Page 8 of Naughty by Nature

Joy Overland, the elementary school secretary who had been on the job almost thirty years, smiled at him when he was buzzed through the security door.

“Sheriff! What a nice surprise!”

Sheridan took off his hat, holding it against his thigh. “Hey, Joy. Any chance I can talk to Cheyenne for a minute?”

She glanced up at the clock and nodded. “Yes, I think I can swing it. Julie.”

A girl at a student desk looked up. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Can you go get Ms. Lowell please?”

With a nod the girl grabbed the bright green hall pass and swung through the door.

“So, how’s that girl of yours?,” Joy asked. “I miss seeing her sweet face.”

Sheridan smiled. “I do too, actually. She’s a bit of a pistol recently. Gonna be driving soon, so you better watch out.”

Joy laughed, her cheeks turning pink with pleasure. “She can’t be that bad. I’ve lived through many years of students becoming responsible drivers. She’ll be fine.”

“Yes, you’re probably right. It’s just a little traumatic for me right now.”

The young girl came back, hall pass swinging in her hand. Steps behind her was Cheyenne Lowell, looking curious and a little concerned. Her pale eyes widened when she saw him, and something shifted behind her gaze.

He held the coffee out to her and her expression lightened with delight. “Oh, my goodness! You didn’t have to do that.”

He smiled as she ripped the paper off the straw and plunged it into the drink. The sultry, satisfied expression on her face as she took a drink had him shifting in his boots. Damn, she always looked good, but that expression made him think needful things. Things he hadn’t been a part of in a very long time.

“Is there somewhere we can talk privately, Cheyenne?”

Her expression turned cautious and she nodded. “Follow me.”

Sheridan would have said happily, but that probably wasn’t acceptable in the elementary school. In spite of himself though, he did glance at her loose-limbed walk. Cheyenne was tall for a woman, and strong. Came from working for her daddy all those years on the ranch.

She led him into a conference room and when he passed through, she closed the door behind them. The silence was suddenly very loud, and he was very conscious of her proximity.

Damn. Why couldn't it be someone else to share this info? She was never going to let him in after this.

Moving around the table she sank down into one of the seats. “So, what’s going on? Did Grace do something I don’t know about?”

In spite of himself he laughed. “Not that I know of.”

He sank down across from her and placed his hat beside him on the table. “Wade had a parole hearing the other day. Did you know that?”

The color swept from her cheeks and Sheridan was very glad she was sitting down. She shook her head. Now he really felt like shit. “I didn’t know you didn’t know. Their system is fu-messed up,” he changed at the last minute. “They let me know he was going up for a hearing, but they didn’t let me know the judgment, or when he was to be released. I’m assuming you didn’t hear that either?”

She shook her head, her gaze going unfocused as she stared out the window beyond the table. She managed to whisper, “Is he out now?”

He nodded, hating the fearful desperation he could see creeping into her face. “I’m sorry, Cheyenne. I did everything I was supposed to do but things still fell through the cracks.”

She waved a hand and forced a smile. Sheridan admired her for being the strong woman she was. This was a shock, but she would rally to protect her kids. “I think you should think about moving in with your mom and dad or something.”

She winced, obviously going through logistics in her head. “They’re getting ready for Chad’s wedding. And the shower. They’re not going to want us cluttering up the house again.”

He frowned. Knowing her parents, they’d love every minute of it. A tidy or orderly house was nothing compared to the safety of their daughter and granddaughters.

“So, you haven’t seen anything recently? Or heard anything?”

She shook her head, her arms crossed beneath her breasts. “No, it’s been pretty quiet out our way. It might take him a while to figure out where we moved to. I mean, we don’t live in the same house we did with him.”

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