Making It Right (A Most Likely To Novel Book 3) Page 7

  His laugh was contagious before he reached to kiss her again.

  Jo slid the key into her hotel room door just before four in the morning. Viking Man hadn’t stirred when she rose from his bed, quietly found her clothes, and put them back on before she disappeared from his room. The Uber driver met her at the corner, and she was back at her hotel in ten minutes.

  It was better this way, she told herself, a late night dash instead of any awkward morning-after conversation. Much as she’d have liked to see what the man could do in the daylight hours, she was afraid to sit around to find out.

  She showered before climbing into the hotel bed and smiled as she drifted off to sleep. The man was surprisingly gentle for one so big. She’d ache in the morning but would welcome the discomfort with memories of the night. The one sad truth was the inability to find that kind of a man who fit in her life.

  The town sheriff didn’t date a man like Rocco.

  She put them in cuffs and behind bars. Then again, maybe he wasn’t all that.

  Who was she kidding? His Harley was more important than a home. The transient motel. There wasn’t one knickknack or sign of personality in his room, which meant he didn’t have any. Men without ties were either married and using the motel as a crash pad . . . the thought had Jo staring at the ceiling. Or the lack of ties meant he was on the move. Probably running from someone. A man the size of Mr. Viking wasn’t going to run from trouble; he’d probably avoid the law, however.

  Weighing which she liked better, a felon on the run or a married man cheating . . . man, that was a rock and a hard friggin’ place. Neither suited her.

  Jo punched her pillow, turned it over, and tried to push thoughts of Rocco out of her head.

  Only the last thought as she drifted off to sleep was him whispering sweetness in her ear.

  Chapter Four

  Jo took a train down to Quantico, Virginia, from DC. She wondered, briefly, if she could get back into DC overnight and try and find Rocco again before she disappeared from the East Coast for good. The plan was to finish her training Friday afternoon, nurse her wounded everything she was sure was going to hurt, and fly out of DC Saturday afternoon.

  Viking Man kept her up the first night by action, the second night by memories.

  Why did she do this to herself? Why put herself out there, make her want something she couldn’t have, only to walk away somewhat satisfied but seriously desperate for more? She should probably just invest in a crate full of cats and be done with it.

  Burton told her to dress in Friday casual, no dresses—not that Jo owned any—and bring a change of clothes to work out in. And her badge.

  Her shoulder length honey brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and a tiny dusting of blush enhanced her cheeks. Her lips sported a hint of rose, but that was it when it came to makeup. A lack of cover-up kept her from hiding the fading purple mark on the base of her neck . . . the only leftovers from Viking Man’s touch. Wearing simple blue dress pants, black shoes with the smallest heel she could get away with, and a silk blouse she borrowed from Zoe, Jo walked into the training center and approached the front desk.

  The man behind the desk wore a suit and tie. His stern expression matched just about every movie she’d ever seen when it came to agents and the FBI.

  Jo attempted a smile.

  He wasn’t amused.

  “Agent Burton is expecting me,” she told him. “Sheriff Ward.”

  The man scanned her up and down. “Badge and ID, Sheriff.”

  She reached into her back pocket, found her slim wallet, and presented him her credentials.

  He looked at the ID and her badge twice, and her three times before lifting the phone at the desk and punching in a few numbers. “Sheriff Ward is here,” was all he said.

  Fed Man handed her back her documents and then lifted a camera attached to a computer. He didn’t ask her to smile, he simply snapped a picture and turned back to his computer. “Take this,” he said, sliding her a visitor badge. “Wear it at all times until this one is available.”

  Jo pinched the badge on the silk shirt and hoped it didn’t make a permanent mark. She didn’t want to return Zoe’s shirt with dents in it.

  She waited a breath, expecting the man to give her further instructions.

  He didn’t.

  Thankfully, Agent Burton saved her any confusion as to where to go by walking down a corridor that led to a bank of elevators.

  Ease washed over Jo when Shauna approached in attire very close to Jo’s. The woman seemed to understand the business side of life and mix it with just enough femininity to not look like she was pretending to be a man. In the grand scheme of things, women in law enforcement were accepted. There were still small pockets of doubters out there. Men who believed women couldn’t do the job. Jo had been dealing with that since she joined the academy. Burton told her that wasn’t quite the case with the bureau. Women reached into all positions and were needed in places that men simply couldn’t go. And vice versa. The respect was on all ends here. Something Jo looked forward to experiencing, even for just a week.

  “Agent Burton,” Jo said with a smile.

  “Sheriff . . . good to see you again.” They greeted with a hug.

  Shauna addressed the man behind the desk. “Thanks, Francis.”

  He snarled.

  “I take it you were kind to our guest.”

  Francis offered a noncommittal nod. “He hates everyone,” Burton whispered as she walked away.

  Jo kept to her side and took in everything around her.

  Burton spoke as she stepped into the elevator. “I have a meeting first thing this morning but will join you later on this afternoon for the hand-to-hand stuff. “My partner, Agent Clausen, will show you around until I can meet up with you.”

  “I hope I’m not a burden to her.”

