“I’m honored that you came to me,” I said.
Nash got that funny, sheepish look on his handsome face again.
I planted my hands on my hips. “What?”
He winced. “I tried to get Stef, but Knox got to him first. No offense.”
“None taken. Stef would have been my first choice too. So what did you get Lina?”
Nash looked over his shoulder. I did the same. In Knockemout, the gossip ran fast and loose. If the wrong set of ears overheard us, Lina would know what her gift was before Nash left the library.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and opened his photos. “These.”
I took the phone from him and enlarged the picture of a pair of very sexy cowboy boots. “Shoes. Nicely done, Chief. You’re definitely getting laid tonight.”
Nash blew out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“Now, what else can I do for you?”
“I’d like to book one of the conference rooms for some trainings over the next couple of weeks.”
“Sure. What kind of trainings?” I asked.
“Autism awareness for first responders. We’re starting off with my cops, then moving to fire, medical, and social workers. Figured the library would be a friendlier setting than the station.”
Nash had been working his well-defined butt off on this initiative since the fall. The whole town had turned out for his BBQ fundraiser that earned enough to equip every first responder vehicle with noise-canceling headphones and weighted wearables. “Good for you, Chief. I’m proud of you.”
Nash looked good and embarrassed. “Thanks, Sloaney.”
“Sloane, sorry to interrupt. But I found something in the book drop,” Jamal said, joining us.
I groaned. “Don’t even tell me it’s another squirrel.”
“No, not this time, thank God. My lunch was still intact. It was this.” He handed over a plain, white business envelope. “Probably one of the older folks mistook it for a mailbox.”
My name was written in neat block letters across the back. We had seen our share of interesting items in the book drop. School books with homework stuffed in them, gloves, a retainer, a mangled loaf of bread that was supposed to feed the ducks in the park until little Boo Walkerson decided the book drop looked hungrier.
“Thanks, Jamal,” I said, opening the envelope with my thumb. “Hey, can you let Belinda and her friends know that Cecelia won’t be here for a few more hours? They don’t have to reserve their seats yet.” I nodded to the crew of feisty, elderly readers who were claiming all the seats in the first two rows with whatever they could find in their oversize purses.
“Sure thing,” he said and scampered off.
I unfolded the paper and frowned.
“Love letter?” Nash teased, peering over my shoulder. We both tensed at the same time. “What the hell?” He snatched it out of my hand.
I reached for it. “Excuse me, Chief Grabby Hands. That’s mine.”
Gone was the easygoing, lovestruck man worried about impressing his woman with footwear. In his place was a stone-faced cop who was definitely going to take this way too seriously.
“Is someone threatening you?” Nash demanded, rereading the note. It was written in the same block script as my name on the envelope.
Stop now before someone gets hurt.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I insisted. “Someone probably got their panties in a bunch over late fees.”
“Have you had any issues with anyone lately? Besides Lucian,” Nash asked.
Lucian. What if the note was from one of his former dicknotized lovers?
“Ha. Funny. Nothing out of the ordinary. I’m sure it’s nothing,” I insisted.
Nash held the note out of my reach. “All the same, a lot of my people found themselves in trouble these past few months. I’m not taking any chances. And I’m not letting you either.”
“Nash, it’s a note. A not very threatening one at that. What are you going to do? Fingerprint it and then run a handwriting analysis?”
Knockemout PD didn’t have a big-city budget.
“I’m gonna at least follow procedure,” he said stubbornly. “When was the book drop bin last emptied?”
I shoved my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “It’s supposed to be done before closing and midmorning. But we were busy with the setup today, so not since last night.”
“I’ll check the exterior cameras, see if we have a good angle,” Nash said. “In the meantime, give a thought to anyone who might be extra pissed at you lately.”