“Who said I was?” She avoided eye contact and instead watched Killer. Who was watching her? She must be putting off some sort of danger vibes for someone to be so interested in her.

  Drew tapped on the paper. “Besides this? I got a call from a neighbor that someone broke in yesterday and left in a blue Jeep, but when I got there, the place was empty. I called Kelly, and he said he thought they had forgotten to lock the front door.”

  “The front door was open. I didn’t break in.” The words came out before she could consider what consequences her actions—and her honesty—could have. “It looked like they wanted people to look through their listings when they weren’t there.”

  “It used to be that way, but they’d been having issues with break-ins this last year, so they started locking the front. I guess they didn’t redo their signage. And before you go back today to see if you can ‘chat’ with Kelly, he’s coming in to talk to me at one. So stop investigating.”

  “Who said I was investigating? I might have been looking for a house for a friend. And does that mean you don’t want me to talk to your father?” Rarity reminded him.

  “Okay, stop investigating after you talk to Dad. Just be careful out there. It’s not safe if there’s really a killer out and about. Even if it is a small town. People die here just like they do in the city.” He stood and held up his coffee cup. “Thanks for this. When you know what’s going on, call me and we’ll do coffee. I’ll tell my folks they’ve convinced me to try to start dating again.”

  “Just not with the girl they tried to set you up with? No way. Besides, I don’t want them thinking it’s a real date. I don’t need the drama.” She followed him into the house, taking the last donut with her. “Do you want this donut?”

  He held out his hand to take it. “Thanks for the help and the coffee.”

  “Thanks for the donuts.” She went out on the porch to watch him drive away. A woman stood on the porch next door. Rarity waved, but the woman ignored her and went back inside. So much for being neighborly. She went back inside and filled her travel mug. Then she put Killer on his leash and grabbed his go bag along with her own tote.

  “Time to go to work.” She and Killer started their morning trip to the bookstore.

  For a Wednesday, the store was busy. People came in and out all day, buying not only the most recent bestsellers, but also many of the recommended hiking books. As she talked with the customers, she realized that most of her business was due to the medical convention that was in town.

  “So, are you a doctor?” she asked one woman who bought five books from Rarity’s curated healing section and had been chatting about Sedona’s mystical powers with a friend for a few minutes while Rarity finished helping the customer before.

  “Actually, my husband is. I’m the supportive wife now. My role used to be to bring in the money while he was in school, but now I’m free to do anything I choose. So, I look up alternative healing solutions for his problem cases. It’s kind of fun.” The woman handed Rarity a credit card. “Your healing section is really well stocked. I had to call several bookstores before I found some of those books, and these were all unavailable. Do you have a card or a website? I’d like to check with you first when I need new reference material. I think you’ll save me a ton of time.”

  “Thanks. That’s nice to hear. I’ve been interested in alternative healing ever since I had cancer about a year ago. When you’re going through that, you tend to grab at all sorts of promises. But I found most of the miracle cures were just smoke and mirrors.” She rang up the purchases and put the books into a bag. She held up a bookmark. “My phone number is on there. I don’t have a website yet.”

  “And yet you live here.” The woman took her credit card from Rarity and tucked it in her purse. “I think you must believe in some magic.”

  As she closed the bookstore that night, she was surprised to see that Sam’s store was already dark. Maybe she’d gone to the hotel to man a table in the lobby. Friendship, that was the magic Rarity believed in and the reason she’d pulled up her life from St. Louis and moved to Sedona. A fresh start in a place where she had at least one friend. She should have told the woman today that. She was always thinking afterward about the things she should have said. Killer pulled at his leash and barked. “Okay, boy, I get it. Time to go home and eat dinner.”

  Now she just had to figure out how to talk to Drew’s dad about Martha.

  * * * *

  On Thursday morning, Rarity was at the bookstore reshelving more hiking books and thinking about the order she needed to place after a very good two days when Jonathon Anderson walked in the door. The bookstore was quiet for the first time that morning. “Good morning, what brings you in today?” she asked.

  “I told you I needed some reading material when we were hiking. It just took me a while to get down here. I swear, Edith keeps a tight hold on my strings. She’s always thinking of new activities we need to try. I never thought retirement would be so busy.” Jonathon scanned the shelves. “I’m looking for some backlist books from one of my favorite thriller authors. I just found him a few months ago, and I’ve been trying to get caught up.”

  “Well, let’s see what we can dig up. I probably can order anything I don’t have in stock. And you picked a good day to visit. My latest order goes in at five.” She walked around the counter and pointed to the left side of the bookstore. “That section is over on the side wall. I’ll bring my tablet, and we can look up books as we go.”

  “You’re pretty hands-on for a bookstore owner. Usually in the big-box stores, I only see someone when I go to check out.” He followed her to the thriller section. “Here we go, he’s got quite a backlist, doesn’t he?”

  She smiled and nodded. It was fun to see a reader realize their favorite author had been publishing for years before they’d found the latest book. “He’s very popular. Do you know which ones you’ve already read?”

