“I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t done this before.”
“And I have? Did I give birth and not realize it?”
&nbs
p; I frowned. Had I imagined the catch in her voice on that last bit? “You’ve done a lot of babysitting.”
“I’m sure you babysat Mason.”
“Not until he was fully ambulatory and didn’t consider his thumb a food group.”
She shook her head and curled up in her corner of the couch once again. “What are you going to do about work?” she asked quietly, not meeting my gaze. She probably knew full well I hadn’t considered that yet.
I picked up the envelope from the basket and returned to my chair. Since I wasn’t in the mood for any more revelations right now, I tucked it in my pocket beside the note I’d found earlier. “I’m not ready to tell the whole town.”
“I’m not talking about the whole town. But you need to tell the people you trust at work, so you can make arrangements to miss shifts or reschedule them when necessary.”
“I can’t miss shifts, I’m the damn sheriff.” Gina pressed her hand downward to remind me to lower my voice. “I took a vow to the Cove, and it’s moving into one of our busiest tourist seasons.” I blew out a breath. “I’m not going to leave anyone in the lurch.”
“The Cove isn’t exactly New York City,” she said drily. “Pretty sure you taking a few hours off here and there to watch your daughter won’t make the murder rate skyrocket.”
“What murder rate?” I couldn’t keep the indignation out of my question. “We haven’t had a homicide in this county since 1989 when Joe Richie shot his girlfriend for—”
“Cheating on him with the mailman, after he came in and found them boinking on the washing machine. Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard the story a million times.” She snorted. “I wonder if their rocking action got the clothes any cleaner before she bought it?”
I did not smile. “They were not on the washing machine. Try the stove.”
“Are you sure?”
I folded my arms. “Considering I am the one with access to official documents you and your fellow gossip hounds are not privy to, yes, I am sure.”
“Save me from your holier than thou lawman spiel. Washing machine is better for local flavor, but anyway, thirty plus years ago, champ. Think you can skip out early some days and not risk public safety. Oh! I’ve got it.” She snapped her fingers. “What about one of those cloth snuggie things you hook around your neck? You could get one of those and work with her on your chest. Or bring a playpen to the station. You know, like bring your daughter to work day, except all the time.”
I wanted to cover my ears, but that would not make her stop talking. She’d just get louder and then possibly wake the baby. “I cannot wear a snuggie or whatever it’s called to work. I’m a duly sworn officer of the law. I might have to handle dangerous—stop laughing. Just stop it right now.”
She rocked back and forth and buried her face in her hands as she tried unsuccessfully to quiet her laughter. Maybe she wasn’t even trying. She was having a fine time at my expense, and I couldn’t even be that annoyed because I knew she was just yanking my chain.
And she was still here. Still being my best friend. So, I supposed I could handle a little chain-pulling. Which I could dish out just as well.
“You know, maybe we could get matching ones? I’m sure they have sets. You could wear it at the diner. Think of all the tips you’d get toting around a cute baby.”
Her laughter ceased as if it had never been. And when she dropped her hands, her eyes seemed wounded. “She’s not mine, Jared. She’s yours.”
“I know that. I was just kidding.”
“No, I’m not sure you do know that.” She stood and walked stiffly to the kitchen.
I tossed another glance at the still-snoozing baby—thank God—and followed.
This time, Gina had bypassed the sink to stick her head in my refrigerator. She emerged with a package of fully cooked bacon, which she began readying for the microwave.
It was late, but I knew very well her penchant for eating while she was upset—it didn’t matter if it was eleven at night or noon. She was obviously very on edge, even if I wasn’t sure of all the reasons why.
I waited until she’d plated the bacon to speak, though I wasn’t sure I could talk reasonably without ripping the plate out of her hand. Naturally, she hadn’t offered me any.
Make a baby with a random woman, no bacon for you.
But before I could say anything, Sadie trotted in, lured by the scent of bacon. Earlier, she’d been lured by the scent of baby, but we’d managed to keep her out of the living room through an assortment of tactics from tossing her most-loved toys to plying her with her favorite treats. I didn’t know if that would work again after Gina gave her bacon.