“It’s perfect. Just perfect,” she returned. “I was with her when she was looking at it. She’ll love it, Skip,” she paused and then almost quivered with her now escaping enthusiasm. “Okay, so when? Christmas Eve or Christmas Day?”
“Christmas morning probably,” he said with a nod then gave her a half shrug. “That’s the plan, anyway… If I can wait that long… I know it’s only three days away, but… Well, you know… I’ve already been putting it off for so long as it is, what with her wanting to finish her degree and all… I talked to her dad yesterday, so at least that part of it is out of the way.”
“What did he say?”
Skip tensed and deepened his voice for effect. “‘Bout time, son. Just remember, deputy or not, if you hurt my little girl I’ll hunt you down and kill you.”
“That sounds like him,” Clovis replied. “Was he smiling?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’re fine.”
He nodded and chuckled. “I know.”
“Okay, so explain to me why it is I’m just now hearing about this,” she pressed.
“That should be obvious,” he answered, shrugging. “You’re her best friend. I want it to be a surprise.”
She pouted an objection. “I can keep a secret.”
“You mean like the time you told her about the surprise birthday party I had planned for her?”
“We were in high school, Skip,” she grumbled.
“I’m talking about last year.”
“Oh… That… Well… That was different.”
“Different how?”
“It just was. Really… I can keep a secret.”
“Yeah… Do yourself a favor and don’t swear to that under oath or anything. Some of us know better.”
“Who’s the comedian now?”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny. Honestly, I wouldn’t even have told you about this at all, except that I wanted your opinion on the ring. I’m taking a big enough chance telling you now as it is. You’ve got a whole three days to spill it and ruin everything.”
She ignored the gibe. “You know if you’d just said something I could have gone shopping with you.”
“What was I just saying, Clovis? Are you not even listening to me?”
She rolled her eyes at him then ogled the engagement ring again.
“I won’t tell her,” she assured him.
“You’d better not. Besides,” he added. “It looks like I picked out the right one without your help anyway.”
“Sure, but how long did it take you to decide before you actually bought it?” she asked.
“That’s not the point.”
She chuckled. “It doesn’t matter, it’s beautiful, Skip. You did real good. Kathy is going to be so happy…” After a moment she furrowed her brow again and looked up at him. Visible confusion spreading across her features, she said, “Wait… You’ve always said you weren’t going to ask her until…”
He nodded as her voice trailed off. “Yeah, I know. That’s the other thing. I got the call last week.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh. I start the academy in KC with the next class. Just a few months from now. And I should have a job waiting for me when I graduate.”
“Oh my gosh, Skip! That’s fantastic! Congratulations! Does Sheriff Morton know?”
A gruff voice came from across the room behind her. “Do I know what?”
Clovis swiveled her chair and glanced over her shoulder at the sheriff, who was several feet away and in the process of emptying the dregs from a drip coffeemaker carafe into his stained ceramic cup. She twisted quickly back around and shot a wide-eyed gaze toward Deputy Carmichael as she mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“KC, Boss,” Skip announced, shaking his head and grinning. Then he addressed Clovis directly. “Don’t worry, he’s known ever since I got the call. He was the first one I told. After all, it was him that got me accepted in the first place.”
“Bullshit,” the sheriff huffed, ambling over to the side of the desk. He took a sip of the coffee, screwed up his face, then swallowed with an even deeper grimace while shaking his head. “Christ… How old is this sludge?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s leftover from this morning,” Clovis replied.
“No wonder,” he sighed. Without hesitation he leaned toward the poinsettia on the corner of her desk and dumped the remaining contents of the cup into it.
“You know you’ve killed two of those already this month by doing that,” Clovis announced.
“Better them than me,” he replied then held the now empty mug with his middle fingers hooked through the handle as he nodded toward Skip. “You got your own damn self into the academy. I just made a couple of calls to warn ‘em that you’d probably be a pain in the ass to them just like you are to me. But since you got in anyway, it looks like they didn’t much care what I thought, now did they?”
Skip chuckled. “Whatever you say, Boss.”
The sheriff shot him a quick and wholly uncharacteristic grin. Since Archie Morton wore an almost perpetual poker face to go along with his dry wit, any visible show of emotion in his expression was more than enough to give his staff pause.
“Needed doin’. You’re just wastin’ your talent here, son,” Morton offered. “That much was obvious as soon as you got your head on straight and started using your powers for something other than winning bar bets.”
“Powers,” Skip repeated with an embarrassed chuckle. “You make it sound like something from a comic book.”
“Whatever you want to call it,” Morton continued. “You and that scary accurate instinct of yours would better serve a police force that has actual crimes to solve, and we both know this isn’t it. Hulis is where old cops go to relax when they’re too tired to chase the bad guys anymore. Hell, that’s why I came back.”
Skip waited a beat for another dry wisecrack to be tacked onto the end of the statement. Just as Sheriff Morton’s expression remained virtually constant, praise was not something he offered on a regular basis either, especially not without something diametrically opposed thrown in to temper it. Given that he’d now given him two compliments in a row, surely there was a dig coming in their wake.
However, when several seconds had passed with no further comment, the deputy raised an eyebrow and said, “Uh… Thanks, Boss.”
“Yeah, well don’t let it go to your head. You might be ‘The Amazing’ Skip here in Hulis, but when you get to KC there’ll be some sonofabitch who’s even more special than you are, trust me.”
The sheriff looked around and then let out a snort. “Now, shouldn’t you be workin’ or somethin’?” He offered the words as a statement more than as a question. “You ain’t off to the big city yet, you know.”
“I’m in early. I’m not scheduled for duty until five.”
“Yeah, so what? You’re here aren’t you?”
“True.”
“Well then don’t just stand around looking for more compliments. You just got your quota for the year and then some. Make yourself busy. Put on a fresh pot of coffee or something…”
Now that sounded more like what he had been expecting. Skip started to offer a quick, “right on it, boss,” but before he could speak the aforementioned instinct kicked in. In truth, it was really just a keen awareness of his surroundings combined with a good memory, but instinct was as good a word as any. The semantics weren’t all that important.
Skip cocked his head and announced, “Phone’s about to ring.”
A half-heartbeat later, the first pushbutton along the bottom of Clovis’s telephone began to flash, and then the loud mechanical ringer itself jangled for attention.
Even though she’d been warned, or perhaps because of that very fact, Clovis physically jumped in her seat at the first ping of the sound. She then shuddered as she started reaching toward the device. “Darn it, Skip! You know it creeps me out when you do that. Now I’m all jittery.”
He shrugged to punctuate the fact that he considered the feat to be wholly unremarkable. Jerking a thumb toward a nearby door he explained, “The junction box over here in the closet clicks twice just a couple of seconds before the phone rings. It always has.”