“Yes, Chief,” I grumbled.
“And I wanna know if you get any other anonymous mail. Duncan Hugo is behind bars and Tate Dilton is in the ground, but that doesn’t mean we should let our guard down.”
“Fine. But can we at least agree not to say anything to anyone else? I don’t want Naomi and Lina worrying about nothing.”
“Nope.”
“Seriously?” Nash had a habit of dropping truth bombs.
“You’ve got twenty-four hours to tell them your own way. You don’t, then I will. It’s better for everyone to be in the know. I don’t want anyone taking any chances.”
“Okay. Now you’re starting to freak me out. It’s been months since Lina got abducted. You caught all the bad guys.”
“Not all of them,” he said evenly.
“Why would Anthony Hugo march into Knockemout to finish what his son started? And why focus on me? I had nothing to do with any of that. It doesn’t make any sense.” A creepy-crawly sensation prickled in my intestines as library life cheerfully bustled on around us.
“Until Anthony Hugo is behind bars, we can’t afford to rest easy.”
“Great. I’m definitely going to sleep like a baby tonight,” I said dryly.
“I’m just saying, I want you to be careful. Be vigilant. If anything strikes you as off, I want to know about it.”
“Fine. But that goes both ways. If something doesn’t smell right to you, I want to know.”
He studied me for a beat, then gave me a curt nod.
“Someone has a secret admirer,” Naomi announced. She marched up to us, lugging a case of sports drinks with a gigantic red bow.
I snatched the card out of her hand, my cheeks warming.
For later.
“Who’s that from?” Nash asked nosily.
“The card wasn’t signed,” Naomi said.
My face was the temperature of the surface of the sun as I stuffed the note in my pocket and grabbed the case. “Between the two of you, I’m starting to worry about my right to privacy,” I complained.
“She’s tomato red and deflecting,” Nash observed.
Naomi eyed me shrewdly. “My guess is it’s an inside joke gift from her date last week that she’s been annoyingly tight-lipped about.”
“Don’t you both have work to do?” I asked them.
“What’s this guy’s name and home address? What kind of car does he drive?” Nash demanded.
“Oh my God. You’re the worst. We went out. We had a nice time. It’s nothing serious. Thank you and good day.” I tried to dismiss them by taking my drinks and leaving.
But Naomi and Nash followed me.
“Are you going to see him again?” Naomi asked as we passed the reference section.
“Could he be the one who sent you the threat?” Nash added.
Naomi yelped. “Threat? What threat?”
I spun around and glared at him. “You said I had twenty-four hours!”
Nash grinned. “No time like the present. And you better update Angelina ASAP or she’ll be pissed.”
“You’re the worst.”
“Someone better tell me what’s going on immediately,” Naomi said, using her mom voice.
“Just for that, you’re carrying these upstairs to my office,” I said, shoving the case at Nash.
While the chief of police hauled my electrosexolytes upstairs, I filled Naomi in on the completely innocuous note.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. I get complaints all the time, and there’s always weird stuff in the book drop. But Nash wants us to be on guard given everything that’s happened in the past few months,” I explained.
“If Nash says we should be careful, that’s exactly what we should do,” Naomi insisted dutifully.
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Studly Do-Right wasn’t within earshot. “Him being worried makes me worry,” I confessed. “I’m concerned that he knows something he’s not sharing. Maybe something about Lucian and the FBI’s case.”
Naomi pursed her lips. “I’ll see what I can get out of Knox.”
“Good idea. I’ll talk to Lina and see if she can sexily wheedle anything out of Nash.”
Naomi cleared her throat pointedly.
“Fine! I’ll talk to her about sexy wheedling when I tell her about the dumb, not-very-threatening note,” I agreed. “Even though I’ve had more creative and specific threats from the lady behind the deli counter at Grover’s.”