Free Jolene 1 by Sarina Adem Page A

day. I see Caroline forgot to lock the door behind her. Guess I’ll need to have a talk with her in the morning. Not that I don’t mind seeing you. You don’t stop by near enough, you know that?”
    Jolene shrugged. “Can’t say I’ve ever been hit with the inclination to. How’s C.C.?”
    “C.C.’s taking care of our boys. I’m sure she’s more exhausted than I am, staying home with a two and four-year-old all day. Lovely as ever, though.”
    “I’m sure. How’s the job?”
    “This job?” Mick chuckled. “Piece of cake, if the cake was a big pile of frosted shit. That’s all this job is, Jo. Shoveling people’s shit in and out, all day every day. How about you? Lady of the law. You like being sheriff?”
    Jolene nodded. “I do.”
    Mick just smiled, nodded, and held her gaze for a second. As if he were lost in time, seeing her in high school again. “I thought about you the other day,” Mick said, going back to shoving papers in his briefcase. “I was flipping channels, came across a Clint Eastwood marathon. Remember that? You used to love those old westerns.”
    Jolene felt a smile tug at the memory. “Yeah, I still watch them when I can.”
    “Man,” Mick grinned, “I almost forgot about that drawl of yours. Nobody talks as sexy as you. You know that, Jo?”
    “Not even your wife?”
    “C.C.’s voice brings me solace, no doubt. It’s just nice to hear a voice from my past again. May I ask what brings you to my office, sheriff?”
    Jolene took a casual step inside, away from the doorframe. Hands still on her belt. “Well, Mick, I have to say, I never thought I’d be standing here about to say . . . what I’m about to say.”
    Mick laughed. “Oh, man, the suspense is killing me. You want me back? That’s it, isn’t it? Let me get C.C. on the phone and maybe we can broker some kind of visitation rights.” He winked. “You can have me on the weekends or something.”
    “Exactly how much cocaine are you pushing through my county, Mick?”
    He stopped shoving papers in his briefcase. That grin plastered on his face, dead, but somehow the muscles held it. His hollowed, gray-blue eyes filled up with nothing. “What are you talking about, Jo?”
    “I can tell you how much. My men and I arrested your drivers this morning. I suspect that’s why you’re stuffing that briefcase full of important documents. Might be some things there you don’t want people finding out about until you’re far away.”
    “Jolene,” Mick’s posture stiffened, “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. Can’t you see I’m about to leave the bank? Where I work? For honest money?”
    “Sixty kilos in the back of that truck. You involved in anything else illegal?”
    Mick’s gasp turned into a chuckle. “Now Jo, you know I’m not capable of anything like this.”
    “I thought that at first. I would never have guessed it was you. Small town bank manager. Drug kingpin. Want to know how I made the connection?”
    Mick glanced down and nonchalantly pulled open the desk drawer to his right. “Is this some kind of prank, Jo? It ain’t funny if it is.”
    Jolene gripped her Glock 17 in its holster. “Don’t do it, Mick. You’ve got a wife and two kids waiting on you for dinner. Now I can’t let you go home to them, but I can promise I’ll let them come down to the station and eat with you. Undisturbed.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “I’m talking about that gun you’ve got in your desk. Don’t draw on me, Mick.”
    “Or what?”
    “Or I’ll put you on the ground.”
    Mick laughed audaciously. “I’ve read the names of men you’ve already put there in headlines. I don’t want to join them. So alright. Tell me. How’d you make the connection?”
    “I wasn’t one hundred percent sure until right now. The driver’s cell phone had your number in it. Under most recent calls. He said he worked for you, but I figured I’d let you sweat it out all day, not hearing from your