Still, he was lucky to be alive, and that was more than could be said for Kirby Harwood, or the Whitmer boys, or the other guy, Joy. Or Shelby Walker and her mother, for that matter, or even Ty Winslow. All things considered, Mason figured he had no cause for complaint.

There was still the matter of the law, of course, and those bodies on Dixie Island and the million-dollar package hidden there too, and if Cole Sweeney hadn’t survived, Mason knew, the federal agents who’d descended upon Makah County might have been somewhat less inclined to believe a story peddled by a convicted murderer and a war veteran with severe PTSD, especially when the opposition party was composed of lawmen. But Sweeney was alive, and he apparently held Jess in some kind of esteem for not blowing his head off, because he’d copped to the whole fiasco when the DEA got him in an interview room.

Sweeney would walk with a limp for the rest of his life, but he wouldn’t do all of his walking in prison; the prevailing opinion in the coffee shops and watering holes in Makah County put the young deputy out of prison around the time he’d turn fifty. Which was bad, definitely, but it could have been worse, in just about every way.

Lucy shifted beneath the table, her collar jingling, and Mason bent down to rub her flank. The dog sighed and stretched out, content, her black fur warm in the sunshine.

“She’s going to miss you, you know,” Jess told Mason. “She’ll think I scared you off, and she’ll hate me for it.”

Mason didn’t look up. “Nah,” he said. “She’s your dog. She’ll be happy enough when you get a new couch.”

“That’ll take a while. There aren’t too many competent builders left in this county, and there damn sure aren’t many good furniture stores.”

She’d been staying at Hank Moss’s hotel with the dog while she figured out what to do about more permanent accommodations, the house she’d shared with Ty being a total write-off.

“Plenty of builders back east,” Mason said, and he still couldn’t look at her. “You all could join the party and come home, meet my kin.”

Jess sighed a little bit, rueful. “I wish I could, even just for a visit,” she said. “But they want me in the office first thing Monday morning, see how the whole system works.”

He looked up. “Who, Hart?”