I moved to snag another chip, but Nash hauled the bag to his chest. “Mine.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. He looked like Gollum inLord of the Rings.
Both my brothers’ eyes widened, and they gaped at me.
“What?”
Lawson shook himself out of his stupor. “You laughed.”
“So?” I said, a hint of annoyance slipping into my tone.
Nash studied me for a moment. “It’s not that you never laugh; you chuckle sometimes. But it’s not like that.”
Lawson grinned. “It’s Aspen. She’s got him whistling a merry tune these days.”
“Oh, grow up,” I muttered.
Nash leaned back in his chair. “It’s true. You’re different. Lighter. You talk more, too.”
It was probably because I was around Cady all the time. She never stopped talking. I’d gotten used to the noise instead of constant silence.
I fought the urge to squirm in my seat.
“Happy for you, man,” Lawson said. “Commitment looks good on you.”
I glanced at my older brother, taking in the circles under his eyes and the scruff on his jaw. “Could look good on you, too.”
Lawson’s face closed down. “Think I’ll pass on that.”
Nash popped a chip into his mouth. “It’s a freakin’ waste, seeing how all the single women in this town would give their left ovary for a chance at the chief of police.”
He glared at Nash. “They would not.”
I arched a brow at him. “I don’t know about that. I’ve seen you with some stage-five clingers.”
That glare turned to me. “I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk.”
Nash burst out laughing. “That’s cold.”
I just shook my head, but my lips twitched. “You guys were always on me toparticipate,join in. Careful what you wish for.”
“Don’t worry, I’m regretting it right about now,” Lawson muttered.
A knock sounded on the open door, and Sheriff Jenkins stepped inside. “Afternoon.”
“Bruce,” Lawson greeted.
“Law,” he said in return, taking a seat. “How are things around here?”
“Quiet,” Lawson said. “I don’t like it.”
Sheriff Jenkins frowned. “I get it. That prickle at the back of your neck that says this isn’t over.”
Lawson nodded.
Nash set his bag of chips down. “Maybe the vet and Luisa are wrong. If the knife marks aren’t actually a match, then this death could be an isolated incident. Wrong place, wrong time sort of thing.”
Sheriff Jenkins let out a low whistle. “Don’t be letting Luisa hear you think she got it wrong.”