Truth Be Told. Barbara McMahon
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gave her a quick hug, then stepped back. Jo stared at the woman who had done her best to “raise her right.” The woman who’d been there when her own mother had abandoned her responsibilities and left Jo to flounder.
The woman she’d betrayed.
Her throat felt closed. She couldn’t take her eyes off Maddie. She saw every nuance of expression when Maddie realized who stood there. Shock and dismay. Then the struggle to say one word.
“Jo.”
Jo’s heart dropped.
“Hello, Maddie.” The words stuck. She knew what she wanted to say, but just couldn’t.
April and Eliza stared at her, puzzled. She knew she must look like a fool, but her feet seemed rooted to the floor. Suddenly she wished she’d worn blue or pink, though she hadn’t worn either color in more years than she could remember. Black was for widows and old ladies, she remembered Maddie saying. The woman had obviously never been to New York or Los Angeles.
Stupid thing to think about when so much was at stake.
“We didn’t even have to track her down. She heard you were sick and came right away, just like Eliza and I did,” April said.
Maddie hadn’t moved her gaze from Jo. She tried to speak, but as the others had said, only garbled sounds came out after that initial word. Jo could see Maddie was frustrated at her limitations. She obviously wanted to tell her something in the worst way. Jo could just imagine what.
“I won’t stay. My being here’s upsetting you,” Jo said. “I came to tell you I’m sorry for what happened. I never meant to have us all end up scattered. I never meant to get you into trouble. I’m so sorry.”
Maddie tried to say something else, then shook her head.
Jo only gave a half smile and turned to leave.
“Jo!” Eliza called after her.
She didn’t want to hang around. She’d done what she’d come for, not as smoothly as she’d hoped, not as healing, but it was the best she could do. She headed for the elevator. Luck was with her: it was discharging passengers as she reached it. She slipped inside and punched the button for the lobby.
Walking outside a moment later, she stopped. The heat of the day was rapidly building. She felt the sharp contrast to the hospital’s air-conditioning, but now she relished the heat on her skin. She felt chilled inside.
Dispassionately she reviewed the scene, disappointed she didn’t feel better. Somehow she’d thought if she apologized, the guilt of what she’d done would lift. It hadn’t. Of course a hasty sorry and abrupt leave-taking wasn’t quite what she’d pictured, either.
She considered going back, but couldn’t face Maddie. She wouldn’t blame the woman if she never wanted to see her again. And that hurt. Far more than Jo expected. She yearned for the relationship she’d seen between April and Eliza and Maddie. Comfortable with one another. Loving.
Heading for her car, Jo had to decide what to do next. Usually she had every bit of her life laid out—she needed to have plans and backups for the undercover work she did. But now she’d accomplished what she’d set out to do. Feeling deflated and unfulfilled, she wasn’t sure what to do next. She wished she hadn’t agreed to stay for the next few days. Heading back to Los Angeles seemed a brilliant idea right now.
She climbed into the bright red convertible, started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot. She headed out of town, going faster than was safe, as if she could outrun her demons. She hadn’t gotten five miles before she heard the wail of a siren. Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw the flashing lights of a police car. Great, just what she didn’t need!
She checked her speedometer and discovered she was going way over the limit. She hit the brakes and slowly, gradually, pulled to the side of the road, resigned to get a ticket and probably a lecture from the deputy. She could imagine the hoots and hollers of her friends at the department if they ever heard about it. Some of them routinely had tickets, speed acting as an adrenaline release. But she’d never had one before.
She looked in her side mirror as the man got out of the vehicle, lights still flashing. Jo almost groaned when she recognized Sam Witt. He placed his hat on his head, hefted the ticket book and walked to the side of her car.
“Do things a bit differently in California?” he asked when he drew even with her.
“No.”
“Speeding is against the law.”
“So write me a ticket.”
He held out his hand for her license. Jo knew the drill, although she had only worked traffic for six months some years back. She held it out for him to take, then reached over to the glove compartment to withdraw her rental papers. She handed them over, as well, looking straight ahead, fuming. Not at Sam—he was just doing his job.
She was mad at herself. She should never have expected things to change just because she offered an apology. Maddie couldn’t even talk. Did she remember all the hateful words Jo had flung that long-ago day? Why had she thought an apology would fix anything?
SAM STUDIED HER LICENSE. The face on the laminated card was unsmiling. He glanced at her.
Jo gripped the steering wheel so tightly her fingers were white. Staring straight ahead, she didn’t move when he returned her paperwork. He was surprised she didn’t try to talk herself out of a ticket. Usually when caught speeding, cops tried to appeal to the brotherhood of the badge and get out of getting written up. Not Jo.
Sam almost wrote her up, but something held him back. Instead, the rigid way she held herself alerted him something was wrong.
He looked down the highway. It headed north, nothing on it for about forty miles.
“Out seeing the sights?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m just driving.”
“When you take off from here, are you going to keep the speed below the limit posted?” he asked, wishing she’d open up a little.
She nodded. Sighing softly, she looked at him wryly. “I’ll return to town. Driving isn’t going to solve my problem.”
“And what is that problem?”
“Nothing that can be fixed,” she said. “Give me the ticket and I promise not to be caught speeding in your jurisdiction again.”
“Caught speeding? Or won’t speed again, period?”
“Whatever. I’m heading out soon.”
“I thought you were going to help in the Independence Day fund-raiser for Maddie Oglethorpe,” he said. “And I know all about the wedding—I’m Jack’s best man.”
She eyed the ticket pad, then looked at him.
“I’ll give a donation and send the happy couple a gift.”
“Your presence is what Eliza and April want.”
“Yeah, like that’s going to help anything.”
He tapped the closed ticket book against the edge of the car. “Take it easy, Jo. I’m giving you a warning. Don’t speed in my county.”
“That’s it, no ticket?”
“Call it professional courtesy to a fellow officer.”
“One who should know better,” she muttered. He could tell she was embarrassed and angry.
“What are you doing working traffic, anyway?” she said when he stepped back to let her go on her way.
“I’m not. I’m on my way to take a report of a break-in at a farm just up ahead. Saw you taking off like a bat out of hell so I stopped you.”
“I was upset, which is a stupid time to be driving.”