“Not something you like.”
“I think you get me, honey.”
He felt a muscle tick up his cheek.
“I’m fine, Hope. Thanks for stoppin’ by but I got shit I really gotta see to.”
She nodded. “Yes, I . . . yes . . . well,” she stammered, looked back to the windows, and when he got her attention again, he clenched his hands into fists at the hurt he saw stark there. “I just . . . I know now’s not the time but I heard you were, well, last night you went to . . .” She paused then said like she had to force it to come out, “Her.”
It sucked that, after all her recent behavior, he totally could believe she came there not to see how he was doing but to share in her way she didn’t like it he was spending time with, not to mention doing, someone else.
But they were not going to get into this and not just because it was none of her freaking business.
“Hope—”
“You know,” she started quickly, “that I know that I made it that way. That was my fault. But now I’m here to say that I’m here, Hix, if you need me. You need someone to talk to. You can come to me.”
“Thanks for the offer,” he pushed out.
“I know we haven’t been getting along real great, but that offer’s genuine, Hixon.”
“’Preciate it.”
“Seriously.”
Christ.
“Hope, I got shit to do.”
Her body gave a small jerk and she whispered, “Right. Yeah. Of course. Of course, honey. I’ll just . . . get back to Mom and Dad’s. They say they’re thinkin’ of you and the team, and of course that poor family.”
“Right.”
“Well, better go,” she muttered.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
She looked into his eyes, sucking his time, making it clear the effort she was expending to force a smile his way at the same time still not hiding the hurt she felt he’d gone to Greta and not giving him a hint of the concern she was pretending to feel for him, which was the lie behind the reason she’d come there.
“Talk to you later?” she asked.
He didn’t know what to say to that without saying something he shouldn’t so he decided just to keep his mouth shut.
“Okay, well . . . later.”
“’Bye, Hope.”
She nodded, hesitated, and when he said no more and gave her nothing, she turned and slowly walked to the door, giving him ample time to call her back.
He did not.
He also didn’t look out the window to watch her go.
He sat down, texted all his deputies to let them know the notice would go up on the Guide website within the hour, walked out to Reva to give her that same news, went back to his office and got back on the phone.
He was into his final call when his cell beeped again.
He bit back a curse as he listened to the sheriff of Wheeler County telling him he’d keep his crew sharp in keeping an eye out for Calloway’s truck.
But he felt himself relax when the text displayed faded away.
He got off the call, picked up his cell and engaged it, fully reading Greta’s text.
Folks at the Harlequin say you got a thing for their Reuben so I’m bringing you one even if I have to drive it all the way across the county. So text me your whereabouts, smokey.
He grinned as he texted back, Office, babe.
I’ll be there soon, she replied.
She didn’t lie and ten minutes later Hix caught her coming in.
He got up and moved out to go and get her.
“Hey,” she called when she saw him come out of the back hall.
“Hey,” he replied. “Come on back.”
She glanced to Reva, smiled that way then came through the swinging half door.
He met her halfway down the aisle and turned. Taking the plastic bag with the Styrofoam box flattening the bottom from her hand, he put his other hand to her elbow and led her to his office.
He let her go and went right to the whiteboard, flipping it around so the timeline and the photos taped to it were not facing the room. This was not so she wouldn’t see confidential details of an investigation, but so she wouldn’t see disturbing photos of a dead man.
“Is this okay?” she asked as he turned to her, her eyes to the now blank board.
“What?” he asked in return.
She looked to him. “Coming here.” She lifted her hand to indicate the bag. “Bringing you lunch.”
He smiled. “Hell yeah.”
She smiled back.
Hix looked down and opened the knots to the bag, seeing inside there was only one tray.
He raised his head. “Nothing for you?”
“It’s my day off,” she told him. “And I’ve got a ton to do so I’m just dropping that off to make sure you eat something and then I have to get to doing it.”
“Right,” he replied, having a ton to do too but thinking he wished part of it was being able to spend fifteen minutes eating a sandwich with her.
“That ton to do includes buying another bottle of bourbon,” she shared. “I’m running low.”
Hix smiled again. “Right.”
“And, well . . . um, buying other things,” she went on.
Hix started chuckling. “I get a say in priority of these two items, bourbon would come in second.”
Greta started laughing.
It died away, she gave him a close look and what was behind her eyes was not about her, it was about him.
“You doin’ okay?” she asked softly.
“Yeah, babe.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Though one thing I’m not doin’ okay about is that I’d really like to kiss you to say thanks for the Reuben. But Reva wouldn’t share shit that happened in this department that had to do with sheriff business, even if she was waterboarded. Gossip does not hold that same level of confidentiality. Not even close.”
She was back to smiling when she said, “I understand.”
He wasn’t far away from her but he got closer. “Tonight, meet you at your porch.”
“Okay,” she replied.
“Don’t know when, it might be late, but I’ll text you before I show.”
“Sounds good, Hixon.”
“And thanks for lunch, Greta.”
She swayed to him, her eyes to his, but didn’t touch him. “My pleasure, snuggle bug.”
He chuckled again.
She grinned, reached out and touched a finger to the back of his hand and said, “Later.”
He knew the response to that.
“Yeah, sweetheart, later.”
She kept grinning at him even as she turned and walked out the door.
Hix watched her leave his department, doing it waving again at Reva.
Then he went back to the whiteboard, flipped it back around, pulled the Styrofoam out of the bag, set the bag aside, opened the box and ate, standing up and staring at the board in front of him.
Half the sandwich gone, pickle decimated, one bite into the second half, Hix froze, and mouth full, he mumbled, “Shit.”
He closed the Styrofoam, went to his desk and nabbed his cell.
He shoved it in his breast pocket, and still carrying the sandwich, he took off out the door, going to Reva and only saying, “You got reception,” before he hauled ass out of the building.
He ate the rest of the sandwich in his Ram between phone calls.