Battles tucked his notepad away. “I’m sorry to have to confiscate your knife and scabbard, but I’m sure you’ve watched enough TV and movies to know we have to keep all evidence until the investigation is concluded.”

  “I understand.” She had a backup. No need to tell him that part. For now, she was just thankful not to have aroused his suspicions further.

  “I’ll be in touch if we have more questions.” He straightened from the wall. “You sure you don’t want someone to walk you home?”

  Meg stood, relief sliding through her body, immediately followed by exhaustion. It was late and she was tired. “No thanks. You’ve got your hands full here. No need to take someone away from their work to walk me around the block.”

  “You did a good thing, Meg,” he said softly. “I know this may be difficult to live with for a while, and you’ll question yourself over what you had to do, but, bottom line, you did the right thing and there’s no question in my mind that you saved Jennifer’s life. You’re a hero.”

  Oh, good grief. She was not a hero and the last thing she wanted was that label in the report. “I just did what anyone in my shoes would have done.” She shrugged. “It’s not like the guy gave me a lot of choices.”

  “Still,” Battles insisted, “you took a great risk, and now it’s time to take care of you. See a counselor. This was a traumatizing night, and the full impact won’t have set in yet. Taking a life—no matter the circumstances—comes with a truckload of emotional baggage. Don’t ignore the impact to your psyche.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Deputy Porch called for Battles, and before he could say more to Meg, she turned and walked toward the back door. The door closed behind her, and she took a moment to draw in a chestful of air. She closed her eyes and drew in another breath, exhaled it, then she started to walk. She weaved her way through the woods for the short distance before it turned into the narrow alleyway that lined the back of the old shops. Rather than step into the alley, she kept to the woods. The going was rougher, but the likelihood of running into anyone was greatly diminished.

  When she reached the end of the first block of the old shops, she made her way up to the alley and around the corner to the side street. At the end of each of the four blocks that constituted the old town portion of Piney Woods, a short, narrow cross street led into residential areas. There weren’t that many houses actually used as homes. Two had been transformed into bed-and-breakfast operations, one was a doctor’s office, another was a dental clinic and most of the others were now retail shops.

  The few that remained residential holdouts were those of founding families. The annual Christmas tours featured those homes, and members of the families told stories of how their ancestors had come to choose this portion of the mountain as home. All the shops participated. Last Christmas, even Meg had opened her shop to the tour. She’d had her employees do the hosting. Putting herself in the limelight was not something she liked doing.

  Not to mention it was dangerous.

  Not going there.

  A glance down the boulevard and Meg surveyed the crowd that still lingered in the Gas and Go parking lot. Emergency lights still strobed in the darkness. Excitement like this almost never happened in Piney Woods. Folks would be out until it was wrapped up in hopes of learning the full details.

  The idea that trouble had shown up tonight worried Meg just a little.

  Not that she really thought the dead guy who’d attempted to rob the Gas and Go had anything to do with her past. Nah. The idea was pretty ridiculous, in fact. Frankly, he’d been an amateur. His long list of crimes indicated nothing more than a scumbag who preferred not to work for a living. He opted to take what he wanted because he was too damned lazy to earn it.

  She’d met plenty of stone-cold killers in her life, and he had not been one of them.

  Sadly, however, had her reflexes been any rustier, she would be the one dead on that slab in the Hamilton County Morgue. She’d barely outmaneuvered the thuggish punk.

  “You gotta stay in shape, Lewis,” she muttered as she ducked into the alley on her side of the block. It had been just over fifteen months since she’d been in a position to need to protect herself. She imagined even if it had been fifteen years, muscle memory would have had her doing the same thing. There were some things that couldn’t be forgotten. But speed and accuracy were another story. Those required regular training.

  Beyond ready to get home, she walked faster now. She wanted to wash the night’s events off her skin and burn her damned clothes.

