It was a twenty-minute drive up to Hogan’s Pass. The road turned to gravel and became steeper, but my car’s GPS finally steered me toward a pale blue house on the left side of the road.

“The guy lives here?” Marco asked, leaning forward and squinting as we drove closer. “It looks like it needs to be condemned.”

“Chuck said it was about to fall down on them, and he said he hoped it did.”

“Nice guy.”

“He was upset and angry,” I said, not quite sure why I was defending him. Chuck Holston might have been wronged by Ashlynn, assuming he’d told the truth, but he was still an asshole.

“I see a car next to the house. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”

I shot a glance at him as I drove down the road at a crawl, letting my gaze drop to his chest for a second before looking back out the window.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Were you checkin’ me out?”

My face flushed. That hadn’t been my intention, but there was no denying I’d appreciated the view. “I was looking at your uniform. Do you think it’s a good idea for you to come to the door?”

“In this case, yes. I’ll make sure they know I’m there on unofficial business. You can just tell them we had lunch together and you decided to drop by to check on Ashlynn.”

“Okay,” I said, not totally convinced by his rationale. It didn’t seem like a good idea for him to involve himself so openly, whether off the clock or not. For one thing, I doubted Jonathon and Ashlynn, if she was there, would talk to a uniformed officer, and for another, I didn’t want him to risk his job, his life. But I wasn’t about to tell him I didn’t want him there. “That means I take the lead.”

I drove into the mostly dirt driveway and parked behind the small rusted red pickup truck. Marco pulled a notebook out of his pocket and jotted down the license plate number from the truck. “Just in case,” he said as he put it back in his pocket.

We got out of the car and headed toward the dilapidated porch. Marco wrapped an arm around my back, catching me off guard, and when I glanced up at him with a questioning look, he leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Like I said, I’m not here on official business. You’re checking up on a friend, and I’m just with you because I’m on my lunch hour.” He flashed a tight grin. “I say we sell the this isn’t official angle hard.”

“While also letting them know you’re a deputy.”

He tilted his head and grinned. “I knew you were smart.”

We carefully made our way across the porch to the door, and I knocked. The door had so much wood rot I was worried it would fall apart from the jarring.

A few seconds later, a skinny guy who looked like he wasn’t a day over twenty opened the door.

“Jonathon Whitmore?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He had a panicked look when he saw Marco. “I wasn’t no part of that mess, and you can’t pin it on me.”

Marco lifted his hands up. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, and I don’t wanna know.” He tilted his head toward me. “I’m just here with Carly.”

The kid shifted his attention to me, his gaze dipping down to take in my dress before lifting back up to my face.

Marco took a step toward me to let the guy know we were together.

“Hi,” I said in my sweetest voice. “I’m Carly Moore, and I know Ashlynn. I drove her into Ewing yesterday, and I know she didn’t show up to work. I heard you might know where she is. I’m worried about her. With her momma in jail and her being pregnant…” I let my voice trail off and smiled.

The guy flashed a glance at Marco.

“I only here because we were eating lunch together, and she asked me to come with her. You know how dicey it can get for a woman alone in these parts.”

That surprised me, but I filed it in my questions to ask later pile.

The guy nodded, seeming to find Marco’s suggestion acceptable, then turned back to me. “You’re the one who took her to the jail.”

“Yes!” I said, getting excited. “That means you’ve talked to her.”

He glanced over her shoulder into the house, and a few seconds later, Ashlynn appeared behind him.

I let out a genuine sigh of relief. “Thank goodness you’re okay. I was so worried.”

She scowled, but it looked forced. “I don’t know why. I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but I felt responsible. What happened? I went to pick you up, and you weren’t there.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “I went by the pharmacy to see if you’d shown up, but Mr. Jones said you were a no-show.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t tell you where I worked.”

“I know, but I figured you didn’t work at Walgreens, so I tried Jones.”

Ashlynn didn’t look impressed with my sleuthing skills.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “Do you need a ride home? Or maybe to Selena’s place?”

“I’m fine,” she said in a huff.

“Could we talk to you outside for a moment?” Marco said.

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“We want to ask you a question about your baby,” I said.

No sooner had the question come out than I wanted to stuff it back in. Wow. I was handling this badly.

She eyed Marco, then asked me, “Did Chuck send you?”

“No,” I said. “But I spoke to him.”

Propping her hand on her hip, she shot me a glare. “And he told you that cockamamie nonsense that he’s not the daddy?”

“Do you want to have this conversation here?” I asked. “Or would you rather come outside?”

“We don’t have any secrets,” Jonathon said, clamping a hand on her shoulder. “We’re best friends. What are you talkin’ about? Of course Chuck’s her baby’s daddy.”

From the look on Ashlynn’s face, she didn’t want to have this discussion in front of him, but she also didn’t want to tell him to go away.

“Ashlynn…?” I asked.

“Chuck’s full of crap,” she said.

“Why would he say he’s not the dad?” Jonathon asked.

I really didn’t want to bring this up in front of him, but Ashlynn wouldn’t come outside, and she wasn’t telling me to shut up.

“He says he found out you’re a month further along than he thought.” I hated myself as the words crossed my lips. “That he was in jail when you would have gotten pregnant.”

Jonathon’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“It ain’t yours,” Ashlynn shot over her shoulder.

“But we screwed that one time while he was in jail!” he protested, his eyes wide. “When we got shit-faced on Fireball.”

“It ain’t yours!”

“Ashlynn,” I said, figuring I might as well go for broke since I’d already blown it this much. “Did you know Jim Palmer?”

She stared at me for a moment, then said defensively, “Well, yeah. I knew him from church.”