Reno set the folded paper on the counter.
“I came by,” he said, “to tell you the brand of security camera I recommend. It’s not the most expensive model on the market, but it’s reliable and nigh indestructible. You don’t really need the bells and whistles of the higher cost models since you don’t have a computerized security system to hook it to. I wrote the name of the manufacturer and the model number down.”
Grace looked at the paper, surprised. “You came back just to give me a camera recommendation?”
“I did.”
“And you wrote it down?”
He hesitated for a moment as if he was choosing his next words carefully. “Saying it would have sounded as if I was telling you what to do. Writing it out and giving you a sheet of paper means you can take my suggestion or toss it in the trash, and you won’t offend me, either way.”
She picked up the paper.
It was the make and model of a wireless security camera with several installation notes written in a neat block print below it in black ink. At the bottom, in the same block print, were the words cheap and good.
“I appreciate it,” Grace said sincerely.
“My pleasure.” He looked at her in concern for a second. “Anything else weird happen around here?”
She considered him for a beat too long.
“What happened?” he demanded.
She didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it, but she also sensed he would push until he got her to tell him what had happened earlier. So, she sighed and told him about the man claiming to be from the water company and about her follow-up call to the county utility office.
He listened without interrupting as she relayed what Mary had told her and how they usually propped open the back door during the day with a brick. His face the same thing it had on Tuesday, when it shifted, very slightly, from the talking to a stranger mode he’d come in with to a more personal, more intimate, mode whose name she didn’t know.
His gaze remained locked on her the entire time she spoke. He didn’t show any reaction in his expression, nor did he write anything down. She got the distinct impression he was memorizing every word she said and would be able to recite them again, hours from now, word for exact word.
When she was done, he asked evenly, “Did you take the brick out of the back door?”
“That’s it, right there.” She pointed at the brick now holding open the door between the front room and kitchen.
“Is there a deadbolt on the back door?”
“Yes.”
“Use it.”
“I do whenever the shop’s closed. The fire marshal requires the deadbolt to be unlocked during business hours so people can escape through it in case of fi . . .” She broke off, shot Lily a quick look, and instead of the word fire corrected to, “In case of an emergency.”
She continued explaining, “The door locks automatically from the outside at all times, no matter if the deadbolt is unlocked or not. Unlocking the deadbolt only makes it possible to go out the back door from the inside.”
“Mm.” He said the syllable like Dillon, but higher up in his throat. Dillon’s Mm was lower, more skeptical in tone overall, but it was the same family word. Brief amusement at the Steele family quirk flashed through her.
“I might have overstepped, but I called a locksmith over in Apple Pie Creek. He’s coming here tomorrow to change the bakery’s locks.”
“Why?” Grace blurted.
“I’m eliminating possible means by which someone gained entrance to your establishment to leave that rosemary.” He sent her a surprisingly agonized look and said low, “Please. Humor me. It’s a little thing, and I’ll sleep better knowing you’re the only person with access to the bakery.”
He seemed genuinely concerned for her safety. Which was sweet of him, if entirely unnecessary.
“This is Cobbler Cove. Nothing bad ever happens around here.”
“Rose’s Diner was broken into at Christmas,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but that was just some kids causing trouble.”
