“Oh, I see.” Olivia peered around them. “I think it’ll turn out really well. Sure to entice people in to the yard and then hopefully on to the house. I’m excited for the photo booth.”

  Scott took interest in this, to no surprise of Henrietta’s, and he and Olivia began to talk social media and hashtags and following and Henrietta lost complete interest. Thankfully, Ralph showed up not long after.

  “Was wondering when you’d show up,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee and wishing she’d already succumbed to the enticing, sweet but tangy scent of the scone.

  “How’d you know I would?”

  “Usually, when Scott comes to the shop, you’re not far behind.” She gave in and pulled off a corner of the pastry. The tart frosting mingled with the lavender and lemon flavors perfectly, making her close her eyes momentarily. Perfection.

  “Care to share?” he said with a grin.

  “No. You can get your own.” She savored another bite then met his gaze. “You have something new about the case, don’t you?”

  His eyebrows rose, but he knew better than to be too surprised.

  “I do. Care for a trip to Sequim?”

  Henrietta sighed heavily. There was so much to do to get the shop ready for the festival, but, while she’d be loath to admit it, she had a vested interest in this case now.

  “That’s a yes, isn’t it?” he said, leaning toward her with a grin. She hadn’t said anything, but he knew her well enough to read her expressions.

  “Scott, we’ll be back. You two hold down the fort.”

  Scott looked at once shocked and thrilled, while Olivia looked to Scott then back to Henrietta.

  “We need to run an errand down to Sequim. I’ll be back by lunchtime for your break.”

  “No problem,” Olivia said, sending another furtive glance at Scott then back to her. “We’ll be fine.”

  “We-we will,” Scott said, as if surprised and agreeing at the same time.

  “Henri,” Ralph said, grinning down at her, “let’s hit the road.”

  5

  Ralph drove a gas-guzzling, Ford F150 that roared to life with the first turn of the key and jerked backward as he pulled out of the graveled lot. She half-expected him to spin in the gravel, but he was a more careful driver than she was. Though she’d never admit that to him.

  “Are you going to tell me what we’ll be doing? Or do I have to detect that?”

  “Do you think you could?” he asked, grinning over at her as he pulled onto the highway.

  “Let’s see,” she said, pushing back into the seat to make herself more comfortable.

  They were going to Sequim, a slightly larger town than Heart’s Grove. He really hadn’t said much, but she could guess it had to do with a sighting of the girl—or perhaps someone that had talked with her?

  Then she thought of Frank’s comment about the bus Cybil had taken. It was possible she took that to a station in town and then switched to the Sequim bus. If Ralph had been to the bus station earlier that day then he would have been able to confirm that, possibly even with video surveillance. Many in town had known him as a detective with the PD so they would have had no problem cooperating.

  She glanced around and caught sight of a coffee cup in the holder near the steering wheel. That was all the confirmation she needed.

  “I assume we’re going to see where Cybil was staying.”

  His jaw dropped, and she tried not to enjoy his surprise. At least not too much.

  “How…how in tarnation did you divine that?”

  “No divination involved. Pure deduction.”

  “Please, enlighten me.”

  She sighed, giving in to the desire to grandstand just a little. “Well, first off, I knew it had to be something dealing with Cybil’s past—or even current—whereabouts. That’s what all this is about anyway, so it’s logical.”

  “Right. Go on.”

  “So I assumed you followed up on the bus lead, something which your cup of coffee confirmed to me.”

  “My…my coffee?”

  “Yes. It’s from that little drive-through shop on the way from your house to the bus station. You always stop there, but only if you’re going that way. It ‘only makes sense’ then, as you often say.”

  He shrugged, knowing that he did say that.

  “So then I assumed you got confirmation that she switched buses at the terminal and found she went to Sequim. It would only make sense to go there if you were staying. She could have been meeting someone as well, but to do so on a regular basis—as I assume she did—likely meant she was staying there. And why not, since it’s slightly larger than Heart’s Grove and would be a bit easier to hide in.”

  “Color me impressed,” Ralph said. “Just one thing. How did you know that this coffee wasn’t from yesterday or a week ago?”

  “The coffee stain on your shirt.”

  He looked down. “Well, shoot.” Shaking his head, he looked back at the road. “Henri, you sure you don’t want a job?”

  “Positive. I already have one. Actually, two in reality.”

  “Don’t you go counting writing.”

  “I don’t understand everyone’s aversion to my book.”

  Ralph barely contained a laugh. “Let me put it as gently as I can.”

  She waited, watching him try to contain his laughter.

  “Don’t give up your day job.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know Hemingway received over one hundred rejections. I’m sure his friends berated him as well. I shall not give up.” She tipped her chin in the air.

  “You do that, Henri. You do that.” He took the exit for Sequim and they took a winding road to the south end of town.

  “While you guessed it, I’ll fill you in a little on the specifics.”

  “Please do.” She watched the road, taking in the scenery as he started in on the explanation.

  “I did as you say and checked out the bus station. The older ladies behind the counter love me.” He wagged his eyebrows, but Henrietta pretended not to notice. “Anyway, they were able to pull the approximate time Cybil would have been there.”

