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“Okay,” George said. “Then who?”
Vince opened his mouth to say something, and the entire Burney police force—twelve people—must have flashed before his eyes.
“We could hire somebody from the outside,” George went on. “There are a couple of people on the county force that the sheriff isn’t too pleased with right now. They’d probably go for it.”
I sat back, trying not to laugh. George wasn’t great at manipulation, but he was getting there. “The blond guy seemed nice,” I said.
“Really,” Vince said to George. “You’re going that low.”
“I need you,” George said.
He could have gone on and listed all the reasons why it had to be Vince, who had been pretty much running the department since Bartlett had been foisted on them, but he just left it at that: He needed Vince to run the police department to keep the town safe.
Vince closed his eyes. “Hell.”
“Look on the bright side,” Anemone cooed at him. “There’s a pay raise. You can afford to get married.” She gave him a very pointed look, and I began to wonder what else she’d been planning.
“Wait a minute,” I said, but Vince stood up and said, “Come with me. I have something to show you.”
I should never have let Anemone move to Burney.
* * *
Vince ledme around to the other side of the bar, to semi-privacy.
“I have . . . something . . . for you,” he said, sounding nervous. “I know we haven’t talked much . . .”
“We’refine,” I told him as he put his hand in his jacket, thinkingnot a ring, not a ring, not a ring.I am not the kind of woman who gets married. Hell, Vince isn’t the kind of guy who gets married.Not a ring, not a ring, not a ring—
And he pulled out a floppy package, about five by seven, and I knew what it was, and it wasn’t a ring.
And I felt this terrible sense of loss, I wasdisappointedthat it wasn’t a ring,so it was the mind over matter thing again, or maybe ego and id. I consciously do not want to get married, ever, it’s a trap, my God, what if I’d stayed in town and married Cash? Absolutely no on marriage . . .
But oh, damn, I was disappointed. Deep inside,I wanted Vince Cooper’s ring. I wanted the idea of a ring. I wanted him to say, “This is forever” in jewelry shorthand. And I don’t even like rings.
I’m insane.
“Open it,” he said, his voice sounding strangled.
I smiled brightly at him. “I can never have too many t-shirts.” I tore open the wrapping to find a very nice white tee. “White? You know I’m going to get ketchup all over this.”
“I know,” Vince said.
So, I unfolded it to see whatever insane message it had on the front, grinning at him to show how thrilled I was to have a new t-shirt. Really, I wasfine. Then I shook it out and held it up.
It had a cartoon of a diamond ring on it. A big sucker.
I let it drop enough to see Vince’s face.
“I know you don’t want to get married,” he said, talking fast. “So I figured we could just be engaged for the next thousand years.”
I swallowed hard. He’d gotten me a ring after all. A t-shirt ring.
Aperfectring.
This man knows me.
“I love you, Liz,” he said. “So much. Please marry me. In about a thousand years.”