  When she at last reached her shop, she entered the code into the gate and stepped into the fenced perimeter of her back yard. The area was a like a kid’s playground, except the equipment was designed for dogs. There were a couple of doggie ramps and slides. Tunnels and balance beams. Shade houses. Her favorites were the water fountains and the toy boxes. And she hadn’t overlooked the cats she served when designing the playground. Two state-of-the-art cat condos had been installed. A little something for everyone.

  At the back door, she entered the code, and the lock released. Once inside, she toed off her sneakers and stripped off her clothes. She frowned, remembered she’d shut off the ringer on her cell. She switched it back on and tucked the device into the waistband of her panties and walked to the laundry area, where she grabbed a couple of garbage bags. For now, hiding the clothes would have to do. She was too tired to burn them tonight. Besides, the last thing she needed was the crowd at the Gas and Go seeing smoke behind her shop. She’d take care of it tomorrow, but she didn’t want the animals picking up the scent of the dead guy. She double-bagged the trash and stuffed it into the front-loading washing machine and closed the door.

  She made it up the stairs before her cell erupted into the short, soft bursts of her chosen ringtone. Too tired to answer anything but a true emergency, she tugged the phone free of her waistband and checked the screen.

  Griff.

  He’d already called seven times. She should have noticed when she turned the ringer back on. Apparently, she’d been too tired, and no doubt he’d heard about the trouble.

  She hit Accept and said, “Hey. What’re you doing up so late?”

  “Checking on you after learning about the robbery at the Gas and Go.”

  Pain arced through her shoulder as she reached for the nightshirt draped on her bed. She grimaced. “I’m okay. Just about to go to bed.”

  She didn’t like blowing him off. Avery “Griff” Griffin was a good friend—one of the first she’d made when she moved here last year. She liked him. Maybe too much. But the less he knew about this, the better.

  Like that was going to happen. Griff and Deputy Ernie Battles had been best friends since they were kids.

  “Well, that’s a shame because I’m at your front door.”

  She closed her eyes and held back a sigh. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ll be right down.”

  Meg considered changing out of her nightshirt, but she needed it to back up her story. Besides, it wasn’t like Griff hadn’t seen her in shorts and tank tops. Not that different really. That thought introduced a long line of images into her head that she could have done without just now. Memories of Griff pulling off his shirt during a long hot afternoon of work at his farm. A T-shirt plastered to his chest after helping to give a dozen dogs baths.

  Not somewhere she needed to linger. She exiled the memories. They both loved animals and worked hard to rescue as many as possible, but that common bond was as far as the thing between them needed to go.

  She hustled down the stairs and padded silently across the cool tile floor. He waited at the front entrance, looking all sleep tousled and far too sexy.

  Don’t think about it.

  Without turning on a light so as not to draw attention, she unlocked the door and opened it. “Wild night,” she said with a glance at the ongoing spectacle at the Gas and Go.

  “Yeah.” He closed and locked the door.

  So, he planned to stay a while. Which meant he’d already heard most of the story about her part in what happened. The downside to living in a small town—everyone knew everyone else. Nothing stayed secret for more than a minute.

  “You want a beer?” She folded her arms over her chest.

  He shook his head. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

  “First.” She held up a finger. “There’s something I need to show you.”

  She turned and headed for the kennels. He followed. No need for her to look back and check, she could feel his closeness. This would buy her some time to calm her jangling nerves. A few minutes of distraction to take the edge off.

  As she entered the doggie hotel—as she liked to call the kennels—Raymond raised his head. He still lay next to the abandoned beagle’s kennel.

  Meg crouched down and gave Raymond a scratch between the ears. “Hey, boy.”

  Griff eased down next to her and reached over to do the same. He and Raymond had a very close relationship. This did not help Meg’s ability to keep the man at a safe distance. The scent of his aftershave—even at this hour—made her want to lean closer and take a long, deep breath.

  He smiled at Raymond, then shifted his attention to the beagle. “Hey there.”

