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  "He's…uh…young and very dynamic." That was code for aggressive and obnoxious. Will lifted one eyebrow, looking genuinely interested. She found herself continuing. "He says he wants more drama and conflict in our stories. He uses the word 'big' a lot." She waved her arms the way Douglas Wentworth had in the staff meeting. "'Big headlines. Big emotion. Feuds, battles, tears, fears.' That's a direct quote."

  Will chuckled. "Did he get on the wrong plane? This is a small town, not Los Angeles."

  "Hey, small towns have drama too. Just ask Mrs.—"

  "Murphy," Will finished the sentence along with her. They both laughed at the mention of Jupiter Point's biggest rumor-monger. Merry knew for a fact that Will used Mrs. Murphy as a source just as much as she did.

  Then she remembered that she and Will were adversaries, not friends, and turned her laugh into a cough. "Anyway, this story sounds important."

  "Can you stall him? You'll get your big story at the right time. Just give us a little space on this one."

  She eyed him, assessing how serious he was. Could she negotiate? Get more out of him in exchange for backing off this story temporarily? "I don't know, Will. Opioid addiction is a big story all over the country, you know that. Our readers are concerned. I'm not sure I can justify ignoring it completely. Do you have anything else you can give me in its place?"

  She batted her eyes at him innocently. Pointless—he knew exactly what she was up to and he was no doubt immune to her wiles anyway.

  "Such as?"

  "You tell me. You must have something interesting going on out here."

  "We like it boring. That means we're doing our jobs." He rested his big hands on his thighs. They looked so powerful, muscles bulging against the gray fabric of his uniform. She tore her eyes away.

  "Well, my job is to get as many eyeballs as possible to look at the Gazette. I'm open to suggestions. Pin the Tail on the Deputy? Spin the Mugshot?"

  He snorted as a brief smile passed across his face. Will Knight wasn't a big smiler, in her experience. He took his job seriously, though sometimes a dry sense of humor snuck out from behind his stoic manner. "Tell you what. How about a behind-the-scenes exclusive at Knight and Day Flight Tours? It's opening soon. Whole town's talking about it. You can be the only reporter to go inside. We can even take you up in a plane."

  She was plenty familiar with the new flightseeing business, which was set to open in the next few weeks. Every single woman in Jupiter Point was speculating about the two sexy Knight brothers who had recently moved back to town and bought the abandoned airstrip with its ramshackle buildings.

  "You said 'we.' Are you part of the crew?"

  "Investor and moral support. Two of my brothers are the main guys. But they'll do what I ask."

  He spoke in such a tone of quiet authority that she had no doubt of it. "Are you the oldest?"

  With a lift of one eyebrow, he nodded. A moment of awareness zinged between them. They didn't usually talk about anything personal. Best to keep that safe professional distance.

  There had been one time—and only one—that they'd breached that distance. That was when she'd woken up on his couch a few months ago. The whole episode was blurry, thank goodness. It involved a robber, a tranq gun, and an epic hangover. They still hadn't talked about that incident. She didn't want to, because from the little bits and pieces she remembered, she might have gotten a little too personal that night.

  She cleared her throat. "I can probably work with that. An exclusive tour, interviews with both your brothers—is it just the three of you?"

  "No, we have another brother but he's in his first year of college."

  "Hm." With a quick sidelong glance, she estimated his age at a bit over thirty. She looked him over again just to confirm—and to appreciate his rangy, muscled physique. She swallowed a sigh. "Your parents must have known how to keep the love alive."

  His expression shut down as quickly as if he'd drawn a window shade. "So are you interested in the story? I'll set it up if you are."

  She thought about it. She didn't care all that much about Knight and Day Flight Tours—it sounded like a fluff piece to her. But Jupiter Point was big on supporting local businesses, so readers would love it. And if Will Knight was going to be covering for Sheriff Perez, it would be smart to accommodate him.

  "Yes, I'm interested. I'm sure our readers, especially the ladies, will want to know all about the new flightseeing service. Rumor has it your brothers are single. And I never doubt Mrs. Murphy about that sort of thing."

