Page 13 of By the Book

“No, I’m okay,” I manage, my mind reeling from his warm, gentle touch.

He pulls me up and into a hug, my body finally allowing itself to relax in his embrace. I take what may be my only opportunity in this lifetime to nuzzle against him and inhale his woodsy scent. Completely enveloped by Tripp, I feel safe, shielded from the chaos around me. It’s enough to help me take a steadying breath.

When his hand slides up my jaw to the back of my head, cradling me against him, heat pulses through my body. Does he realize what he’s doing to me?

My own hands slide upward, resting with my palms against his flannel covered chest. I can feel his solid, fit body through the thick material, and use it to ground myself further.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs with a strain in his voice. Lifting my head to meet his gaze, I want to tell him that he has no reason to be sorry. That he is the one that saved me, he is the one pulling me out of my panic. But he levels me with that look of pained anger once again and my mouth goes dry. In the ten years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen this look before tonight.

“Boss.” Millie’s voice behind us breaks through the protective bubble Tripp’s encased me in.

Dropping his hand to rest on my back, he keeps me close to him while turning to face her. “Deputy,” he replies, his voice more even now. “What is it?”

“This one is different.”

“Of course it is. Ivy was here,” Tripp bites before loosening a sigh. “Sorry, continue.”

Millie nods in understanding. “Besides that, they left a note. It’s the first time there’s been any kind of communication.”

He furrows his brow at the white paper in her hand. “What does it say?”

“You won’t catch me,” she reads aloud, handing the crisp note to Tripp. I steal a glance at it in his hand, the words typed out in a small, simple black font.

“Shouldn’t something like this be more menacing? They’re always scrawled out in bold red sharpies, right?” I wonder, thinking of the suspense novels I’ve read recently.

A small smirk teases at the corner of Tripp’s mouth, a flash of amusement passing across his eyes. They are the first signs that he’s settled some of his anger. “Afraid not.”

“This just doesn’t seem as scary,” I point out.

“This should all be scary enough,” he says, motioning around us. “Don’t get me wrong. I hate the idea of you afraid. Please know that I’ll keep you safe. But the fact that they included a note at all…”

I’ll keep you safe. The declaration hangs in the air between us. It feels like a personal promise.

“Why would a teen leave the shore to hit here?” Mrs. Silberman asks, her brows pinched in confusion.

“It’s not some restless tourist kid,” Tripp replies, his hand on my back now tracing small circles with his thumb.

His casual caress is foreign to me. After all, this is Tripp. But as confused as my brain is, my body ignites from his touch.

Millie nods. Her lips clasped in a tight line, she asks, “Do you want to tell the town that it’s a local?”

“Not yet. For now, no one says anything about the note, either. Another instance of vandalism, that’s all you say. Don’t let anyone know Ivy was here. And get the tip line number outthere. This is the first time they hit a more populated place, and earlier in the evening. Someone saw something. Finish what you need for your report, I’ll get Ivy’s statement later so don’t worry about that.”

Tripp turns to Anne Silberman next. “This goes for you too, ma’am. Don’t say a word to anyone.”

Marching orders given; the deputy returns to the task at hand, Mrs. Silberman following close behind.

Wordlessly, Tripp shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. It’s not until the heat from the garment hits me that I realize how cold I’ve been. It’s a harsh October breeze that passes through the shattered glass door at the storefront, one that causes a shiver to escape me as he guides my arms into the sleeves. I’ve been completely paralyzed since this whole thing has started, and more grateful than ever for his attentive gestures.

“I’m going to check everything out, but then I’ll take you home and we can do your statement there. I can stay, I don’t want you to be alone tonight,” he says in a tone that makes it sound like a marching order of my own.

If I was in shock before, I’m certain my jaw is now on the floor. Disbelief radiates from me as he walks away with that parting statement.I can stay, I don’t want you to be alone tonight. His words rattle around my head, looking for a place to land. But I’m struggling for a way to make sense of what comes next.

Tripp Forester. In my apartment overnight. Suddenly, I welcome the chilly night. The biting breeze effectively cools the heat that is climbing up my neck and across my face.

I need a distraction. Looking around, I spot Millie occupied with paperwork, her head bent low over the damaged checkout counter. Tripp is making his first pass through the scene, having rushed past it all to get to me upon his arrival. And I’m standinghere, useless, in the center of it all. The feeling grates on me. Millie seems like my best bet at the moment, so I make my way over and lean on the counter beside her.

“Thanks for earlier,” I start.

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