  “She’s about eight or nine,” Meg said. “Her name is Pepper. She has some health issues. Lonnie’s going to run tests. Try to get to the bottom of the situation.”

  “Where’d you find her?”

  His gaze locked on hers, and for a moment, Meg couldn’t speak. She chalked it up to the insane night she’d had. Truth was, he did that to her sometimes. His hair was that blond color that wasn’t really all that fair but was still way too light to call brown. More of a mix of caramel and gold. His eyes were the kind of gold you rarely saw. So pale, so distinct. But the trouble didn’t lay in those gorgeous eyes or in the six feet of perfectly formed masculinity. No. The trouble was his incredible kind and giving nature, especially toward animals. Meg had never met anyone quite like him.

  The fact that she was seriously attracted to him was not such a big surprise, all things considered, but she respected him and just plain old liked him in ways she had never expected to like anyone. The latter was terrifying on some level. She’d never been attracted to anyone in the way she was to this man. It was as much intellectual as it was physical.

  Griff was making her soft, making her want things she could never have.

  Somehow she had to remedy that situation. Problem was, she hadn’t figured out a way to do that—not in the twelve months she had been here.

  Don’t think about it right now.

  She pulled her mind back to the moment and the question he’d asked. “The owner couldn’t take care of her anymore and left her at my door with a note.”

  Griff smiled. “Then it’s someone who knows you and realizes what a good person you are.”

  She looked away from that incredible smile and focused on Pepper. “Except I don’t have the space for allowing the reputation for taking on extra pets to become a common belief. I wish I did.” This was the truth, at least most of it. She would take them all if she could. The problem was if she had to disappear—and that was always a possibility—what would become of them?

  She couldn’t live with the probable answer to that question.

  “I’ve got the space. When she’s on her feet—” he turned to Meg, the pull of his eyes forcing her to look at him “—I’ll take her.”

  She managed a smile, mostly because the effort prevented her from analyzing the details of his face more deeply. The lips...the jawline. Stop. “You already have a lot of animals, Griff.”

  He chuckled. “Doesn’t matter. I have a big farm with a barn big enough for my herd of dogs and cows and horses—as well as plenty more.”

  “Not to mention no shortage of cats and chickens.”

  His smile turned to a grin. “Those too.”

  He hadn’t purchased or been gifted a single animal that lived on his farm. All had been abandoned. Every cow, every horse. Even the chickens. Folks would call him when someone had moved away and just left one or more animals. Griff would go pick them up and bring them home. If they were sick or injured, he would nurse them back to health, and there they would stay. It was the perfect life for the animals and for him. Meg could never tell anyone, but it was her dream life.

  Not ever going to happen, she reminded herself.

  “Why don’t you tell me about what happened over there?”

  This was the question she’d dreaded. She pushed to her feet. “I need a beer.”

  He stood. “That bad, huh?”

  He already knew the answer. Ernie might not be able to give him ever little detail because of the ongoing investigation, but he would have passed along all he could.

  “Yeah. That bad.”

  The worst part about Griff knowing was the idea that it would likely change his opinion of her—and not for the good.

  Griff was the first person in her adult life—besides her parents—whose opinion mattered so very much to her.

  This was bad, and nothing in her vast survival repertoire gave her any suggestion on how to stop the momentum.

  Chapter Three

  Griffin Residence

  Sundown Road

  Sunday, May 5, 8:30 a.m.

  “Listen up,” Griff said to the dogs eagerly waiting at the doors of their kennels. “Dr. Howell is coming this morning for checkups, shots or whatever any of you need. I expect you all to behave.”

  Sad, gloomy eyes peered up at him as if they’d understood every word.

  “Don’t give me that,” he argued. “You behave yourselves and you all get treats.”

  Ears perked up and tails wagged just a little, and he smiled.

  “All right then. You’ll be staying in your kennels until after Dr. Howell has seen you, so just chill for a while.”

