Page 47 of Sugar & Shadows

“Start lurking. Search the internet for what other small towns do that seem to have success. Even big towns. How do they promote festivals and events? How are they attracting tourists? How can we capture Vermont charm on socials?”

She scribbled furiously.

“Start saving content ideas. I’ll get permission.”

She beamed at me, looking so young and so innocent.

I surveyed her, awash in nostalgia. Her backpack was tattered and one strap was held together with duct tape, but her supplies were neat—stacks of binder and color-coded folders and a small pouch with a rainbow of highlighters.

“Single mom?” I guessed.

She nodded.

“Same.” I gestured to where my mom was sitting at the circulation desk. “Laurie raised me alone after my dad died. It was hard. But this place.” Sighing, I scanned the room. “It saved me. I came here every day after school. And I used the ancient computers to apply to colleges.”

Her shoulders sank. “I’ll probably have to do that too. I don’t have my own computer. My mom can’t afford it. But I’m gonna go to college. Far away from Vermont. I’m in all AP classes this year.”

A smile twitched at my lips. Of course she was.

Sitting across from her was like jumping back in time and spying on my teenage self. An adolescent full of angst and confusion and a healthy dose of just wanting to be understood.

I stood and gave her a smile, turning like I was going to walk away. But I stopped and spun back quickly, tapping my chin. “I guess I forgot to mention that the position comes with a laptop. It’s a necessity for what we need, after all.”

“Really?” She broke into a smile so bright it almost blinded me. “I can do so much more that way. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t.”

I’d made it three steps when I thought of one more thing.

“And a new iPhone.” I nodded at the old model with the cracked screen on the table. “You can’t edit TikTok content on that.”

“I don’t want charity,” she said firmly, crossing her arms, like she’d figured me out.

With two big steps, I returned to the table, then splayed my hands over the surface and gave her my most intimidating glare. One that once made the Finnish ambassador pee his pants before a UN hearing.

She didn’t flinch. Yeah, I knew I liked this kid.

“I don’t believe in charity,” I said coolly. “This is a job. Don’t fuck it up.”

She nodded once, contrite.

Satisfied, I walked back to my conference room. My team was taking shape.

Chapter 12

Gabe

The smell of coffee and burnt rubber hit me as I opened the door.

The Maplewood Police Station was a squat, lifeless building across from town hall. The lobby was outdated, but the place was mostly tidy. Nodding at the officers at their desks and Jenine, I shuffled to the large corkboard on one wall. It was plastered with layers of fliers, ranging from lost pet notices to offers of chainsaw sharpening and tarot reading.

The ever-present headache behind my eyes throbbed as I rolled my shoulders. Maybe I’d go home early. Maybe I’d actually sleep tonight. These days sleep wasn’t so much a biological function as it was a fugue state interrupted by spiraling thoughts. Some days I woke up dreaming of the moment I could go back to sleep that night.

Blowing out a breath, I headed over to the small break room and poured myself a cup of coffee. It was sludge at this point, but it would get the job done.

“A little late for caffeine, don’t you think?” Nolan appeared at my side, snagging a mug. He dumped the remainder of the coffee into it, then stared at me over the rim.

We’d been friends our whole lives. His dad, the original Chief Foster, used to help my dad on the farm during sugaring season. A burly guy with a thick mustache, he’d coached youth hockey and led drug and alcohol education seminars at the high school.