Chapter 2

TWO

OFFICER DONOVAN BLEDSOE took a sip of his tea—sweet iced tea, the way the good Lord intended it to be—and then set the tumbler on his desk. At the moment, he was the only officer in the building. Their police force was small. Too small for their population. But his boss, Grayson Ward, believed in quality over quantity. Gray had been hired to fix the mess the previous chief had made of law enforcement in this small community, and the day he was hired, over half the force turned in their resignations. Those who could took early retirement while others sought employment elsewhere.

Chief Ward was rebuilding, but it was hard to find people who wanted to protect and serve in a small community. And while he’d interviewed a number of candidates over the past few years, only a handful had made the cut.

Donovan was delighted that he was one who’d been brought on board. He felt nothing but pride in his work, the team of officers he served with, and the people he was getting to know better as he settled into life in Gossamer Falls. He’d been here eighteen months, and if it was up to him, he’d retire here.

These people were, for the most part, what his grandpa would have called “good folk.” Crime was present, but it wasn’t unusual for him to go through an entire shift with nothing more problematic than a disabled motorist or a cow on the loose.

Hopefully today would be as slow. By the time he went off shift tonight, he would have put in sixty hours for the week. Not that he minded. Extra shifts meant overtime pay. And long hours at work meant fewer hours at home staring at the walls.

All he had on his agenda was to clear out some paperwork and then walk up and down Main Street. There were two other officers on duty today, but both were tied up until midafternoon. They were providing security for a chili cook-off sponsored by the Chamber of Commerce.

Donovan had still been in Chicago when it happened, but two years earlier, a questionable judging decision led to a full-on brawl with pots of chili, bowls of cheese, sour cream, jalape?os, and at least one cast iron skillet of cornbread being thrown about. The melee appeared to be transitioning from a food fight to a fist fight when one of the town’s elders hopped on his Harley and drove it into the crowd. Somehow there were no injuries.

Since then, the mayor had insisted on a police presence. Which left Donovan as the only officer available if they had a call for most of the day. Normally, Gray would fill in if needed, but today, the chief was off somewhere playing bodyguard to Dr. Meredith Quinn, DDS, town princess, and do-gooder extraordinaire.

Donovan liked Meredith, but he didn’t love her penchant for going off by herself into areas that held hidden dangers she wasn’t prepared to handle. Gray had finagled a promise from her that the next time she decided to run a charity dental clinic in the more remote nearby counties, he’d get to tag along. And while it was clear to everyone in a twenty-mile radius that she wasn’t happy about it, she’d stayed true to her word.

Donovan hoped Gray could keep Meredith out of trouble. Cassie would be devastated if anything happened to Meredith, who was more big sister to her than cousin. Truth be told, the Quinns were pretty loose about how they defined family relationships. Cousins, first cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters ... it didn’t matter. They were Quinns.

His own family of origin had given him no framework to understand the kind of loyalty the Quinns gave each other. Now, a year and half after moving to this tiny village in the mountains of North Carolina, he’d experienced the full force of the Quinn family.

When he’d been dating Cassie, he’d been welcomed. After he broke up with her? No one had shunned him, but there’d been a shift in the Quinns’ reactions to him. They smiled. They shook hands. They nodded when they saw him or raised a hand in greeting when they passed by.

But he was very much on the outside looking in.

He’d hurt a Quinn, and they’d closed ranks around her. He didn’t blame them. In fact, he admired them for it.

“Donovan?” The stricken features of Glenda Justus, their secretary, came into view moments after her voice had reached him. “You need to get out to The Haven.”

A chill skittered across his body. Was Cassie in trouble? No. She wouldn’t be there this early. He stood and grabbed his keys from his desk drawer. “What’s happened?”

“Bronwyn called. She and Cassie found the kitchen at Hideaway vandalized.”

The chill returned as a wave of ice.

Glenda wrung her hands and kept talking in a pitch higher than he’d ever heard from her. “Bronwyn said everything’s destroyed. You’ll need the camera to document it.”

Donovan didn’t fuss at her for telling him how to do his job. “Are they okay?”

“Bronwyn said they’re fine. But, Donovan ... what if whoever did this is still there? What if it’s a trap?”

She’d been watching too many crime shows for her own good.

“I’ll check it out.” He could call the two officers who’d worked the night shift if he needed them, but he’d wait to do that until he evaluated the scene. “Please let Gray know what’s going on.”

“Will do.”

He didn’t run lights or sirens, but he did exceed the speed limit on his way to The Haven. The security guard at the gate waved him through without a word, and he made his way down the winding entry road, slowing only when he approached the populated areas.

When he came to a stop at the back of Hideaway, he paused to let Glenda know he’d arrived and was leaving his vehicle.

He grabbed his small forensic kit, camera, and notebook, then stepped out of his car, nodded at the two security guards flanking the ladies, and focused on Bronwyn and Cassie. “Are you okay?”

Both nodded. Both wore matching expressions of barely contained fury mixed with a splash of fear and a healthy helping of confusion.

“Give me a few minutes to see what we’re dealing with, and then we’ll talk.” Donovan walked into Hideaway’s back entrance. He paused at the door and put on booties.

He looked around as he entered the space. Lockers filled the walls on his left. To his right was a long hanging rod filled with the white jackets the serving staff wore.

