“Clancey isn’t on social media,” she said, discouraged that he thought of his assistant as a kid. She was almost desperate to keep him away from Grace. “I don’t think she even owns a computer.”

“She uses ours at work.”

“That’s right, at work. She isn’t the type who’d use work resources for personal pleasure.”

“And how would you know that?” he asked.

“She goes to my church.”

That was news. He knew next to nothing about Clancey’s personal life. He didn’t want to know. She was unsettling enough in a business sense. But he wasn’t surprised that she went to church. She was mostly quiet and conscientious, she dressed conservatively, she never cussed. In fact, he’d never heard her say a bad thing about anybody, except the man who’d tried to grope her in her own office—the one who accidentally shot himself in the foot.

He laughed suddenly.

“What is it?” his sister wanted to know.

“I was thinking about the guy who groped Clancey in the office and got shot in the foot, accidentally.”

She grimaced. “She should have had him arrested and prosecuted,” she said hotly. “Honestly, what sort of man would do a thing like that in a public office?”

“He got shot,” he reminded her.

“Pity he didn’t hit anything worse than his own toe,” she muttered.

He was surprised at her vehemence. She wasn’t usually so passionate about things.

She caught that expression. “You’re not a woman, so you wouldn’t understand,” she said after a minute. “Men can be frightening when they’re aggressive. I don’t know Clancey well, but I overheard our minister say something to her after services one day, something about not all men being animals. That was even before she got groped on the job.”

He frowned. The wording was unusual. He’d heard the terminology many times over his years in law enforcement, usually in conjunction with charges of rape or assault involving women. Now he was curious. What had happened to Clancey to provoke such a comment from her pastor?

Not that it was any of his business. She did a fairly good job and she was useful. Past that, he never noticed her.

“When is Grace coming here?” he asked.

“Next month,” she said. She grinned. “She asked if you were still as straitlaced as you used to be.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her you were even worse than you used to be.”

“Gee, thanks,” he teased.

She chuckled. “She said she approved.” She picked up her big purse from the floor and pulled out a bill. “My turn to pay. You can do it next time,” she added.

He put his wallet back up. “Okay. Fair enough. Thanks.”