  As he walked away, the animals began to settle in for the wait. Though some had been abused and all were castoffs, they trained easily and well. Even Petey, the newest arrival. Griff gave the old bloodhound a nod as he passed his kennel. Petey had settled down, following the lead of the others.

  Griff couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t surrounded by dogs and other animals. Every morning he spent hours feeding and filling water bowls and troughs. But he loved every minute of it. He shook his head at the idea that he’d ever thought for one minute he could be happy in the world of high finance in the big city. But as his grandmother had often told him, if he hadn’t given it a go, he would still be wondering. Now he knew.

  Outside the veterinarian’s truck had arrived. “Morning,” Lonnie announced as he headed Griff’s way.

  Griff opened the gate to the large pen that surrounded the barn. “Morning, Doc. The day been good to you so far?”

  Lonnie chuckled. “As good as it can when you’ve got a calf in distress during delivery. We had a rough go of it for a bit, but luckily, we managed all right. Mama and baby are just fine. Henry’s wife even made me breakfast.”

  Henry Bauer was a neighboring farmer. His family had owned their farm almost as long as Griff’s had.

  “Good to hear.” Griff gestured to the doghouse, which was actually a two-thousand-square-foot building with forty dog kennels and a storeroom. The kennels were all inside, but there were plenty of windows, and each kennel had access to this large fenced area in back of the building. “Your patients are ready. If you need me, let me know.”

  “I always look forward to your crew. And I appreciate you letting me come on a Sunday morning. The better part of the upcoming week is looking a little crowded.”

  Griff understood. Lonnie’s partner had retired due to health issues, and so far he hadn’t found a replacement. The man was swamped. “No problem. I’m just thrilled you could get to us.”

  Lonnie paused before moving on. “By the way, I may know someone who’s interested in the bloodhound.”

  Griff liked nothing better than finding loving families for the animals, but loving was the key word. “You made them aware that she’s old?”

  “I did. He already has a dozen of his own. Like you, he likes giving them a good life—age or condition is irrelevant. Trust me, Griff, he’ll take good care of her when you’re ready to let her go. And she’ll be with others like herself.”

  How could he say no? Bloodhounds were pack dogs. She would be happiest with a group of her own kind. “Sounds good. Have him give me a call at his convenience.”

  “Will do.”

  Lonnie wandered on to the kennels. Griff was caught up for now, so he headed to the house. Meg had promised to come and have a late breakfast with him. She’d managed to persuade him to go home last night without providing details about what happened at the Gas and Go. He hadn’t been thrilled about the idea, but she’d been exhausted, so he’d given in. Part of him had wanted to park outside her place and keep watch all night. But that wouldn’t have helped. She wasn’t in any danger. If he’d ever had any doubts about her taking care of herself, he had none now. He was the one who had an issue.

  He wanted to take their friendship to a different level, but she insisted she wasn’t ready for that sort of relationship just now. Not exactly the answer he wanted to hear, but he couldn’t deny understanding where she was at. He’d been there. Leaving Nashville eight years ago hadn’t been just about being unhappy with his career choice. His whole life had been turned upside down when the woman he’d expected to marry and spend the rest of his life with had announced she had a new vision for the rest of her own. Even more surprising was the reality of how little he’d missed her. Then had come the unexpected relief. Looking back, he realized he had come way too close to making the mistake of his life.

  He walked through the back door and into the old farmhouse kitchen that badly needed an update. He hung his hat on the hook by the door and headed to the coffee maker. He’d had a quick cup at 5:30 a.m. this morning, but he needed another desperately just now. While he waited through the hissing of the machine doing its thing, he considered the cabinets, counters and appliances that were the same as when he’d been a kid. Until recently, he hadn’t thought much of the aged interior. It was all serviceable. Clean. What else did a man need? Except his sister had suggested he might want to update if he ever expected to lure in potential wife material. What woman, she’d insisted, wanted to see herself in this kitchen?