  “Him,” Shauna corrected. “You won’t be. He’s big and scary but a teddy bear once you get to know him.” They stepped off the elevator with her still talking. “Most of the men around here are happy to have women around. There’re a few old-timers who think we shouldn’t be here, but most of them aren’t at these training exercises any longer.”

  Jo chuckled. “Probably because they can’t keep up.”

  “Exactly!”

  They rounded the corner to find several agents talking and drinking coffee in what looked like a lounge.

  “Here’s Agent Tall, Dark, and Scary now.”

  Jo’s skin started to tingle.

  “Gill?” Shauna called out. “Sheriff Ward is here.”

  Shauna’s voice reached the back of the man. As he turned, Jo felt the world tilt.

  Holy shit!

  “Agent Gill Clausen, Sheriff JoAnne Ward.”

  “Jo,” she managed to choke out.

  Rocco, who exchanged a T-shirt for a suit and tie, managed to look her up and down in the space of a breath. His half smile emerged. “Sheriff Ward.” He extended a hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Jo forced her cold palm forward. “A pleasure.”

  His hand squeezed hers . . . twice. “Have we met?”

  The question was meant to unsettle her.

  It did.

  “I don’t believe so.”

  His left eyebrow lifted. “I’m sure we have.”

  She squeezed his hand, dug what nails she had into his palm before letting go.

  “No one would forget meeting you, Gill.” Saved by Shauna.

  Shauna introduced her to the other agents in the room. None of the names registered.

  Get it together, Jo.

  “I’ve gotta go,” Shauna said after checking the time on her watch. “Be nice, Clausen. Remember, you’re scary to those of us who know you.”

  Jo met Agent Gill Clausen’s eyes. “She looks like she can handle me.”

  Shauna narrowed her eyes. “I’ll be back by noon.”

  Jo waved her off and pulled in a deep breath.

  Well, this was going to be a load of sh
its and giggles. Here Jo prided herself on being able to read people. Never once in the time she spent playing tonsil hockey over the weekend did she peg Rocco—Viking Man—Gill, as a Fed.

  The water cooler room filled with other agents and kept Jo and Gill from saying anything they were thinking. What was he thinking? He kept eyeing her like an enigma. Which was probably how she appeared, looking at him.

  “Burton was assigned to your town for that missing girl a couple years ago, right?”

  Jo directed her attention to the man talking. She’d already forgotten his name. “That’s right.”

  “How’s the kid?”

  “Hope is great, thanks for asking.”

  The five men in the room watched her.

  “It’s always nice when it works out,” another agent said.

  “Yes, it is.”

  Gill put his coffee down and caught her attention again. “Well, Sheriff, we only have you for a week. Let me get you where you need to go.”

  Jo forced her eyes to look directly at him. She would not cower . . . not be embarrassed. She hitched her backpack higher on her shoulder. “Lead the way, Agent Clausen.”

  They walked in silence down the same hall she’d just used with Shauna.

  He ate up the path with quick strides, making Jo take another step to his in order to keep up.

  They stepped into the elevator together, the reprieve from a private conversation came in the way of a woman joining them before the doors shut.

  Her fist clenched her backpack and Gill chuckled softly.

  She refused to look.

  The elevator emptied them back into the lobby, where he directed her toward a long, busy corridor.

  She doubled her step and matched him shoulder to shoulder. “Where are we going?”

  “Training complex.”

  He pushed through an exit door, the sun blinding her.

  Gill fished sunglasses out of an inside pocket of his jacket, set them over his eyes, and didn’t miss a beat.

  He stepped to a dark blue sedan, one that screamed FBI, and opened the passenger door.

  Looked like their silence was over.

  Gill managed to put his frame behind the wheel and turn over the engine before he uttered a word. “You left without saying good-bye.”

  No use pretending. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  He backed out of the parking spot. The training center sat on a military base of over five hundred acres. Driving to each location made more sense than walking. “Burton tells me you’re here to better your tactical skills, investigative skills . . . survival skills.”

  Jo found her sunglasses in her backpack, felt relief when she knew Gill couldn’t see her eyes. “That’s right.”

  His head turned toward her briefly. “Lesson number one. Don’t pick up strangers in bars.”

  Oh, the nerve. Anger in the form of heat shot up her spine. “Like you did?”

  “I’m a man.”

  She couldn’t help it. Jo laughed.

  “You think I’m kidding.”

  “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

  He made sure to look at her again, kept looking until she met his stare. “I could have snuffed you out, cut you into tiny pieces, and hidden your body in a place so remote they wouldn’t discover it until it was an anthropological find.”

  “You’ve given this some thought.”

  His jaw tightened, his eyes darted back to the road in front of him before he turned in the direction of what Jo assumed was the training center. “You do that often?” Something in his voice changed.

  Sarcasm was needed. “Every Saturday night. Living in a small town affords me all kinds of opportunities to pick up strangers. The seedy motel is a little hard, however. Is that a government approved hotel, or just your personal choice?”

  He pulled the car to an abrupt stop, threw it in park. “I know what to expect in places like that.”

  “Armed criminals in the next room?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “You left your weapon in the bathroom once we got there, didn’t you?”