Two more steps and he hit the swinging doors that opened into the kitchen and came to an abrupt stop. He studied the scene. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but this kind of destruction looked like the work of an angry individual. It felt personal.

And the word “oops”? That was a taunt.

Would property destruction be as far as they went?

He took several minutes to investigate the space. He squatted down and shone a light on the floor, but there were no footprints. In fact, with the exception of the word “oops” and the random cooking implements that had been tossed around, the floor was pristine.

He formed a plan for how he wanted to proceed, then walked back outside. Bronwyn and Cassie leaned against Bronwyn’s BMW. When he joined them, Bronwyn made eye contact. Cassie did not.

He pointed back to the kitchen. “I need to document the scene first. Then I’ll need to talk to both of you.”

“Of course.” Bronwyn looked around. “Do you mind if we come inside with you? The two of us hanging out on the sidewalk might generate questions I don’t want to deal with.”

“That’s fine.”

“What would you like us to do, ma’am?” The question came from one of the security guards and was directed at Bronwyn.

She turned to Donovan. “Do they need to stay?”

Before he could respond, Bronwyn’s phone beeped. She apologized and answered. She hadn’t put it on speaker, but it didn’t matter. He could hear every word.

“Are you okay? Is Cassie okay? We’re headed your way.” He recognized the voice of Cal Shaw.

“Cal, we’re fine. You don’t need to come. Donovan’s here.”

Cal said something that Donovan couldn’t make out, but the tone hadn’t been complimentary. Bronwyn handed her phone to Donovan. “Cal wants to talk to you.”

He took it. “Bledsoe here.”

“Officer.” Cal’s voice was as chilly as Gossamer Falls in January. “Bronwyn called Landry.” Of course. Landry Hutton Shaw, Cal’s new wife, was the artist in residence at The Haven and good friends with Bronwyn. “Landry called me. I called Gray. Now Mo and I are headed to The Haven.”

“I—”

“I don’t care if you want us there or not. We told Gray we’d help.”

“I—”

“Unless you’ve found a way to clone yourself, you need help. We’re not interested in taking over the investigation.” A muttered sound that might have been Mo disagreeing with Cal’s statement filtered through the air, but Cal didn’t acknowledge it. “And as soon as word spreads to the family, you’re going to need help keeping everyone from storming the castle.”

Donovan pinched the bridge of his nose. The Quinns invading the Pierce stronghold? Wouldn’t that just be pouring fuel on the fire.

He didn’t like bringing civilians in, but Cal Shaw and Mo Quinn, Cassie’s cousins, were both former military and were paid consultants with the Gossamer Falls Police Department. He could use them to secure the scene and they could keep the Quinn family in line without hurting feelings. “Fine. Come to Hideaway.”

“We’re ten minutes out.” Cal disconnected the call.

Donovan handed the phone to Bronwyn. “The cavalry’s coming.”

Cassie and Bronwyn groaned in unison.

“You’re loved.” Donovan’s words came out more sharply than he’d intended. He tried to soften his tone. “It’s a gift, ladies.”

Cassie made true eye contact with him for the first time since he’d arrived. She knew about his family, and the smile she gave him was far more tender than he deserved. “You’re right.”

Donovan turned to the security guards who continued to wait. “I’ll need to talk to you later. For now, put everyone on high alert, and keep guests and staff away from this area.”

“We’ll do that.” The men shook hands and left.

Bronwyn’s phone rang again. She looked at the screen and sighed. “Excuse me.” She answered the call and then took several steps away.

Donovan turned in the other direction to give her additional privacy. Cassie did the same.

Filling the silence would be a mistake. But he hadn’t spoken to Cassie in months. And he had questions. So many questions. But he couldn’t ask any of them, so he went with something safe. “How’s Chef Louis?”

“Good. I went to see him yesterday. He’s showing off his scar to anyone who walks in the door. Tells everyone he’s a walking miracle. Says God left him on this earth for a reason and he’s going to figure out what it is and do it.”

“He wasn’t already doing it? I’ve heard that his food is an almost spiritual experience.”

Cassie glanced in his general direction at his words. “Oh, it is. There’s something sacred about a delicious meal that provides nourishment in a way that speaks to all the senses. And Chef Louis is one of the best.”

“So why does he think he isn’t doing what he’s supposed to do?”

“It has more to do with having time for family. He never married or had children. He told me once that he fell in love in his early twenties, but the lady didn’t return his affections. He said he left his heart with her and transferred his passion to his food.” Cassie slid her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans. “He regrets that now. Not that he could do anything about her. You can’t make someone love you back. But he poured so much of himself into his art that he never gave anyone else the chance to touch his heart.”

“You can’t make someone love you back.” Cassie’s tone had hardened when she said that, and Donovan knew that little speech had been for him. But she kept going, her voice light and airy as she said, “He told me he knows he’s too old and grumpy for romance, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a good uncle and brother. He’s trying to talk his family into going on a cruise next summer.”

Cassie met his eyes and there was a spark of mischief in them. “We were in his kitchen at home, and he was teaching me how to make his secret chocolate sauce for the cream puffs when he shared that. I risked ruining my already tarnished résumé by joking that he should go on a singles’ cruise and see what happens.”

The thought of Chef Louis on a singles’ cruise made Donovan laugh despite the seriousness of the current situation. He’d missed Cassie more than he’d even admitted to himself.