"If it isn't Mitch," the Sheriff said quietly. "I'm attending a church group, what does it look like?"
Tuck, who was barely holding it together, shot Much a Look. A 'please be very careful, my very mortal parishioners are here' look. "He has informed us he's going to be here for every service and meeting we have."
The sheriff smiled sweetly, keeping up the charade outwardly. "I might just pop by every day. Maybe even to the parsonage, like the rest of your parishioners do!"
If not even his home was safe, what the hell was Tuck supposed to do?