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“Also an option,” Travis agreed. And it didn’t clear Lila. It downright implicated her. She had to know it worked that way. In Travis’s opinion, if she’d been innocent she would’ve suggested the thief might be connected to the grocer. It was the only logical reason to put a stash in that potato bin. He also recalled that yesterday, the potatoes had felt and looked fresh. Why would they have ordered more?
“Can you look back and check how often potatoes are ordered for the yacht?”
He’d been protecting Juliet for over a year and plain white potatoes weren’t on her plate very often.
“Sure,” the tech wiz replied.
A prickly sensation crept across the back of his neck. Something was way off about all of this. Something beyond the serious value of the stolen items. “One more thing. Please,” he added belatedly.
“Name it.”
“Check on the status of Lila Copeland.”
“You think she’s in on it?” Connor wondered.
Logically he couldn’t rule her out. In fact, just about everything pointed directly to her. Which only made that pricklysensation worse. “She had access,” Travis allowed. “I’m more concerned she’s being set up.”
His instincts were screeching now. She’d mentioned a thief’s high, but she’d also said she was doing an inventory when she found the bag. Considering how rarely potatoes were served on board, would she have found the stash if she hadn’t been leaving the yacht?
“No,” Travis said. “No, I don’t think she’s in on the heist.” He forced himself to voice his real concern. “I’m worried she might be a target now. It wouldn’t be a big leap for a thief to believe she’d found the stash and left the decoy bag behind.”
Connor whistled low.
That summed it up.
“I’m on it,” Connor promised. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something.”
Travis wasn’t happy. He was downright pissed off. Someone had committed a crime right under his nose, in territory that he’d been charged with keeping safe.
Lila had been, by default, under his protection too. Technically, she wasn’t his concern any longer and yet he had to go. Had to find her and make sure she was safe. What was the name of the family bakery?
Telling himself that what he was about to do fell under the umbrella of finding the thief and breaking up a criminal enterprise, he searched for bakeries on Brookwell Island. Just one, he noted, and the Bread Basket was listed as closed for the day. Damn. Where would she go? Hopefully, by the time he got over there, Connor would have an address.
Every instinct he had warned him that things were about to go to hell.
Chapter 4
Lila poked around downtown Charleston for a bit after she left the yacht. It felt good to get her land legs back, even while she dragged around her single suitcase. She wandered, getting familiar with the area once more, and treated herself to a hearty lunch at an Irish pub. Over a savory stew and a traditional, perfectly-baked soda bread, she debated between taking the ferry to Brookwell or using a rideshare app.
Ferry, she decided, sending her grandmother a message so they could meet at the dock on the island. Her heart warmed with all the nostalgia of going home by ferry. The trip would take longer, but that only gave her more time to wallow in all the feelings that were rolling through her.
It seemed important, significant to return by ferry. She’d visited the island often as a kid. Most of the time her parents drove. But the year that everything changed—eventually for the better—she’d crossed on the ferry. Her parents had dropped her at the dock on the first day of summer break. No, the second day, she remembered. The first day had been the long drive fromTennessee to Charleston, where they’d slept in the converted van overnight.
She hadn’t known that would be the last time she’d see either her mom or dad in person. Through the summer the scheduled weekly phone calls trickled off to zero contact, until she made the decision, with the support and approval of her grandparents, to stay on Brookwell. To create separation from the parents who didn’t seem to know what to do with her, aside from teaching her how to lie, cheat, and steal.
She had no idea about the full legalities, only that there were some formal requirements. To this day she didn’t know if her parents had been sober when they relinquished their parental rights to her grandparents, just grateful those signatures were accepted and filed. Still more thankful that without a murmur of stress or complaint, her Gram and Grandad handled the details so she could start high school in the fall with the rest of the island kids.
For a girl who hadn’t seen much of a normal, healthy childhood, her grandparents had given her the world. Learning that love was more than words, and backed up by actions that created stability and hope? That had been priceless.
Empowering.
Seeing the world through the eyes of people with real character and integrity had changed her forever.
She tore off another bit of bread and chewed, lost in thought. It was possible admitting all of that to Travis would’ve cleared her of any doubt immediately. Or not. He wasn’t head of security because he was gullible. Besides, she didn’t dwell on those early days of her life. Those weren’t the circumstances or memories she wanted people to connect with the woman she was now. Sure, the rough start might tug on a few heartstrings. Might even inspire someone at a low point to make a turn for the better.
Not that she’d done it alone. It still bothered her that she couldn’t declare, without any doubt, that she would’ve found a way out of the destructive gravity of her parents on her own. Granted, she’d been a kid. A kid who’d had the advantage of relatives who weren’t afraid to intervene and offer up an option.
Maybe one day she’d be ready to share more and give back in that way too. First though, she wanted to bake and explore the range of her talent and creativity. She wanted to be known for her pastry, rather than her past. She was the granddaughter of Connie Copeland, Brookwell Island legend. And she was an innovative baker in her own right who would soon take up the family legacy.
