I've been putting things together and I think I've figured out who you are. Will flexed his fingers in preparation for dropping his truth-bomb on AnonyMs. He only had a couple minutes before he had to leave for a re-interview of an arson witness. He aimed to wrap up all the interviews before Perez left for his honeymoon.

But he always had time for AnonyMs.

You're a novelist who writes mysteries. Someone like Sue Grafton. You're either divorced or you've never been married. You're cynical when it comes to the opposite sex so you've probably had some bad experiences. He flexed his hands again, debating his next statement. Once he broached the idea of meeting, it would be hard to back off. You live within driving distance of Jupiter Point. One more thing. You've been thinking about whether we should meet in person, but you're not sure if it's a good idea.

He checked the time on the computer. He needed to hit the road.

I'm not sure either, but here's the thing. What doesn't move forward dies before it has a chance to live. I don't want this to wither away from lack of oxygen. If we don't meet, that's what might happen. I'm willing to take the risk. Are you?

He hovered his index finger over the "send" button. This was it. Once he let this message out into the ether, there would be no going back.

"Will, help us out here." Tobias's voice came from right behind his back.

Quickly he clicked on the other tab he had open—the front page of the Mercury News-Gazette. Merry's article had just come out. Its headline read, "Knight Flight to the Rescue," along with a shot of Tobias and Ben in their leather flight jackets, arms crossed over their chests, posing in front of the Cessna.

"Oh good, you already have it up. Did you read the article? She did a good job."

"Yeah, I read it. She made you guys sound like fucking heroes."

His favorite line read, "Both Tobias and Ben Knight have distinguished records of military service, but they each echoed the same sentiment. It was time to come home and serve the community in the best way they could."

"She mentioned you, too."

"Yes, I noticed that part. I quote: 'They join their oldest brother, well known to Jupiter Point as Deputy Will Knight, who says he's a silent partner in the new enterprise. In a perhaps unrelated side note, Knight and Day Flight Tours is promising a hundred percent on-time policy."

Tobias's laugh rumbled like a front-loader pouring gravel. He leaned his hip on the edge of Will's desk. He was such a huge dude, Will worried he might tip it over. "Nice dig. I like that girl."

"Yeah? Well, good luck with that."

He winced at how harsh that sounded. Merry could be aggravating, but he respected her. He admired her work ethic and her bright mind. And he was trying like hell to pretend he wasn't wildly attracted to her. That was another reason to meet AnonyMs as soon as possible. He needed a distraction.

"We want to send her something as a thank you for the article," Tobias said. "Maybe flowers. Any idea what kind she likes?"

"Tiger lilies," he said promptly.

Tobias lifted one black eyebrow. "You send her flowers a lot?"

With a start, Will realized he was thinking of AnonyMs. He had no idea what kind of flowers Merry liked. "Nah, that was just a bullshit answer off the top of my head. For Merry, I don't know. Something with thorns? Something that makes you break out in a rash?"

Tobias snorted. "Get your head out of your ass, bro. I like her. If I thought there was a chance she'd say yes, I'd ask her out."

The idea got under Will's skin in a major way. Tobias and Merry—nah, he couldn't see that working out at all. Tobias liked biker chicks and tattoo models and strippers. And Merry liked…anyone but Will, probably.

"I wouldn't bother," he said, trying not to let his discomfort show. "Merry keeps her personal life very private. I've never heard of her going out with anyone. She's very focused on her career."

Tobias's dark eyes, a blue so deep it looked black, scanned him closely. "Any reason I shouldn't try?" He tucked his thumbs in his pockets with the swagger of a man who never left a bar without someone's phone number.

Will gritted his teeth. He didn't have a legitimate reason to tell Tobias to stay away from Merry. But he couldn't keep his mouth shut either. "This is a small town, dude. People respect Merry. She has a lot of friends here. A lot of them are married or engaged to firefighters. In other words, watch yourself."

"You know, all you have to say is that you want her for yourself. You don't have to make up a bunch of reasons."

"Excuse me?"

"Like I'm afraid of some firefighters. Come on." Tobias smirked at him. I've kicked ass on five continents, said that cocky grin. "Man up. Admit you're interested."

