Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)

“I’ll be there.”


The steak in Jo’s throat went cold. As would Gill’s dinner, if she wasn’t mistaken.

He released a sigh as he placed his phone in his back pocket. “I have to go.”

“I thought as much. What’s going on?”

“The kids we’ve had our eye on have organized a rave-style party.”

“So you’re crashing a rave.”

He laughed, looked down at his broad chest. “I don’t blend, JoAnne. But surveillance will give us something, with any luck.”

Jo followed him into her bedroom, where he gathered the small bag he’d brought with him holding a change of clothes and a toothbrush.

“I’m sorry I have to rush out.”

“Don’t be. I completely understand.” Even if she was a little disappointed she wouldn’t be cuddling with the man that night.

Gill wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I’m going to miss you.”

“You’re a distraction,” she told him, not committing to the missing him words.

He kissed her with a smile, warmed into the kiss before letting her go. “Okay, going now.”

She walked him to her garage, opened the door so he could pull his bike out. “Be safe.”

He pulled his helmet over his head, tucked his fingers into riding gloves, and kicked the bike over. With a wink, he backed out of her driveway and waved as he drove away.

She watched until his bike disappeared completely, waited another minute before the noise of the Harley faded. When she turned to go back inside, her skin prickled, and she twisted around. None of her neighbors had stepped outside, but she was fairly certain someone watched.



Mel had roped Jo into doing some crafty crap for the upcoming reunion all day Monday, and then Zoe came over to add her ideas . . . then there were cocktails, as in more than two, which was rare for Jo when in town. Mondays were routinely her day off, and since she’d met Gill, she was reminded to have a life of her own. If he could escape his duty with the FBI, she certainly could manage a day without carrying her gun or wearing her uniform at all.

By Wednesday she was into her routine, her morning run over, the afternoon planned, which included a trip into Waterville with her squad car for the recall. Something about brake failure after fifty thousand miles. There had been enough cars in their fleet to warrant a recall for officer safety. Fitzpatrick was on call, and Emery was at the helm.

All her plans went to hell with one frantic phone call.

“Someone stole her. My Jezebel. Oh, my God. You have to find her.”

Cherie was borderline hysterical.

The call came in as Jo was passing R&B’s. She hit the brakes, which were not yet faulty, to take the call. “Cherie, calm down. Start from the beginning.”

“Someone stole her, Jo. I let Jezebel outside to do her thing. She’s never long. I leave the back door open for her. She’s gone. Gone!” Cherie spoke in short bits and spurts. “The puppies are barking. She never ignores her babies.”

“How long has she been gone?”

“Half an hour.”

Jo checked the time. Chances were the dog chased a squirrel or some such animal and ended up on the other side of the fence. In light of the dog issues, she couldn’t leave without checking around the neighborhood.

“Keep looking for her, I’m on my way over.”

By the time Jo arrived at Cherie’s home, which was on the other end of town, the timeline of the dog’s disappearance ran on forty-five minutes.

From inside the house, Jo heard a couple of the dogs barking at the excitement. She walked around the back instead of knocking on the door. Cherie kept her fence secure; the automatic closing arm and heavy spring couldn’t be manipulated by the dogs.

Cherie was at the far end of the yard, calling the dog’s name.

Making sure the gate was closed behind her, Jo walked along the fence toward Cherie, looking for places the dog could have escaped.

The woman was close to tears. “This isn’t like her. Even before the puppies, she wasn’t the one to run off.”

Jo placed a hand on Cherie’s shoulder. “We’ll find her.”

They walked the fence together. Toward the south corner of the yard, a second gate gave access to the field beyond. The latch was secure. “How often do you use this gate?” Jo asked.

“Daily. I take the dogs on walks out in the woods to avoid my neighbors.”

A path ran from the gate to a patch of trees. “Have you checked out there?”

“To the tree line. I didn’t want to leave the puppies or miss it if she came back.”

“She’ll come back,” Jo assured her.

“This isn’t like her at all. I know my dogs. This is her second litter, and she’s a very good mom. Cried when I found homes for her last puppies.”

Jo didn’t care for the sound of that. “Do any of the dogs wander off to a neighbor’s?”

“The neighbors who called Deputy Emery on me? No.”

Those same neighbors had called Jo, but she wasn’t about to tell her that.

Jo opened the back gate. “You stay here in case she shows up. I’ll search the woods.”

“Okay.” Cherie reached into the pocket of the windbreaker she was wearing. “Here, a treat for her.”

Jo took the dog food and put it in the front pocket of her pants.

It was spring in Oregon, which called for cloudy skies and misty weather most days. This one had a breeze that bordered on brisk. Under the cover of the pine trees, it was downright cold.

Jo walked through an obvious trail, calling the dog’s name. Twenty minutes down the trail, Jo doubled back without luck.

Cherie was on her back porch, the alpha at her side.

“I called my brother.”

“Good. I’ll drive around.”

Cherie wiped a tear from her eyes. “I need to feed her babies.”

Which meant bottles for the puppies and hours of time and effort. It was in the middle of the school day or Jo would solicit some of her runners to help.

“You take care of the puppies, I’ll find their mom. Dogs don’t just disappear.”

Only Cherie didn’t look convinced.



Drew walked behind Tina, her ass keeping the attention of his eyes and the hardness in his dick. Not that he needed a visual for that. He was seventeen, the damn thing had a mind of its own.

He placed both hands on her hips in a playful tickle.

She laughed and skirted out of his reach in a playful way.

He took the action as a positive sign.

“We’re supposed to be looking for a dog.”

The entire distance team was asked to run in different parts of town, in pairs. They could train and try to find a missing dog.

Drew actually liked dogs, and the searching in pairs thing was a complete win when Tina was playing nice.

“We are looking for a dog.” Drew blew a whistle. “We’re also supposed to be running.”