Raeanne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry Summer

“I guess I’m just lucky they didn’t hit the bookstore.”

“So have you caught them?” Alex asked.

“Still working on it. I need to ask Claire a couple of follow-up questions.”

“Please. We’d like to know what’s going on.” In her quest for information, Ruth had apparently decided to momentarily overlook her dislike of Riley.

“If you all don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Claire in private. Certain details of the investigation are somewhat sensitive.”

Ruth didn’t bother to hide her disappointment as Claire rose and led the way to her office. Riley shut the door, then stretched out in her visitor’s chair, rubbing at his forehead. He looked tired, she thought. His day likely had been even harder than hers. She’d only had to deal with one robbery while he’d been faced with a whole crop of them.

“Would you like some coffee?” she asked. “Or I’ve got tea.”

“I’m good, thanks. If I have any more caffeine today, I’m going to be jumpier than a grasshopper on lawn-mowing day.”

“You have information for me?” she asked.

“I guess you could call it information. For what it’s worth anyway. It’s not much, I’m afraid, but I did tell you I would pass along what I could. We found a possible eyewitness who saw a suspicious vehicle pulling away from the pizza place at an odd time in the early hours of the morning. A late-model dark blue or green or black extended-cab pickup truck. The eyewitness didn’t get a good look and is uncertain whether it was a Dodge or a Ford.”

“Great. That should narrow it down to, oh, maybe half the town.”

“I know it’s broad, but at least it’s something. Not all the security cameras in the other businesses were disabled. We’ve got security footage at the bike shop that shows three different individuals at the scene, but they’re all wearing ski masks and cheap disposable raincoats over their parkas to hide any identifying clothing.”

With some degree of shame, she realized she hadn’t given much thought to the rest of the affected stores. “Was the damage serious at the other businesses?”

“It varies. Computers, a little cash. They took a high-end mountain bike from Mike’s Bikes.” Despite the fatigue still etched into his features, his gaze seemed to sharpen. “Yours was the only store to see actual vandalism.”

Lucky her. “I still don’t understand why. Maybe they were angry that I didn’t have much for them to steal for their trouble.”

“Could be. Or maybe it was more personal. I’m sorry, but I have to ask, Claire. Can you think of anyone with a grudge against you, besides Dr. Asshole?”

She stared at him and then started to laugh. She couldn’t help herself. “Jeff? You think Jeff had something to do with this? That’s completely insane! He would never be involved in anything like this. Anyway, he has no reason to have a grudge against me. If anything it’s…”

“The other way around?”

Any trace of laughter shriveled. “Jeff and I have tried very hard to get along, for the sake of our children.”

“Ah, that rare beast, the amicable divorce.” Although he spoke in a light, mocking tone, she saw something in his eyes, some hint of bitterness, and she remembered the raw shock of his parents’ breakup. She and Alex had just been starting their senior year, so they would have been about seventeen. Riley would have been about fourteen, she estimated. Although she had seen it all through the prism of her best friend’s experience, she knew all six of the McKnight children had been confused and angry, devastated by the destruction of what had always seemed a happy family to everyone in town.

She knew Riley had struggled the most, the lone male left in a household of women after their father abruptly moved away from Hope’s Crossing to follow his own scientific ambitions.

“We’ve worked to make it as amicable as possible,” she finally answered stiffly. She really hated talking about her divorce.

“What about the new wife? We believe at least one of the individuals on the security footage might be a female.”

She tried to picture Holly skulking around town with a band of cat burglars, breaking into businesses, stealing bikes and computers and trashing String Fever—and Genevieve Beaumont’s wedding dress. The image was even more amusing than the idea of Jeff on a wild crime spree.

“You’re telling me you suspect that a woman who is five months pregnant might be some ruthless criminal mastermind?”

His dimple quirked. “Hard to say under the plastic raincoat whether she was pregnant. But, okay, probably not.”

“A word of advice. You might want to rethink dragging Holly into your little room with the lightbulb for an interrogation.”

He gave a full-fledged grin at that, all those shadows of earlier gone. He’s a pest, she reminded herself, but it was very tough to remember that when he gunned her engine like it hadn’t been revved in a long time.

“It would help the investigation if you could spend some time trying to think if anyone might have reason to be angry with you. Maybe ask your employees if they can come up with anyone who might have a grudge, against either you or them.”

She hated thinking someone out there who might dislike her or any of her employees. Katherine worked part-time for her sometimes, but she was one of the most admired women in town. Evie couldn’t have been in Hope’s Crossing long enough to make many enemies—except for maybe Brodie Thorne, Katherine’s son, who for some strange reason seemed to actively dislike the other woman. Brodie was one of the town’s most prominent businessmen, though. She could picture Holly and Jeff as some Bonnie and Clyde team before she could imagine Brodie in that role.

That left only Maura’s daughter Layla, who worked in the store after school and on Saturdays.

And, of course, Claire herself.

“I’ll do that,” she said. “I really appreciate you stopping by to keep me up-to-the-minute with the investigation.”

“You’re welcome.” He leaned back farther in the chair. “How about an information trade, then. Are you going to tell me what everyone was saying about me when I walked in?”

She could feel her face heat, for some completely ridiculous reason. “Um, what a good police officer you are,” she finally improvised.

He smiled. “Hmm. Now why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you happen to have a suspicious mind?”

“Comes in handy when you’re a cop. Never mind. I only hope it was juicy.”

Before she could respond, she heard the bells jangle loudly out in the store as someone yanked the door open and an instant later, her eight-year-old son raced into her office.

One of the best things about owning a store just a few blocks from both the elementary school and middle school was that her children could come hang out at the store once the afternoon bell rang on those days when their dad didn’t pick them up or Claire’s mother wasn’t available.

Macy loved to bead, creating bracelets and earrings for her friends, and she had a burgeoning sense of style. Claire let her work off the cost of the beads she used by sorting inventory and doing light filing for her.

Owen wasn’t much interested in beading, but after he finished his homework under her watchful eye, she allowed him an hour of Nintendo on the console in her office—which the thieves must not have discovered in the cabinet. Because she didn’t let him play video games at home, coming to String Fever was usually a genuine treat for him.

She loved having a few extra hours with them when they weren’t bickering. This didn’t look like one of those times.

“Macy has a boyfriend, Macy has a boyfriend,” Owen sang out, his wool beanie covering his dishwater blond hair and his narrow shoulders swamped in the bulky snowboarder parka he insisted on wearing.

“Shut up!” Macy followed closely behind with a harsh glare at her brother, somehow managing to look both outraged and a little apprehensive of her mother’s reaction at the same time. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know you were walking after school with Toby Kingston and you were laughing and looking all goofy.” Owen crossed his eyes and let his mouth sag open in what Claire assumed was his interpretation of a lovesick twelve-year-old.

“I was not.” Macy’s color rose and she looked mortified, especially when she saw Riley sitting in the visitor’s chair. “Mom, make him stop!”

“Owen, stop teasing,” she said automatically.

“I wasn’t teasing! I’m telling the complete and total truth. You should have seen her! Macy and Toby sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S…” His voice trailed off when he finally focused on something besides tormenting his sister and realized she had company in her office. “Sorry. Hi.”

Riley looked amused at the sibling interchange. Big surprise there because he’d written the playbook on teasing one’s older sister. Or in his case, five older sisters. “Hey.”