“You think the local LEOs trend that way?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I hope not.” He shifted restlessly and changed the subject. “What’s on your agenda for today?”

“Check on the aircraft. Maybe wander around the lake, poke my head into the air taxis and flightseeing companies.”

“I saw what looked like an FBO north of the terminal.”

“With a G-2 parked in front of it, yeah. I’m not looking for a job on the ground. Especially not one where I have to cater to people who have more money than sense who you just know are going to want to fly and shoot same day.”

“You want something on the reg, or for hire.”

“All I know for sure is I don’t want to work with assholes.”

He laughed. “Right there with you, babe.” He kissed her. Things were just getting interesting when muffled sounds came from beyond the door. He groaned. “Jo’s up. How long is she here for again?”

Her turn to grin. “You worried she might move in permanent?”

He rolled his eyes, but indeed it was not the least of his worries. Wy’s parents were disengaged, almost asocial, and so not much present in their daughter’s life, other than insisting that she get a college degree. So Wy had built her own family, beginning with Jo, her college roommate, and Jo’s family, including a brother of whom Liam would rather not think.

“Dibs on the shower,” Wy said. She got up and stretched while he admired the view again. “Agatha Christie said your house had to be big enough not to bump your bum on the furniture while you were cleaning. Even the bathrooms are roomy in this house.” She grinned at him over her shoulder. “The beer business must be good.”

“I think it is if you know what you’re doing.”

They presented themselves in the kitchen, cleaned and scrubbed and possibly a little too self-satisfied, because Jo rolled her eyes at first look. “Coffee’s on.” A ding. “And the monkey knuckles are ready to come out of the oven.”

“Oh, boy.” As one they rushed for the oven. The monkey knuckles, miniature tear-apart cinnamon rolls, were a rich, crusty, brown glistening with sugar and butter and smelled like heaven. “Yum.”

They sat down at the dining room table and tried not to make pigs of themselves.

“You’re not rushing down to the post.” Jo’s tone was more mild inquiry than outraged taxpayer so Liam didn’t rise.

“I’m not officially on duty until next Monday.”

“Are you going back out to take a look in that cave?”

“I thought I might.” He waited.

“I think I’ll follow you out there.”

“I thought you might.”

She flipped him off. Wy laughed.

“Jesus,” Jo said, standing next to him at the top of the cliff.

“Yeah,” Liam said, for once in complete agreement with her.

Her vehicle and Liam’s truck were squeezed in next to Erik’s old Ford. The sky was cloudy but at least it wasn’t raining yet. He hesitated, and then shrugged. He turned sideways to the slope and began side-stepping down, digging the edges of his boots into the ground. Even then he slid almost halfway there, but at least it was a more controlled slide than Monday’s. Above him, Jo inched her way, sometimes by the seat of her pants, sometimes voluntarily.