12. Tripp
Chapter 12
Tripp
“ Y our evidence, Sheriff Forester,” Ivy purrs, delicately placing the keys in my waiting palm. And damn if the way she uses such an official name for me isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I’d wear the uniform for her.
Closing my fingers around the cool metal, I smirk back at her. “I’m not sure if I should thank you or charge you for taking these in the first place,” I tease.
“You should definitely thank me.” She leans in her doorway, grinning and jutting her chin upward in confidence. It’s been like this since the moment she shared with me about New York and her dad—she’s seemingly more carefree. And it’s the best feeling being the one to lend an ear and getting to see her relaxed.
“I should, huh?” I take a step closer and peer down at her, need stirring within me. Her smile slips, her lips parting softly—those soft, pouty lips.
Ivy had surprised me when she nuzzled against me at the lighthouse. The more time we spend alone together, the more I find myself analyzing every look, every touch, every tension filled moment. Currently, I’m unable to tear my eyes from her mouth and unable to stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss her until we’re breathless.
“And keep me involved in the investigation.”
Her words pull me from my trance. “How do you imagine yourself being involved with me?”
“Any way you want,” she breathes.
Before I can control it, a low growl sounds in my throat. If it’s up to me, I’d take every way imaginable. And maybe this is my chance. I tilt closer, debating how to keep this going without promising her anything related to the investigation.
“I’ll be around the shop next week,” I decide on.
I had made an impulsive decision that night she was attacked. I ordered a security system to put up at her store. Leaving her with her friends was torture, and I laid in bed that night unable to sleep. I needed her to be safe, I needed to do something. And I certainly hadn’t asked Ivy about the idea before clicking buy in the middle of the night.
“You will be?” she asks, surprise in her voice.
“Sorry to disappoint, but you aren’t getting rid of me,” I echo her words from this morning.
Surely, I was overstepping with the security system. But I couldn’t seem to shake my fears for her. The idea of Ivy hiding under her desk, trapped and desperate, creates a combination of nausea and rage within me. And it’s enough that I can’t seem to put space between us this time. Nor do I think I want to anymore.
Turning the set of keys around my pen, I lean back in my desk chair and examine them closer. There is nothing remarkable about the first one. A typical silver key that could be cut at any hardware store, more than likely a house key. The second key, however, is a different story.
Flat and wide, the golden object is aged and tarnishing. The bow of the key is like a hollow three leaf clover with cuts at only the far end. It’s almost a skeleton key, if not simply a more modern version. And I recognize it immediately. Because I have one of my own in my pocket at this very moment.
It’s the key to the man gate down at the harbor.
Clearing a larger space on my desk, I lay out the printed copy of the Taylor’s guest list I made and turn to my computer, opening the dock permit register. If I can compare the lists to find who at the party also has a dock, then I can really start narrowing things down. I’ll finally have a suspect pool for the first time since the vandalism started.
Between a shift change and two trips out to the department kitchen for coffee, it takes a few hours for me to get through the list. It turns out, a lot of people in this town have a dock at the harbor, and more than twenty of them attended Wes’s party—including Jackson and Reid.
I feel my jaw jump at the thought of the lawyer. The way he laughed and bet money on how he’ll nail Ivy. Like being with her would be a game. Let it be him, it will give me a reason to finish what I started that night.
“Hey boss.” Millie appears in my doorway. “Any updates?”
As the first on the scene, she should be primary on this one. It’s a testament to our friendship that she’s letting me steamroll her and pull rank.
I motion for her to come in and slide the keys across my desk. “A few things are starting to shake out, yeah.”
Millie studies the harbor key. “Why does that look familiar to me?”
I withdraw my own keys from my pocket and dangle them in the air before me. “It’s the Foxport Harbor key. Whoever did this must have a dock.”
“I wonder if he also lives or works on the coastal edge of town then. It makes sense why he hit there the first few times.”
“I don’t know. If that is the case, why change from his comfort zone now?”
