Winston darted over, barking and greeting everyone. Lydia wasn’t a fan of his, of dogs in general, Olivia had explained to me, and only one of the men bent to pet the Westie.
“Good morning,” Lydia greeted Emery, smiling warmly, swaddled in a heavy, oversized turtleneck sweater, leggings, and knee-high boots. Her friends were similarly outfitted, and the men were all in sweaters and sports coats and dress shoes. The whole group together reminded me of a beer commercial—pretty people spending quality time together.
What was interesting was that Lydia didn’t cross the room to Emery, and he didn’t go to her. Instead he forced a smile, and having spent this much time with him, I knew what I was talking about. There was a discernable difference in the man when he was truly happy, a relaxation that came over him when he was sitting at the other end of the couch from me or across the dinner table, or on a stool in the kitchen like the last time I’d made grilled cheese sandwiches. I had been ready to leave, finished cooking, when he said he wanted one as well and would I please make it since everybody knew food made by someone else was always better. I’d agreed and I got a smile, his smile, the real one that was completely lacking at the moment.
I was halfway out of the room, leaving to wake the girls to start our day—soccer for Olivia was canceled due to the flu—when there was another knock. I kept going, assuming Emery had more company, but then I heard him say good morning, and there was a familiar rumble in return.
Stopping, I glanced toward the door, and outside on the porch was my buddy, Malachi Jezic.
“Mal,” Emery greeted him as the big man stood there filling the doorway. “Would you like to come in?”
“No.” He sighed after studying Emery for a second. “I just need Brann.”
“Are you sure?”
Mal seemed out of sorts, uncertain, almost sad, and Emery’s face was all scrunched-up like he was upset as well.
“Yeah,” Mal muttered, looking over at me.
Winston ran to Mal then, and the big man bent and picked up the dog like it was the most natural thing in the world. I watched Winston wiggle and then lick his chin as Mal pet him and told him what a good boy he was.
Since when did Mal know Winston? What was I missing?
Darting across the room, I took hold of the door as Emery took Winston from Mal before returning to the others, bumping me gently as he moved by. Mal walked out onto the porch, and I followed him and closed the door behind me.
“Morning,” I greeted him, pointing back over my shoulder. “What was that in there? What’s with you and Emery?”
“Nothing.”
Clearly that wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to pry. “Did we have plans I spaced?”
He looked like he was in pain. Or constipated. It was hard to tell which.
“Mal?”
He cleared his throat. “Have you, uh, seen the ads around town?”
Oh man, it was a shitty time not to have any caffeine in me yet. “Ads?” I said lamely, having no clue what was going on. “The handbills you mean, for the upcoming election?”
“Yes, for sheriff. Those along with the yard signs and the signs along the side of the road,” he replied like he was making perfect sense.
“Probably,” I conceded, sounding unsure, my voice still gravelly because I hadn’t been awake that long and, again, there had been no coffee. “There’s tons of them everywhere. Or there were, I guess. Voting was the first Tuesday of the month, wasn’t it?”
“For the regular elections, yes,” he told me. “But the office of sheriff is a special election that will be held the week of Thanksgiving.”
“Okay,” I said, because I was pretty sure I figured it out. “Do you need me to watch your kids? Are you working at the polling place or something?”
Mal’s wife was one of two pediatricians in town, and since both of them seemed to be involved in lots of community events, perhaps they needed a favor. They had four boys, the youngest was six, like Olivia, the oldest ten, so that would be six for me in all, but I could take them to the indoor trampoline place and let them jump until they wore themselves out.
“No, I don’t need you to watch my kids,” he said, squinting at me.
“Then what’s going on?”
He coughed softly. “You probably don’t know this because you haven’t been here that long, but two years ago, there was some vote tampering.”
I crossed my arms to try and keep in some heat. “Listen, Mal, I appreciate the town history lesson you’re about to give me, but could we maybe go inside where it’s—”
“The sheriff’s race was tampered with two years ago.”