“I do. Just a second.” She headed to her tiny office and came back with a folder containing the few scraps. “It’s a copy of the receipt. Is that a problem? I have the original but I’d like to keep it for my normal records.”
“No, though I wouldn’t toss out the original just yet.” White took the folder and opened it, glancing down the list. “Thanks for this. Saves us a little legwork and helps to close things faster.”
“Best all around,” Jo said, agreeing with that. “Can I do anything else for you?”
“Well …” White looked around, then leaned in a little farther. “Just so you know, there’s been a petition to the city council to shut you down.”
“What?” she shrieked, then clamped a hand over her mouth. She saw her servers staring at her from the back wall, but she waved off their curious glances. “Sorry,” she tried again, quietly. “Why in the world would—”
“Jeffrey Junior’s mom.” White shrugged, as if it wasn’t any big deal. “She’s sticking by his story that you’re an alcohol pusher. Took advantage of the kid, led him astray, it’s not his fault, yadda-yadda.”
“I’m assuming she thinks if she gets you shut down, or even just tosses suspicion at you, it makes her son’s story look more legit.” Nelson gave her a sad smile. “She’s got some pull, I hate to say. Unfortunately, that’s not police business. What we do doesn’t have too much to do with licenses and the like. I don’t know how easily she could have you actually shut down for any period of time, but the odds are good she will at least give you a headache.”
“I’ve got aspirin,” she murmured, and they both chuckled. She stared off into the distance for a moment. “So what, I have to just go plead my case to the city council? Tell them my side of the story and let them know I’m not an irresponsible businessowner?”
“Well …” White said.
Jo’s stomach plummeted.
“She’s also mentioning something about you running a bordello in the bar, or just above the bar, or something like that. That men are seen coming and going often.”
Jesus. A bordello. What was this, 1880? “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
Nelson looked completely uncomfortable with the whole thing. “We are supposed to give a quick glance around today, with your permission. We don’t have a warrant, but it was asked that we try.”
Jo shrugged. “You can look wherever you want.” She dug in her pockets and held out her key ring by one key. “My apartment is upstairs. Lock up behind you when you’re done.”
The officers looked at each other, as if debating the wisdom of taking her at face value. Then Nelson took the keys with an outstretched palm. “We won’t be long.”
“I’m sure you won’t.” The implication of because I have nothing to hide wasn’t lost on either of them, she noted, as they nodded.
The moment the door closed behind them, she turned on her heel and walked through the kitchen, ignoring Stu’s questioning look, and straight into the back alley. She doubted anyone would follow her.
And there, in the quiet morning, she bit her lip to fight back the tears.
She’d been praying this was her fresh start. She’d been here a year, damn it. And suddenly, because one stupid kid had done something dumb, and one community leader decided she didn’t want her precious boy to face the consequences, the city was ready to toss her out on her ass.
She pinched her arm to focus on something other than the tears. Focus on the anger. Focus on her resentment at being treated like a second-class citizen because she was new. Not being considered trustworthy, despite her spotless records and fair business management.
She’d show them. Maybe someone else would take this as a sign to skip town and start over somewhere else. She wasn’t going to. Hell, no. She’d been drawn to this place, this bar, before she even knew what the town’s name was. And she wasn’t going to give up on it without a fight. This was her chance to grow some roots, and she was doing it.
Jeff—J. J.—freaking Effingham be damned.
Trace walked into the bar, hands in his pockets. He had a real purpose for being there, other than seeing Jo. He was grabbing lunch to take back to the ranch, giving Emma a break and thanking her for babysitting the night before. But still, he could have chosen the diner, or one of the few fast food joints in town. Jo was the main draw, and he had no shame in admitting it.
“Hey, cutie.” Amanda walked up and grabbed his arm, pulling him around the bar and behind it.