  Jonathon pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. “I have a list right here. Should I start with the first one and go forward or the next most recent?”

  “That’s up to you, but I like reading them in order, so I learn more about the characters and their motivations.” She checked her tablet. “It looks like we have the first three in stock. Or you could just browse and see what pulls at you.”

  He shook his head. “Nope, I’m going to follow your direction and start with book number one. Drew says you’re smart, so I guess I should take his recommendation. He doesn’t talk about many people here. Are you two dating? Is that why he wasn’t interested in the setup his mom made for him?”

  “Actually, no, Drew and I are just friends.” Rarity thought about the word friends, but she decided it was true, even though they’d just met. They were friends. Comfortable in each other’s company, with many of the same interests. “And I hear he’s considering dating Sam. She and I are friends, too, so even if I was interested in Drew, Sam was my first friend and there’s a loyalty factor there. Anyway, back to the books. It looks like I don’t have four and five in the series, but I have six and seven. Do you want me to order the missing two?”

  “Please. I’ll take the first three and come back for more when I’m through with them.” He took the books off the shelf and studied the back covers. Without looking at her, he continued their conversation. “I’m sorry if I was too personal back there. Edith just wants to see Drew happy, and she’s convinced being in a relationship is just what he needs.”

  Rarity laughed as she added the next two books to her order for the week. “From what I know of your son, he’s pretty aware of what makes him happy. I think our generation just doesn’t get married as early as yours did. We have to be convinced a relationship is forever.”

  “Is that why you’re still single?” He followed her to the counter and set the books down.

  She considered how to answer his question. If she hadn’t gotten diagnosed with cancer, she would have been married by now. To a guy whom she’d found out wouldn’t stick with her in the hard times. “Actually, I was on the path to marrying Mr. Wrong a few years ago. A few things happened that let me know he wasn’t the one. So now I’m just taking care of me. I’m open to the idea of marriage—I just don’t think it’s the right time.”

  “And after your cancer scare, you want to be sure.” Jonathon pulled out his credit card. “I understand. There have been times in my life when I questioned whether Edith and I were ‘meant to be.’ Whether or not she was my soul mate. But I always come back to the fact that our lives together are what we make of them. Don’t hold out for a fantasy when real life is more rewarding.”

  “Thank you for the purchase and the advice. I’ll think about it.” She tucked his books in the bag and thought if she was going to ask, this probably was the best time she’d ever get. “You said you questioned the fact that Edith was your soul mate. I understand you and Martha were friends. Was she someone you thought might be a soul mate if you weren’t married?”

  “Martha?” He started laughing and shook his head. “No, Martha Redding was more of a pain in my backside than a potential soul mate, or even a friend. We were in the same Bible study class, and she found out that I’d worked in construction before. So, every time something broke at her house, I was the first one she called. I replaced all her faucets and rebuilt her deck railing. Whoever buys that house from the estate will at least have most of the updates done.”

  “Oh, I guess I’d heard wrong.” At least Drew wasn’t going to have to worry about his dad having a relationship with another woman. Or him killing her. “She just had so few friends, I thought maybe.”

  “I guess we were both wrong with our assumptions, now, weren’t we?” He leaned on the counter. “I can’t believe someone murdered her. According to what Drew can tell us, he doesn’t even have a suspect. The woman was caustic, which was why she didn’t have friends, but no one deserves to be killed over the way they approach others. From what I knew about her, she only loved one thing. The little dog you’re now taking care of.”

  “Killer’s a great dog.” Rarity glanced over to where Killer was sleeping by the fireplace. “He’s totally taken over my heart.”

  Jonathon smiled over at the dog. “He’s a good dog. He’s very loyal and not a bad watchdog for his size. Tiny, but mighty, at least in his bark. One day I was working on the deck, and Martha had a visitor. Killer went off and wouldn’t stop barking until this other guy left. He didn’t like him one bit. Which was odd, since Killer seemed to love men. Or maybe it was just me. I have a way with dogs and other wild animals.”

  After Jonathon left, Rarity thought about his words. She added him to her notes in her investigation book. Maybe someone from the group could collaborate his ‘I’m just a handyman’ story. The good news was, she didn’t have to tell Drew his dad was a cheater. At least, she believed his story. Though, if Jonathon was a cheater, he probably was also a good liar. Would he lie to someone he barely knew? Killer came over and pawed at her leg, telling her he needed a quick walk out to the back alley.

  She put up a Be Right Back sign and locked the front door. The sidewalk outside her store was empty, so it was a good time to let Killer do his business. She grabbed baggies and a leash and headed to the back door.

  In the alley, she walked in the shade, where the sun wouldn’t heat her up any more than the air already was. It also kept Killer’s feet off the burning pavement. He nosed around, barked at a bird who landed in his way, then explored some more. Rarity was lost in thought as she considered Jonathon’s words. Especially the ones about how he’d thought Drew liked her. She really needed to make sure Sam understood that she and Drew were just friends. At least on her part.