  “Did you get that from Frank?”

  “Yep, stopped by on my way and got some more shrimp.”

  She almost commented on his newfound love of the shellfish but decided against it. Too many memories.

  “We scoured through some minutes of footage until we saw her. Small little waif of a thing. She got on the bus out of town toward Sequim.”

  “I see. Was the particular bus visible?”

  “Yep. Which is how I narrowed it down. I think the motel I found is the most likely one. Plus, the guy at the front desk admitted to seeing someone based on her description, though he wouldn’t confirm or deny anything else.”

  “So do you hope to pester him into it then?” she asked, turning toward him as they pulled off the main road into the small parking lot of a Budget Motel. It looked seedy with a few cars, some of them Henrietta wasn’t sure would even run, parked like broken teeth in a fighter’s smile.

  “No,” Ralph said, drawing out the word, “but I do hope to speak with the owner and…reason with him.”

  She scowled. “What does that mean?”

  “To use all my persuasion, and maybe a little bit of yours, to convince him that this is in the girl’s best interest.”

  “That goes against hotel policy!”

  “Um hum,” he said noncommittally as he pulled into a parking space. “Let’s go.”

  Henrietta followed him, though she couldn’t help but scowl. Nothing good, or honest, could come from this.

  They stepped into the motel’s lobby. Paint that used to be white but had turned a grayish color graced the walls of the small room. A broken vending machine sat in one corner with two chairs on either side. A TV with a cracked screen played the local news, and a man with hair the color of the walls sat behind a desk.

  He looked up when they came in, then looked back down.

  “Charming,” she whispered and got an elbow jabbed gently in her side.

  “Good morning,” Ralph said with more cheer than the location deserved.

  “Yeah, be with ya in a second.”

  Henrietta was relatively certain the man wasn’t busy, merely taking his sweet time.

  When he finally turned to them, his eyes went from Ralph to Henrietta then back to Ralph. “You two want a room?”

  “Certainly not,” Henrietta said.

  Ralph shot her another look and leaned against the counter. “Actually, we came for some information. We’re private investigators.”

  Henrietta was sure that there was some type of law against lumping her in with Ralph’s agency, but she decided to remain silent about it just this once. Instead, she took in the man’s body language to this news. His shoulders tensed, and he immediately looked anxious. Anxious reactions usually indicated a person was hiding something. What was this man’s secret?

  “I ain’t got to answer no questions from anyone who’s not the police.”

  Her gaze roamed the desk behind the man. “True,” she said, taking another step forward, “but if you’d prefer us not to mention your tax fraud to the local authorities, perhaps you could answer our very innocuous questions and we’d be on our way.”

  “M-my tax… Just what do you two want?”

  Ralph’s smile broadened. “This girl.” He pulled out a photo of Cybil. “I have reason to believe she is—or was—staying at this location. Can you confirm that?”

  The man looked conflicted, odd to Henrietta considering his willingness to commit other crimes. “We can assure you we’re acting in her best interests. Her parents are looking for her.”

  “She claimed she was eighteen, old enough to get her own room without questions from the likes of me.”

  “And as long as she paid in cash, I’m sure you were very happy.”

  He scowled. “Look, she was nice and looked scared. We get all types here, and I’m not one to question. I’m nobody’s guardian.”

  “How charming,” Henrietta commented. Ralph scowled at her and looked back at the man.

  “She’s not, by chance, still checked in here, is she?”

  “Nah, you just missed her. ‘Er, if she was here. You know.” He tried to look penitent for giving away the information, but it didn’t work. “Checked out a day or so ago. Can’t remember.”

  “May we see the room she was in?”

  “What? You think we don’t have cleaners? It’s already been done.”

  “Mmm.” Ralph nodded thoughtfully. “May we see it anyway?”

  “You know what?” The man leaned down beneath the counter and pulled out an old-fashioned key attached to a diamond-shaped fob. “Knock yourselves out. Number ten.”

  “Thanks. We’ll get this back to you.”

  The man waved his hand but shot a look at Henrietta as if to make sure she really was going to hold up her end of the bargain and not turn him in. She merely stared back until he looked away again.

  “After you,” Ralph said through gritted teeth.

  “Thank you.”

  They walked toward number ten and Ralph let out a sigh. “When I said persuasion, I didn’t mean blackmail. And how did you know he’s committing tax fraud?”

  “You didn’t specify, and I thought suggesting he help us was in all our best interests. And I thought he was doing a crossword but when we approached the counter, I realized it wasn’t that at all. It looks like he’s keeping two sets of books. One no doubt tallying what he gets in cash and the other what he reports.”

  “You’re too much,” Ralph said, but she noted his smile.

  They approached the door and he fitted the key to the lock. The door groaned on un-oiled hinges and swung open to reveal a sparse room. A bed, dresser with lopsided TV that looked like it was from the early 90s, and a nightstand with a lamp took up most of the room. The bathroom, with fixtures that also looked like they were from twenty years ago, peeked through a narrow doorway at the back of the room.

