Worth Fighting For

“The world isn’t going to help us with Haven House.”

“Donations would help and a little good press would make me sleep easier.”

“We don’t need good press, so why pander?”

“You are the most stubborn man I’ve ever met, Jonah. I’m your partner. And I’m telling you—I’m actually saying it loud and clear so you understand—you’re making a mistake. We need to talk to the papers. I know at least four journalists who would love to interview us.”

Ouch. He and Gary didn’t often disagree but when they did, it had been proven time and time again that Gary was right.

Jonah liked to pretend that wasn’t the case, but facts didn’t lie.

“Fine. They can interview you.”

“I’m not the Dirty Developer,” Gary said. “I’m the Dirty Developer’s associate.”

Jonah knew it was practically a done deal before he even agreed. Gary was tricky that way. Tricky and smart. “Fine. Get in touch with them and e-mail me the details.”

Jonah glanced at the window and saw the little girl duck again, just out of sight. The bushes rustled and he heard her whispering to someone or into a tape recorder. The redhead—Jonah would guess she was about ten—had been out there for most of the day, spying on him. The spy had astounding stamina and determination. He’d only been working and even he was beginning to find that dull.

He smiled, remembering doing a similar thing to Sheila after finding out she was a full-blooded Hopi Indian. He’d followed her hoping to see some scalping. But she only grocery shopped and walked her dog. The disappointment had been sharp so he decided to give young Mata Hari a thrill.

“Gary,” he said, watching the window from the corner of his eye. “Listen carefully. We’re going to put the bodies—”

“Bodies?”

“Right. The dead bodies. The dead bodies we killed.” He winced at his redundancy but the bushes were unnaturally silent. “We’re going to put them in the river.”

Something fell outside his window. A bush rustled and the little girl yelped.

“No mistakes,” Jonah said, smiling, straining to try to see the girl. “Or I’ll kill you, too.”

“Jonah, you should come back to the city,” Gary said. “All that clear air is making you crazy.”

Jonah heard the little girl talking to someone then heard the deep rumble of Patrick’s voice and his smile vanished. “Send me that e-mail,” Jonah said, distracted by the sound of Patrick and the girl walking up the sidewalk outside his cottage.

Great. Visitors.

“Got it,” Gary answered and hung up as a knock sounded at the door.

Jonah opened the door and found the old man, his hand on the girl’s shoulder.

The little girl, wearing head to toe purple, looked tortured, but she still managed to give him the evil eye. He swallowed a crack of laughter.

“This is Josie,” Patrick said, his gaze flicking between them. “And she has something to say.”

Jonah wanted to roll his eyes, call out the old man for this useless display of what…manners? Honor? Jonah didn’t believe a moment of it. Patrick wouldn’t know honor if it had bitten him on the ass.

“I’ve been spying on you,” Josie said, gesturing limply to the window.

“And…?” Patrick prompted.

“And—” she rolled her eyes “—I’m sorry.”

Jonah nodded at her and her tortured expression changed slightly. She craned her neck to get a better look inside his cabin.

The girl was stubborn, and Jonah understood stubborn.

My kind of kid, he thought.

“You go see what Chef Tim has for you to do in the kitchen,” Patrick told the girl and she scowled.

“Again?”

“You got caught,” Patrick said, shaking his head, “again.”

“But—” She looked at Jonah then Patrick, and Jonah realized that she didn’t want to leave the old man alone with him, maybe suspecting Jonah would add Patrick to the pile of bodies in the river.

“I knew you were out there,” he told the little girl. “I made that up about the bodies.”

“Really?” she asked, eyeing him shrewdly and again he almost laughed.

“Really.”

He felt Patrick’s gaze on him, hopeful and surprised. Yes, Jonah wanted to snap at him, the Dirty Developer has a sense of humor.

But he didn’t want Patrick to know anything about him.

She hesitated as if to say she didn’t believe him but then she nodded. “Okay. But if Patrick goes missing, I’m an eyewitness. I’ll testify.”

Jonah blinked, stunned slightly by the legal vernacular.

“Get going,” Patrick said, bodily turning the girl around and giving her a push toward the lodge.

Josie sighed heavily and stomped off, leaving Patrick and Jonah alone. Jonah realized this was the moment Patrick had been waiting for since he’d arrived.

Josie hadn’t been the only one haunting the outside of his cabin.

“Josie and her mother were in a scrape with the law last winter,” Patrick explained. “She saw and heard some things she shouldn’t have and spent some time in court this spring testifying. She caught on to the lingo.”

Jonah watched the girl go until the door of the lodge shut behind her.

“Why don’t you come on out?” Patrick said. “I’ll give you a tour. Take you down to the river.” His tone seemed casual, but he couldn’t control the hope that rolled off him, nearly suffocating Jonah.

“I’m working.”

Patrick sucked in a quick breath but kept his smile intact. The man wasn’t going to budge.

“Your mother—”