“I’ll help.” Rory moved to do just that.
She waved a hand in the air. “Nope, I’ve got it. Thank you for dinner.” It was as polite a dismissal as she could muster.
He eyed her and then slowly nodded. “All right, I’ll go. But New Year’s Eve is coming up, and that is your deadline.”
She rolled her eyes. “There’s no more deadline, Rory. I’ll go to the ball with you, but that’s it. We’ll show everybody we’re friends so people stop asking, and then we’ll go our separate ways.”
“I’m not agreeing to that.” He leaned over and placed a quick peck on her cheek, sending warmth through her entire body. His grin was wicked. “And neither are you.”
He returned to the alcove and put on his boots and coat before opening the door. Then he stopped short. His entire body visibly stiffened.
A chill clacked through her. “Rory?”
He slowly slid to the side to reveal a bouquet of wilted, worn, and what looked like burnt daisies.
Chapter5
Serenity had known Sheriff Franco her entire life. In fact, he’d coached her second, fourth, and ninth-grade softball teams. He looked every bit the country sheriff with his thick white hair, intelligent blue eyes, and cowboy body. He appeared around sixty until you stared at his eyes, then he seemed about a hundred and ninety.
She thought he was somewhere in his seventies, but she actually wasn’t sure. As far as she was concerned, he’d been old since the day she met him in kindergarten.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked quietly.
She shifted her weight on the chair, acutely aware of Rory behind her. The man let off tension and heat that filtered through the room and flashed across her skin.
“I didn’t think anything serious was going on,” she said easily. “I thought somebody had a crush. I don’t know.”
“These flowers are burnt.” The sheriff gestured to the horrendous bouquet on the corner of his desk.
“Yeah.” She tried to keep her voice level. “This does seem to take it to a new level.” Her nerves ignited. Her senses were heightened, and she fought to control the rising panic inside her. “It could still be a weird crush.” Her words rang hollow, even to her ears.
“That’s no crush,” Rory muttered behind her.
“It’s a threat,” the sheriff stated.
“Agreed,” Rory muttered. “Obviously, you ticked somebody off.”
She looked over her shoulder. “I didn’t do anything to anybody…I don’t think.”
“Of course, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Fire lanced in Rory’s eyes. “However, you were only receiving one flower, once in a while, until I returned.” She’d told him the entire story on the way to the police station.
The sheriff leaned forward and sniffed the daisies. His grizzly eyebrows rose.
“Affirmative,” Rory said. “They’re freshly burned.”
“Explain.” Sheriff Franco visibly zeroed his intimidating focus on Rory, over Serenity’s head.
“I took dinner to Serenity’s. I think somebody was bringing her a bouquet and saw me there, became angry, and burned the flowers in response.” Rory jerked his head toward the sad floral remains.
The sheriff’s jaw tightened, and his expression softened as it landed on Serenity again. “I would take this seriously.”
She took a deep breath and sat back, looking away and trying to focus on something, anything, except the sudden fear ticking through her. She looked at the pictures of the sheriff’s softball team and his grandkids, trying to ignore the wide window facing the blistering storm outside. It had picked up as Rory and she had driven into town to see the sheriff.
“Have you noticed anything odd lately?” Sheriff Franco asked.
“Nothing except for the flowers and phone calls.” She tried to think back over the last couple of weeks. Nobody seemed to be following her or even lurking in the store. In fact, she hadn’t seen a stranger in weeks. It was the dead of winter in Silverville, and the tourists were all skiing or snowmobiling, not shopping for hammers.
Rory’s phone buzzed behind her, and she ignored him.
