? Nine in the morning.â
âWorks for me.â
âMake sure youâre on time,â she said, rounding the desk as the phone started to ring again. As she reached for it, the front door closed behind her. Thankfully, sheâd be heading back to her old life in a month. Then the family business, and all it entailed, was someone elseâs problem.
TAKING A SIP of hot coffee as he exited Sit a Spell Coffee Shop, Deke Matthews struggled to hold back a satisfied grin. Step number one taken care of. Heâd landed a job and now had a cover story to justify hanging around Golden. Pleased with his progress, he pulled his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans and hit speed dial.
âDeke, any success?â his brother Dylan promptly asked when he picked up.
âI got a job.â
âThat was fast.â
âYou know I always take care of matters in a timely manner.â
âA trait I appreciate. Especially now.â
Deke heard a rustling on the other end, then, âSo whatâs your new profession?â
âOutdoor tour guide. Leading tourists up mountain trails, boating on the lake, that sort of thing.â
âSounds more like fun than work.â
âSomeone has to do it.â Deke took another sip of the tasty almond-flavored coffee, swallowed, then asked, âIs Mom still in the dark?â
âYes. And I plan on keeping it that way.â
âAgreed.â
âDerrick and Dante are on the same page, too.â
âStill, this is Mom weâre talking about. She has no clue?â
âNo. James Tate has totally duped her.â
Deke frowned. He hadnât met his motherâs boyfriend yet. In fact, none of her boys had had the pleasure. That made him very wary of the guy. Along with the fact that his mother and Dylan lived in Florida, it made a quick pop-in to scope out the situation almost impossible. But their motherâs recent behavior had set all the brothers into a tailspin.
First of all, this was their mother. She didnât date. Or at least hadnât, not since their father had died. In the years after Daryl Matthewsâs passing, sheâd never once gone out with a man. Friend, romantic interest or otherwise. This Tate guy must have sold her an attractive story for her to finally move on from their fatherâs cherished memory and try to hide it from her sons.
âIs she still giving you the runaround?â
âEvery day.â
At the frustrated tone of his brotherâs voice, Deke grinned. It took a lot to throw his brother Dylan off task, but Jasmine Matthews was good. Very good.
So were her sons. Theyâd learned from the best.
âI thought you had plans to run into them while they were on a date?â Deke reminded his brother.
âShe caught wind of it and moved the location.â
âClassic Mom.â
Dylan let out a short laugh.
If there was one thing their mother was good at, it was bending her sonsâ wills to do her bidding. Not in an evil-queen kind of way. More like sheâd mastered the art of manipulation after raising four boys. He guessed it was a survival tactic. But the Matthews boys loved their mother and would do anything to keep her safe. Even if it meant Deke detouring to Golden to follow a lead theyâd uncovered about their motherâs boyfriend.
At least thatâs what he told himself. Escaping from Atlanta had been the primary goal because the truth was much more complicated.
âDid you find the store yet?â
âIâll be passing it any minute.â
At the intersection, Deke looked both ways before striding to the opposite side of the downtown street. A mix of busy storefronts and specialty boutiques lined each side of the avenue. As casually as possible, he stopped at the front window of a store named Blue Ridge Cottage. Shoppers milled about inside, but he couldnât see the store owner.
âItâs just like the intel promised,â Deke conveyed.
âDo you have a visual on the target?â
âNo.â As two older women exited the store, he nodded and moved on. âGive me time and Iâll see what I can dig up.â
âAre you sure youâre up to this?â
Here it comes. âWhy would you ask me that?â
âBecause you escaped to the mountains.â
âAnd thatâs a crime?â
Dylanâs voice went tight. âThatâs what you do, Deke. Withdraw when you should be with people.â
âI donât want to discuss this.â
âYou never do. Hiding away instead of confronting your past isnât good for you. You canât keep closing yourself off.â
âWhy not? It works for me.â Deke shut his eyes and counted to ten. âLook, I told you Iâd find something out about this mystery woman and I will.â
âAnd then youâll deal?â
âDonât push me.â
Deke went silent, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tired of the same refrain. He hated when his brothers pushed him to be social when he was better off with his own company.
âListen, Deke. Weâre counting on you.â
âNo pressure, huh?â
âNever, brother. Gotta run.â
Dylan ended the call and Deke replaced his phone in his back pocket. He walked over to a bench and lowered his lanky frame to the wooden seat.
Once Dylan had discovered their mother was dating, the brothers had decided to stick their noses in where they didnât belong. It was only fair play. Their mother would certainly do the same to them. Had done the same at one time or another in their relationships. Sheâd made it clear she wanted daughters and in order for that to happen, her sons needed to marry. Theyâd all disappointed her, sheâd complained. Hadnât she set up impromptu meetings with single women or invited the âperfectâ woman to dinner if one of his brothers planned to stop by her condo? It was a little trickier since he and Derrick lived in different states. Dylan and Dante had finally met their matches, but was his mother so lonely herself that sheâd fallen for a guy no one knew anything about?
Deke loved his mother. Had felt helpless over the grief sheâd tried to hide after their fatherâs death. He wouldnât let some guy swoop in and take advantage of her. They also wouldnât violate any protocols and use their law enforcement jobs to do an extensive background check on the man just because they didnât trust him. When asked, Deke had gladly stepped in to try to find some easy answers.
The first break had come when James offered to do some work around their motherâs condo. Curious, Dylan called the company James claimed he worked for. Turned out the place had never heard of him. After a little digging, Dylan suspected James Tate was not who he claimed to be, sending up huge red flags. Dylan laid it out for their mother, but she refused to heed his warning. She trusted James, sheâd argued. He would never hurt her. There were things Dylan didnât know. And with that, she shut down further conversation on the subject.