  He opened the door of her Corolla, causing a scrunched-up bag of Doritos to tumble to the ground. He bent to pick it up. Merry had never gone for "men in uniform." She'd always preferred the nerdy type; glasses were like catnip to her. Nevertheless, she watched Will's muscles flex under his regulation tan uniform shirt with reluctant appreciation. Maybe the uniform wasn't designed to show off the officers' innate sexiness, but in his case, it sure did.

  With the piece of trash in hand, he extracted himself from her car. "Are you saving this for some reason or can I toss it?"

  The disapproval in his voice made her bristle. "Don't judge me. I eat on the run a lot. My car is my home away from home."

  She glanced around at the interior, which was a comfortable jumble of old coffee cups, laptop bag, tubes of lip balm (some missing their caps), spare items of clothing that might come in handy, a yoga mat in case she got inspired, phone chargers, water bottles, Clif bars, protein bars, granola bars, chocolate bars, camera case, accordion file folders, extra shoes, and the cosmetics case that held everything she needed for an impromptu interview.

  "If your actual home is anything like your home away from home, I ought to call the fire marshal." Will squinted at the stockpile of snack bars on the backseat. "Do you ever eat anything you can't hold in your hand while you're driving?"

  She lifted her chin. "I'm a multitasker. Eating while driving saves a lot of time."

  He shook his head and stuck out his other hand, the one that didn't have any trash. "Anything else you want to throw away while I'm at it?"

  "Hey, Boy Scout. You don't have to take out my garbage."

  That ever-so-slight smile, more of a tease than an actual smile, touched his mouth again. "Turns out I do. I won't rest easy knowing you might have trash flying around your head if you take a turn too fast."

  She looked at him blankly. He spoke as if he cared. But why should he? "Why is it any of your business?"

  "Public safety. Could be a road hazard."

  "Excuse me?" She wagged a finger at him. "I've never even had an accident. Admit it, you're just a control freak who can't stand a little mess."

  And just like that, his calm control slipped and she caught a glimpse of another Will Knight. One with a lot more passion than he usually revealed. "Good Lord, Merry. Do you have to make everything difficult? I know it's your job during a press conference, but I'm offering to collect your trash from your car. Why do you have a problem with that?"

  The way he said her first name—it gave her chills. He usually called her "Ms. Warren," in a sort of overly formal, almost ironic tone. Calling her "Merry" had a whole different effect on her system. It sent butterflies tumbling through her belly and made her pulse ramp up.

  For a surprised moment, they stared at each other. Slowly, his expression returned to what she was used to: somewhere between calm and mildly irritated.

  "Fine. If it's that important to you, I'll take you up on that very civic-minded offer." She bent over and rummaged around the floorboards for the plastic grocery bag in which she'd stashing her old coffee cups. It was so full that one seam had ripped and old coffee had dripped down the outside of the bag.

  Normally, she'd be embarrassed, but he'd asked for it. With a sweet smile, she handed over the dripping mess. He took it, looking like he now regretted ever bringing it up. "I'll have my brothers give you a call."

  "Great. Thanks."

  He closed the passenger door with his hip, since both of hi
s hands were filled with debris from her car. With one last nod, he turned back toward the sheriff's compound. Because she couldn't help herself, she watched his truly fine ass as he cruised across the lawn with those long strides.

  Will Knight was one attractive law enforcement officer. That didn't change the fact that they were total opposites, though. Now she had one more example. He was a neat freak. And she was too busy to worry about tidiness.

  Although she had to admit, as she drove down the highway back toward Jupiter Point, it was easier to drive when she wasn't kicking old coffee cups away from the accelerator. Not that she'd ever tell Will that.

  2

  Will dumped Merry's trash in the bin inside the reception area. The office assistant, Cindy, gave him a curious side-eye look, but he fended off her curiosity with his famous blank stare. The one that came easily with everyone except Merry.

