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Because I knew Sawyer wasn’t likely to want a beer, I automatically filled a glass with the root beer he preferred. As I set it in front of him, I wondered what it was like to love someone so much that their loss absolutely broke you. Gabi, with her miraculous romanticism, would no doubt find it terribly swoon-worthy. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to feel that deeply. That kind of love opened you up to the potential for incredible loss. I had no desire to give anyone that kind of power over me.
The front door opened, and I glanced automatically, mentally measuring the size of the party against the available tables. But my brain short-circuited as I spotted Hoyt striding in, dressed in his uniform of cargo pants and a navy SFFD T-shirt. He’d shaved the scruff for work, so there was nothing hiding the view of that strong jaw. My traitorous heart lurched with a nauseating combination of joy and dread. I’d promised myself that when I saw him again, I’d talk to him about why this whole relationship thing—be it fake or otherwise—was a terrible idea.
But I wasn’t ready yet. I hadn’t thought I’d need to have this conversation until dinner tomorrow.
Then I registered he wasn’t alone. The fire chief, Michael Thompson, was with him. So maybe they were here for dinner for a work thing?
Hoyt caught my eye and flashed a smile that seemed a little strained around the edges. When they headed in my direction, my palms went damp. Everything about the two of them shouted “Bad news!”
My brain frantically ran through what the problem might be. During shifts, my phone stayed in my locker, so if anyone had tried to reach me about an emergency with one of my siblings, they’d have had to call the tavern directly. I hadn’t heard the phone ring, and nobody had come to get me. But the fire department frequently took medical calls on the island, so what if this was them coming to notify me in person?
Hoyt stopped at the edge of the bar. “Hey, Caroline.”
I surreptitiously wiped my hands on a bar towel, then kept it in my hands to squeeze as the anxiety cranked up to eleven. “Hey. What’s going on? Is everything okay? Is it Gabi? Rios?”
He lifted his hands, palms out. “Shit. No. We didn’t mean to worry you. Nobody’s hurt.”
I loosed a breath. That was something. But then, why were they here?
“We just need to ask you some questions,” Chief Thompson added.
Questions? About what? If the chief was here, this was something in an official capacity. The anxiety came roaring back as I tried to imagine what any of this had to do with me.
From his perch at the bar, I sensed Sawyer tense, waiting for action himself.
Chief Thompson’s eyes were kind. “We can tell you’re busy. We can wait for a little bit, but the questions we have shouldn’t take too long if you can find a stopping point.”
“I…” I looked at the tray of waiting drinks. “Just a minute.” I flagged down Tracy, one of the other servers on shift. “Can you take this out to table twelve?”
“Sure.”
I tried to ignore her look of blatant curiosity as she lifted the tray and headed out.
Ed closed in from the other end of the bar. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing bad. We just need to have a few words with Caroline.”
What did it mean that Hoyt was no longer talking?
“Y’all can take it back to the office for some privacy,” Ed offered.
Bless the man. I squeezed his arm in gratitude as I led the two firefighters through the kitchen door, away from prying eyes. The office was a tiny, square room, with barely enough space for a battered metal desk and a couple of chairs. By the time we crowded inside, the nerves were strong enough to make me shake.
“Go on and have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” Chief Thompson’s words and tone were kind, but I recognized an order when I heard one.
Because there wasn’t anywhere else to go, I circled behind the desk and dropped into the rolling office chair. It gave a resounding squeak of protest and tipped back so fast I nearly got thrown into the wall. With a yelp, I grabbed onto the desk to steady myself.
Hoyt flashed a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring. “Looks like Ed needs to get some new office furniture.”
“We don’t spend much time in here, as a rule. What’s going on?”
Chief Thompson took the only other chair. “Were you at 1487 Sandpiper Road earlier today?”
I blinked. “Yeah. I do cleaning for Shoreline Rentals. I was turning it over for the next round of guests coming in today. Why? What happened?” Except I knew. Because why else would the fire department be here in an official capacity?
“There was a fire there this afternoon.”
“Oh, my God. Was anyone hurt?” I tried to think what time the renters were meant to be coming in.
