Chapter 5
When I woke up Sunday morning, I had made a decision.
I didn’t need a social life—or rather, I didn’t need more of a social life than I already had.
I had good friends. Indira was almost always around and happy to chat.
Keme came over all the time to play video games.
Fox dropped in regularly, nominally to work on their Secret Artistic Project that somehow involved Hemlock House, but mostly to shoot the breeze and pilfer Indira’s baked goods (no judgment—look who’s talking).
And Millie was here almost as often as Keme, although the rest of us were too polite to point out the coincidence.
Maybe, I thought as I dragged myself out of bed, Pike had put something in my drink last night.
I showered. I found a pair of joggers and a Mega Man tee.
I looked at the tallboy and the canopy bed and the mantel clock and that ginormous painting of a horse.
And because the thought of becoming my own best friend was absolutely horrifying, I found a pair of shoes and went to do some retail therapy.
When I got back, Deputy Bobby was sitting on the terrace.
He was in civvies—joggers and a plain but expensive-looking tee, which, to my eye, screamed West. Instead of parking in the coach house, I pulled the Jeep up to Hemlock House’s front door.
Then I got out, opened the back, and started unloading the stuff I’d bought.
“Want a hand?” Deputy Bobby asked.
“I got it.” I offered a smile. “Thanks.”
He followed me inside, and I carried everything upstairs and into my room.
Leaning in the doorway, Deputy Bobby watched me fumble with the horse painting for a few seconds. Then he came across the room and said, “You take that side.”
So, I did. And together, we got the painting down.
“How is it so heavy?” Deputy Bobby asked.
“The frame is solid gold.”
“Really?”
“No, of course not.”
That made him grin. We leaned the horse painting against the wall, and Deputy Bobby helped me hang the new one.
It had been one of my purchases in town—a lucky find at the farmer’s market.
It was oil on canvas, and it was a forest scene.
Where the trees ended, you could glimpse the ocean, and then a hint of a cute seaside town. Hastings Rock, of course.
“I know it’s not great art,” I said.
Deputy Bobby folded his arms and studied it.
“I know it doesn’t go with the rest of the furniture,” I said.
Downstairs, Indira was puttering around in the kitchen.
“I know Nathaniel Blackwood would be spinning in his grave if he knew how I felt about horse paintings.”
“I like it,” Deputy Bobby said. He glanced at me, and then back to the painting. “The horse was all wrong. This is right.”
Which was a very Deputy Bobby thing to say, I was starting to discover.
Because I had no idea how to respond to that, I finished unpacking my purchases.
I’d bought a plant (a golden pothos) in a cute ceramic pot, and I set that near the window.
I’d bought a stack of new books, and I displaced a porcelain cherub from the nightstand to make room for them.
I put a fluffy (non-skid) rug in the bathroom.
A big, bright pillow that clashed terribly with the damask wallpaper went on the bed.
Because sometimes a guy just wanted to read in bed, you know?
“I’m getting rid of that stupid clock,” I said. “I’m getting a clock from Radio Shack.”
“I thought Radio Shack went out of business.”
“And I’m putting a giant TV there. And if you say anything about it, I’ll fight you.”
That big, goofy grin broke out again, and Deputy Bobby held his hands up in surrender.
“Okay,” I said. “Thoughts?”
He was silent as he looked around at the changes. Yes, they were small. They were, technically, insignificant. They’d felt like such a big deal, and now, as the heat of the moment faded, they felt silly, childish, like I was playing house.
“This is your home,” Deputy Bobby said quietly. “It should feel like your home.”
And just like that, I was about to cry.
“How big of a TV?” he asked.
That helped, because instead of crying, I could pretend to be mad as I said, “Don’t worry about it.”
With a small smile, he produced something from his pocket. It was a plain envelope, and he handed it to me.
“What’s this?”
“You have to open it.”
That was Deputy Bobby in a nutshell.
I opened the envelope and stared at a map and punch card, both of them labeled Chocolate Chase 101.
“What are these?”
“I realize you’re new in town, and you’re looking for things to do.
And I also realize that maybe you don’t want to get dragged to bars or stuck at parties.
So, this is a complimentary tour of artisan chocolates, chocolate-based desserts, and hot chocolate.
You go to any of the places on the map, and you show them the punch card, and you get to try something. ”
My hand tightened around the envelope. My eyes felt hot again.
“I thought you might enjoy that more than being out-hiked by sixty-year-olds.”
Wiping my eyes, I managed to say, “In the first place, you were holding me back!”
Deputy Bobby grinned and made his way to the door and looked back. “It’s for you and a guest,” he said, and his tone, and his smile, and his eyes could have meant anything. “So, you can always take a friend.”