Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)

“Tell me.”


“A round-the-clock feeding team for the puppies that no longer have a mother. And neighbors willing to step up and house the dogs until permanent homes can be found.”

“They don’t sound like your suspects.”

“No, they don’t.”

“I know you have this, but if you need to talk it out, I’m here.”

He heard her sigh over the phone. “Do you ever get that sixth sense thing going . . . the one that tells you something is way off?”

“I get it all the time.”

“Do you ever ignore it?”

“Never.”

“Me either.” Jo sighed again. “Tell me about your day.”

He and Shauna had two more small-time dealers they were following in hopes of finding their source. Gill kept the details short, not used to talking about his cases with anyone but his partner or his boss. He knew he could speak in confidence with Jo but always worked in some sort of silence to avoid possible leaks in his cases.

“What are your weekend plans?” Gill asked, hoping to lure her in his neck of Oregon for an overnight stay.

“Starting guns and timers,” she said.

It took Gill a minute for her words to register. “Track meet.”

“Yeah. River Bend High has an annual invitational that brings in about a dozen teams to compete. It’s our big fundraiser. I’ll be helping with setup on Friday, and the meet is all day Saturday.”

“Looks like I’ll see you Sunday morning.”

“You don’t have to drive all the way—”

He cut her off. “Teenagers party on Friday and Saturday nights. Sunday is better for me.”

“Gill, it’s a long way.”

“Jo, I want to see you.”

“But—”

“Do you know when the last time I drove two hours for a date was?” he asked her.

“No.”

“Never.”

There was a pause on her end. “Why now?”

“Walk into your bathroom.”

“What?”

“Just do it. Walk into your bathroom.” He waited for thirty seconds. “You there?”

“I feel stupid.”

She was there.

“Are you looking in the mirror?”

She sighed . . . an annoyed sigh that translated over the miles.

“Now take your hair out of that rubber band.”

“How do you know my hair is in a rubber band?”

“Is it?”

She sighed again.

Gill laughed.

“I need a haircut,” she said.

“Haircut aside, look at yourself. Tell me what you see.”

Women never saw what men saw. He was fairly certain of how she’d answer his questions.

“I see a washed-up thirty-year-old with dark circles under her eyes.”

“You know what I see?”

Jo barked out a laugh. “A washed-up thirty-year-old with dark circles under her eyes and a rack.”

The thought of her rack warmed his belly. “I do see your rack.”

Jo laughed.

“I see,” he started. “I see your smile under sexy, tired eyes that dilate into a deep, soulful blue when I’m kissing you. I see a woman who works hard and isn’t afraid to sweat for all the right reasons. I see a firm body with a soft rack that turns me on in ways I didn’t know existed.”

“Gill—”

“I’m not done. I see a caring woman who is pissed off she cares so much and doesn’t know how to control it. I see compassion, integrity, and loyalty.”

“Gill—” Her voice was soft.

“I see,” he didn’t let her finish, “all the qualities in a woman a man like me can want.” He hadn’t meant to be so open about his own feelings but left them on the table.

There was a long pause before Jo said anything. “Two people in our profession getting together is a recipe for disaster.”

“Good thing we like danger.”

“You should find some demure debutante who needs you to take care of her.”

He thought of an ex-lover and quickly shook that memory away. “You need me, you just don’t know it yet.”

“Is that right?”

“It’s okay, you’ll catch on.”

Jo laughed, and he could see the smile on her face if he closed his eyes.





Chapter Twenty-One




“I’m being cheated out of my Jo time.”

Jo listened to Mel’s complaint over a stack of colorful paper, scalloped scissors, and glitter that they were using to make name tags for the upcoming reunion.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your off time is either on the field at track meets or in the sheets with Gill.”

Instead of denying the truth, or what had been the truth for the better part of a month, Jo poured glitter over the wet glue edging the paper she was working on. It smudged everywhere.

Glitter and glue were not her thing.

“You’d deny me my hookin’ up time?”

Mel rubbed her still flat belly. “No.”

Her denial was unconvincing.

Jo made another attempt at glittering paper. “Why are we doing so many extra of these?” Yes, she was whining, no, she didn’t care.

“It’s not extra.”

“How is that possible?” The count was triple the normal graduating class.

“The kids from Waterville were bused in because of the fire, remember?”

The information rang a bell. “That’s right.” She attempted to flick glitter from her fingers, failed miserably. “Zoe would pick this week to go to New York.”

Mel took another stack of papers and lined them up to cut. “If it makes you feel any better, she’s agreed to help with the food.”

“That’s her thing. She cooks. Glitter isn’t my thing. I’m a cop, I cop.”

Mel frowned. “You’re a friend, you friend.”

Jo scowled. “You’re pushing the friend card.”

Mel blew her a kiss from across the table and nudged the glitter closer to Jo’s side.

She pushed it back. “How about I write the names on these?” Jo removed the list of names of the graduating class that would be attending the reunion.

“I’ve seen your penmanship. You should have been a doctor and not the sheriff.”

No matter how Jo spun that statement, there wasn’t a compliment to be found. She eyed the names on the list and only recognized a third of them. There had been a lot of traffic in and out of River Bend the year her father died.

“Are you going to supervise the prom?” Mel asked.

Jo cringed. “No one wants me hanging out at prom.”

“You were the shit at our prom.”

“Yeah, well, now I’m just the shit. I’m getting used to it.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“Yeah, Mel. I do. I can’t look the other way when a responsible kid is doing something he shouldn’t do. Even if I don’t think it’s going to screw him up. Even if that kid is doing exactly what I did at their age.”

“Like drinking.”

“Like all of it.” Jo lifted her hand, made an invisible line in the air. “Everyone needs to be right here. Congenial, friendly . . . keep the conversation going, give everyone the opportunity to voice their thoughts, opinions. But the minute I give someone an inch . . . like Cherie and the freakin’ kennel she’s been running, look what happens.”