extent of the crimes. His mom had probably committed each one, more than once.
Jeremy pulled his truck into a parking space next to a patrol car and he sat there for a long minute because he dreaded going inside. Why had he come back to Dawson? Oh, right, for revenge.
Heâd been running from this life for years. Heâd done a good job of putting it behind him. He had a successful business building customized motorcycles. He had two world championships. Heâd done commercials for cologne and theyâd made posters of his ugly mug to sell at rodeo events.
No matter how far heâd gone or what he thought heâd done right, one person knew how to pull him right back into the gutter. A shadow moved in front of the door. On the other side of the glass deputy Carl Duncan waved and motioned him inside.
Heâd been fifteen when he bailed Jane out the first time. Heâd used his money from lawn jobs and heâd borrowed a car from a neighbor. Back then Carl had beenhis age, just a kid trying to make a better life for himself. The cop at the time had been Officer Mac. Heâd retired years ago.
That was a memory that made him smile. Officer Mac had been a farmer who carried a badge for extra money. When heâd seen Jeremy in that car, he shook his head and told Jeremy he was going to pretend he didnât see an underage driver behind the wheel.
Jeremy pulled the truck keys from the ignition and shoved them into his pocket as he got out of the vehicle. At least he had his own car these days.
He walked across the parking lot, stopping to glance up at the sky, another way to kill time. There were a few dark clouds, nothing major.
Carl pushed the door open. A woman screamed from somewhere at the back of the building. That would be Jeremyâs mother. He knew that awful sound and knew that her eyes would be red, her hair a wild mess. Theyâd been through this more than once.
âWhat did she do this time?â He grabbed a seat from behind one of the desks and sat down.
âShe was in the convenience store trying to convince them youâve stolen all of her hard-earned money.â
âThat would get me a cup of coffee.â
They didnât laugh. Carl sat down on the edge of the desk and shrugged. âSheâs coherent. Sort of.â
âRight. So what do I do with her, Carl?â
âTake her home.â The cop shrugged. He didnât have answers, either. âMaybe put her in a home. I donât know, Jeremy. Iâm real sorry, though.â
âMe, too.â Jeremy loosened his white cowboy hat and then pushed it back down on his head. âYeah, maybe a home. She might actually get sober.â
âRight, that would be good. She looks a little yellow.â
Her liver. He didnât know how it had held up this long.
âDo I owe you anything?â He pulled the wallet out of his back pocket and Carl shook his head.
âNo, there werenât any charges. I just brought her in to keep her from doing something crazy. Are you really going through with the church situation?â
It always came back to that. The people in this town ought to be thanking him for getting rid of that eyesore, not questioning his motives. Considering that the church had been one step away from being condemned, he didnât know why everyone had a problem with his plans.
His mother screamed again. âGet me out of here! I didnât break any laws. Iâll get a lawyer.â
Jeremy laughed, shook his head and stood. âIâd better get her home before she hires a lawyer.â
Carl nodded and headed down the narrow hall. He stopped at the farthest door and pulled keys from his pocket. âMrs. Hightree, Iâm letting you out now. Can you settle down for me or do I need to keep you overnight?â
âYou canât keep me overnight. I didnât do anything wrong.â
âPublic intoxication.â Carl slid the key in the lock.