Truth Be Told. Barbara McMahon

I was living in Boston until about a month and a half ago,” Eliza said.

      “And I live in Paris,” April said, smiling happily. “I’ve been back a few weeks. And we finally tracked you down to L.A. Could we have been living farther apart? How did you know to come home? Instinct?”

      Jo shook her head, trying to assimilate all the news. “You’ve been trying to reach me?”

      “Yes, we got your phone number in L.A. At least we think it’s yours.” April rattled off the number.

      Jo nodded.

      “I’ve been calling for days,” April said again. “You’re here now. I can’t believe it. Come in. Let me shut the door. This heat is horrific.”

      She reached behind Jo and started to close the door, then hesitated.

      “Sam’s here,” she said.

      Eliza looked over her shoulder. “Sam Witt? Wonder why?”

      Jo turned and saw the sheriff climb out of his car.

      “Probably making sure I’m not stealing the silver,” she said, watching him as he approached the back door. He was tall and nicely put together. His hair was dark, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The uniform was immaculate, despite the heat and humidity. He looked to be in his early thirties, much younger than the former sheriff.

      Jo’s two old friends looked at her, and April wrinkled her nose. “You do look like biker trash in that outfit. What’s with all the black? It’s not your best color.”

      Before Jo could reply, Sam stepped up on the back porch and peered in through the screen door.

      “Everything all right, ladies?” he asked.

      Eliza stepped around Jo and pushed open the screen door. “Come in and meet Jo. She just showed up.”

      Sam stepped inside, his expression guarded. He took off the sunglasses, and Jo was surprised at the velvet darkness of his eyes. His assessing look, however, was one she was familiar with. The good sheriff didn’t trust her. He gave her a look law enforcement the world over knew. But if the mood took her, she could give as good as she got.

      Right now, Jo felt a spurt of amusement. She knew what he thought. She had left her gun at home, not wanting to have to explain it on the airplane. But she did have her badge and credentials, and courtesy demanded she tell the sheriff. An imp of mischief stilled her tongue.

      “Jo Hunter, of Los Angeles?” he said.

      She inclined her head.

      “We had a hard time locating you.”

      “She ended up coming home without us,” April said. “I never got an answer on her phone. She just showed up.”

      “I heard about Maddie,” Jo said quietly. “How is she?” She held her breath, hoping she wasn’t too late.

      “Me, too,” Eliza said. “That’s why I came, because of her stroke. She’s doing better. Then I found April’s number and called her. We’ve been searching for you for weeks. It’s so good to see you!” Eliza reached out and rubbed Jo’s arm. Jo remembered Eliza had always been a touchy person. No one had touched Jo in friendship in a long time.

      Jo looked around the old kitchen before she got all sentimental. “Not much seems to have changed. You’re still cooking.” Then she looked at April, in a gauzy sundress that floated around her legs, and smiled. “Fancy dress for lazing around the house,” she said.

      “Same old Jo—two minutes getting dressed and then you’re ready for the day,” April replied.

      Jo laughed, then swung her gaze to the sheriff. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Sheriff. I heard about Maddie and came back to see her.” She turned to Eliza. “Is she really doing better?”

      “Recovering more and more every day,” her friend answered. “She’ll want to see you right away. We told her we were searching. She hired a private detective to find you and April a few years ago. That’s how I located April, but the detective didn’t find you.”

      “Mary Jo Hunter,” Sam murmured. “Everyone thought Jo was your only name.”

      “Yeah, well, Mary is only used on official documents,” she said. It felt odd to be standing in the kitchen, talking as if they hadn’t been away for more than twelve years. She half expected Maddie to come in to ask if they didn’t have something better to do than stand around wasting time.

      “Oops, better check dinner,” Eliza said, dashing back to the stove. “Bring in your suitcase, Jo, and plan to stay here. April and I are both already in residence. You won’t believe what’s going on. The house is being renovated, so it’s a mess. We’re planning a fund-raiser at the Independence Day fair for Maddie’s medical expenses. We have so much to catch up on! And after dinner, you can go see Maddie. She’s doing a lot better than when I first saw her—she’s walking with help and can sit up on her own. She can’t talk very well, though.”

      “Aphasia,” April said. “Scrambled lines between her mind and her mouth. But she understands everything—at least we think she does. And she can write, after a fashion, but it takes her forever to get a sentence down. There’s hope one day she’ll fully recover.” She turned to Sam. “Can you stay for dinner?”

      “Thanks, but not tonight—I’m on duty,” he said. “Is Jack coming over?”

      “Of course.” April smiled at him and then at Jo. “I just got engaged!” She waved a sparkling diamond in front of Jo’s face. “To the most wonderful man in the world. When he isn’t driving me crazy, that is.”

      Jo grabbed her hand and looked at the ring. The solitaire looked feminine and delicate on April’s slender finger.

      “Congratulations. Anyone I know?”

      “Jack Palmer, former correspondent for CNN and the department head for a new project starting next month. You’ll meet him at dinner.”

      “And you’ll see Cade again,” Eliza said. “Remember him?”

      “Sure. You two have a bunch of kids now?” Jo asked.

      “No. Things happened. Actually, before I came home a few weeks ago, I hadn’t seen him since that day—” Eliza stopped suddenly.

      Jo knew exactly what day she meant.

      Into the awkward silence, Eliza waved her left hand again and announced, “But we’re getting married—as soon as Maddie’s able to attend. Sorry you can’t stay, Sam. Another night, then.”

      “Count on it.” He nodded to Eliza and April and gave Jo another thoughtful look before returning to his car and leaving.

      Things were not what she’d expected, Jo thought as April handed her a glass of iced tea and told her to sit at the table. She tried to grasp the various nuances. The sheriff was a friend. Of course, he was nothing like the sheriff who’d held office when she was a teenager. April lived in Paris. As in France? She’d have to get that straight. It seemed as if a time warp had happened. Eliza and Cade were getting married—about ten years later than Jo had expected. She had a lot to catch up on.

      “This will simmer for a while,” Eliza said, putting the wooden spoon on a holder on the counter and turning back to Jo and April. “Let’s get your bags and find you a room. The second floor is a mess. I figure you can have that back corner bedroom. I don’t think they’ve started in there.”

      “It’s pretty small,” April said.

      “I don’t have to stay here,” Jo said. She felt uncomfortable. They acted as if she weren’t to blame for breaking them up. Didn’t they know? If not, she knew she’d have to explain the events that led up to their being sent to different foster homes twelve years ago. She was surprised the topic hadn’t been the first thing out of their mouths.

      “Of course