Page 15 of Honeycombs & Homecomings

“What made you stop?”

Seeing the shop had made him stop—seeing it and knowing what it was and who it belonged to. “There was a spot open in front. I parked, looked at the honey shop, then went to the festival.”

“And what’s your relationship with the store owner?” E. Morrison asked.

“They’re friends,” Roger supplied.

Cash was glad he didn’t expound. When you grew up in a town with a high school with fewer total members than that of the nearest big city’s marching band, you knew everyone in every grade you went with. And there’d been a time when everyone in town had thought the two of them would get married someday, and even now Cash wondered what further explanation people would give of their relationship.

“She’s not answering,” Jo said, approaching again. “Is it all right if I look upstairs?”

The deputies nodded, and she headed up as they continued to look around. Cash let her get a few steps away and waited. She glanced back at him so quick that if he hadn’t been watching, he’d have missed it. Then he went after her. She made it halfway up the stairwell before he’d even reached the bottom step. She paused at the top, and a second later, he was at her side.

The upstairs was a disaster with boxes everywhere, some tipped over, others strewn about.

“They got up here, too, huh?” Cash asked.

She shook her head. “No, um . . . . This is all mine and Allie’s and some of it my mom’s stuff. We just moved in this week.”

Cash felt the answer like a blow to the gut. He glanced around and noticed now that the open boxes were filled with clothes and other various household objects.

She flipped on a light. “We haven’t had time to get organized yet.”

He turned to her. “Why would you move in here?” He couldn’t imagine why Jo and Allie would ever move when they could stay at their parents’ home—a beautiful mansion on the river with more than enough room to spare. It’d been a haven to him when he’d been in high school. He’d spent almost every afternoon and weekend there.

She rubbed her arms. “That’s a story for another day.” She dropped her head to her hands. “This is such a mess.”

He glanced around. “It’s not that bad.”

“No, not this,” she said, then pointed down through the wood floor boards to where her store was. “I’ll never get this place cleaned up by Thursday.”

That was two days from now. “What happens Thursday?”

“We have a couple coming from California who are interested in investing. I should have told Tony to cancel.” She buried her head in her palms.

“Tony?” A lump formed in his stomach, bigger than the one he’d felt when he’d seen the shop torn up and had known she was inside alone.

She dropped her hands and plopped down on a sofa he could now see was a trundle bed. “My sister’s fiancé. This is such a disaster.”

Her eyes glimmered, wet with tears she’d never let fall. And yet all he could think was how glad he was that Tony was Allie’s finance.

He sat down next to her and put an arm about her shoulder. He half expected her to pull away, but she rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s going to work out.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said. She pulled away and took her phone from her pocket, jabbed a few buttons with her long dainty fingers, then held her phone out in front of them.

“Hey, Jo. I just got a call from Tony,” it was Allie, “he wants to go away for a few days. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but he’s been acting weird. I need to talk to him, but . . . . Wait, hold on.”

There were the sounds of her phone muffling, Allie’s voice, some guy, then Allie was back on. “I’ll call you back, Josie.” She disconnected.

“You called her back?” Cash asked.

“Yep. She’s not answering. That message was two hours ago.” She tossed the phone down on the couch beside her. The disappointment in Jo’s expression was clear.

Looked like not much had changed for Allie since high school. When the going got tough, Allie always got going.

“I won’t see either of them until next week, mark my words.” The words she said might have sounded bitter coming out of anyone else, but out of Jo, they were resigned.

“They do this a lot?”

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