Caelyn’s gaze jumped around, anywhere but at me. “No. No nickname for you, sorry.”

She was lying, and now I was curious about what that nickname was.

Parker finally got his laughter under control. “I’ve been called a lot of things on the job, but I’m not sure Sheriff Hotstuff is one of them.”

Caelyn covered her face with her hands. “I’m never going to live this down.”

Parker knocked Caelyn’s arm with his. “Trust me, of all the things I’ve had happen on a call, this doesn’t even rate on the embarrassment radar.”

Caelyn’s hands fell away from her face. “Thank you.”

“All right,” Parker began. “Tell me what happened.”

Caelyn immediately sobered, a hint of fear entering her features. I had the sudden urge to pull her into my arms. To shield her from anything that would put that kind of look on her face. She glanced at the store and then looked back at Parker. “I was working my normal shift, and when I came out, I saw a piece of paper under my windshield wiper. I thought it was just a flyer or something. But it wasn’t.”

Parker pulled a pair of gloves out of his back pocket, along with a plastic bag. “Let’s take a look.” He snapped on the gloves and picked up the note, his jaw hardening as he read. Carefully, he slipped the paper into an evidence bag. “Any idea who would leave you a note like this?”

Caelyn’s face paled. “None at all. Do you think maybe someone put it on the wrong car? Or it’s just a sick prank?”

I didn’t think that someone who had gone to the trouble of writing a note like this would put it on the wrong vehicle. But I understood why Caelyn wanted to hope that it might be true.

“It’s possible…” Parker started. “But it’s probably unlikely. I’ll see if the bank’s security cameras caught anything, but I don’t think they reach quite this far. Has that guy come back to the store? The one you called me about before?”

“What guy?” I growled.

Caelyn flinched. “A man came into the store. Seemed like he was on something. Tweaking probably. When I told him we didn’t carry cigarettes, he took off.” She looked at Parker. “He hasn’t been back. And, honestly, I only called about him because another customer was freaked. She wanted me to call the sheriff’s department and let them know.”

“She was right to have you call me,” Parker said.

All I could think about was some guy jonesing for his next high, skulking around The General Store. Worse, he could’ve been casing the place for money to pay for that next fix. I turned to Parker. “You have officers doing drive-bys?”