He’d stopped pacing, and the echoes against the high ceiling faded. “Yes, sir.” His voice was stiff, almost robotic. “Of course, sir.” There was another moment of quiet before an enormous crash made her nearly jump out of her socks. “Fuck!”
Unable to resist seeing what, exactly, Chris had killed in his fit of rage, Daisy pushed open the door and cautiously poked her head inside. He whipped around to look at her, and his expression was ferocious enough to make her want to duck right back out of there. Instead, she raised her eyebrows.
“All that noise from just a weight bench going over?” she asked, taking a step into the room.
He stared at her a long moment, his chest moving quickly with his breath, before he gave a short shake of his head. “The bench hit the weight rack.”
As she moved closer to Chris and the overturned bench, she saw the hand weights scattered over the floor. “Ah.”
“Sorry.” The apology came from between still-gritted teeth. “I’ll clean it up.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll just give me more to do at two a.m. when I can’t sleep.” She smiled, but he didn’t return it, so she settled on another, upright bench. “What’d the sheriff have to say?”
The question made him start pacing again. “No.”
“Just no? That was it?”
“Pretty much.” He stomped over and straddled the bench so he sat facing her. “Well, that and I’m supposed to turn on my portable. Apparently, Dispatch has been trying to get ahold of me. Deputy Lawrence needs assistance with his current call.”
“Oh!” Drawing her knee onto the bench, she turned toward him, surprised he wasn’t hurrying out the door. “Shouldn’t you go, then, if he needs help?”
Chris snorted. “I heard Dispatch send the call to him when I was headed over here. Some tourists are missing the spare-tire cover off their Jeep. They think it was stolen while they were at The Coffee Spot.”
“Why would anyone want to steal a tire cover?” she asked, confused.
“No one would. It probably fell off somewhere, and they just noticed it now.”
The conversation still wasn’t making any sense to her. “So, why does Lawrence need your help with something so stupid?”
“He doesn’t.” Chris’s smile held no amusement. “This is my punishment.”
“Your punishment? For what?” Indignation raised her voice an octave.
Although he didn’t get up and start pacing again, Chris did begin jiggling his knee up and down. “I don’t get it. This isn’t like him. If anything, Rob sticks too closely to the rules. Everything is black and white with him. He’s a bulldog, too, about solving cases and enforcing the law. Why doesn’t he want to search the house?”
“Could he be protecting Deputy Macavoy?” Daisy guessed. “Or maybe the sheriff just really doesn’t like me, and it’s clouding his judgment.”
“That’s another thing.” He frowned, his leg still bouncing. It was strange to see calm Chris so agitated. Usually, he never had nervous tics. Daisy had always figured that she had enough anxiety for the pair of them. The more wound up Chris got, the calmer Daisy felt, as if there wasn’t room for her neuroses anymore. It was an unfamiliar sensation to be the sane one, but Daisy kind of liked it.
“What is?” she asked.
“Rob’s problem with you. Everyone else who’s met you falls in love within five minutes, but Rob’s determined that you’re some delusional, attention-seeking psychopath.” He gave her an apologetic glance. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you all of that.”
“It’s fine.” She tried to force a smile, but his unhappy look deepened, so she couldn’t have been very successful. “I figured as much, especially after listening in to your side of the conversation just now.”
Chris gave her a brief, chiding look but let her admission of eavesdropping go surprisingly easily. She supposed they had more important things to discuss than her lack of manners. It baffled her how loyal Chris was to the sheriff, how he and Daisy’s new circle of friends all thought Rob was a wonderful guy. It was as if he was a completely different person around Daisy than with everyone else. Was she seeing the real Sheriff Coughlin, or was he truly a stand-up guy, and she was just blinded by her resentment?
With a groan, Chris stood, interrupting her frustrated thoughts.
“I’d better go help Laurie with his tire-cover theft ring.” He rolled his neck, as if stretching out the kinks of annoyance. “With Rob acting so out of character, I don’t want to push him too far. If I get fired, the only job I’ll be able to get around here is with Lou at The Coffee Spot.”
“You could work for Highway Patrol,” she suggested, taking his proffered hands and allowing him to help her to her feet. “I like their squad cars. Very sporty.”
His laugh was a little rusty, but at least it was there. “I don’t know if I could do traffic all day. I like my job—at least I did, before my boss went nuts on me.”