Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)

“Your beef is with Richard, not me.”


“I work with you.”

She conceded. “And had I seen you, it would have come up.” She needed to decompress the situation. Working with the man wasn’t optional, it was mandatory. “I’ll stop by tomorrow and talk with both you and Caroline about the whole thing. It really wasn’t that big of a deal, but Drew knows he messed up.”

Karl’s breaths slowed down. “You should have called me.”

“Your point is taken, Karl. Now if you don’t mind, it’s been a busy day.” She reached behind him and opened the door.

He left without a backward glance.

She closed the door and leaned her forehead against it.

Gill came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist to gather her close.

“I am so done.”

He kissed the space between her shoulder and her neck and whispered in her ear. “I know, sweetheart. Come on. Let me help you forget about all this for a few hours.”

Jo reached around and held his arms close before turning her head toward his. “A few hours?” she teased.

“I’ll do my best.”

He lifted her in his arms and walked them back into her bedroom.





Chapter Eighteen




Gill moaned when Jo woke at the ass crack of dawn and put on her running shoes.

“You can come with me.”

He reached for her, pulled her completely clothed body on top of him. “I’d rather bench press you.”

She gave his bicep a love bite. “The only bench press we have is at the high school, and even then, I doubt it would be much of a challenge for these.”

When she pushed away, he released her. “I’ll find a Harley to swing around.”

“Like the one you drove here?”

“I’d probably drop it.” He wouldn’t. It was his most prized possession. The small house he’d bought in Eugene could go up in flames, but his bike . . . now that was another story.

“Today is a wash and repeat from yesterday.”

He was starting to see her frustration. “With less drama, I hope.”

“That would be nice.”

He leaned up on one arm, watched her gather her keys and a windbreaker. “You know I’ve been going over your father’s files.”

Jo met his gaze. “I know. I assumed you hadn’t come to any conclusions or you would have told me.”

“I haven’t. But I’d like to see the cabin. Mind if I go up there today while you’re working?”

Indecision swam in her eyes. “I don’t go up there.”

“You don’t have to go with me. Miss Gina said she knew where it was.”

Her half smile had an edge of vulnerability.

“There’s a swing on the porch, to the right of it is a statue of a dog. The key is hidden under the dog.”

He had to laugh. “Where everyone would know to look.”

She smiled. “Yeah. My dad wouldn’t say no to someone needing to use it anyway.”

Gill swung his legs out of bed, walked his naked body next to hers.

Jo’s lingering gaze made him stand a little taller. She didn’t hide her appreciation of his body and wasn’t shy with her own.

“I’ll see you this afternoon.”

He kissed her briefly.

“Don’t expect dinner on the table,” she said.

“I saw frozen pizza. We won’t starve.”

She unclipped a set of keys from her keychain. “For my Jeep. The roads up there aren’t maintained, and the recent rain might be difficult on your bike.”

“I don’t think Miss Gina would appreciate the Harley.”

Jo barked a laugh. “Miss Gina would give her right boob for your bike. Problem is, she would be propositioning you for that and more after an hour on it.”

Gill blinked a few times, then squeezed his eyes shut to remove the image of Miss Gina getting turned on by his Harley. “Bad image,” he moaned.

“She’s harmless.” Jo kissed him again and slapped his bare ass. “I’ll see you later.”



The road was a mess.

Miss Gina held on and didn’t complain once. In fact, she grinned the whole time they were on the road.

“I haven’t been up here in years. Too bad, too. Sure is beautiful.”

Gill’s eyes were on the holes, ruts, and rocks that had slid down to make the path to the Ward hunting cabin nearly impassable.

“Jo said she doesn’t come up here.”

“She doesn’t. After Joseph’s death, once we had it all cleaned up, she did. And a few times once she became our sheriff.” Miss Gina looked out the window. “Too many memories for her.”

“Her dad dying up here can’t help.”

“See those trees?” She pointed to a patch of maples. “Turn right.”

Gill slowed down. “Is this a road?”

“More or less.”

More like less. Gill turned right, managed to get through a thicket of trees and then out into an open field of green and wildflowers. Jo’s Jeep laughed at the excuse of a driveway as they inched closer to the lone house that overlooked the small thicket below.

Gill stopped the car at the base of the stairs and looked through the window. “Wow.”

“It’s a man’s cabin. Off the grid one hundred percent,” Miss Gina told him. She swung the door open before he managed to turn off the engine. Outside, the woman lifted both arms to the open air as if sucking it in. “I could use a joint,” she said, tossing her head back.

Gill couldn’t help but laugh. “The sixties were good to you?”

“The best days ever.” She opened one eye to regard him. “No joint?”

“Fresh out,” he told her.

“Shit. Okay.” Her arms fell to her sides and she took the steps one at a time.

The log cabin was made from real logs and not some facade that mimicked the real thing. From the outside, it looked like the entire place was less than six hundred square feet. The outside had a small deck, one that ran the length of the home, with a two-person swing that filled the majority of the porch. Gill found the faded statue Jo had told him about and then the key.

Miss Gina leaned on the rail and looked below. “I keep waiting for Jo to have an easier time with her father’s death to ask if I can get up here once in a while.”

“She’d probably be okay with it.” From what Gill had learned about the woman, she wasn’t attached to the place but couldn’t bear to part with it either.

“Not until she finds her father’s killer. Then she’ll be ready.”

Gill hesitated before twisting the key in the lock. “She told you her theory about her dad?”

Miss Gina shook her head. “No. I know she’s mentioned it to Mel and Zoe. Not a word to me.”

“It could have been an accident,” he said.

The humor faded from Miss Gina’s face. “Joseph Ward was murdered.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Same way Jo is so sure. The man was meticulous about his weapons, anal about how he cared for them. Borderline OCD when it came to that stuff. Him accidentally shooting himself would be like me accidentally lighting my inn on fire with a blowtorch and gasoline.”

“If you were so sure, why not make people listen back when he died?”