  Then he went to the men's room to wash his hands, mentally grumbling the entire time. Control freak, my ass. Every time he tried to do something nice for Merry Warren, she pushed him away as if he'd threatened to off her pet gerbil or something. What was wrong with that girl?

  And why did he react to her, every single time? No matter how hard he worked to hold on to his cool, one look from her sparkling brown eyes and he lost his bearings. Was there any other explanation for why he'd offered up an interview with his brothers? Or why he'd collected her damn trash?

  Without even trying, she made him do things he didn't do for anyone else. It had to stop. It was freaking embarrassing. And it could cause all kinds of trouble if he wasn't careful.

  He poked his head into his boss's office. Sheriff Perez was pretty new on the job, having been elected only a year ago. His brothers had urged him to run for the position, but he'd rather eat dirt than have to deal with networking and politicking and schmoozing.

  "That went pretty well," he told the sheriff. "Merry agreed to give you a little time. But knowing her, she'll be back at it before too long. She's persistent."

  Perez looked up from his computer. He was a handsome guy who wanted to run for higher office someday. He lived on coffee and wintergreen Altoids, which he claimed to be addicted to. "Hard to believe the press picked up on this. This ain't exactly New York Times territory out here."

  Will didn't like the condescending tone in Perez's voice. Just because he wanted to move up didn't mean he should look down on Jupiter Point. "Merry Warren's sharp. Good reporter."

  "Well, she'll be your problem soon. I'll be on a beach with my lady, sleeping off the champagne toasts and getting ready for round eighty-nine."

  "Yes, sir." He rapped on the doorjamb and turned to go.

  "How's the kid doing?" Perez asked, almost as an afterthought.

  Will's heart swelled with pride, as it always did whenever he thought about Aiden. "Doing great. Loves his classes, hit it off with his roommate. Couldn't be better."

  "Bueno, bueno. He needs anything, you let me know. My cousin went to Evergreen."

  And that was exactly why Perez was so successful. Good memory for personal details and quick to extend a generous hand.

  "Thanks, that's a nice thought."

  "And how about you? The nest is empty, yeah? Time to take advantage. Spread those wings."

  "Right. I'll do that." Will rapidly backed up before Perez roped him into a setup or a blind date or Lord knew what.

  "My fiancée knows someone she wants you to meet. Hair stylist at her salon. Says she's a doll and perfect for you."

  "Really, Sheriff, I can handle—"

  "Oh, is it set-up-Will-Knight time?" Cindy appeared at his elbow. "I've been waiting for this moment. I have a long list I've been compiling. Do you know how many women come in here who ask if you're single? I kept their names for you in a file."

  "That's incredibly well-organized of you, but I'm not—"

  "I divided the list into witnesses, suspects, victims, and people unrelated to any criminal investigations. I thought it would be good to give you options." Cindy was twenty-two, Vietnamese, and all attitude. As efficient as she was snarky, she wore cat-eye horn-rimmed glasses with rhinestones and funky vintage dresses.

  "I can handle my own personal business, thank you both very much." He fled down the hallway, pursued by Cindy's voice.

  "By the way, Merry Warren is on the list too," she called after him.

  He spun around. "Excuse me?"

  "I put her there myself, in the category of conflict of interest. So you don't forget." She gave him a saucy finger-wag and whisked herself into Perez's office.

  Will swung around the corner to the open-plan area where each deputy had a desk. He nodded to the only other deputy at his desk, Keith Jernigan. Jernigan was the main guy coordinating the opioids investigation, while Will had pulled campground arson duty. They were working the case from two opposite ends, but everyone was starting to suspect a connection.

  The working theory held that fentanyl was being smuggled from China in small shipping containers, then transferred to motorhomes for distribution. In case of problems, the motorhomes were torched to destroy the evidence. It had seemed crazy at first—Jupiter Point didn't have a deep harbor and was used strictly by fishing boats and pleasure crafts. But the fentanyl was so powerful, even a small amount could generate a huge profit. A small-scale operation like this might fly under the radar.

  The idea of synthetic, highly addictive drugs filtering into the Jupiter Point area made Will furious. Jupiter Point was a small town, but it had a lot of beauty and community spirit. He refused to see it destroyed by drugs.

