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“We’ve pulled down the tape and packed up,” Sheriff Blackstone says. “If you have someone who can clean the wall, go ahead and call them in.” She hands me a slip of paper. “The case number is here.” She points at the page with her pen. “If anything else comes up, anything out of the ordinary, call the station. Even if it seems unrelated, chances are it isn’t.”
My vision blurs as I stare down at the paper. One memory at a time, I sift through my thoughts. Look for anything out of place. Other than the recent construction, there have been no odd noises. But…
“I got a strange message on the café’s social media account. Hold on.” I fish my phone out of my back pocket and pull up the app. Tapping on the messages, I flip my phone around for Sheriff Blackstone to read.
She plucks a business card from her pocket and hands it over. “Don’t delete it. Screenshot it and send it to my email. We’ll do some digging and see if we can figure out who the user is.” She makes a couple notes on her tablet. “In the meantime, might I suggest looking into cameras for the store? A few outside and inside.” Closing the cover on the tablet, she tucks it under her arm. “We don’t see a lot of crime around here, but during the season, something always crops up. Better to err on the side of caution. Protect you, your employees, and the town.”
The idea of putting cameras up anywhere in or around the shop gets under my skin. The town isn’t a hundred-percent crime-free, but it was a rarity to hear news of break-ins or theft or vandalism. It wouldn’t shock me if the police station received more calls about cats in trees or neighbors planting flowers too close to the caller’s yard. Sure, there was always a small uptick during the season, but it was usually shoplifting or bar fights.
“Promise, I’ll look into it,” I concede on a huff.
As Sheriff Blackstone steps away from the counter, the bell over the door jingles. Ready to greet whoever walked in, I turn to see Braydon striding in with his laptop bag and a fading smile. In seven quick strides, he is across the room and at my side.
His hands frame my face and he steps impossibly closer. “Are you okay? What happened?”
I sigh and lean into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Let me get you a coffee first.”
God, will this day end already.
CHAPTER24
BRAYDON
After she recants the horrific events of her morning, Alessandra excuses herself and says she will return with food. I don’t argue. With the morning she’s had, she probably needs a long soak in the tub, candles, and whatever her favorite food is.
Note to self… find out her favorites.
My laptop is open as I read and respond to emails when she returns. To my surprise, she has two plates and another drink in her hands. Closing the lid, I shove my laptop aside. She sets a plate in front of me, loaded with eggs Benedict, home fries, and fruit. Taking the seat next to me, she sets down another plate piled high with French toast, scrambled eggs, and fruit. Before either of us takes a bite, she lifts the cup and drinks half the green, creamy liquid in her cup.
“Better?” I ask.
She scoffs. “Not in the slightest. But stewing over it won’t solve anything.” She spears a strawberry and aims her fork in my direction. “But if you see anyone around town with yellow fingertips, you better say something.”
I cut into my eggs Benedict. “Yes, ma’am.”
Though her day started off on a sour note, I hope to make it better. After some time on the patio and writing, I need to make a few stops.
Parked behind Java and Teas Me, I second-guess everygoodidea I had hours ago.
The café closed an hour ago, but Alessandra is still here. Well, her car is parked in its usual spot in the alley. Being the owner, I don’t foresee her out the door before any of her employees. Not to mention, she said the main reason she doesn’t shoot for relationships is because she works more often than not.
I wrangle my phone from my pocket, open my email app, and scroll through the messages.Delete. Delete. Save for later. Reply.
Hey Dad,
Things here are good. I’m not a hermit in the bed-and-breakfast, but I am making headway with the story. When I get back, I owe you and Shawn dinner. Send Mom my love. Talk soon.
Love,
Braydon
Chatter snaps my head up as a woman and man exit Java and Teas Me. A few spots down from the door, they don’t see me as they head in the opposite direction down the alley. They chat another moment, get in their respective cars, and drive away.
Not sure if it is safe for me to assume Alessandra is alone in the café, but as I exit the car and lock up, I surmise it to be the case. For now, I leave the bag in the car. Seeing me will shock her enough. Don’t need her in freak-out mode after the day’s events.
I rap my knuckles on the door, then take a step back and shove my hands in my front pockets. Two forward and back rocks of my heels and the door swings open. A frazzled-looking Alessandra greets me, brows pinched tight in the middle. She glances over my shoulder, then shifts her gaze back to mine as her shoulders sag.
“Hey.” The three-letter word is laced with exhaustion and defeat.
