The only sin you need to confess lately is thinking about your boss’s sister way too often.
His heart twisted. He thought of Grace’s expression as they’d stood together outside under the stars. The scent of her hair, the softness of her skin. How he’d been weak and called her Graciela, and how she hadn’t pushed him away like she should’ve. She should’ve told him to go to hell. But she’d clung to him and leaving her that evening had taken all of his strength and then some.
Sheriff Jennings sat down in Adam’s chair, forcing Jaime to take the chair across from him like some kind of subordinate. He also noticed that the sheriff had shut the door. He refused to be intimidated, though: he gazed straight at him, waiting expectantly, and praying that the sheriff couldn’t hear his pounding heart.
Sheriff Jennings glanced at a folder filled with a jumble of documents, then pulled out a notebook from his pocket. “You don’t mind if I take notes, do you?” He scribbled something down before asking, “So, where are you from, Jaime?”
“I’m from St. Louis, actually.”
“Yes, but where from originally?”
Jaime dug his thumbnail into his palm. “From St. Louis, like I said.”
The sheriff made a note, frowning. “Are your parents from St. Louis?”
“They’ve lived there for over thirty years, but they immigrated from El Salvador in the early ‘80s.”
Sheriff Jennings nodded. He then scrawled his notes, flipping pages and pages, like Jaime had imparted years’ worth of information in these brief statements. He continued to ask questions about Jaime’s heritage, his parents, their immigration status, and never once did he ask about the missing money.
And the worst part was that Jaime couldn’t fight against this assumption without making the situation worse for himself.
The only question semi-relating to the investigation the sheriff asked was, “Have you ever had money troubles?”
Who hasn’t? he thought. It’d only been after a few years at River’s Bend that Jaime had felt like he was in a position to feel comfortable with his income. Before that, it’d been all about scraping and saving and living paycheck to paycheck, if he wasn’t in school or interning somewhere. His parents had lived similarly, despite his father’s work as a professor. There never seemed to be enough money, no matter how many hours worked.
“Well, I can say that since I started here, I’ve been doing fairly well in terms of money,” Jaime replied, couching his words. “If you’re asking if it’s a concern right now? No, it’s not.”
The sheriff eyed him, as if skeptical of his answer. Then he scribbled something, his cheeks somehow redder than before.
He asked Jaime a few more questions before saying he could go back to work. As he opened the door for Jaime, though, he just kept nodding, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if he’d figured out the puzzle and was just waiting to impart the answer to someone.
An hour or so later, Jaime heard Adam saying goodbye to Sheriff Jennings. It was only then that he let out a sigh of relief. Logically, he knew that he couldn’t be arrested unless charges were filed, but some small part of him had worried that that wouldn’t have mattered to the sheriff. He’d put him in handcuffs and haul him away to the jail in nearby Columbia, because Heron’s Landing didn’t have a jail.
“Hey Jaime, can I talk to you a minute?” Adam poked his head into the kitchen. His expression wasn’t grim, per se, but it was serious.
Jaime nodded and finished up his work, washing his hands and wiping them off on his apron.
Is this just going to be the day where I get my ass grilled for hours? He had no idea what Adam needed to talk about now, unless the sheriff had told him that they were moving forward in some way.
Exhaustion swamped his limbs. He didn’t even want to cook for himself when he got home. He wanted to order a pizza, drink a beer, and then sleep until everything blew over.
“Can you close the door?” Adam asked. He was standing at his desk, shuffling some papers around.
“That doesn’t sound good.” Jaime tried to sound like he was joking, but really he sounded strained and tired. Déjà vu hit him, and he wondered if the sheriff were hiding underneath Adam’s desk, ready to pop out the moment he caught Jaime confessing to his crimes.
Adam looked up. “Sorry. I know you’ve had a lot going on. This actually isn’t about the money or anything, if that helps.”
Sitting down, Jaime was even more confused. “Now why do I feel like I’m getting an impromptu performance evaluation?”
Adam laughed. “Nothing like that. You’re my best employee and quite frankly I wish I could clone you.”
“So that means you’re paying me more money?”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” Adam sat down, his hands folded. His initial amused demeanor faded quickly, and now he looked as serious as ever. “This actually has nothing to do with work. This is a friend-to-friend conversation. Or man-to-man.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
Adam looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but in his office, having this conversation. Jaime’s stomach twisted when he realized what his friend was probably trying to figure out how to say.
Does he know about Grace and me? Does he know how much I want her?
He dug his thumbnail into his palm like he’d been doing earlier, hardly feeling the pain now. His mind whirled and his head pounded and God Almighty if his heart was about to burst from his chest.
Realizing he was fidgeting, he forced himself to still. He didn’t even know what Adam wanted to talk to him about, anyway.
Adam cleared his throat, he pulled at his shirt collar, and then he looked up at the ceiling.
“Dude, you’re killing me. What is it?” Jaime practically growled.
“This is the last thing I want to talk about, but I have to ask: is there something between you and Grace?” Adam finally returned his gaze to him, his expression hopeful, embarrassed, and deeply uncomfortable.
“What makes you think there’s something between us?”
“There have been…indications that things might not be as they were.” Adam sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Now I’m talking in circles. Look, I’d rather shoot myself in the arm than have this conversation. The thought of my little sister dating any man is something I can’t wrap my head around, but at the same time, I can’t stand by and see her get hurt.” His jaw clenched as he asked again, “Is there something between you two?”
Jaime dug his thumbnail so deeply into his palm that he was surprised he didn’t draw blood. He was torn between being honest with his friend and protecting Grace from her brother’s censure. They hadn’t done anything wrong. He knew that. But that didn’t make the situation less uncomfortable, less potentially painful.
“I think I should explain that I saw you two, when you came by the house the other day,” Adam said quietly. “I only saw a split second, but you two were embracing.”
Will the joys of this day ever end? Jaime thought. “Grace and I…” he began, not sure where to start. “We’ve gotten closer.” At Adam’s look, he added, “As friends. We’re friends. I was feeling down, she was being kind to me. That’s it. You don’t have to worry about anything.”