  He settled in at his desk and propped his legs on the surface. The coffee he'd poured for himself earlier was still sitting next to his computer. He stuck his finger in it, not surprised to find it ice cold. He rarely got to drink his coffee hot. Something always interrupted him.

  Before he forgot his promise to Merry, he dialed Tobias's cell phone.

  "Hey bro. Got a sec? I hooked you up with some free publicity," he said when Tobias answered.

  "We don't need any." His brother had a voice as deep as a river running through a canyon. "We could hold a bake sale with all the stuff people keep bringing over. Is that some kind of welcome wagon thing?"

  Will didn't dare tell him it was more of a matchmaking thing than a welcome wagon. "Sure. You have a problem with free pastries?"

  "At this rate, I won't be able to get a plane off the ground," Tobias grumbled.

  Will grinned. God, it was good to have his brothers back. Too bad Aiden was now in college, so they'd all only be together during holidays and the summer. But Will wasn't complaining. It just felt too damn good to have Tobias and Ben at the other end of his phone instead of in various hot zones around the world.

  "Just take down this number and call her. It's Merry Warren, she works at the Mercury News- Gazette and I owe her a favor."

  "Is she going to bring us cupcakes like the others?"

  Will snorted at the very thought. If Merry brought cupcakes, they would probably come from Ralph’s supermarket and be laced with truth-telling serum. "Don't count on that. But you can definitely expect some attitude."

  "I like attitude. Is she hot?"

  "She's hands off. This is a professional thing. Do I need to call this off, asshole?"

  "Touchy. Jesus. Warning received. I'll give her a call. All professional-like. Maybe I'll put on a tie first. Catch you later, big brother."

  Will hung up and swung around to his computer. He pulled up the list of witnesses from the campground fires. He needed to re-interview them based on the new working theory of the case. But before he did that…

  After a quick glance at Jernigan to make sure he wasn't watching, Will clicked on the Flirt icon on his phone. He shouldn't do this at work. If anyone—especially Cindy—caught him, he'd never hear the end of it.

  But he couldn't help it. One message from AnonyMs could make his whole day go better.

  His pulse jumped at the sight of the red notification symbol. The Flirt a
pp slogan was, "If you're looking for love, look somewhere else." The whole point was that it wasn't a dating site. It was designed to connect users with someone of like mind, someone to chat with, to share jokes with, someone who expected nothing emotional, physical, sexual or even social. Perfect for someone like him, who didn't want any entanglements.

  He opened the message. AnonyMs had sent it this morning around six.

  Crazy dream last night! It was like a disaster movie. I was running from a giant tsunami wave and people were running all around me screaming and cars were flying through the air. Then I reached up and grabbed the tire of one of the cars and it turned out YOU were driving it! I knew it was you even though I couldn't see your face, and I don't even know what your face looks like IRL. But I just knew. You shouted at me to hang on and then you drove through the air until we reached a little meadow filled with yellow wildflowers. You hovered over the meadow so I could drop down into the grass. I yelled, "Come for a hike with me!" But the car turned into a spaceship and zoomed away. Isn't that a wild dream? Interpretation, please! I have mine.

  She ended with a wink emoji.

  He read the message again, paying attention to every detail. AnonyMs always had vivid dreams with lots of detail. As a kid, she'd gotten into the habit of writing them down, and said someday she wanted to write a book that wove them all together. In his imagination, she was a shy, dreamy, artistic girl. The type of girl he never met in person because he mostly dealt with criminals or the victims of criminals.

  He thought for a while, then typed out his answer. Easy. Your curiosity about me is like a tidal wave. He threw in an emoji with its tongue sticking out. You're afraid you'll never know who I really am. Either that, or you recently watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Don't know the significance of the yellow wildflowers, since your favorite color is orange. And hiking? Why? You hate to hike.

  He pressed the "send" button. Amazing that he knew those details about her, but he didn't know her name or anything else. All he knew was that she lived somewhere in central California and she was under forty.