  “Charming,” she said again.

  “Let’s see what Miss Cybil left behind,” Ralph said.

  They took half an hour searching through the room but to no avail. As they were just about ready to give up, a shadow darkened the doorway. Henrietta looked up from where she had been looking under the bed, and Ralph stood up so quickly he nearly knocked the bedside lamp off.

  “I thought of something that might help you all out.” It was the man from the front desk. His bushy hair was wind-tossed from his walk to the room, but he looked in better spirits than he had before.

  “What’s that?” Ralph said, obvious enthusiasm in his voice.

  “You said her parents were looking for her and all that, and I just got thinking that if my boy went missing, I’d want to know where he was.”

  “Right,” Ralph said, trying to urge the man on past the emotional ties.

  “Anyway.” He reached out and roughed a hand over the day’s growth on his chin. “When she checked out, she said something about a ‘more permanent’ arrangement. I assume living. And that she’d no longer have to take the bus. I didn’t know where she was going, but I’d see her out there at the stop most days. I figured, good for her—getting on her feet and all. So, there’s that.”

  “Thank you,” Ralph said, stepping forward to shake the man’s hand. “And here’s the key. We’ve seen all we needed to.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re welcome,” the man said, accepting the key.

  They left, and Henrietta wondered just what type of permanent residence a young woman could find after leaving a job.

  They climbed into Ralph’s truck and headed back toward Heart’s Grove. “So she just left. Seems...odd,” Ralph commented.

  “And for something more permanent. But she also left her job at Frank’s.”

  “Right.” Ralph took a hand from the steering wheel and rubbed at his jaw. “It’s not adding up.”

  “Do you think she’s still around here? What’s to say she didn’t leave the area?”

  “That’s a good question. I’m not sure.”

  “And why is she here in the first place?”

  “Another good question.”

  Henrietta stared out the window, eyes narrowed. “It would seem like this young woman came here for a reason. It’s very specific to come to Heart’s Grove. Almost polar opposite of New York—as the United States goes.”

  “I agree. I tried to get that information from her family, but they seem insistent that they have no idea. That she left, and her last credit card purchase was a ticket here. I almost would have told them it was a ruse if we hadn’t found evidence that she was, in fact, here.”

  “So there has to be a reason.” Henrietta began bobbing her head up and down. “She wouldn’t have come here without one.”

  “Boyfriend maybe?

  “Then why stay in that motel?”

  “We can rule out job if she was willing to work at Frank’s under the table for a time.”

  “And we can also rule out a random choice.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because she’s stayed around. She was so committed to being here, she got a cheap hotel in a larger area and bussed her way to a job that would pay her under the table for a time. Almost as if…” Henrietta’s mind whirled.

  “What?” Ralph glanced at her. “I know that look. What are you thinking?”

  “It’s almost as if she wanted to be at Frank’s.”

  “The man’s son?”

  “Not likely if she left the job.” Henrietta thought of the area. “I’m not sure. It just seems very…specific.”

  They took the exit for Heart’s Grove and Ralph turned down the main street to drop Henrietta off at the shop. When he pulled up out front, he put the truck in park and turned to her. “You think that she wanted to be near Frank’s?”

  “Yes, but I have no idea why.”

  He nodded his head, eyes narrowed and staring into the distance. “Then that’s what we’ve got to find out.”

  6

  A shrill blaring sound woke Henrietta from a dead sleep. She sat up in bed, clutching at her pounding heart and trying to make sense of what was going on.

  The alarm. Her alarm was going off.

  She jumped from bed, nearly tripping on Sepia, her tail the size of a feather duster in her shock at being awoken in such a rude manner.

  “Goodness,” Henrietta said to herself. In all the years she’d had the shop, the alarm had only gone off one other time and it had been due to a pesky squirrel who got a little too zealous with a wire. She hoped that was the case now.

  She wrapped herself in a lightweight robe and stepped into a pair of flip flops, hesitating at the doorway to the hall from her bedroom. She knew that her alarm company would have already alerted the police and would no doubt be calling her to confirm it was, in fact, an emergency, but she felt sudden hesitation about going downstairs.

  When she’d first moved into the top two stories of the large Victorian home, she’d installed a door between the levels. It rested at the top of a long, narrow staircase that led to the first floor. It was always locked at the end of the day when she retired upstairs. At the time, it had seemed like a silly, and slightly costly, addition, but now she was glad for it.

  Now, standing at the door, she hesitated. She was transported back to the first year after she’d moved in. The transition from living with a roommate to living alone had been something of a brutal experience. She’d almost adjusted but every night as she’d close the door, she felt she was closing herself off just a little.

  Years of living on her own save for Sepia had taught her to enjoy the silent moments and to make sure she got out of the house frequently. So far, it had seemed to work.

  Tonight, however, she wished she didn’t live alone.

  As if reminding her both of their lives were at stake, Sepia rubbed up against her legs, her tail returned to its normal size.

  “Oh fine, I’ll be the brave one and check on things for the both of us,” she said to the cat.