Making It Right (A Most Likely To Novel Book 3)

by Catherine Bybee

  “I’m not. I’m saying . . . it can’t last. Even the way it is, it can’t last.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  Why the hell not? Jo closed her eyes, saw her father . . . smelled the distant memory of her mother’s perfume. Then she pictured Gill. He stood in the suit she saw him in that first day in Virginia. He was standing in a parking lot, one like that of the pizza parlor. From nowhere, shots fired.

  She flinched.

  “I think you’re coming up with excuses.”

  “Cops die, and marriages fail. It just won’t work.”

  When Jo opened her eyes, she took in Zoe’s. In them were tears.

  “When did you know Consuela was the one?”

  The question sat in the air for a good minute before Lee answered.

  “Is she the one?”

  “Christ, Lee . . . how do you know?”

  Gill’s best friend laughed over the phone. “You could do a lot worse.”

  “Don’t I know it.” The images of countless others swam before him. Blondes, brunettes . . . and the redheads. Lord knew they were all wrong. Right for right then but wrong to be left alone in his home. Wrong for being stuck in his head like an endless loop of a love song he couldn’t shake.

  “If it’s any consolation, I like Jo. She’s a little guarded, but that’s to be expected.”

  “How so?”

  “She’s an orphan, Gill.”

  The word orphan never entered his head. Yet when he thought of it, he saw a child standing on a street corner, looking around for someone to take care of them. “I never thought of her that way.”

  “That’s because she’s an expert at hiding it.”

  Gill sat looking at one of the half dozen notes Jo had left throughout his home, her handwriting burned into his memory. Your kitchen is a mess . . . do you ever cook? He’d laughed when he found that in his cupboard. He remembered when he’d gone through her kitchen and found it overboard neat. Remembered how happy he was to see her sloppy in her refrigerator.

  “She doesn’t fake anything.”

  “I didn’t say fake. I said hiding. Faking is on purpose, hiding is defensive. One is protective, the other is deceptive.”

  “How the hell did you become so perceptive?”

  Lee laughed. “Do you know how many people look past you when you’re in a wheelchair? I have more opportunity to study people than anyone else.”

  Gill sighed. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Which one?”

  “When did you know Consuela was the one?”

  Another long pause. “Why are you and Jo working?”

  “Well, the sex—”

  “You can get sex anywhere.”

  Lee was right about that. “I don’t know . . . she’s the right amount of angel, the perfect amount of she-devil. She likes the Harley and carries a badge for reasons bigger than her.”

  “Reminds me of someone I know.”

  “I’m not an angel.”

  “Why do you wear a badge?”

  Gill didn’t have a reason like Jo’s. “It’s what I know.”

  “The case you’re working on . . . what’s the name of the last victim?”

  “Pete Shafer.” His answer was immediate. The image of the kid who would never see his eighteenth birthday swam in his head.

  “Your Pete is almost like Jo’s father. Jo’s might be personal, but they are both just as important. That is what makes Jo attractive to you.”

  “Jo’s a knockout without any of that.”

  “I’m not going to disagree. But looks are temporary. The part of Jo that has you coming to me asking what made me realize my woman was the one is staring you in the face.”

  “I thought opposites were supposed to attract.”

  “Balance, my friend. She reminds you of your rebellious nature, and I’m guessing you do the same for her.”

  Gill couldn’t help but laugh. “My rebellious half wouldn’t have spent the last ten minutes talking about relationships.”

  “Mr. Rebellion rushes forth and does things, Mr. Responsibility spends time burning your friend’s ear about girls.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jo rested her head against the crook of her arms on her desk. The statements of Drew, Tina, and Cherie swam in her vision like the drops a doctor put in your eyes to dilate them. Only these drops didn’t make her see better . . . they blurred and diffused everything.

  She’d questioned the neighbors, the very people who had complained about the dogs barking.

  Every one of those neighbors had offered support to Cherie after Jezebel had been found. Not one of them was capable of taking a pet’s life as a vendetta.

  So who held the grudge?

  Footsteps at her office door had her jumping.

  Glynis was out for lunch and the sound wasn’t expected.

  “Karl?”

  Her deputy stared from the doorway. “When are you going to butt out of my kid’s life?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Drew is talking about joining the service . . . the marines. Sound familiar?”

  She opened her mouth only to have Karl cut her off.

  “Looks like your boyfriend talked him into it. Caroline is beside herself. Cried all night.”

  “Hold up. Gill told all the kids about his time in the service, I wouldn’t say he talked anyone into anything. When Drew said he was considering it, I was just as surprised as you.”

