Timid (Lark Cove, #2)

“It’s Logan,” he corrected. “So what brings you here?”


Porter’s eyes shifted down to me. He had such kind eyes, but even though they were gentle, the look in them sent every worst-case scenario running through my head. Was it a car crash? Had Mom gotten hurt at home? Was there an emergency at the school?

He spoke before I could ask. “I’m breaking protocol by being here, but Jackson asked me to personally come down and tell you. He didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

My arms began shaking and I wrapped them around my stomach. “What happened?”

He took a deep breath. “Sheriff Magee arrested Jackson about an hour ago.”

“What?” My jaw dropped. “That’s impossible. Jackson is in Kalispell, getting my car cleaned.”

“No, he’s not. Sheriff found him at the bar and brought him into the station. Like I said, he could have called you, but he asked me to come down.”

“Why? Why was he arrested?”

Porter took another long breath. “He’s the primary suspect in a murder.”

My legs turned to jelly and I nearly fell over. I would have if not for Logan grabbing my elbow to steady me.

“This has to be a mistake,” I said. “It’s a mistake.”

“Who is he accused of killing?” Logan asked.

Porter’s eyes reluctantly came to mine. “His mother.”





“It’s three,” Mom said after checking her watch. “Ryder will be getting out of school before long. One of us should be there when he gets home.”

I nodded. “Would you mind going to Jackson’s? I don’t want to leave.”

“Of course.” She gathered up her purse and coat from a chair in the sheriff’s station’s waiting room. I’d called her on the drive down here from the camp because for situations like this, I still needed my mom. “Call me if you hear anything.”

I nodded again and dug Jackson’s truck keys from my puffer coat. His truck was in the parking lot next to Logan’s SUV. My car was parked at the bar because he’d been brought to the sheriff’s station in the back of a cop car like a criminal.

My mouth flooded with saliva and I swallowed it down. The nausea took a second to go away, but it would be back. Every time I thought of Jackson in a jail cell, I fought the urge to puke.

I was desperate for information but we’d been sitting here for hours and no one had told us a thing.

With tears in my eyes, I took Jackson’s house key off the chain and handed it over to Mom. “It’s for the side garage door.”

“Okay. I’ll take care of Ryder. You just stay strong.” Mom squeezed my shoulder, but before she could leave, I grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t tell him anything.”

She shook her head. “I won’t.”

Someone would have to explain to Ryder that his mother was dead and Jackson was being accused of her murder. That someone should be Jackson.

Or me, if he was going to be held in custody all night.

As Mom walked out the door, I pulled my coat further up my neck, burrowing inside. It was freezing in the little lobby where we were sitting, or maybe it was just me. Everyone else had taken their coats off and seemed fine with the room’s temperature.

But I couldn’t stay warm, even with the coffee cup that people kept refilling for me. The thought of Jackson being accused of murder chilled me to the bone. The thought of having to tell Ryder this was happening made me shake. I wanted to go back to this morning when Jackson and I had been snuggled warm in his bed.

The front door to the station opened—Hazel coming back inside from her smoke break.

“Anything?”

I shook my head as Thea did the same from the chair across from me.

Thea’s hands kept patting her stomach. You couldn’t tell she was pregnant—it was too soon for her to be showing—but that gesture gave it away. It was her nervous tell, whereas mine was my bouncing feet on the floor.

Thea and Hazel had walked into the sheriff’s station just seconds after I’d come in with Logan. Hazel had led the charge to the front desk, marching up to the deputy stationed there and demanding to see Jackson.

The deputy had politely but firmly told us it wasn’t possible. Jackson had to be “processed” and “questioned” before they could determine whether or not he could be released.

Hazel protested and she put up a good fight, but the deputy didn’t budge. So we’d all sat down in the lobby while Jackson was somewhere in the building. The nausea rolled again when I thought about him getting fingerprinted and having his mug shot taken.

He was not a criminal.

Hazel dropped her pack of cigarettes and lighter into her purse. “I’m going to go ask again.”

She stomped up to the desk and put her hands on her hips. Her back was blocking the view of the deputy’s face so I couldn’t make out what he told her. I didn’t need to. The way her shoulders sank and her arms fell to her sides said it all.

Hazel nodded to the deputy, then came back to her seat next to Thea.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered. “Do you know him?” she asked Thea, nodding backward at the deputy.

“No, he’s new. I think he lives up in Kalispell and commutes down here. He hasn’t been into the bar yet.”

Hazel frowned. “I used to know all of the deputies. I had them all on speed dial in case there was a problem at the bar.”

“I’ve got Sheriff Magee’s and Porter’s numbers both memorized.” Thea hung her head. “But I haven’t called either of them in ages. If there’s a problem, I call Jackson first.”

She looked up and met my eyes. We were both thinking the same thing.

What will I do without him?

Our stare was broken up when Logan walked over, tucking his phone into his jeans. He’d been on and off various calls since we’d walked into the station.

“They got ahold of her.” He sat on Thea’s other side and took her hand. “She’s getting off the ski hill and will be here as soon as possible.”

Logan’s first string of phone calls had been to attorneys up in Kalispell. There wasn’t a plethora of lawyers in rural Montana, especially those with experience in murder investigations. But after numerous calls, Logan had found one who had excellent references and adequate experience—or so he’d deemed.

The problem was that the lawyer Logan wanted for Jackson, a Rita Sperry, had taken the day off to go skiing. Her office had called her a thousand times, mostly after each one of Logan’s thousand calls to see if she’d checked in yet.

Finally, after we’d sat here all day feeling lost and hopeless, help was on the way.

I just hoped Jackson hadn’t said too much already without an attorney present.

“I think we’d better make a plan just in case he doesn’t get out,” Thea told Logan.

He shook his head. “We’ll get him out.”

“How do you know?” Thea rubbed her belly in fast circles. “This lawyer might not be able to do anything today. This is a criminal charge, Logan. He could go to prison. He could—”

“Hey.” Logan placed his hand over hers. “We’ll get him out today, then we’ll figure out the next step.”

Tears welled in Thea’s eyes. “But what if he did it?”

I winced so hard my chair squeaked. How could she have let that thought even cross her mind?

“He didn’t,” I declared. “He did not do this.”

I looked over at Hazel for some support, but her gaze was down in her lap.

“He did not do this,” I repeated.

Hazel looked up and gave me a sad smile. “I don’t want to think that either. But—”

“No,” I snapped. “No. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.”

Thea checked over her shoulder to make sure the deputy at the desk wasn’t listening. When she saw he was on the phone, she turned back and leaned in close. “He hated her. He had every right, but he hated her.”

“Enough to murder her?” I hissed. “That’s not Jackson and you know it. Yes, he hated her. But do you really think he would hurt her?”

She sighed. “No, I don’t.”

I turned my eyes on Hazel. “Do you?”

Hazel shook her head. “No.”

“Logan?”

He shook his head too.