“He did leave that note, which I think was specifically intended for you,” Millie points out. “I think he changed locations to get at you.”
“I have nothing to do with the Brick District.”
Millie sighs, as if frustrated by my response, and sets her sights on the keychain next. “But you have everything to do with the Taylor family. And you confirmed that this is from their party, right?”
“Yeah, that’s definitely the favor Ruth gave out.” I slide the guest list over to her next, the paper speckled with highlighted names. “The yellow is guests that have a dock permit at the harbor.”
“In one day you narrowed it down from the whole town to like, what, twenty people? This is good.”
I run my hand along my jaw and sit back. It’s not good enough, yet. I need to make sure this guy is far from Ivy, stop the mayor from canceling the fall festival, and in a few days, stand in front of a town hall meeting and answer questions while giving nothing away.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Millie interrupts my spiral of doubt.
“What am I thinking?”
“That it’s not enough. This is personal for you, and you think you are letting her down. But she doesn’t think that. And this is good news.”
“No, I agree that this is solid progress. But it’s progress that is going to stay between you and I for right now,” I reply, standing and grabbing my jacket from the back of my chair. I drop the perp’s keys into my desk drawer and keep my own in hand. “And who is it that I think I am letting down?”
“We both know who I’m talking about. There has always been only one her in your life. Even when you tried to pretend you could make it work with other women. It’s always been Ivy.”
“What is this, relationship counseling?” I planned to leave, but her words have me rooted in place.
“I spend more time with you than with my wife, Forester,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Needless to say, I know you. And you carry yourself differently when you’re around Ivy, you always have.”
“I don’t think I do.” My words fall weakly between us, not much weight behind them.
“You deserve to be happy,” Millie replies with a smile.
“Yeah, well,” I start with a huff. “Tell Wes that.”
“Sure, it would be complicated at first. But if it’s what you want, you should do it.”
“Alright, well as fun as this pep talk has been, I’ve got plans with the guys,” I say, moving to the door. Then pausing, I sigh and add, “Thanks for the support.”
“Think the team is gonna cover?” Hayden asks, cracking open a beer and walking around his classic Corvette Stingray.
“We’d better,” Wes snorts.
I lean against the tool bench across from the TV, tipping back my own beer. Hayden’s got more money in this garage than I have in my house, and it is his favorite place to watch games.
“When do you take off again?” Hayden asks Wes as a commercial comes on.
“Don’t have anything planned,” he admits.
“They kick ya out?”
Wes replies with a middle finger as he grabs a slice of pizza from beside me and plants himself on a stool.
“Seriously, I’m looking for some type of an emergency medicine guy on the new rescue team. It’s yours if you’re interested.”
“I’ll think about it, thanks man.”
“Tripp, if you’re over this sheriff thing, I’d tag you as our coxswain.”
“Yeah, remember that one night we took Pops’s boat out and got caught in that storm,” Wes pipes up.
“We should have died that night.” I laugh with a nod.
“You handled that shit like a pro. You could do rescue operations.”
“Alright, if they boot me from office, I’ll sign on.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Hayden smirks, turning back to the TV as the game comes back on.
“Speaking of,” Wes mutters, leaning over. “Any updates on who went after my sister?”
“Not yet.”
Trying to ignore the way my body reacts to the mention of Ivy, I can’t help but wonder how she’s spending her night. My phone burns a hole in my pocket. I’m eager to text her, despite not having any reason in particular to do so. But now that I’ve started seeing her outside of Taylor family events, I need more. More time with her, more shared moments, more shared touches. I need more of her.
I reach for the pizza instead of my phone, watching the punter run onto the field. She’s Wes’s sister, I remind myself. Also, the victim in my current case. I have a number of reasons I need to get control of myself once again.
“Either way, thanks for helping V. I know you went above your job duties for her, driving her home and coming back around to help with clean up.”
Shrugging, I reply as honestly as I can without giving myself away. “Sure, I mean it’s Ivy.”