was doing his best to do right by him and keep the entire town from knowing about the missing money and how the trail led to Jaime. Jaime still didn’t understand how that was the case, and when he’d asked for details, Adam had grimaced and said that they were told by their lawyer and the investigator that that should remain confidential.
Jaime swallowed, watching Adam talk. Of course it was a secret. They’d accused a man of theft and would throw away the key, all before showing any evidence that said man was, in fact, a thief.
“The lead investigator, Thomas Jennings, will be here today to talk to the staff. No one has to speak with him,” Adam was saying, looking at everyone at the table. “No one has been charged. I would recommend that if you do decide to speak with Sheriff Jennings, that you consider your words and how they will reflect not only on yourself, but on River’s Bend as a whole. I can’t forbid you from saying what you wish, of course.”
Jaime knew that the local police in Heron’s Landing had brought in Sheriff Jennings early on in the investigation, mostly because Heron’s Landing only had two local cops that had no real experience in these kinds of matters. Few crimes beyond car break-ins and public intoxication ever occurred in this tiny town. The last murder had occurred over thirty years ago, and few of the residents locked their doors at night.
“How long is this going to take?” Leah asked. Leah hosted the wine-tasting classes and was a bit of a curmudgeonly older lady. She lived alone with her calico cats, Patsy and Mrs. Witherspoon, and preferred feline companionship to most human friends. That being said, she enjoyed giving the wine-tasting classes and explaining wine to anyone who had an ear to listen.
“It shouldn’t take more than a half hour,” Adam replied, “if you decide to talk to Sheriff Jennings. Again, let me emphasize that this is completely voluntary.”
Chris crossed his arms, harrumphing a little. “Why are they asking us questions when it’s pretty clear who’s responsible for all of this?”
Jaime set his coffee down. No one turned to look at him, but it still felt like everyone was staring at him. His temples pounded, a headache threatening.
“As I said before, no one has been charged.” Adam’s voice was firm, even slightly angry. He gave Chris a hard look. “I know this might be difficult to remember, but everyone is innocent until proven guilty.”
Chris didn’t reply, but Jaime knew the man wanted to give Adam a biting reply.
He appreciated Adam coming to his defense, but at the same time, he hated that his best recourse was saying as little as possible. He’d have to act like he’d done nothing wrong by being blasé and going about his business, when really he wanted to confront every person who thought he was guilty and maybe shove their face into some manure. Was it petty? Yes. But the satisfaction of getting to do something like that would be worth it.
Adam dismissed them, and the team trailed out of the room. Jaime returned to the kitchen, but it was difficult to concentrate. His head hurt, although the one consolation was that Eric had called in sick today. At least he didn’t have to put up with his sous chef’s behavior while trying to keep his cool around Sheriff Jennings.
While deveining shrimp, Jaime heard a booming voice outside, one he didn’t recognize. He glanced at the clock: one o’clock. That must be the sheriff. He immediately tensed, ripping apart more than one shrimp as a result and having to toss them out.
He waited. And waited. He heard Adam and then Chris talk to the sheriff. He told one of his interns to finish deveining the shrimp while he worked on a sauce to go with the shellfish. His head still pounded, and he wished he’d taken some Advil before having to meet with the sheriff.
By two o’clock, the reckoning came. Jaime knew he was under no obligation to talk. But he was also aware that not talking could be seen as an admission of guilt. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right, but how was anything about this fair or right? He gritted his teeth, scrubbing his hands clean just as Sheriff Jennings entered the kitchen.
The sheriff could be described as a large man, and a very red one at that. His cheeks were red and chapped, his hands red, and