Page 48 of Solstice Web


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I stood, giving him a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry about the wire, but…”

“You never know, right? You never know who might be behind those eyes and that smile.” He shrugged. “I understand.”

“About the cake… I’d like to set up a cake tasting with my fiancé, if you’re available.” I reached for another one of the tea cakes. “Do you mind if I take one of these home for him?”

“One moment.” Sirus called to the waitress and asked her to make up a sample box of tea cakes. “No charge. Take them home. If he likes them, call me and we’ll set up a time for a cake tasting.” When the girl returned with the tea cakes, I shook his hand.

“Bye, and…I’m sorry about Janet. And Candy.” The man had been through hell and yet, he seemed to have hope, and that made him special among people.

“Well, it’s better to know what love is like, and lose it, than to never have tasted it at all. I loved Janet and I loved Candy. And I love my Violet. The heart can always expand, if you allow it.” He escorted me to the door and waved as I headed to my car.

On the way back to the police station, I thought about the meeting. Sometimes, the oddest things brought people together. I liked Sirus—actually liked the man. And he was a damned good baker. But I was still no closer to knowing how to free Janet from the wedding dress, and that was my primary goal. Sighing, feeling oddly melancholy after Millie’s people took the wires off me, I headed home, grateful that Killian would be there waiting for me.

* * *

The next morning, the phone rang at sixa.m. Killian groaned. “Who the hell is calling at this time?” he muttered.

I glanced at my caller ID. “Millie,” I said, struggling to sit up. I answered. “Yeah? I mean, morning.”

“Sorry to call so early, but I know you start work early. Listen, can you come down to the station? There’s something odd I want to run past you. It’s from the tape last night.”

I glanced at the clock. “I need to be at work by eight—but I can leave now if you don’t mind me looking like something the cat dragged in.” I was already throwing back the covers.

“I don’t care if you come in your PJs. Thanks. This is important, or I’d wait until a decent hour.”

I trudged over to my closet, glancing through my clothes. I decided on a lilac sundress, and a pair of wedge sandals. I applied some eyeliner and mascara, and woke Killian long enough to ask him to feed the cats when he got up.

“I’ll call you when I get to work,” I added.

He looked too sleepy to ask what I was doing. I quietly exited the room.

In the kitchen, I grabbed my keys and purse, then headed out. The morning was already warm, with the sun glinting down. July in Moonshadow Bay was usually one of the warmest months, along with August. June had been pleasant, but our real heatwaves—what there were of them—usually showed up in late July through August. Western Washington wasn’t generally known for being the sunshine coast.

As I fastened my seat belt, I slid on a pair of sunglasses, then found my Starbucks card. It was easier to pay for my coffee addiction by loading the card with money once a month, rather than constantly searching for cash or my credit card.

I pulled into one of the drive-thrus, asking for a triple grande iced peppermint mocha and a sausage cheese muffin. With breakfast and caffeine in hand, I headed down toward the police station.

Moonshadow Bay was built on two levels, surrounded by the Mystic Wood on three sides and the bay on one. The upper level of town was mostly residential with a few shops, and then—on either side—curving roads led down a steep grade into the main downtown area, which ran along the bay. The view on a clear day was breathtaking, with the waters of the bay stretching out into the Salish Sea, which fed into the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

I rolled down my window so the slightly chilled air could flow through the car. It smelled like seaweed and the pungent scent of the bay. Most people thought it was an acrid scent at first, but to those of us who lived here, it smelled like home.

By the time I reached the police station, I was finally waking up. I took a long drink of my coffee, then bit into my muffin as I hurried toward the building. The police station was in the City Central building, along with the jail, the town hall, the Garrison Library, the central fire station, the public works department, and the courthouse. It was located across from Bayside Park, next to the town square. The park was adjacent to the marina, and so everything was within easy walking distance, although you could still drive through the area.

At one point, the town council had debated whether to make the town square pedestrian-only, but with respect to those with disabilities and the elderly, the plan was nixed and people could still find parking near all of the buildings and the park.

I parked in back of the City Central building, darting up the steps to the back entrance. There were ramps for easy access by wheelchairs and mothers with strollers. Built of red brick, the building spanned a full city block.

Inside, the lighting was muted to a soft white, and the walls had recently been painted, their former gray now sage green. I liked the green better and thought it was more welcoming than the gray. As I darted along the corridors, my footsteps landed softly. The floors were sound-absorbing, so the building was quiet, even during peak usage.

As I passed the library, I thought that at some point, I should stop in to say hello to Charles Crichton, a member of the historical society whose wealth of knowledge branched far and wide regarding Moonshadow Bay history and lore.

I pushed through the bulletproof glass doors to the police station. The dispatcher recognized me and waved me back toward Millie’s office, though I still had to pass through the metal detector. Of course, I set it off, but after a quick glance in my bag, the guard watching over the entrance motioned me through.

Millie was in her office, staring at a report as I tapped on the doorframe.

“Come on in,” she said, looking up as she pushed the report away. “Sit down. Do you want—oh, I see you have coffee.”

I held up my cup. “Yep. Let me finish my breakfast, if you would.”

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