"You have her number. Go ahead, call her. Just don't blame me if she laughs in your face. Now get out of here. I have to finish up some work."

God, would he ever leave? Will burned with impatience to get back to his unfinished message to AnonyMs. Tobias pushed himself away from the desk.

"We'll go with the tiger lilies," he said over his shoulder as he left.

Will barely heard him. As soon as Tobias was out of the room, he clicked over to the Flirt tab and reread his message. Oh man. He was really putting it out there.

If she said no, things would be different. If she said yes, things would be different.

Fuck it. He hit the red "send" icon and watched his message evaporate from the screen.

* * *

Will struck gold with the re-interview. One of the witnesses was a teenager who'd been camping with his family. During the first interview, he hadn't said much. But this time, Will interviewed him where he worked, at one of the loading docks on the waterfront. Away from his family, the kid talked much more. He remembered jogging past a man wearing a t-shirt from a private local gym called Heavenly Hardbodies. Finally, a break.

Afterwards, driving through the waterfront, Will spotted the borderline offensive sign for the Rootin' Rooster. The one time he'd come out here to investigate a drunk and disorderly call, he'd noticed that the burgers didn't look half bad. And he was hungry.

It was a forty-five-minute drive back home—might as well get some food in his stomach first. He swung into the gravel lot, which was filled with pickup trucks, Harleys and an RV. Good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform. Maybe no one here would recognize him or give him any trouble. He fished a cowboy hat from his backseat. Maybe it would disguise him enough to avoid any recognition from anyone he might have arrested at some point.

Inside the Rootin' Rooster, Toby Keith was blasting so loudly you would almost think the bar was a happening place—until you noticed the half-dead demeanor of the clientele. Mostly men slouched at the tables, fondling their shot glasses and eyeing the waitresses.

The last time Will had been here, he hadn't paid attention to the waitstaff. He definitely hadn't noticed their uniforms. Every server—they were all attractive women—wore a strange kind of outfit with feathers sprouting from the back of their waistband.

Good Lord. The burgers better be good. He felt dirty just walking into the place.

He grabbed a chair at an empty table and sank into it. He rested his arm on the table, wincing at the sensation of old beer sticking to the fabric of his shirt. Screw this—what were the chances the hamburgers were any good when they couldn't even clean off the tables? It offended his love of cleanliness and order.

He was trying to peel his sleeve off the table so he could leave when someone stuck a menu in front of him.

"That's okay, I changed my mind," he muttered as he finally freed his shirt.

"Really? Is something in here not as advertised?"

That voice sounded familiar. He finally pried his shirt away from the sticky mess on the table and looked up at the waitress.

Sparkling, mocking brown eyes, smooth amber skin, full lips curved into a merry smile, full breasts cupped in the ridiculous chicken costume all the waitresses wore.

Holy rootin' rooster. "Merry?"

* * *

Oh, for God's sake. Will Knight? Seriously? The only non-heinous man to walk into this place in the last two hours, the man hiding underneath a cowboy hat, rocking an ass-hugging pair of jeans and a damn fine leather jacket, that man had to be Will Knight?

"Of all the sleazy bars in all of Jupiter Point, you had to walk into mine," Merry said dryly. "But it looks like you're walking right out again, so don't let me stop you."

"I changed my mind. I'll have a Roosterburger and fries."

She scrunched up her face. "Try again."

He picked up the menu and squinted at it. He'd taken off the cowboy hat but stashed it on his lap. He probably didn't want it touching the disgusting table. She'd tried to wipe it off but really, the job required some degreaser and a chisel. "Roosterburger and coleslaw?"

"Better. The oil in the fryolator hasn't been changed in a decade, apparently. There's always a chance of e coli from the salad though. Consider yourself warned." She started to leave but he snagged her wrist.

"Hang on a rootin'-tootin' second. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, that's funny. Rootin'-tootin'. Very quick with the mockery there, aren't you? I'm working and I just took an order. Wouldn't want to keep our high-class customers waiting." She made a face at him and tried to leave, but still he kept ahold of her wrist.

"You have a job. A pretty demanding one, last I checked. Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"Is there some kind of legal problem with me working two jobs? Because otherwise, I'm really not seeing how this is any of your business."