More determined than ever to find out who this man really was, their younger brother, Dante, had pulled his new girlfriend into the loop. Eloise called in a favor and unearthed information they could actually use. Theyâd learned James regularly called a number here in Golden, which they traced to Blue Ridge Cottage. A young woman owned the shop. So who was she, exactly? And why did James call her? Since Deke was already up this way to hike the Appalachian Trail, once he was in range signal, Dylan had called and asked him to conduct the second part of their investigation. He was on leave of absence from his job, giving him the time to follow through on this lead.
Arriving in Golden, Deke wasnât sure what kind of job heâd find here. It wasnât a matter of being picky, but he did want something that would immerse him in the town so when he met the target it would seem natural. To her anyway. Working in a restaurant wasnât at the top of his list, so when he happened upon the help-wanted sign in the front window of Put Your Feet Up, his gut urged him to go in and inquire about the job.
Not only would being a guide be the perfect cover, he also enjoyed working outdoors. In many ways, he hoped this job would distract him from the recent events that had changed his life.
Across the street he could just see into the window of the Put Your Feet Up office. Miss Harper walked past the window, the sun lighting on her chin-length, blunt-cut blond hair. Clearly sheâd hired him because she was desperate, not because of his witty repartee. The tourist season was upon them, which worked to his advantage, and since she couldnât be the guide and run the office at the same time, she was stuck with him. He took another sip of his coffee and savored the rich taste. Yeah, she hadnât been charmed by himânot that charm was his strong suit, heâd been told more than onceâbut he had to admit, when sheâd mentioned she was a criminal lawyer, it was all he could do not to walk out the door. Probably would have, if this entire mission didnât focus on his mother.
A ding sounded from his pocket. He extracted his phone to find a text from his oldest brother, Derrick. Heard you got a job. Fast work.
What, had Dylan sent out a memo right away?
Another ding. Let me know if this is too much.
Deke clenched his jaw. He loved his brothers, but their concern smothered him. He liked being alone. What was the big deal?
He typed, I can handle it.
While he waited for a responseâbecause Derrick was not the kind to leave well enough aloneâhe pulled up his photo gallery. Scrolled through until he found a recent picture of his friend Brittany, with her husband and two young sons.
His hand trembled as her sunny smile tore at his heart.
It wasnât your fault, his inner voice asserted.
His chest squeezed tight and he could barely breathe.
A ding jarred his guilty memories. Call me if you need me, Derrick texted.
Deke didnât need his brotherâs, or anyone elseâs, help. He was dealing with the tragedy and heâd be fine. In time.
The idea of swallowing another mouthful of coffee made his stomach sour. He tossed the cup at the nearby trash can. It hit the edge, then tottered inside. Not a slam dunk, but then Deke wasnât exactly proficient in sports, even if he did excel in competition with his brothers. Heâd do fine leading outdoor tours for the time being before deciding what to do with the next stage of his life, because going back to analyzing crime scenes when his investigation had put a good friend in a deadly situation wasnât an option right now. Sighing, he stretched his arms along the back of the hard bench, the warm sunshine beating down on him as he watched the happenings of Golden, Georgia.
Heâd done his research before arriving in town. His brothers always razzed him about his geeky tendencies, but who did they come to first when they needed information about one thing or another in their lives? Thatâs right. Him.
The town had been established around 1835 after a gold vein was discovered in the surrounding mountains about five years earlier. Folks had trekked to this beautiful spot of land, hoping to make a fortune. Gold mines popped up, much like the historical structure Deke had passed when he first drove into town. The US Mint built a branch in a neighboring town and produced gold coins. Eventually the rush slowed and those with gold fever moved on to California. From the signs posted on the curvy roads in the mountainous area, gold panning was a popular tourist attraction. He supposed heâd have to check it out before he left.
Goldenâs greater downtown consisted of six blocks of tree-lined sidewalks built on an increasing incline. There were gift shops, restaurants, lodging and a few professional offices. The buildings were painted in vivid colors. Old-fashioned, ornate cast-iron lampposts lined the main street, supporting large planters overflowing with bright marigolds.
Once off the main street, there were further blocks of housing in all directions, but then the lots grew larger and farther apart as the thick woods and the slopes of the mountains took over the surrounding areas. Golden Lake was situated north of town, a popular tourist destination.
The pace was slow, the town folk friendly. Cars moved down the street in a leisurely fashion, unlike the massive traffic tangles he dealt with daily in Atlanta. He didnât miss the job, the place or the memories one little bit, but he couldnât stay away forever. At some point heâd have to return to the job. Heâd need to give his superiors an answer on whether he wanted to continue working for the bureau or not, and as of right now, he couldnât truthfully say.
He wasnât posturing when he told Miss Harper working outdoors would be a good fit for him. He needed space from the events that had caused him to question not only his line of work, but life in general. Thinking about the tragedy left him with lots of questions and zero answers. Being outside in the fresh air and sunshine might help him discover what step to take next. If not...well, heâd deal with that later.
Miss Harper moved before the window again, this time stopping to gaze outside. He couldnât see her well from here, but heâd cataloged her details right after meeting her. Sparkling green eyes. Milky complexion. Probably only five and a half feet to his nearly six. Spunk, and plenty of it.
An attorney. What were the odds?
Heâd freely admit he was biased when it came to his current personal struggle. She might be a criminal attorney, but that didnât mean she found ways to let killers go free. He knew he needed to work on the anger and yes, deep down, the guilt.
His new boss must have noticed him. She waved, then disappeared.
Yes, heâd make himself work with Miss Harper because this entire mission was about getting the truth for his mother. There was no way heâd let a criminal, if James Tate was indeed one, destroy another person he loved.
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