I wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled his mouth to mine, kissing him gently. “Shh. You’re doing your job, and it’s a lot more dangerous than me getting tangled up in sheets hanging from a clothesline.”

“I’m trained to handle dangerous situations, Rose. You’re not. Why did you go back there?”

“Joe. That’s like asking me why I walked into my kitchen last May when I found Momma dead. Muffy ran back there, and I went to get her. Why would I think anything bad would happen?”

“I should have been here,” he repeated, his shoulders tense. “I hope to God that deputy sheriff position comes through.”

“Me too.” I kissed him again with longing. I was about to get everything I wanted.

His arm tightened around my waist as his other hand found my cheek. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m not with you?”

I grinned against his lips. “I think I do. Now do you want to hear the rest?”

“Yes, but I’m beginning to think sandwiches would have been a better idea. I like having you in my arms.”

I wiggled free, feeling kind of sorry I’d suggested cooking. “Let me just get the sauce started, and then we can sit down. I still haven’t told you about Thomas.” I went on to tell him about Thomas’s involvement in the whole mess, including what he’d said about Daniel Crocker. “Do you think Daniel Crocker is a threat to me from behind bars?”

Joe took a deep breath. “I haven’t heard anything, but now I’m more worried about you than ever. Daniel Crocker is batshit crazy, and he holds a grudge like a pack rat hoards.”

“Oh.” I’d expected Joe to tell me there was nothing to worry about.

“Last I heard, he was in the county jail, awaiting trial.”

“The same jail I was in?”

“Sort of. You were in a holding cell. He’s somewhere more permanent.” Joe was silent for a moment. “I’ll do some digging. The sheriff’s office might know something.”

“Okay.”

“I sure wish the Henryetta Police weren’t a bunch of thick-headed Neanderthals who refuse to believe they aren’t infallible. I’d feel better if someone smart and prepared was watching out for you.”

I offered him a weak smile. “I’ve got my rolling pin.”

He scowled, not appreciating the reminder. “Why were you at church this morning?”

“I kind of got roped into it.”

“By Violet?”

I grimaced. “Her too.”

From the look on his face, Joe was starting to put things together. “You went to Jonah Pruitt’s church.”

I nodded as I scraped the chopped onions, peppers, and garlic into a skillet, suddenly grateful that I could keep my back to him as I saut�ed the vegetables.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, so I thought he’d decided to give it up. Then he finally said, “How’d it go working on his church this week?”

“Good. The guys got it all done before our deadline, with plenty of time to spare.”

Joe grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and leaned his hip against the counter. “What guys did you hire to help you?”

“David Moore and Bruce Wayne Decker.” I glanced over my shoulder to see his reaction.

“You hired the guy you kept out of prison and his drug-addicted best friend?”

“They did a really good job, Joe.”

“Uh huh.” He took a sip of his beer. “So you’re done with your job at the church?”

“Yeah, but we have a job at the parsonage that we’re starting on Monday.”

He shook his head. “I think doing any more work for Jonah Pruitt is a bad idea. Especially in light of this new information.”

“We deposited the money from the church grounds job into our bank account right away. We didn’t lose any money. And we’ll deposit the second check tomorrow. Jonah brought it by the store yesterday.”

“I’m more worried about losing you than I am about your money. This is starting to look really fishy.”

“Like I told Mason, if Jonah Pruitt had anything to do with Miss Dorothy’s death, he did it to get her money. I don’t have a will, and I don’t own this house. He’s got no reason to kill me.”

His eyes widened. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

I’d be the first to admit I wasn’t crazy about working for Jonah again, but admitting it to Joe wouldn’t help me plead my case. “Bruce Wayne is counting on me.”

He sighed, turning so that his butt rested against the edge of the counter. “Your responsibility to Bruce Wayne Decker ended the moment he stepped out of jail.”

“But no one will hire him, Joe. And he really likes landscaping.”

He shook his head in confusion. “Why do you care so much about what happens to him?”

I turned to face him. “Because he’s so much like me.”

“When were you ever a drug addict?” Joe asked sarcastically.

“Not that, and you know it. He’s an outcast, and no one wants to have anything to do with him, let alone give him a chance. He needs something to make him feel good about himself. Working with the earth and plants makes him happy. He feels like he’s accomplishing something. I don’t want to take that away from him.”

“Rose, he needs to take charge of his own life, just like you’ve taken charge of yours.”