He was watching her closely, those deep gray eyes penetrating right to her soul. Something fluttered in her lower belly, the kind of sensation that always meant trouble. Sexual excitement. Lust. AKA catastrophe.

"This isn't the kind of place I'd ever picture you working. For sure, I never thought I'd see you wearing something like that." His gaze skimmed briefly across her rooster uniform. All of a sudden, she was much more aware of the way the rooster bustier left the upper curves of her breasts bare. "If you need extra money, we can always use part-time help at the department. I could put a good word in for you."

Pride stiffened her spine. "I don't need your charity," she snapped. "I love this job. The tips are fantastic and I get to meet so many fascinating people. I'd work here for free, just for kicks."

His eyes narrowed, making the gray of his irises stand out in the low illumination. "I don't believe a single word you're saying. I know you, Merry. You're the last person who wants to prance around in a corset and tail feathers. This is for a story, isn't it?"

She quickly reviewed her options. Should she tell Will that she was chasing a story here? She still had one training shift to go before she was off probation. If the manager—or the big boss—knew she was chatting up a cop, she'd be out on her ass. Her best chance to follow up on this lead would evaporate.

If she told Will her reason for being there, would he leave quietly and let her do her thing? Or would he make a fuss and drag her out of the place? Knowing the bossy, control-freak, straitlaced Will the way she did, she figured on an eighty percent chance of the latter.

She couldn't take that risk.

Lifting her chin, she cocked her hip and planted a hand on her red-satin-covered hipbone. "That just shows you don't know me as well as you think. I love to prance. Especially in tail feathers." She spun on her heel and hip-swayed her way across the floor as if it were a catwalk. Every eyeball in the place followed her. She knew it, she felt it, and she didn't care. The only thing she wanted to do was wipe that look off Will's judgmental face.

* * *

Will wanted to tear his gaze away from Merry's perky rear, but that would have required a complete brain transplant. God, was any woman ever more infuriating? She seemed to go out of her way to irritate him and get under his skin. He was trying to look out for her, for Chrissake.

No matter what she said, he'd bet his truck that she was here on a story. But what kind of story could the Rootin' Rooster possibly have to offer?

The place was a haven for lowlifes. They drank, they brawled, they left big tips, and sometimes they crossed the line. Assault and battery cases weren't uncommon. The owner was a complete sleazeball; some said he was mobbed up but no one had ever proved it. Will often heard rumors of drug deals taking place here…

And then it clicked. Goddamn it. Merry was here following up on the story she'd promised to put on pause. The link between the campfire arson and the flow of opioids into the area. She must think the Rootin' Rooster had something to do with it.

Nothing else made sense. If she wanted to do a story on the life of a cocktail waitress, she could find a place closer to home. To take a temporary job in the worst part of town, the story had to be worth her while. Only something big would fit that bill.

Stewing, he watched as she darted around the room, taking orders and delivering drinks. In typical Merry fashion, she moved fast and smart, so efficient, so on point. She had a good manner with the customers, too. Just friendly enough to earn her tips, but not so much as to encourage conversation.

Who was Merry Warren, anyway? He knew so little about her, he realized. All he knew was the outer layer—the quick-witted reporter who always had a comeback and who wrote clean, precise articles that actually got the facts right. The woman who never dated, as far as he knew, but had tons of friends. The woman who, after she'd woken up on his couch, had ghosted before they could discuss what had happened.

What else? Merry had no patience for bullshit. He'd seen her roll her eyes during press conferences when someone made a statement that didn't add up. Her car was a godawful mess. She liked to laugh. She worked hard. And damn, she really knew how to move in tights, a bustier and tail feathers.

Everyone else was noticing exactly the same thing. Goddamn, it wasn't safe for her here. What was she going to do, work past midnight, then drive back to town in her crappy, messy Corolla? What about all the drunken deadbeats who might follow her to her car?

He dug the heel of his hand into his forehead. A headache was developing, he was exhausted from traveling, and all he wanted to do was get home. But no way was he going to leave Merry here on her own. He'd have to stick around until closing.

When she sashayed over to deliver his Roosterburger, he told her as much. As predicted, she didn't take it well.

