Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)

Barefoot, on mats, in sweatpants was only attractive if you were kicking ass . . . which Jo was not.

She’d always considered herself competent in hand-to-hand combat . . . or at the very least, able to take a perpetrator down despite her size and weight. But for every move in her cop’s toolbox, Shauna had one of equal or greater value that neutralized Jo’s efforts. While Shauna worked with Jo and a handful of other female classmates, Gill knocked around several of the men in an effort to show them their weaknesses and where they could grow.

Then they switched.

“And this is where I get my ass handed to me,” Jo said under her breath.

It wasn’t that Gill smirked when he approached . . . wait, yeah, that was exactly the expression on his face. An I’m going to show you who the strong one is, babe look.

Jo was teamed up with a half dozen women; none reached the height of Gill, and only one competed with his girth. And Bess didn’t look like she spent all her time at the gym. Big boned was the polite term that would be tossed around River Bend.

From the east side of the room someone rolled in a cart full of replica weapons and started dropping sets off with each instructor.

Gill addressed their group as the weapons were passed out. “Chances are you’ll have a weapon on you, and your opponent will know it. So for the purpose of these exercises, we’re going to increase your chances of overtaking your opponent’s weapons or ensuring yours stay with you.”

Gill glanced up, met Jo’s eyes. “JoAnne?” He motioned her forward.

“Jo is fine.”

“Great . . . take a weapon, Jo.”

She grasped a purple mock handgun similar to hers and turned toward Gill.

“Some of these tactics you’ve seen before, some you’ve practiced, but my guess is you haven’t spent a lot of time on mats perfecting your skills like you did when you were training to carry a badge.” Gill kept talking. “It’s one of the things that separate this department from yours.”

Jo stood beside Gill, waiting for him to finish.

“Jo, you work in a small town, right?”

“That’s right.”

“When was the last time someone went for your gun?”

She thought about the scuffle in Josie’s bar and shook it off. “I can’t say anyone has.” Saying that out loud made her realize how inept she was.

“All right then . . . let’s begin.”

Three times Gill had her point the gun at him at point-blank range, three times he disarmed her before she could blink and had the gun on her. Each time he took her weapon away, he did it differently, from several angles and positions. The fourth time, he had her gun, and her pinned to the ground.

“In tiny, little pieces, Anne!” he said so only she could hear.

He stood, held out a hand for her to take.

“Now let’s slow all that down and practice,” Gill addressed the class.

Jo limped off the base hours later with the need for an ice pack and a shot of anything, as long as it was strong.



Gill sat beside Shauna at a bar not far off base.

“So, Sheriff Ward?” Gill opened the conversation over a beer.

Shauna glanced at her watch, huffed out a laugh. “Less than two minutes, Clausen. Not bad.”

He twisted his frame on the supersmall bar stool and glared. “What?”

“She’s single.”

“Who?”

“Jo. Sheriff Ward. Keep up!” Shauna tilted her glass back with a grin. “Go on . . . you want to know something about Jo?”

Right. He wanted to know something about the mirage that shimmered out of his weekend and walked into his week. “What’s her story?”

Shauna studied the inside of her glass. “I already told you. River Bend’s sheriff, had a steady head when I was there investigating the disappearance of the girl. We chat once in a while.” A look of concern crossed his partner’s face before she took another drink.

“And?”

She shook her head. “I think she’s bored in that small town. Probably ready to find something new to keep her in law enforcement.”

He and Shauna hadn’t been partners for very long. In fact, he’d moved to Eugene to help the West Coast arm of missing persons a few months after the Hope Bartlett case. He knew where River Bend was on a map, but he’d never been there.

“She grew up there, right?”

“Yeah, her dad was the sheriff before her.”

“Was?”

Shauna lifted both hands and made quotation marks in the air. “‘Accidentally’ shot himself ten years ago. Jo joined the academy and the town voted her in as soon as they were able.”

“She’s a little young to be the sheriff.”

“Not for River Bend. They adore her.”

He could see why. Honey brown hair, snarky grin, with enough spice under her skin to make him think about her long after she’d left his bed. He knew when he pulled her into his room it would be a onetime thing. But when she’d been gone in the morning, he’d craved.

Gill never craved.

Lost in his thoughts, he felt his partner’s stare and met it.

“I have her cell number.”

So did he; he pilfered it off her paperwork.

“She’s single,” Shauna said again.

“I don’t remember asking.”

Shauna laughed and turned back around in her chair. “She’s a smart cop. Level headed . . . too good for where she lives, if you ask me.”

“You think this week is an exercise to see if she’s ready for something else?”

“I think there are a couple of things eating at Jo, one of which is her desire to move on to something bigger than Nowhere, Oregon.”

Gill waited for Shauna to elaborate.

Only his partner took another pull on her beer and didn’t.

“What would the other thing—”

She interrupted him. “If I thought you were interested in Jo for professional reasons, I’d tell ya, but since I think this is a boy girl thing . . . I’m going to play the gender loyalty card and suggest you call and ask her yourself.”

Shauna gave a sideways glance and a smirk.

“When’s that divorce of yours final?” he asked, knowing full well she was in the middle of trying to keep her retirement she’d managed to build in the time she’d been an agent. Her soon-to-be ex worked in security but wasn’t a Fed. His benefit plan for old age was nothing compared to hers.

“Not soon enough.”

It was Gill’s turn to smirk. “I’ll remember to play the ‘gender loyalty’ card when it is.”

“Touché.”





Chapter Seven




The beat-up sedans were tinted and framed with extra bumpers to keep those inside the cars as safe as they could be while on the 1.1-mile track housed by the TEVOC training center. Jo’s excitement over the Tactical and Emergency Vehicle Operation Center driving course fueled the smile on her face as she sat in the passenger space of the car. Lenny buckled in as the driver, and she was supposed to keep him informed of what was happening around him when things got dicey.

And things were about to get dicey!

“Don’t kill me,” she told Lenny as she fastened her seat belt.