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Jon had one of his officers come to collect Mason and Ginger, after he arranged for some Door County sheriffs to meet the island ferry on the peninsula side and escort the couple to their new home at the county jail in Sturgeon Bay.

After I told Jon about the shoe I’d found under the seat in Ginger’s police car, he called and instructed his other officer to get the state’s crime unit to come and assist with the evidence collection both at the Devereaux house and at the burned boat that Roger had used.

It was a little nerve-racking to learn that Roger was still on the loose, but Jon assured me they’d find him.

Then he drove me back to his place, where I was able to get back into my cleaned and dried clothes.

“Thanks again for your help earlier,”

he said when I emerged from the bathroom.

“You may have saved my life.”

“My pleasure.”

“I am curious about one thing, though.

How did you happen to have one of my knives in your possession?”

I hesitated, not wanting to admit the truth, but unable to come up with a plausible lie in such short order.

“I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was trying to jimmy the lock on that room over there,”

I said, pointing toward the third bedroom.

“It seems odd to have a locked door inside your home if you live alone.”

“All you had to do was ask,” he said.

He walked over, removed a key ring from his pocket, and unlocked the door.

“It’s my home office.

I keep a lot of confidential files in there, plus case notes and other stuff that I wouldn’t want other people’s eyes on.”

After giving the room a quick once-over—it looked like any other home office space—I gave him a questioning look.

“But you live alone, don’t you? How many people are in your house who might wander into your office?”

“I did leave you here alone,”

he pointed out.

He had me there.

“But locking it is just a habit.”

He raked his teeth over his lower lip.

“There’s something you should probably know about me.”

I braced myself for something I wouldn’t want to hear.

Was he a player? Did he have a parade of girlfriends traipsing through the place on a regular basis? Or worse, one special girlfriend who spent a lot of time there? I hadn’t seen evidence of a regular female visitor, but then I hadn’t looked for it either.

I’d been too busy trying to break into his office.

“I was married,” he said.

Okay.

I hadn’t seen that one coming.

“You’re divorced?”

I asked, trying to make it sound casual but knowing I failed.

He shook his head, and for a brief second, my heart sank.

Then he added, “I’m a widower.”

Oh, geez.

“My wife and three-year-old son were killed in an accident in Colorado three years ago,”

he said, making me feel like a reprehensible heel.

“My son was riding his tricycle at a park and a garbage truck driver lost control, went up over the curb, through the grass, and hit him.

My wife saw the truck coming and tried to save our son, but they both ended up dead.”

“Oh, my God!”

I said, clapping an open hand to my chest, where I felt a sudden physical ache.

“How awful.”

“Yeah, and to top it off, the truck driver was drunk.

Turned out, he had a history of driving drunk on the job and had been reprimanded several times but still allowed to drive.”

“Good God, Jon.

I’m so sorry.”

I reached over and put a hand on his arm.

My eyes burned with unshed tears.

“Anyway, I got into the habit of locking my home office because of them .

.

.

well, mostly because of Bjorn.

I was a homicide detective in Colorado.

Not only did I keep files in there with pictures that I wouldn’t want either of them to see, it was also where I kept my gun.”

“I am so, so sorry,”

I said again, feeling like the worst human being ever.

Well, except for Devereaux and his stupid nephew.

“It’s okay,”

Jon said with a sad attempt at a smile.

“No, it’s not! It is not okay,”

I insisted.

“I’m a complete and utter ass.

I’ve been the victim of nosy people myself and should’ve known better.

I should have respected your privacy.

I don’t know what got into me.”

He smiled.

“Apology accepted.”

“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have made such an ass out of myself.

You should have told me, though I don’t imagine you want to talk about it much.”

I paused, biting my lower lip. “Do you?”

A droll smile flitted across his face.

“I don’t mind so much anymore.

Took me a while to get there, though.

And it’s not the sort of thing one brings up early in a relationship, particularly a business one.”

Ouch.

That was a slap in the face.

Was that all I was to him? A business relationship?

“The job has helped me a lot,”

he went on.

“It keeps me busy.”

“I imagine the change of scenery has helped, too,” I said.

He nodded.

“It was fortuitous that I got this job, I think.

I didn’t need it because I received a hefty settlement from the garbage company, though I’d give it all back in a heartbeat if I could have Bjorn and Natalie back again.

I considered selling my house and just traveling, but then I saw the posting for the chief’s job here and thought it sounded perfect: small, kind of isolated, not a lot of people to have to deal with.

To be honest, I was kind of surprised I got it.

I wasn’t all that qualified, and I heard there were quite a few applicants.”

“It was meant to be,”

I said, understanding now how he’d managed to afford this house and pay for my services out of his own pocket.

My concerns about him had been completely unfounded, and I felt ashamed for some of the doubts and assumptions I’d entertained about him.

He pulled the door to his home office closed and locked it.

“We should get going,”

he said, glancing at his watch.

“The next ferry leaves in fifteen minutes and poor Newt is probably beside himself.

If it’s okay with you, I’ve arranged for someone I know and trust to meet you at the ferry landing on the other side and drive you to your store.

I’d do it myself, but I have a ton of things to attend to here, as you might well imagine.”

“If you let me call Rita, I can have her come and pick me up.

Devon can handle the store for half an hour by himself.”

“I don’t know,”

Jon said with an exaggerated grimace as he handed me his phone.

“Look what happened the last time you left Devon in charge by himself.”

He had a point, but I made the call anyway.

Not surprisingly, Rita was full of questions, which I told her would have to wait because if we were going to get to the ferry in time, we had to leave now.

Jon used the lights on his police car after making me promise not to tell anyone about this abuse of his authority, and we arrived with five minutes to spare.

After paying for my ticket, Jon said, “I’ll be in touch.”

Thinking I was dismissed, I turned to walk to the ferry, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“Thanks again for saving my life, Morgan.”

He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the lips before turning around and heading back to his car.

I replayed that moment in my head a thousand times during the half-hour ferry ride to Northport.

By the time I reached the other side, I was convinced that our relationship wasn’t just business after all, and the thought made me smile even as I reminded myself that neither of us was ready for anything new.

Rita was a little crazy when she met me.

She peppered me with questions all the way back to the store, some of which I answered and some of which I skirted around.

Then she gave me a sly look and said, “You’re obfuscating.

You need to be more loquacious.”

“A twofer,”

I said, duly impressed.

I was too tired to think of a comeback.

“You’re the winner today, hands down.”

When I walked into the store, Newt was a lot crazy, whimpering, whining, and sniffing me all over, jumping up to lick my face, even grabbing the leg of my pants in his teeth at one point and dragging me toward the door to my apartment.

That night he slept in my bed with me, something he almost never did.

He’s always preferred the floor.

Whether for its cooler temperatures or because of some alpha-dog instinct he has, I don’t know.

Whatever his reason for breaking protocol that night, I was grateful, and I spooned him all night long.