"You're insane. Do you know how many cocktail waitresses work here? Are you going to babysit every one of them?"

"Only if they have a knack for getting into trouble." Serenely, he ignored her protests and poured ketchup on his burger.

"I'm just doing my job."

He glanced up at her. She held the tray under her arm, the opposite hand planted on her hip. Her golden-brown eyes snapped with outrage.

"That's just it. Which job are you really doing?"

The flash of self-consciousness told him he'd hit the bull's-eye. She skimmed a glance across the nearby tables, probably making sure no one could hear them.

She lowered her voice. "Again, it's really none of your business. Isn't there some kind of rule about interfering in an investigation? You're always accusing me of that."

He burst out laughing. "Dream on, Lois Lane. There's no law against me interfering in your investigation, especially since you promised you'd let it rest."

"I said I wouldn't print anything. That doesn't mean I can't do my research."

"So you are researching. Damn it, Merry. That's a bad idea." He leaned closer and gripped a hand around her forearm. "Drug dealers are dangerous. You aren't trained to handle this kind of situation. Why don't you let the police take over?"

"I'm not getting in anyone's way." She jerked her arm away. "I'm just waiting tables. Jesus. Now eat your burger and go along home. We don't like customers hogging the tables."

"I already told you. I'm not leaving. If you make a fuss, I'll let the manager know he hired himself a fake waitress."

Her face tightened with anger. "You wouldn't."

"Try me. Face it, Merry, you're a magnet for trouble. You nearly got kidnapped off a hiking trail. Then you got shot with a tranquilizer dart. Now you're wearing that," he waved a hand at her outfit, “around fifty men who are quickly losing all their inhibitions. I'm not leaving here without you."

She stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head as if resigning herself to putting up with a watchdog. "Fine. If you're going to be so stubborn, the least I could do is bring you some sustenance. You like fries?"

"Very funny."

She screwed up her face at him. "Should have figured you wouldn't forget that comment. Let me ask you something, Deputy Annoying. Are you single?"

He stabbed a fork into his coleslaw. "Why do you ask that? I'm not trying to hit on you. I'm trying to keep you safe."

"The reason I ask is because you really ought to think about lightening up. I'm a grown woman. Did you ever think maybe you're scaring away all the good ones with your bossy attitude?"

"Is that an honest question?" He laid his fork down and held her gaze. She nodded, though his sudden intensity made her draw back a bit. "Honest answer, then. No, I've never considered the possibility that my bossiness scares women away. For most it's a turn-on, as a matter of fact. I've never heard a complaint from anyone except you, out of all the women in Jupiter Point. So I guess that means we won't be going to bed anytime soon."

Her pupils widened and he caught the subtle sound of her breath quickening.

Jesus. It was a damn good thing he was off duty. He'd never talk to her like this if he was on the job. He usually kept himself under better control.

"Some men are sensitive to a woman's feelings," Merry was saying. "They ask, instead of issuing orders. Maybe you should consider giving it a try sometime."

He snorted. "Let me guess, you have some fantasy about a New Age guy who plays the flute and rubs your feet and listens to all your problems."

She gaped at him.

Ha. He'd hit the nail on the head. "Maybe that's why you're still single. Those guys only exist in, I don't know, ads for a juice cleanse or something."

Her nostrils flared. She looked like she was about to bonk him on the head with her tray. Maybe he'd gone too far.

He softened his tone. "I'm just trying to keep you from getting hurt. It's part of the whole 'protect and serve' mentality. Are we on the same page here?"

"Put it this way," she said in a voice that shook ever so slightly. "I accept the fact that I'm not getting rid of you tonight. Likewise, I accept the fact that you are the last man in Jupiter Point that I will ever go to bed with. So I guess we are on the same page."

"Good." Emphatically, he lifted his burger and ripped a hunk of meat off it. Cold. Damn it.

As he savagely chewed his burger, he knew one thing for sure. If Merry had disliked him before, multiply that by a thousand now. Maybe a lawman and a reporter were doomed to be at odds forever.

Thank God for AnonyMs. At least with her, he could have a civil, adult conversation. Something that was clearly impossible with Merry Warren.