Page 133 of Backtrack

“I reckon not,” Lola said.

“He loved me once, you know,” Joellen sniffed. “I don’t see why you have to be so mean.”

“You’re right,” Lola said, softening. “I’m sorry. Just protective. That’s all. I’m glad you’re safe.”

Joellen gave her a wary look. “I can’t tell if the other shoe is about to drop.”

“Yeah, nah,” Lola said. “I don’t beat around the bush. Ever.”

Joellen shook Lola’s hand and then turned to Cutter. “So, this is goodbye, then.”

“Indeed,” he said. “Safe travels, Joellen.”

“Thanks for coming to save me.”

Cutter put a knuckle to his forehead and gave her a nod. These Southern goodbyes could go on for eternity if he kept talking.

Lola heaved a heavy sigh.

“And she walked off into the sunset …” She looked at Joellen. “That means you. Go on. Walk off into the sunset …”

“Aaaand she’s back.” Joellen chuckled and turned to make her way down Broadway towardThe Polar Star.

“Now,” Cutter said to Johnson. “Tell me about these diamonds.”

The sheriff told him the entire story, repeating the best parts about Grumpy a couple of times.

Arliss nodded slowly, deep in thought by the time Johnson finished.

“Your grandpa was the best man I’ve ever even heard of.”

“Me too,” Cutter said.

Lola moved in close, shoulder to shoulder with Cutter. “Not me,” she said.

Johnson chuckled. “Arliss is a pretty fair approximation. I’ll grant you that.” His silver mustache fell into a solemn frown.

“You okay?” Lola asked.

“Truth be told, no,” Johnson said. “I had my heart set on putting this whole diamond business to rest.”

Cutter gave another nod, his eyes gleaming.

“How about we talk it through one more time.”

CHAPTER 59

“You make a delicious leg of lamb, my dear,” Cutter said after his mother and sister had gone and the kids were in bed, if not asleep.

Mim gave a shy smile. “You think it impressed Ursula?”

“It should have,” Cutter said. “But my mother thinks Arby’s is fine dining. My sister had seconds. Pretty sure teenage girls are incapable of lying about food they don’t like.”

“I like that Opal and Constance are getting along.” Mim slipped out of her maternity pants and into a loose pair of pajama shorts. Cutter’s Marshals Service shirts, once her favorite sleeping attire, now fit her like halter tops. She pulled an extra-large “Alaska Grown” T-shirt out of her dresser. “Thanks for coming home in time to make gravy,” she said as she squirmed into the shirt.

“I promised I would.”

She fell onto the bed and rolled onto her side with a big pillow between her knees. Cutter stood rooted in place, looking at her, choking up at the sight of her.