Page 75 of By the Book

I have his attention, so I continue. “Nothing happened between us until you pushed us together. You know the story—a damsel in distress and a hero coming to her rescue. It’s a classic trope. So, if your goal was to hurt Tripp, I think you had the opposite effect by picking me.”

Of course, that’s not all it is between us. What I feel for Tripp runs much deeper than a girl fawning for the hero. But my story seems to be causing him pause, which is exactly what I need to happen.

Adjusting his baseball cap, Chuck shakes his head at me. “It doesn’t matter, Ivy. It doesn’t matter! You brought the rest on yourself by taking my keys. How could you do that?”

“It’s not like I stole them from your pocket! All of this,” I wave my arms around me, “it’s your doing! You made a choice. An illegal choice, by the way. But you know that as a deputy. I trusted you; I have my whole life. We all trusted you as a man with a badge. How could you do this Chuck?”

“He has no right being sheriff. I was the one by Winston’s side every step of the way. I was his right hand. I have the experience, the knowledge. And when the time came, Winston hand-picked Tripp and endorsed him. It’s bullshit is what it is.”

“How is that Tripp’s fault? Go talk to Winston!” I shout. Immediately, my hand flies over my mouth. Yelling at him is not a good idea. I take a shaky breath and fold my hands together in front of me, keeping my composure once again.

I can be the polite, soft spoken, young lady that he watched grow up. It will remind him just who he’s pointing the gun at. Dropping my voice to a sweet, calm tone, I continue. “I just think maybe it would help more if you talked to Winston. Maybe if you can understand why he did that, we can work it out. And I’d like us to work this out. I don’t have to tell anyone that you were here tonight. You know you can trust me.”

“You won’t tell your new boyfriend?” he growls skeptically. “Come on, sweetheart. I know you’ll tell him everything in bed, right?”

I feel as if he just threw a bucket of cold water at my face. How could he say that? After cheering for me at every milestone in life and telling me how proud he was of me. I have the chance to still be the polite, sweet girl he knows. But he’ll never be the kind, fatherly man I saw him as, not ever again.

“No, I can’t trust you to keep this from Tripp,” he decides. “Why did you have to come back here tonight? I saw you leave. You were done for the day!”

“You were watching me? Why?”

He doesn’t answer, returning to pacing once again. I watch him from my seat, thinking about how many times Tripp warned me about being careful. I can’t believe I walked inside tonight when the door was open. I’m the only one with keys to the shop and?—

“Keys.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found your keys yet, have you? That’s why you are here. You knew they weren’t checked into evidence.”

“And your point?”

“I can get those for you.” I start to rise from my seat, thinking that I can use this to get to my phone. I listen for my racing heart, my jagged breathing. Nothing. I take note of my hands, and they aren’t shaking. This is significantly more terrifying than anything I have ever experienced, and I’m handling it. I’m okay, all things considered.

“Or you can tell me where you have them,” he snaps, grabbing hold of my arm and yanking me to a stop.

“I was just going to get your keys,” I reply innocently. “No tricks.”

Chuck releases my arm and steps to the side. “No tricks, right,” he mutters, casting his gaze over to the shop windows instead and watching for anyone approaching. “Tell me where they are.”

I have to think fast, and it has to be complicated. There will only be a small window of time, but if I can get him back to my office, I can run for the door. “Okay, back in my office there is a hidden compartment in my desk. I tucked it in there to try to solve the case myself.”

“Yeah, I saw you come into the station, playing detective,” he scoffs. “Where is the compartment?”

Behind Chuck, I see movement at the front window. Then a hand is reaching up to mute the bell above the door and he’s sneaking inside. My heart leaps in my chest at the sight of Tripp, I knew he’d come. Shaking his head, he brings a finger to his lips and dips behind the shelves across the way from us.

Chuck follows my gaze, looking over his shoulder. Luckily, Tripp is now out of sight. “Where is the damn compartment, Ivy?”

“It’s under my desk, you’ll reach down and just feel your way back. You can’t miss it.”

He nods, turning and heading in the direction of my office. When he’s aligned with the aisle Tripp is hidden in, I hear, “Drop the fucking gun.”

An audible gasp escapes me at the deep, sultry voice that makes my heart soar. The way he can command a situation is enough to make me forget the gravity of this situation. Tripp is here, I’m safe now.

The sound of a click is followed by a concentrated stream of light flooding out at Chuck. The older man stumbles back in surprise, blinded by the beam. And then Tripp steps into view.

His perfect jaw is set in a hard line. The gun light casts shadows across his face, only exaggerating the murderous look on his face. His eyes, in particular, are locked onto Chuck with such coldness, a shiver runs through me. And he holds his gun with chilling steadiness, pointed directly at my captor.

“I’m not here as a sheriff tonight. I’m here as a really fucking pissed off boyfriend, ready to kill you for pointing a gun at my girl.”

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