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tentative glance her way. ā€œCan I still drive you to and from BethAnnā€™s?ā€

ā€œIf she hasnā€™t fired me. Weā€™re still working together, as long as youā€™re here. And someoneā€™s still hoping to do away with me.ā€

There was no reason to not continue things as theyā€™d beenā€”the walks to and from BethAnnā€™s, the brainstorming sessions where they told each other what theyā€™d learned and bounced ideas off one another, even the occasional meal together, because it beat eating alone. Nothing had changed, at least on his end. On hers, sheā€™d just given herself a dose of realism. Nurturing impossible dreams was a waste of time. No matter how strong the attraction, no matter how intimately they connected, Shane would never let himself love again.

ā€œI really wish youā€™d pull back and let me handle everything.ā€ He cast her a worried frown. ā€œBranch is determined to get you out of the way. Since this didnā€™t work, I hate to think about what he might try next.ā€

ā€œIā€™m not giving up until Prissyā€™s killers are caught.ā€ She had voiced the argument before. More than once. But she couldnā€™t seem to get the same conviction into her tone. Shane was right. Branch and his buddies werenā€™t likely to give up easily.

The chief was going to be furious when he learned she was out. Heā€™d probably figured with most of her ties to Harmony Grove having been severed eight years ago, sheā€™d be on her own. The friends sheā€™d had then had moved away, and the three weeks sheā€™d been back hadnā€™t been enough time to forge new friendships.

Besides, friends generally didnā€™t bail one another out of jail. Parents, maybe. Never hers. Her mother would leave her to rot there rather than inconvenience herself to help her, and her stepfathers were probably still celebrating having her out of their hair.

Given her circumstances, Branch likely thought sheā€™d be stuck in jail long enough that when she finally saw freedom again, sheā€™d turn tail and run. What he hadnā€™t counted on was Shane.

He slid into one of the parking spaces in front of BethAnnā€™s. ā€œI know you want to be involved, but itā€™s not worth the risk. As much as I enjoy working together, I can do this without you.ā€

ā€œIā€™m being careful. Alanā€™s working on things, too.ā€

ā€œWhat kind of things?ā€

ā€œI donā€™t know. Branch, I assume. Prissyā€™s murder. The suspicious things that have been going on.ā€

ā€œHow do you know that?ā€

ā€œHe told me. When he read me my rights, his back was to Branch. After he finished, he whispered for me to hang loose, that he was working on it.ā€

ā€œCan you give me his number?ā€

ā€œSure.ā€ Alan wouldnā€™t mind. As Shane was fond of saying, two heads were better than one. She pulled up her contacts and gave him the number. As she turned to climb from the vehicle, his voice stopped her.

ā€œI have your purse. BethAnn brought it to me.ā€ He reached behind the seat and lifted it from the floorboard.

ā€œThanks.ā€ She hadnā€™t even thought about it, but when Branch had hauled her away that morning, it had been tucked into the bottom drawer under the counter. She turned to face him fully. ā€œThank you for the ride from Bartow, and thank you for bailing me out. I know I didnā€™t seem very grateful, but I do appreciate it. And I will get you paid back, even if I have to make installments.ā€

ā€œInstallments are fine, but you donā€™t need to pay me back.ā€

ā€œI know, but Iā€”ā€

This time he held up a hand. ā€œI know, you always pay your bills.ā€

She watched him pull away from the curb, then stood for several moments in front of BethAnnā€™s, trying to work up the courage to go in. She wasnā€™t beyond begging. She really needed the money. For her own bills as well as Prissyā€™s. Mark had tried repeatedly to schedule another hearing before Judge Peterson. Each time heā€™d been told there was nothing available on the docket until April.

So she was on her own, handling both her bills and Prissyā€™s. She was going to be hard-pressed to keep her head above water long-term. If BethAnn didnā€™t want her back, her prospects for employment in Harmony Grove were pretty hopeless. No one else was likely to hire her after Branch had marched her across Main Street in handcuffs, lights flashing. The only way he could have made her arrest into a bigger spectacle was if heā€™d used his siren.

If BethAnn fired her, sheā€™d have to leave Harmony Grove. Maybe sheā€™d be able to start over somewhere elseā€”a place where she was just another nameless face, without a past, her mistakes and secrets locked up tight.

Then Branch would have won. Whatever involvement heā€™d had in Prissyā€™s murder would be between him and his Maker.

She squared her shoulders and swung open the door, ready to give it her best shot. Maybe she had half a chance. BethAnn seemed the type to want to see the best in people, to give others a second chance. Whether or not she believed Jess was innocent, sheā€™d at least gone to Shane as Jessica had asked.

When the bell over the door sounded, BethAnn pivoted with a ready smile. It faded instantly, and her eyes widened. ā€œJessica?ā€

ā€œShane bailed me out.ā€ That was all she was going to tell her. She wouldnā€™t do anything to blow his cover or put his life in danger.

ā€œThatā€™sā€¦great. Wow, I didnā€™t expect to see you for a while.ā€

Jessica tried to read her. She seemed hesitant. Was it because sheā€™d been caught off guard? Or did BethAnn no longer want her in the store?

ā€œI was framed. You can ask Shane. Branch has my prints, but he didnā€™t get them at the factory.ā€ Spending the day in jail had given her plenty of time to think. For the charges to stick, Branch wouldā€™ve had to have lifted her prints from somewhere. ā€œThe day the store was broken into, he spent an awful lot of time dusting. Silly me, I thought he was trying to lift the intruderā€™s prints. Instead, he

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