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REMI
Ishivered from the chill of the early morning air. As I walked from my apartment over Java Coffee, the brick-lined sidewalks were quiet. I passed a lone jogger and a dog walker, but for the most part, I was alone.
I’d gotten up earlier than usual to prepare for the Taste of Annapolis event. The shop owners were anticipating a larger than usual crowd, and I hoped I’d reach new customers who hadn’t realized there was a juice shop in town.
My morning ritual of yoga and meditation energized me while I ran through the list of things I needed to do to prepare for the day.
Passing the new yoga studio, I wondered if I should stop in later to see if the owner would be interested in selling my juice. Humming softly, I placed the key in the lock, but the door to my store fell open.
Had someone broken in? My heart thudded in my chest as the lightness gave way to fear.
I peered inside, to see one of the refrigerated cases was broken. Shards of glass and juice covered the tiles.
Was someone still there? The thought had me stepping back. I tried to calm my breathing, but it was impossible.
Panicked, I moved farther away from my store to dial 9-1-1. I relayed what I’d discovered to the dispatcher in a voice calmer than my internal turmoil.
“I’ve got a patrol car en route. They are two minutes out,” the no-nonsense voice of the dispatcher came over the line.
The hand that held my phone shook. “Thank you.”
“Do you see anyone inside?”
I shook my head before remembering she couldn’t see me. “I didn’t. The door was ajar. I pushed it open, saw the damage, and called 9-1-1.”
“That was the right thing to do.”
A patrol car pulled to the curb in the empty spot reserved as a loading zone for local stores and restaurants. The uniformed police officer stepped out, rounded his car, and headed straight for me.
My heart fluttered in my chest, this time, not from fear but anticipation.
“He’s here,” I said to the dispatcher, before ending the call.
Stalking toward me was Colton Castle. My big sister’s ex-boyfriend. High school sweethearts, he’d been the star of many of my teenage fantasies, but the grown-up version was different from my dreams.
He stopped in front of me, all bulk and broad shoulders. “Someone broke in?”
I licked my dry lips. “That’s what it looks like.”
“You go inside?” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
I knew if I said yes, he’d be pissed, and for some reason, I’d always cared what he thought of me.
Shaking my head, I gestured toward the entryway. “As soon as I realized what happened, I called 911.”
A second patrol car rolled down the street, parking behind his. The officer got out, his hand on his service weapon.
Colton held a hand up to me, his determined gaze on mine. “We’re going to check it out. Stay here.”
The sight of the other officer drawing his weapon had me taking a step back.
Normally, I’d make a snarky comment about not talking to me like I was a dog, but there was no way I was going anywhere near my store until they’d cleared it.
“We’ll talk about your lack of security in a minute,” he said over his shoulder as he passed me, his words clipped as he drew his weapon, and nodded to the other officer.
My stomach dropped. I didn’t have a security alarm. Colton had mentioned it when he’d approached me about the graffiti on the side of my building, claiming some kids were probably up to no good. I refused to believe him. I wanted to think it was a bored child who just wanted a space to create, not someone set on destroying local businesses. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
Colton and the second officer moved inside in a series of coordinated moves they’d probably done hundreds of times. Shoulders lowered, weapons drawn, moving stealthily through the store, stepping carefully over the spilled juice bottles and broken glass.
