“Sheriff.” Had her grandmother called him about her again?
“I just wanted to let you know that Buzz Crawford is out on bail.”
She wondered why he hadn’t just called her. Maybe he had. She hadn’t checked her messages since she feared there wouldn’t be one from Luke.
“I heard,” she said. “It’s all anyone in town is talking about.”
“Sorry I didn’t let you know sooner. Luke got him out on bail.”
Good ol’ Luke.
The sheriff seemed to hesitate. “I also wanted to let you know that Buzz filed a formal complaint against you, saying he believes you planted the rifle in his house in an attempt to frame him. I know that isn’t the case,” Grant said quickly. “But he’s pretty worked up. If he should come by your place, just call the department at once.”
“Sure.” And twenty minutes later someone would arrive at her cabin twenty minutes too late?
“Eugene got himself locked up last night,” the sheriff said. “Drunk and disorderly. He hasn’t made bail.”
“At least Luke didn’t get him out,” she said, more to herself than the sheriff.
“Just watch your back.” The sheriff cleared his throat. “I never thanked you for your work in finding the pickup. I’m sorry I had to take you off the case. And I wouldn’t worry too much about Buzz. He’s too smart to threaten you. He’s in enough trouble as it is.”
She wished she could be that sure of what Buzz Crawford would do. Or had done, for that matter.
WHEN LUKE RETURNED to the cabin, he found McCall standing at the edge of the deck looking over the river. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a beer in her hand.
She turned at the sound of his footfalls and he saw her expression. She hadn’t been sure he would return.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
“Enjoying the evening.” He saw she had the gun he’d given her tucked into the waistband of her jeans and wondered if she wasn’t out here because she could hear anyone who approached. Obviously she’d heard that Buzz had been released from jail.
Luke had stopped by the lake house but hadn’t found Buzz at home. He wasn’t sure what he planned to say to his uncle. He wasn’t sure what there was to say. He ended up leaving a note:
Buzz,
We need to talk,
Luke
He knew it sounded cryptic, but he also didn’t want to leave anything that could be potentially incriminating. Telling Buzz about what he’d found in the logbook would have been.
After he’d left Buzz’s place, all he’d wanted to do was return to McCall.
Now, without a word, he stepped to her and took her in his arms. He didn’t want to talk about anything, especially his uncle. He wasn’t going to let anything come between them ever again.
“I checked Buzz’s logbook,” he said, drawing back to look into her eyes. “You were right. The evidence is there. As I was leaving, the sheriff arrived. He took the book.”
She nodded, not seeming surprised. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
She motioned to the cooler at her feet. “You look like you could use a beer.”
He smiled and let go of her long enough to take a beer from the box and unscrew the top. He pulled on the beer, taking a long drink. She was right. This was exactly what he needed, something cold to drink, a nice view and the woman he loved.
Dark shadows were forming in the river bottom as another short spring day turned to dusk. He could hear a flock of geese honking softly from the shallows. A breeze stirred McCall’s dark hair. He breathed in her scent as he snuggled against her back and slipped a hand inside her shirt to cup her bare breast.
Desire sparked along his nerve endings, firing that old familiar need in him. The passion had been there the first time they’d touched and nothing had dampened it, not even the years spent apart.
She turned to kiss him, tasting of cold beer. He dragged her to him, encircling her with his arms, deepening the kiss. Her body molded to his, and he could feel the frantic beat of her heart.
“Unless you want me to make love to you right here on this deck, I think we’d better go inside,” he whispered as he drew back from the kiss.
She smiled up at him and whispered back, “What is wrong with out here on the deck?”
IT WASN’T UNTIL LATER, snuggled together under the blanket, their clothing pillowed beneath their heads and the starry night above, that they heard the sirens.
McCall sat up as she saw the flashing lights and saw where they were headed—toward the lake. “Luke?”
She’d barely gotten the word out before he was up and pulling on his clothing.
“I have a bad feeling,” he said.
She had one as well as she quickly dressed and they took his pickup and headed north, following the lights of the sheriff and ambulance.
As they turned off the road, McCall saw what she’d feared. Both the patrol car and the ambulance had stopped in front of Buzz’s house.
Luke pulled up in the pickup and jumped out. As he ran toward the house, McCall saw a deputy stop him. She turned to look for the sheriff and, spotting him, hurried over.
“What’s happened?” she asked.
“Buzz committed suicide.”
“Suicide?” She couldn’t help sounding astonished. Buzz Crawford was the least likely person she knew to even contemplate suicide. “Are you sure?”
“He left a note,” Grant said. “He’s the one who killed your father, McCall. He confessed. I guess, confronted with all the evidence...”
She nodded, thinking about what Luke had said he’d found in Buzz’s logbook. Still, she felt shaken. Buzz had taken the cowardly way out, and while her heart ached for Luke and his loss, she was angry that she and her mother hadn’t gotten to see this go to trial. This didn’t feel like closure because now they would never know why.
She turned to see Luke, his face
