“Thanks, dear. You’re gonna forget I just told you that about our perp, aren’t you?”
“Sure thing, Sergeant. You know me. Silent as a cheesecake.” She winked at him. “I know it’s supposed to be ‘silent as a grave,’ but that’s just too morbid for me. Cheesecakes are equally silent, at least I’ve never known one to say a word.”
He chuckled as he picked up his coffee. “Always nice to see you, Kiddo. Brightens the day. Say hello to your mom.”
“Will do.” Her smile dimmed as he left the bakery.
What was the point in passing along his greeting? Her mom wouldn’t even remember him. It was ten years since they’d dated, and she had a new husband now. He was the worst of the lot.
She went back to her biscuits and saw that they had risen enough to be slid into the big commercial oven. When her mother had started Sweet Harbor Bakery over twenty years ago, she’d done all the baking in a tiny propane unit in an RV. As soon as she’d started turning a profit, she’d invested in a real commercial oven. But old framed photos of the original Sweet Harbor kitchen still adorned the wall. The infamous yellow RV with its cheerful curtains and abundant production of muffins and sweet rolls for the local fishermen was iconic.
The photo with Jessica as a little girl poking her head out of the window to take someone’s order had even made it into a national magazine article about quirky offbeat eateries.
Yup, that was Sweet Harbor Bakery. Quirky and offbeat. Just like Jessica herself—at least according to everyone in town.
What would it take to shake that label? What would it take to inspire someone like Ethan James to look at her with something other than mild amusement?
She sighed, stirring a puff of flour into the air. Why should she care what Ethan James thought of her? He could “rustle up some scones” and shove them where the sun don’t shine, as far as she was concerned.
She had much, much bigger things to worry about. Like the certified letter from her mother sitting unopened on her office desk. Her mother’s new husband, Gary—she always mentally drew out the name in a sarcastic tone—had big plans for Sweet Harbor Bakery and B&B. He was pulling out all the stops to get her to sell.
That was why she’d rushed over to the police station with panic scones. She needed to talk this over with someone. It was such a big decision and she hated making important decisions. Little everyday decisions were no problem, but the big life-changing ones were her Achilles heel. Her fatal flaw. And Maya was so good at them.
The water pipes clanged, meaning someone had just turned on the shower upstairs. That reminded her that she had to fix the hot water heater today. Her B&B guests could handle some minor Alaska-style inconveniences, but not a lack of hot showers.
She left the biscuits for Nia to finish and hurried off to gather up her plumbing tools. Lost Harbor had very few plumbers, so she’d learned to handle such things herself. Besides, she’d much rather play plumber than make a decision. No contest.
Chapter Three
Ethan only had time for a quick meeting with Maya before things got busy at the Lost Harbor police station. They squeezed in apologies on both sides and set an appointment for later that day.
“I have some homework for you before then,” Maya told him as she turned on her computer. “Just give me a second to print my notes.”
“Sounds good. It might have to wait until after a shower and a nap, though.”
“Do I have to apologize again?” she asked wryly.
“No need,” he assured her. She’d dropped the charges, and that was more than enough for him.
“The thing about this case,” Maya explained as she tapped on her files, “it’s not in my jurisdiction. Lost Souls Wilderness is a mix of state and federal land, and since we don’t know exactly where S.G. was found, I can’t say which. I know for sure it isn’t Lost Harbor PD territory. So for me to work on it, I have to do it on my own time, after hours.”
“Which probably doesn’t leave you much time at all.”
She crossed over to the printer on the other side of the room. “Exactly. That’s why I thought of you. Padric Jeffers vouches for you, and so does Darius Boone. I was pretty excited when you agreed to come up.”
“My pleasure. It’s always a good change of pace from California. It came at a good moment.”
Part of him wanted to ask about her friend, Jessica with the divine scones. Before his near-death experience—and before Charley—he might have tried to see her again, because she was appealing and might be fun to pass some time with while he was in Lost Harbor.
But now, he was engaged. No more flirting for him.
“Any big news in your life?” she asked as they watched the printer spit out pages.
“Well, I did get engaged since the last time I was here.”
“Congratulations.”
He grunted. He still wasn’t used to the idea of being engaged. For long stretches of time, he forgot about it.
She eyed him sideways. “Where’s that disgustingly besotted look I usually see when couples get engaged?”
He rolled his shoulders, still getting the kinks out from his night in jail. “It’s not that kind of engagement.”
“You’re not engaged to be married? You got some other kind of engagement down there in the Lower Forty-eight? We’re always behind the times up here.”
“No no, we’re getting married. It’s just not, you know, the sappy kind of engagement. Romantic. All that shit. It’s the practical kind.”
The printer stopped whirring and Maya collected a sheaf of pages. She handed them over to him. “I didn’t get a chance to organize these, so just look at it as raw data. It’s everything I’ve managed to learn so far about S.G. and Edgar Murchison, the fugitive who raised her in Lost Souls. He’s in prison in Texas now on preexisting warrants.”
“Have you interviewed him?”
“He’s not talking. I have no leverage because the Texas authorities aren’t too worried about a girl who survived. They have a bunch of murders they’re pinning on him. He’s a very bad dude and S.G. is a lucky kid.”
Ethan wasn’t sure he’d call being raised in isolation by a murderer “lucky”—but at least she’d survived.
“Will I be able to interview her?”
“We’ll see. S.G.’s a funny girl. She either trusts you or she might pull her hunting knife on you. But we can talk about all that later. You go get yourself a hot shower and some rest. I’ll see you tonight. Where are you staying?”
He opened his mouth to remind her that she should be covering his expenses, but then realized, once again, that they’d never discussed terms. Awkward.
“Never mind. Here, take this voucher for the Sweet Harbor B&B. I bid for it at the last auction and haven’t got a chance to use it. Best breakfast in town. Well, you already know. You liked that scone, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he said cautiously. He wouldn’t mind more of those scones.
“Then you’re all set. See ya later. I want to know more about these ‘practical engagements’ you got going on. I like the sound of that. If I was ever going to tie the knot, it’d have to be something like that.”