A police cruiser tore up Main Street in Fitzgerald Bay, lights flashing.
Victoria Evans glanced back over her shoulder from the doorway of the Hennessy Law Office. Who was in trouble now? She half expected the patrol car to stop in front of the police station, but it skidded to a halt on the other side of the street, and a uniformed officer leaped out, running toward the Sugar Plum Café and Inn.
âMy shop!â Victoria turned to face Cooper Hennessy, handing off the frosted cookies sheâd walked up the street to deliver. âPaige is in there.â
âYouâd better check it out.â
Immediately afraid for her nine-year-old daughterâs safety, Victoria didnât need any urging. She leaped from the stoop and sprinted down the street, reaching her front door just as the police officer, whoâd darted around the side of the building, circled back to the front.
Victoria reached for the door handle the same instant he did. Gloved fingers brushed her hands. She looked up past the broad shoulders to close-cropped brown hair. The handsome face turned toward her with eyes as blue as the Massachusetts sky. She knew those eyes too well.
âYou canât go in there,â he warned.
Her heart plummeted to her stomach. âBut my daughterââ
âSheâs okay. She called 911. I donât want you contaminating the crime scene. Wait here.â He turned away and rushed inside, leaving Victoria on the porch.
Tumultuous emotions broke like waves inside her heart. Sheâd already had a crime scene at the Sugar Plum Café and Inn a few weeks beforeâan ugly break-in that had caused expensive damages. Fortunately no one had been seriously hurt.
What now? Was Paige really okay? Victoria prayed again for her daughterâs safety. Having lost her own mother and father years before, Victoria had no family left besides Paige, and the little girl was dearer to her heart than anyone. She had to force herself to follow the officerâs instructions not to go inside.
It didnât help who the officer was.
Owen Fitzgerald.
Of all the officers on the Fitzgerald Bay Police Department, why did Owen have to come?
âMommy!â Blond braids bounced as Paige threw herself through the front door.
âPaige!â Victoria scooped her daughter into her arms, holding her tight for one long moment before looking her over to make sure she hadnât been hurt. âThank God youâre okay.â After the horrible incidents of late, especially after that mysterious murder in January, she was relieved to find her daughter unharmed. âWhat happened?â
Owenâs deep voice answered behind her. âA break-in and robbery. Your safe was punched.â
âWhat?â
Owen led her back through the inn to the kitchen. âBasically your perp knocked the dial off with a hammer, placed a punch over the central hub and rapped on the tumblers. The tumblers disengaged and he opened the door. A newer safe will lock up if anybody attempts to punch it, but these antiques donât have that feature.â He pointed across the room to where the Sugar Plum Caféâs antique floor safe sat gaping open, empty.
âIâve been robbed?â Victoria stared at the safe. âI was only gone a couple of minutes. Iâd just taken a platter of cookies over to the Hennessy Law Officeâbarely a block away.â
Owen crouched on level with Paige. âDid you see the robber?â
Paige nodded.
âCan you tell me what you saw?â
Victoriaâs first instinct was to shield Paige from questions. She didnât want her daughter distressed any more than she already was, and she especially didnât want her talking to Owen. He might recognize the family resemblance and realize who Paige was. But Victoria reminded herself that she couldnât let her personal history with Owen interfere with his investigation of the robbery.
Someone had stolen the entire weekendâs receipts from the Sugar Plum Café and Inn. And since most of her customers paid for their small purchases of coffee, rolls, pastries and cookies with cash, that money would be irretrievable.
Gone.
Just like her business, if things didnât turn around soon. Fewer folks had been visiting town. And fewer townsfolk venturing out. Partly because of the blustery weather, but mostly due to the ongoing investigation of the murder of Olivia Henry whose body had been found near the Fitzgerald Bay lighthouse in January. Her murder was still unsolved and her murderer still at large. Victoria prayed the case would soon be solved. Olivia deserved justice, and the people of Fitzgerald Bay deserved peace of mind. Hopefully, once the murderer was caught, business would pick up again. With the added burden of repair bills from the recent break-in, Victoria was barely meeting expenses.