“I’ll walk you back to the clinic,” the mayor said, smiling as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “I’m sure Mrs. Colson’ll be happy to give you a tour of the place.”

Sherry ground her teeth and bit back a tart reply. Until she had the legal clout she needed, there was no point in voicing any more protests.

Instead, Sheriff Billy Bob himself escorted her down the street and around the corner to the clinic. The middle-aged receptionist introduced herself as Mrs. Colson and greeted Sherry with a warm smile. “I’m so glad you decided to stay.”

“You make her welcome now,” the sheriff instructed.

“You know I will,” Mrs. Colson told him, standing and coming around the counter. “You can go on now,” she told Billy Bob and, taking him by the elbow, escorted him out the door. She turned to Sherry. “Billy Bob can outstare a polecat, but underneath that tough hide of his, he’s gentle as a baby.”

Sherry swallowed a retort as the receptionist went on to extol the sheriff’s virtues.

“One of those multitalented folks you read so much about. Not only does he uphold the law around these parts, but he makes the best barbecue sauce in the state. Wait till you taste it. Everyone thinks he should bottle and sell it, but I doubt he will.”

“How…unfortunate,” was all Sherry could manage.

Her mood didn’t improve as Mrs. Colson gave her the grand tour. Despite her frame of mind, Sherry was impressed with the clinic’s modern equipment and pleased with the small apartment at one end of the building that would serve as her living quarters.

“Doc’s sure glad to get away for a few days,” Mrs. Colson said amicably, ignoring Sherry’s sour mood. “I can’t even remember the last time he had more than a day to himself. He talks about fishing a lot—gets a pile of those magazines and catalogs. In the twenty years I’ve known him, I don’t believe I’ve seen him livelier than he was today after you arrived. Guess he was thinking he’d best skedaddle before you changed your mind. I’m sure glad you didn’t.”

Sherry’s answering smile was weak. Between Dan Bowie, Doc Lindsey and Billy Bob, she’d been completely hog-tied.

“So Dr. Lindsey’s been practicing in Pepper for twenty years?” She wondered if, like her, he’d innocently driven into town and been snared. This could be something straight out of that old TV series, The Twilight Zone.

“Thirty years, in fact, maybe more. Most folks think of him as a saint.”

Some saint, Sherry thought. With little more than a nod of his head, he’d abandoned Pepper and her.

Mrs. Colson led her to Doc’s office. “Now make yourself at home. Do you want a cup of coffee?”

“No, thanks,” Sherry answered, walking over to the desk. The telephone caught her eye. As soon as she had a minute alone, she’d call Houston.

But the moment Mrs. Colson left there was a knock at the office door. Sherry groaned. She hadn’t even had time to sit down.