His mouth hung open. Daisy was tempted to close it with a finger on his chin, but she supposed she’d pushed him far enough for the day, especially since he’d come running over when she’d needed help.
“There are so many things wrong with what you just said. I’ve never run away from anything,” Chris said. Daisy hid another grin. Of course, accusing him of running off was what had tweaked him the worst. “And I’m not a hug-blocker, whatever that is.”
“Yeah, you kind of are.”
“I’m not—are you laughing?”
“Sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Well, maybe a little, but I’m mostly really happy that I’m not having hallucinations.”
His outraged expression softened. “You’re as sane as I am, Dais.” He finally took a sip of his coffee, his eyes fixed on something over her shoulder as he thought. “What’s Rob’s deal, I wonder?”
The thought of the sheriff made her stomach start churning again, in a mix of anger and apprehension. “The dispatcher said he wanted to know if I called. Isn’t that…weird?”
“It is unusual.” His thoughtful frown deepened. “I’ll check with…do you know which dispatcher you talked to last night?”
“I didn’t get a name, but she had a squeaky voice.”
Chris’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Libby. I’ll see if she’s working tonight. Maybe she’ll know why Rob’s fixated on you.”
Her stomach lurched. “Fixated?”
Refocusing on her face, Chris shook his head. “Wrong word, sorry. I’m wondering if he’s thinking Macavoy’s going to try some moonlighting again, so Rob’s using you as his security system.”
Although she tried to smile at his weak joke, Daisy wasn’t very successful. The idea of having the sheriff’s focus on her for whatever reason was not a pleasant thought.
“Isn’t Gabe back yet?” Chris’s scowl had returned.
“Nope.” She kept her voice light. “The Connor Springs job must’ve hit a snag.”
His grunt was skeptical. “I’m back on nights now, so call me if anything comes up.”
“Will do.”
“Good.” Grabbing one of Gabe’s travel mugs from the cupboard, Chris dumped the remaining coffee from his cup into the to-go mug. “And I don’t hate it when you touch me.”
“Uh-huh.”
He rinsed the daisy mug and put it in the dishwasher. “I don’t. It just makes it…harder.”
Since his back was turned, he couldn’t see her confused expression. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” He blew out a breath and headed for the door. “Never mind. See you later, Dais.”
As she locked the inside door behind him, she yelled through the wood, “You are so weird, Deputy Jennings!”
If he responded, she didn’t hear him.
*
“He did what?!” Lou leaned forward, a teriyaki meatball hovering inches from her mouth.
Hearing the horror in the other woman’s voice made Daisy hedge her words. “It could’ve just been a case of not watching where he was stepping, I suppose.”
“He’s the sheriff,” Lou said flatly. “He was looking for evidence. That’s pretty sad if he trampled on the very boot prints he was looking for by accident.” Eyeing the meatball in front of her face as if trying to figure out how it got there, she popped it into her mouth.
“It does seem strangely incompetent of him,” Rory agreed. “He can be hard-edged, but I’ve never found Rob to be inept.”
Ellie frowned. “You don’t think Rob did that on purpose, do you? But he’s such a sweetheart. Since this whole Anderson King thing started, he’s been wonderful about lending me his deputies every time George gets called away. Plus, he organized that search for my father. I just can’t imagine him hiding evidence.”
“He’s always been upfront with me, too,” Lou added. As silence filled the room, Daisy shifted uncomfortably. These women didn’t know her very well at all. To them, she was probably still that weird shut-in. If she kept pushing, insisting that the sheriff had covered up evidence—either by accident or on purpose—Daisy would not only lose the argument, but she’d probably lose her only chance at friends, too. In a determinedly cheerful voice, she said, “Let’s talk about the Gray case.”
“Okay.” Lou hopped up from the couch and hurried over to the pile of stuff she’d dumped in the corner of Daisy’s living room. Daisy got up to help, but Lou already had an easel set up and an oversized pad of paper propped on it before Daisy even reached her.
“Is this the substitute whiteboard?” Ellie asked, smiling.
“It is.” Lou pulled out a set of markers. “Cal volunteered to bring the real one here in the back of the pickup, but with the sleeting-raining thing it’s doing outside, I didn’t want to risk having the whole thing erased by the time we got here. I needed something whiteboard-like, though. It helps me to see things written down when I’m trying to figure something out.”
“Where is Callum?” Ellie asked.
“City Council meeting.”
That was met with a chorus of groans from everyone except Daisy.