Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)

“I thought she was with you.”


“She ran back into the hospital, said she was going to ride back with you.”

His dad was silent on the other end.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’ll head back and pick her up.”

“I can do it. I didn’t get far. I wanted a burger.”

“No, no . . . you go on home. I’ll find your mother.” His dad sounded angry.

“You sure?”

“Positive. You’ve had a long day. I’d hate you driving tired.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, Drew?”

“Yeah?”

“Proud of you today. I know I don’t say that enough.”

His praise formed a knot in Drew’s throat. “Thanks, Dad.”

Drew was about to give up on spying on his parents when he saw his mother running from the parking garage. She appeared to be chasing down his dad . . . only it wasn’t his dad. He wore the same uniform, was similar in size . . . but it wasn’t his dad.

She caught the man by his arm, and he pulled away and shoved himself right up against her chest.

Drew reached for the car door to jump out.

He was halfway across the parking lot when he recognized the man in the uniform.

Stopping, Drew took in what he was seeing.

A man he’d known since birth pulled his mother into his arms, kissed her roughly, then stormed into the hospital.

Sensing his stare, his mother twisted her head and met his accusing gaze. Both her hands flew to her face as if she could hide the truth.



Jo’s butt hurt from lying in bed for hours. The sun outside the window was starting to set and she was beginning to think their playing possum was a bust. Well, outside of Karl’s confession, which, if she was honest with herself, was worth the whole ruse.

The adrenaline that had brought her to the hospital was finally waning and mixed with the boredom of waiting. Jo realized she had fallen asleep when noise from outside her room woke her.

“It’s okay. Take a break, get some coffee.”

It sounded like Stan, her temporary deputy and longtime family friend, telling the uniformed officer outside her door to grab some coffee.

Breathe in . . . one, two, three.

Breathe out . . . one, two, three.

“Jo?”

“Jo?” he said a little louder.

She felt a finger poking her shoulder through the covers. “Jo?”

He sighed. “You are one tough broad.”



“What are you doing, Mom?”

She sobbed, her body shaking with every breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Her apology doubled as a confession.

“Deputy Fitzpatrick? Really?”

“It isn’t what you think.”

Drew had a hard time looking at her. “I’m young, not stupid.”

She bit her lips as if trying to stop her tears. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“What about Dad? Are you going to have this conversation with Dad?” How could she do this to them? Why?

The woman who raised him wore her nerves in her shaking hands. “I need to talk to Jo’s boyfriend.”

“Gill?”

“Stan isn’t right. He’s been acting strange.”

“Men act that way when their girlfriends are breaking up with them,” Drew said.

His mother stiffened her shoulders, stared at him.

“I read your texts.”

“You need to respect my privacy.”

“You need to respect our family.”

His mother didn’t get angry often, but he saw irritation in her eyes before she walked past him and into the hospital.



Jo kept her breathing even, kept her eyes closed with only a slit casting shadows behind her lids.

Stan said next to nothing as he moved around the room.

His silence disarmed her.

Stan moved back to her bedside. The tubes of the IV line pulled against the tape on her arm.

His breath became quick, short pants.

Another tug on her arm.

The scent of his breath came close, his lips next to her ear. “JoAnne?”

Slow breaths. Slow breaths!

His chest pressed against her left arm and she felt his fingers grip her shoulder. “Sorry, Jo. It’s better this way. Would have been better if you’d just left River Bend after Daddy died.”

Jo felt a scrape on her arm and she jumped.

Her free hand reached out to grasp Stan’s, and the door to the room burst open.

Stan was in motion, a syringe in his right hand, Jo’s shoulder in his left.

Gill stood in the doorway, Caroline and Drew running toward them.

“Drop it!” Gill pointed his weapon at Stan’s chest.

The deputy didn’t stop, he jerked Jo’s injured arm and shielded his body with hers. She cried out in pain.

The shot was too close. Gill didn’t take it.

Caroline screamed Stan’s name, telling him to stop.

Drew shoved his mother behind him.

“Put the syringe down,” Gill ordered.

That’s when Jo noticed the grip Stan’s hand had on the syringe he’d destined for her. The pain in her shoulder and chest stopped being of any concern.

“Drop it.”

“What are you doing, Stan?” Jo asked.

Stan’s eyes were on Caroline. “See what you made me do? This is your fault.”

“Stanley, please.”

The other agents filled in around them, guns pointing at Stan. If he did manage to bury that needle in her arm, it would be the last thing he did.

“I was the only one you needed. But no. You couldn’t leave that weasel husband. Had to spread for this one’s daddy.” Stan shifted Jo side to side, his arm around her neck, the needle scraping her bare arm.

“Get them out of here,” Gill yelled at no one in particular.

Agents pushed in, dragged Caroline and Drew aside.

“Don’t do this, Stan.” Jo kept her voice even. Calculated her next move.

“You’re like a damn cat that just won’t die.”

“You’re not going to make it out of here.”

“No. Maybe not.” His voice was too calm, too controlled. “Doesn’t matter now.”

Jo caught movement in front of her. There were five weapons pointing at them.

She sought Gill’s eyes.

Without hesitation and ignoring the pain in her arm, she maneuvered her bare leg around Stan’s, grasped the hand he held the needle in with both of hers, and twisted her body toward his as she’d been taught in Virginia. He wasn’t expecting her move, but that didn’t mean he went down easy. Jo focused on the needle as they fell to the floor.

Pain shot through her body, and air left her lungs.

The room exploded when Gill charged. All Jo saw was Gill’s meaty hand grasping Stan’s. If his fingers didn’t break, they were made of titanium.

Stan’s grip on Jo broke loose, and someone pulled her back.

Grunts and the sound of a hospital room being destroyed filled the empty sound outside the walls.

Stan went down kicking.

But he went down.





Chapter Thirty-Four




As Gill led Stan from the hospital floor, Jo allowed the real doctor to check her arm and vital signs before pulling on her clothes and letting her best friends hug the life out of her.

“Damn it, Jo. Don’t you ever, ever do this again.” Zoe shook her finger at her and then hugged her a second time.

“Watch the arm, cupcake.”