I looked at Bennet and he looked back, coolly, nonchalantly. “What? It’s not like it’s a big deal, you know. I mean—Jesus. You’d think the town has never called on me before.”
I glanced at his badge, which had been buffed to a spirited shine, and his pressed Khakis; at his glossy black belt and shoes. “Oh, I just thought you might be anxious, that’s all. I reckon I should have known.”
I returned my attention to the clipboard, which I’d braced against the wheel. “I’m sure Mollie will ensure everything goes to spec. I mean, she runs a tight ship, Mollie. A tight, fine—”
“Look, I don’t want to hear about her tight, fine ship, all right?” He glanced at the roses on the dash—a subtle accusation. “I just want to get through this. And—and to assure Sandy Chain we’re on duty. Both of us. Still.
