Page 69 of Trouble Comes in Threes

My blood ran cold. I knew he was talking in general, but my mind naturally turned to Hope. All it would take was one of those trendy at-home genetics tests, and she’d find out that Joe wasn’t her biological father. But would she find out who’d helped conceive her?

Well, that was trouble for another day.

“So you think I should tell her?”

“That’s a decision for you and Joe to make, but if she’s curious enough, she’ll find the answers—with or without you.”

I started to respond, but the waitress brought our food.

When she left, Randy said, “Just think about it.”

“It’s good advice,” I said with a soft smile. “You’re gonna make a great dad one day.”

He blushed again. “We’ll see.”

I picked up half of my sandwich as I shifted the conversation. “Do things seem to be falling into place at the sheriff’s department since Joe took over?”

Randy picked up the ketchup bottle at the end of the table, put some on top of his burger, and then added some to his plate next to his fries. “The transition wasn’t that rough, to be honest. Sure, there were some guys who were difficult, but Joe was already their boss before he quit a few years ago. He slipped in pretty effortlessly.” He hesitated. “Does Joe think differently?”

“No.” I took a bite, then set my sandwich down as I chewed. “I think he expects too much from himself.”

“He wants to do a good job and be a good leader. And he truly wants to clean up crime in the county.”

“Seems like putting Denny Carmichael away helped with that,” I said.

He considered it for a moment. “I suppose you’re right. The feds took care of busting Carmichael and his gang. After he and Malcolm were arrested, the crime rate went down.”

I decided to bring up Austin’s accusation. “Have you heard anything about deputies treating teenagers from Pickle Junction differently?”

His eyes narrowed. “How so?”

“Like being less understanding.” I shrugged. “Presuming the worst.”

He pinned me with his gaze. “What brought this on?”

I knew he’d want to know what prompted my question. I should have already come up with a plan.

He set down his burger. “Is this your roundabout way of trying to get more information about the murder from yesterday?”

“No.” I hesitated, trying to figure out how to word this. “I recently spoke to someone whom I encouraged to contact the sheriff’s department, but he refused, saying he wouldn’t be treated fairly.”

His brow furrowed. “I see.”

“This person was with someone else, and they both agreed he shouldn’t contact the sheriff.”

“And they wouldn’t contact us because they thought they’d be treated unfairly?”

“Yes.”

He was silent for a moment as he picked up a fry. “And has this person been treated unfairly before?”

“Yes, which made them even more reluctant to contact y’all.”

“Do you know why they wanted to contact us this time?”

“Yes, but I’m not at liberty to say what it was, so don’t ask.”

“I see,” he said with a nod. “Was it serious?”

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