  Gill whipped off his sunglasses and stared. “The fact you didn’t know I was carrying one should tell you something.”

  Actually, she assumed he did . . . but didn’t think he wanted to use it on her. He had other needs.

  So did she.

  “I’m not an invalid, Rocco.”

  His eyes narrowed with the use of the name that wasn’t his.

  “And I’m not an idiot. If you wanted to hurt me, I would have sensed it before we left the bar.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  It was her time to look over the brim of her glasses. “Did you hurt me?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  She pushed her glasses higher, reached for the door of the car. “Yes it is.”

  Chapter Five

  There wasn’t much that ruffled Gill. He knew at the time something about Anne wasn’t up-front. But a small town sheriff? No, he didn’t see that coming. When he’d woke just before dawn and she wasn’t there, he was surprisingly disappointed. She’d been demanding . . . a little needy, even. Then there was the fire that she lit with a touch. JoAnne Ward . . . Little Miss River Bend Nowhere, Oregon, gave as much as she took and asked for more. They’d gone at it for hours. Not something he often did. It was like she was saving it up, soaking it all in to last.

  Yeah . . . that crack about hooking up in a small town was laughable. He’d have to ask Burton about what she knew when it came to Sheriff Ward’s love life.

  He watched her ass as she moved through the doors of the training center. There were plenty of law enforcement officers there for the very same training as Jo. They mingled on the sideline while several receptionists took in the newcomers.

  Gill approached the desk by Jo’s side.

  “Agent Clausen? What are you doing here?”

  Gill shook hands with an old friend. “Agent Ault, this is JoAnne Ward. Sheriff of River Bend, Oregon. She’s on the roster this week.”

  Agent Ault looked over his printed sheet, found her name, and checked it off.

  “Welcome to Quantico, Sheriff.”

  “Thank you,” Jo said.

  Ault twisted a waiver in front of her. “You need to sign this.”

  She skimmed the document . . . the one saying if she was hurt or killed she had no right to sue the federal government. The part about her being dead and not being able to sue never managed to be questioned.

  “Have you been with us before?” Ault asked.

  “No. First time.”

  Gill made sure Ault knew to take care of her. “She’s a close friend of Agent Burton,” he told him.

  “Ah, right. Shauna said she was coming in later to help with the hand-to-hand. Had a friend coming.”

  “This is her.”

  “Great. Locker rooms are in there.” He pointed down the hall. We’ll be starting in fifteen.” He looked at her feet. “I hope you brought running shoes.”

  Jo smiled, something Gill had yet to see since she arrived.

  He liked it.

  “Burton suggested it.”

  “You’re all set, then.”

  Jo stepped away and turned toward him. “Well, Agent Clausen, thanks for getting me here.”

  “I can’t let my partner down.”

  Jo put her hand out as if she was shaking it good-bye. “It was a pleasure.”

  He took her one hand in both of his briefly before she pulled away. “No, it was mine.”

  A tiny bit of heat rose in her face before she walked down the hall to the locker rooms.

  As she did, he envisioned the tattoo she had on the small of her back. The simple, geometric design women want when they’re young as a form of rebellion but have no true idea what they want in life.

  Didn’t matter if it was rebellion or not . . . Gill thought it was sexy. He’d wanted to eat breakfast off it the morning after.

  Only she’d left.

&
nbsp; “You and Burton are on tap for instruction this week, right?”

  “We volunteered to help.”

  “See you out there.”

  Dressed in dark blue from head to toe, with FBI Training written on her T-shirt, her hat, and even the belt they’d given her . . . Jo walked out with several other female law enforcement officers with the same purpose.

  They met their male classmates in a large room that housed close to two hundred of them.

  Gill hovered in her head. The idiocy of him suggesting she couldn’t take care of herself burned.

  He didn’t know what he was talking about. And after this week, she’d be even better equipped to ward off any unwanted man.

  She’d wanted Viking Man.

  Arrogant Fed that he was.

  She forced his image from her brain and switched her attention to those around her.

  Reminiscent of her days in the academy, Jo stood shoulder to shoulder with the other officers while the instructors filed out in front of them.

  As they lined up, the room grew silent.

  When Jo saw him, she cussed under her breath. She didn’t see where Gill’s eyes fell from behind his sunglasses, but she felt the weight of them nonetheless.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Agent Ault. Welcome to Quantico. Where we help take your skills you’ve obtained in your local law enforcement agency and help you find your weakness and attack it. We will hone and teach you what you may not know . . . use what you’ve forgotten, and remind you every day that you’re one bullet away from being a statistic. We’re here to help you stay alive, help you keep your civilians breathing, and above all else, know what you are capable of doing and what you are not. We are not on a military base by accident. This week will feel like boot camp. It will challenge you, leave you bruised and exhausted. Welcome the pain. It will make you stronger.”

  The woman standing to Jo’s right shifted and muttered something she couldn’t hear.

  Jo looked back up and felt Gill staring.

  Agent Ault explained how the days would progress before dismissing them to their preassigned groups.

  Jo didn’t bother looking for a group number, she walked right up to Gill, knowing his half smile that bordered on a smirk was meant for her. “What a surprise,” she said without humor.