“That’s not what I want. I need someone who can handle the uncertainty. I believe you’re that person, but you need to be honest with me.” Sheriff Huggins spoke with the authority of a military general prepared for battle. “I don’t want any mistakes.”

“You have my word, sir. No mistakes.” A foreboding feeling grew in the pit of Charlie’s stomach even as the promise left his lips. He had let his father down. And Tate. Leaving the Marines was supposed to be a decision that brought him peace, but what if his dad was right? He couldn’t let his uncle down, or the citizens of Walton. The pretty face of one in particular came to mind. No. Charlie would do whatever it took to prove he was not the man his father believed him to be—there would be no mistakes.

“Maybe my sister should be the one running for political office.” Lane blew her bangs off her forehead, maneuvering another rectangular box into a corner. “If I knew how much space these things were going to take up, I’d never have agreed to hold it all.”

“Meagan does have a way of getting what she wants.” Ms. Byrdie winked. “I can make some room in the pantry closet. We could move some of the smaller ones into there.”

“That’s okay.” Lane held an oblong box and studied her stack, finding a small space to stick it. “Meagan’s supposed to come by so we can go through and catalog the items for the auction.”

“Speaking of which, if you and Noah don’t get cleaned up now, you’ll be late.” Ms. Byrdie used the hem of her apron to wipe flour dust from Noah’s face. He giggled. “I’ll finish cleaning down here and lock up.”

Today, Lane’s father, Judge Raymond Sullivan, and his family would be dedicating the new community center to the city of Walton and it was imperative, her father said, that the whole family be there. Exposure was everything during election season. The right exposure equals votes. The wrong exposure loses them. Lane had heard her father’s mantra her entire life. And nothing won more votes than a strong family. Too bad they were nothing like a strong family.

That last thought drew Deputy Charlie Lynch’s face to mind. “Why didn’t you tell me about your nephew?”

Ms. Byrdie stopped wiping Noah’s chin. “I did, honey. A couple of times, actually.”

“No, I mean you told me that your nephew was coming, but you didn’t tell me about him.” Lane picked at the corner of a shipping label with her thumbnail. “Not, like, details.”

“What, that he was handsome?”

“I didn’t say that.” Lane’s gaze swung up to Ms. Byrdie’s. “He’s older than I expected. Surprised me.”