The Feel Good Factor(25)

But that’s life. Sometimes you have to compete against a friend, I tell myself as I stroll past the yarn shop. I pop inside to pick up another ball of merino wool and stop short when I see Jansen at the counter, his arms snaked around his wife and his lips planted on her cheek. I avert my gaze, but she calls out to me.

“Hey, crafty lady. I still have your yarn.”

I look up and smile like I didn’t just see them practicing. “Oh, thanks. Just need to get cracking on some new patterns.”

She waves me over, and Jansen barks out a greeting. “Evening, Officer Keating.”

“Evening, Chief.”

“What are you making?” he asks.

His wife nudges him. “She’s going to make you a new pink hat, Jeff. Now don’t be so nosy.”

I laugh. “It’s okay. I don’t mind sharing. I found an adorable sweater pattern, but I’m not sure who I’m going to make it for. But I find the routine of knitting helps me unwind.”

“That’s good. Personally, I like to do jigsaw puzzles,” Jansen puts in. “That helps me let go of the unsolved mysteries at the end of the day. Like who broke into the jewelry store off Main Street the other month.”

I frown. “I know. Me too. I wish we had more leads.”

“So do I.”

“Trust me, we all wish we knew what went on there,” Theresa says. The jewelry store theft is one of the few “high profile” crimes we’ve had to deal with recently in Lucky Falls.

“We’ll get to the bottom of it. I’m confident of that,” Jansen says, then fastens on a smile. “But I also want to know why so many damn people are speeding on Hollowstone Road.”

That sparks an idea. Jansen did say the other day that he appreciated my willingness to do grunt work and pick up traffic duty without grumbling. “Want me to run traffic duty there this weekend?”

“That’d be great. Especially since some of them are likely to be DUIs. Let’s get ’em off the road.”

“I’ll do it, sir,” I say, deciding to ignore the dollop of guilt. I’m not taking anything away from Elias. I’m simply competing in the way that I have to. I’m doing my best to go above and beyond.

I take my yarn and head down the block to Helen’s Diner, where I happen to know my trouble-making brother usually goes when he’s done with work.

True to form, he’s parked in his regular booth by the window, digging into his favorite roast beef sandwich. I rap hard on the glass.

He looks up, and I bug out my eyes and point at him. You’re in so much trouble, I mouth, then head inside, march over to him, and push his shoulder. “What were you thinking?”

He stares at me, chewing slowly on the sourdough. “I was thinking how tasty this sandwich is.”

“What on earth were you thinking, inviting that man to rent my room? I’m going to wrestle you and take you down to the ground right now.”

“Just sit and have a soda, Meryl Streep.”

I sit across from him, staring. “I’m not being dramatic.”

“Seriously, what is the problem? I thought we worked it all out.”

“Listen, no joking, no teasing.” I scan the joint for anyone in earshot, then whisper, “You know that guy is one hundred percent my type, and yet you asked him to live with me?”

“That’s what you wanted me to do. Plus, you already made out with him.” He shivers like the thought of me making out gives him the willies.

“Shaw, what have you known about me and men my whole life?”

“That . . . you haven’t dated in a while?”

“Hello? Tattoos, ink, tall, dark, and handsome, bad boy. It’s that simple. It’s my temptation.”

“You’re not going to go to the bone zone, so what difference does it make?”

“You couldn’t have found some nice, quiet, skinny accountant who drives a Subaru and spends nights with his calculator?”

Shaw cracks up. “You’re never satisfied.”

I slump down. “I appreciate you doing it, and Derek and I have sorted it out. But it’s honestly one of the most insane things you’ve ever done.”

“Some might say it’s one of the most helpful.”

“I’d have thought you knew better than to put me in that situation.”

“And what situation did I put you in? Something where you can’t handle your own hormones? You’re a big girl. You’re one hundred percent capable of keeping them in check.”

The bell above the door rings, and Vanessa strides in. Shaw whips his head around, and I swear something changes in his dark eyes. Before she can reach us, I hiss, “Don’t even think about it.”

“About what?”

“Are you thinking of making a play for one of my best friends? You do know she is precious to me. And I don’t want you and your ladies’ man attitude anywhere near her.”

He jerks his gaze back to me. “I’ve known her since she was six.”

“And you will keep your playboy paws off her. She’s like a sister to me. Which makes her like your sister.”

He scoffs. “You do know she has her own sister? Also, I definitely don’t think of Vanessa as our sister.”

I don’t even want to know how he thinks of her.