Page 21 of In Safe Hands
Stunned into immobility, Daisy felt the jump rope smack her shins. “You’ve been here for twenty minutes.”
“So?” Despite the speed of the rope, his voice was conversational. Daisy wondered what it would take to make him breathless and then blushed as her mind jumped right into the gutter. Clearing her throat, she refocused.
“You’re just telling me this now?” She was tempted to use the jump rope to strangle the man. That might make him breathless.
He made a sound that was the verbal equivalent of a shrug. Daisy waited for a few more slaps of his rope against the floor and then demanded, “So?”
“So?” Although he turned his face to hide it, she caught a tiny grin and knew he was messing with her. She was leaning more and more toward strangling.
“Chris Jennings. Do not make me kill you.”
He laughed and finally stopped jumping. “Rob called the owners of the house. They’re living in Florida and said that they hired Angus Macavoy to clear out some junk in the back yard.”
“Angus Macavoy?” The name didn’t ring a bell. “Have you told me about him before?”
“Don’t think so.” Chris put both handles in his right hand and absently began swinging the rope in vertical circles. Eyeing the blurred rope, Daisy took a cautious step away from a potential unintentional slap. “He just started six months or so ago.”
“That was him yesterday morning, then? Why was he doing it at three thirty?”
“According to Rob, who had a little chat with Macavoy about using a department vehicle for personal use, all the junk he’d cleared wouldn’t fit in his compact car. Yesterday, after he’d worked the three-to-three swing shift, he decided to stop by and pick up the pile of stuff in the SUV. He hauled it to the junkyard and then went home to sleep.”
“Why wasn’t he in his uniform?”
Chris was doing figure-eight loops with the jump rope now. “He likes to change before he leaves work.”
It took a few seconds to process the explanation, to make it fit with what she saw. The feeling of menace she’d experienced while watching must have been her imagination. “Of course there’s a reason that doesn’t involve someone dying. Sorry to drag you along on this fake mystery train, Chris.”
“I’m glad you told me. It was definitely suspicious. Your neighborhood tips help a lot, especially with nipping that Corbin kid’s shenanigans in the bud.”
“Shenanigans? And Lou called me an Amish grandma?” Her smile was short-lived, and she groaned with embarrassment. “I can’t believe the sheriff wasted his time on this.”
“Wasn’t a waste,” Chris countered. “In fact, he said to thank you for giving him the heads-up that Macavoy was misusing resources. Rob’ll keep a closer eye on him from now on.”
Although she nodded, her face still burned at the memory of the sheriff’s sharp gaze watching her as she talked about dead bodies. “Your boss is…”
Chris picked that moment to pull up the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe his face, revealing his abs. His T-shirt still lifted, he eyed her over the fabric. “He’s…what? Tenacious? Humor-free? A workaholic? A hottie?”
“Well, I was going to say intense, but now I’m more interested in discussing the fact that you’re attracted to your boss.”
He snorted, finally letting his shirt drop back into place, which allowed Daisy’s brain to start functioning again. “I was just quoting one of the girls on a class tour a couple of weeks ago. Not the workaholic and humorless part, though. That was all me.”
“Huh.” During the sheriff’s visit, she’d been too stressed, embarrassed, and a host of other negative emotions to rank him on the hot-or-not scale. She tried to bring up his features in her mind, but it was no use. She just couldn’t get past how small and raw he’d made her feel. “I’ll have to take your word for it. Do you like working for him?”
Chris’s teasing expression faded as he considered the question. “Most of the time, yeah. I do. He can be rigid and rule-bound, but that’s pretty common in cops. I like that he’s consistent, easy to predict. Even if I know I’ve screwed up and am going to get my ass chewed, it’s better than not knowing how he’ll react. Make sense?”
After considering it for a moment, she said, “I can see that. I’m probably overreacting. He just kept looking at me like I was a bug he really wanted to squash.”
Laughing, Chris said, “We call it ‘going to confession.’ After a few minutes of Rob giving someone the eyeball, the suspect spills his guts about every bad thing he’s ever done, even admitting to shoplifting a pack of gum when he was nine.”
“I’d confess,” Daisy admitted with a shiver. Talking about the sheriff was souring her stomach, so she changed the subject as she hung her jump rope on its peg. “I think we’re warmed up, Yoda. What’s today’s lesson?”
His grin had a predatory cast that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. “Aggression drills.”
“Sounds…um, interesting?”
“It’s important. You’re smaller than most would-be attackers.”
“I’m not that small.” She scowled, although she couldn’t force much heat into it. She was too grateful to him for the way he treated her. During training, Chris always acted like she could walk out the door anytime she wished. He never mentioned the improbability of her having to face off with anyone besides him and maybe Lou. “Oh! I almost forgot. Lou was wondering if she could join us for training sometime. And someone named Ellie, too, although she needs to recover from a bullet to the chest first?”
