Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)

“Excuse me?” That was one hell of an accusation.

“You pick and choose which laws you’re going to enforce, make criminals run laps instead of doing time.”

“None of that has changed since my father was here.”

“I didn’t much like that when he was alive either.”

It was time for Jo to glare. “Then why don’t you do yourself a favor and put your name on the ballot next year when I’m up for reelection. If you’re unhappy with how I run things, have the good people of River Bend vote you in.”

“I just might do that. Seems I’m not the only one around here concerned about how things are being handled.”

Jo’s heart kicked hard in her chest. She knew there was some grumbling about Gill and his occasional sleepovers. She assumed the gossip stopped there. “Is that right?”

“Yes, it is. Only people can’t come to you with their concerns, can they?”

She’d never closed the door of communication with anyone in town. Then again, she’d never had to.

Jo stewed in her own thoughts before lifting her hand to him, palm up.

“What?”

“The keys to your squad car.”

He paused. “What for?”

Oh, how she would love to be taking the car away from him for good. But he’d just put her in check on a game of chess. If in fact he was going to run against her during the next election, her taking his position away as deputy now would appear deeply unprofessional. She’d need more than a personal gripe to remove his badge.

Like maybe finding out he was responsible for Cherie’s dog.

Jo hated that she’d thought he was capable, hated that she didn’t see anyone else remotely close to being the culprit.

“I’m taking it into Waterville for the recall.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m capable of taking my car in.”

“Fine. I’ll deal with mine, then.”

His sinister smile didn’t go unnoticed.

“I have Fitzpatrick coming in to cover for me.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

She looked him straight in the eye. “I wouldn’t want the people of River Bend thinking I’m putting too much on my deputy, now would I?”

“We wouldn’t want that.”



Jo couldn’t remember being this angry in her work. In all her years as sheriff, the early ones had given her the most trials. Now it seemed she was having to prove herself again.

Was Karl trying to get under her skin or were there legitimate complaints outside of the personal nature of her relationship status?

Glynis returned from her lunch, giving Jo an opportunity to stretch her legs. She should probably find some lunch for herself, but the thought of eating anything made the anger in her belly churn.

Jo stood in front of Miller’s Auto Repair in hopes of finding Luke’s father. When she breached the metal doors of the garage and heard country music instead of blaring rock and roll, she knew she was in luck. Another scan around the place told her Luke wasn’t there.

She walked to the short hall that smelled of tires and oil and found Mr. Miller reading the Waterville paper while drinking coffee. A pink box of donuts sat in its usual location by the door.

Jo knocked twice on the open door. “Anyone home?”

“Jo!” Mr. Miller removed his reading glasses from his nose and stood.

“How are you?”

“Fine, fine . . . what brings you in? That Jeep of yours acting up?”

She refused with a shake of her head. “Something a little more personal.”

Mr. Miller’s ready smile wavered. “Come in. Sit down. Can I get you some coffee?”

She glanced at the pot and the black liquid in the carafe. Shop coffee was about as good as that at the station. “I’m good,” she told him, sitting.

“Any luck finding more on Cherie’s dog?”

“I wish I had something to report.”

“Disturbing. Has people locking their pets in at night.”

“And locking their doors.”

“That’s probably for the best anyway.”

Jo sighed. “I guess.”

“So what can I do for you, Jo? You look a little stressed.”

No use pretending she wasn’t. “I am.”

Mr. Miller frowned and Jo continued.

“I have been informed by my deputy that there have been complaints about me.”

“Complaints?”

“Apparently. He didn’t elaborate, but he did make it sound like more than one. He went on to suggest he might run for my job next year.”

Mr. Miller sat back, the reclining desk chair groaning under his weight. “Karl doesn’t have what it takes to be River Bend’s sheriff. He didn’t cut it after your father passed and couldn’t do it now.”

As much as Jo liked to hear this, she couldn’t let one man . . . a man who was the father of one of her best friends, assure her he was right.

“He’s a good cop.”

“He’s an okay cop. His diplomacy needs CPR, and his attitude is in constant need of adjustment.”

“He still does his job.”

Mr. Miller pinned her with a stare. “Do you think he can do yours?”

“No.”

“Glad we have that figured out. Now what can I do?”

“Keep an ear out. I’d ask Luke, but I doubt anyone would talk trash to him. Or to Mel or Zoe. I don’t need names, just want to know if there is something I could improve.”

“Of course, Jo. Now, how is this man in your life? He treating you well?”

The question hit her in the chest. “He is.”

Mr. Miller smiled again. “I’d like to meet the man. You bring him around for Mrs. Miller’s pie next time he’s in town.”

“I’ll do that.”

The weight of the day shifted on her walk back. Stan’s squad car was parked in the street. He was early, which was just as well. She’d like to get to Waterville and back, if at all possible, before dark.

She found him leaning against Glynis’s desk, telling a joke.

Jo walked in right at the punch line.

They were both laughing.

“I missed a good one.”

“I can repeat it,” Stan said.

“Later. I need to head out. Just came to get the keys.”

“Glynis said you’re taking your squad car in for service.”

“Brake recall.”

“Good thing. Nothing like your brakes having issues.”

“I’m sure they’re fine. I don’t need mechanical problems on top of everything else.”

Stan followed her into her office while she grabbed her keys. “Any progress on the dog ordeal?”

“Nothing. It’s been quiet since.”

“Maybe it’s an isolated thing.”

“Is that your gut talking?”

“My gut says whoever did this has done something like it before and will again.”

Gill had said as much, too.

“No more dead animals, please!”

“Or worse.”

Jo swallowed hard. She’d thought about that, too. Sociopaths tortured animals and often moved on to bigger challenges. She’d request help from Gill’s people if more turned up.

Stan followed her out the back door to the small parking lot. “Drive carefully. I’ll handle everything here.”

“I appreciate it.”





Chapter Twenty-Six




Shauna slapped a piece of paper on Gill’s desk and did a little happy dance.

“What’s this?”