  Karl wasn’t listening. With hands on his service belt and attitude in his scowl, Jo would have been concerned if she didn’t know the man. “That’s not how I heard it. Seems every time I turn around these days, my son is talking about the influence you have on him.”

  “I’m his coach, Karl. And up until recently, I thought I was a friend to his father.” She placed both hands on her desk. “It appears that I’m wrong about the latter.”

  “Drew was going to college. Not joining the military.”

  “What’s wrong with the service?”

  “Boys from small towns always come home in a box. I don’t want that for my kid.”

  Jo shook her head. “You’re exaggerating.”

  “If Drew wants to join, he should finish college and enlist as an officer. Not go in as a grunt.”

  “Have you told him that?”

  “He didn’t listen. Just went on about your boyfriend and how badass he is.”

  Badass had been tossed around a lot.

  She stood and attempted to change the conversation. “What is all this really about, Karl? You’ve been riding my ass like you’re my boss and not the other way around.”

  Karl’s nose flared. Jo was sincerely grateful that looks couldn’t kill.

  “Your hand in my personal life isn’t wanted. Lately, you haven’t been doing your job here either.”

  “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?”

  “My divorce will be final on the twenty-first.”

  “Congratulations?” he asked, a little surprised at her enthusiasm.

  “Hell, yeah. That bastard tried to go after half my retirement. Like he earned it by snoring in my bed for three years.”

  Gill had seen the full cycle of Shauna’s turmoil. First there were tears, then anger . . . now this. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Me, too. We need to celebrate.”

  Gill glanced at the paper again, the date ringing in his head. “I’ll be in River Bend on the twenty-first. Promised Jo I’d be around for the class reunion.”

  “I’ll be celebrating for a month. After?”

  “Of course.”

  Shauna swiped the paper from his desk. “Marriage is overrated.”

  “Is it?”

  She paused, curbed her excitement. “Except for Jo. I mean, Jo’s perfect for you. I knew that long before I sent her to Marly’s.”

  “Sent her?”

  Shauna batted her eyelashes in fake innocence. “You didn’t think that was on accident, do you? If I told Jo I knew a guy that would be perfect for her, she would have never given you a chance . . . meet her on accident . . . and boom!” She patted his head and bounced off like a woman half her age.

  He’d been played . . . by his own partner. Gill smiled, happy with the outcome.

  When he couldn’t get Jo out of his head, he left his desk and found a quiet bench outside the building and dialed her number.

  The fuzzy connection told him she was driving.

  “Hey, good-looking.” />
  “A friendly voice,” Jo said.

  “I thought everyone in River Bend was friendly.”

  “Not hardly. How are you?”

  “Perplexed.”

  “Oh?”

  He told her of Shauna and her divorce. “It’s strange to see someone waving sparklers around after a marriage falls apart.”

  “Shauna was really unhappy. Best they figured it out before they had kids. Mel’s parents split the day she graduated high school, and that was devastating.”

  “My parents are still together,” he told her.

  “Yeah, well . . . mine died, so who knows if they would have worked out.”

  “Were they unhappy?”

  “How would I know? I was finger painting and counting to ten when my mom died.”

  Jo’s voice told him she’d gotten over this loss long before now. “Where are you?”

  “On my way to Waterville. Squad—recall—waited long enough.”

  “You’re going out on me, say that again.”

  Jo yelled into the phone as if that would make the connection better. “My squad car has a recall. I need to get it in.”

  “Got it.”

  “How is your case?”

  “We’re getting close. Found the girl at the pizza parlor. Definitely hooked. Second-level seller.”

  “You’re looking for her connection.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Let me—I can—hello—shit—” The line went dead.

  Gill tried calling her again. Her phone went to voice mail. On his third attempt, he left a message. “Lost you. Call me when you get to Waterville. Miss you.”

  Gill was perched in a car, a high-powered lens of his camera aimed at the Eugene High School senior parking lot. Rachel, the girl from the pizza joint, was easy to spot. Her profile on Instagram had pictures of her at a party, red cup in hand. Like the other girls her age, her long hair went halfway down her back, her eyes heavy with makeup. Chances were the makeup was an attempt to add color to her washed-out skin.

  He snapped a picture of her and the girl she was walking with.

  The girls separated when Rachel’s attention diverted to a low-riding Subaru. The car had been modded to the point where it probably wasn’t street legal.

  Gill zoomed in on the license plate, took a picture.

  She leaned into the car like a hooker, ass in the air.