  Killer barked and rubbed his face against her pants. She found the present he was announcing and cleaned it up, dumping the bag into her trash can, then she opened the back door to the shop. She saw something out of the corner of her eye and stopped. Was Sam’s back door open?

  She walked over to Sam’s building and checked. The back door was open a crack. She opened it farther and called inside. “Sam? Sam, are you there?”

  No answer.

  She reached for her phone in her back pocket but realized she’d left it in the bookstore. She picked Killer up and pushed open the door. Maybe her fear was because they’d just been talking about Martha’s murder. Or maybe it was because she hadn’t talked to Sam since Tuesday night, but she grew more and more concerned as she walked through the empty shop.

  She paused at the front door and checked the sign. Relief flooded through her when she read the message Sam had left. She was manning a table at the hotel through Friday. She must have just left the back door open accidentally.

  She blew out a breath, and Killer whined. “It’s okay, Sam is just working somewhere else. We’ll call her and let her know we locked the back door for her.”

  Rarity made her way back to the curtain separating the shop from Sam’s studio. Before she walked through, she heard the slam of the back door. She peeked inside the studio to find that the door she’d left standing open was now shut. Someone else had been inside Sam’s studio. She stepped back and, using the store phone, dialed 911.

  When the dispatcher answered, she spoke calmly and quietly into the receiver. “This is Rarity Cole. I’m in Sam’s crystal shop, and I think someone broke in and just left. I’m afraid to go out through the back door. I don’t know what I’ll find there.”

  Chapter 13

  Drew stood next to her in the alley. The heat was causing drops of sweat to run down her face. She’d given up the idea of wearing makeup when she’d moved here because of the heat. During her call, the dispatcher had told her to stay where she was, so when Drew and another officer came to the front door, Rarity had let them inside. While she’d waited for the police to show up, she’d tried to call Sam three times using the store phone, but each time it had gone directly to voice mail. She didn’t know where her friend was, but now she was worried. She still held a shaking Killer in her arms. He was going crazy worrying about her reactions. “Have you heard from the hotel yet?”

  “My guys just got there.” Drew pulled her into a hug. “She’s going to be there. Don’t worry.”

  “All I can do is worry. I can’t believe I didn’t try to call her last night when I got home. I was just so tired after a busy day in the shop.” Rarity blamed herself for not reaching out. Right now, if Sam was missing, the last time she’d seen her was Tuesday night. She and her kidnapper could be in New York or Mexico or Canada by now.

  “Look, did you close the bookstore? I hate to think people are milling around waiting for a clerk to show up.” He smiled, and she realized he was joking with her.

  “Yes, I locked the front door to the bookstore. I said I’d be right back, but that was a half hour ago.” She turned to her back door. “Maybe I should go reopen? If I act like nothing’s wrong, maybe that’s what will happen.”

  “There’s no reason for you to be out here in the heat. I’ll let you know as soon as I find her.” His phone buzzed as he started walking her toward her shop door. He glanced at it and smiled. “Sam’s at the hotel. She said she was at the shop this morning and must have forgotten to lock the door.”

  All the tension in Rarity flooded out of her. “Thank goodness.”

  They paused at the back door, and she let Killer down inside. He hurried into the main part of the shop. “Look, I’ll go talk with her and make sure everything’s all right. We have someone coming to take prints, since it appears someone was inside when you were. Probably some bored local kid.”

  “I’m so glad. Sorry to have bothered you and your guys.” She paused at the door. “Come by when you get off work tonight. I need to talk to you.”

  He nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

  She went inside, and after locking the back door, she went back into the front and unlocked that door. Then she went back to her ordering. Her heart was still beating faster than usual, but she was trying to calm down and not think about what could have happened. Sam was fine, and whoever had been in her studio was gone now. The police would lock up the back door, and Sam could let them know if anything had been taken. Everything was back in order.

  So why did she still feel like someone was watching over her shoulder?

  A knock sounded at her door exactly at six. Rarity had just gotten home, as there had been a rush at the bookstore just before she’d closed up. Everyone wanted to talk about the break-in. She didn’t have much to add to the rumor mill, but she sold at least one book to each of the twenty people who’d wandered in to chat.

  She opened the door, and Drew stood there with a takeout bag from one of the local diners. Rarity thought it was some sort of pasta with red sauce and bread sticks from the smell. “We’re going to start people talking if you keep bringing me dinner.”

  He grinned and walked past her. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing they could gossip about. Besides, it was either eat with you now or not at all. I’ve got to go back to the station. One of the beat cops found a homeless guy with one of your friend’s bags over in the park. He had it stuffed with metal that he was probably going to Flagstaff to sell for meltdown.”

  “Well, at least Sam will get it back. I know we have insurance for these types of things, but it’s hard to get past the feeling of being violated. I’m just glad she wasn’t there and in his way.” She pulled out plates and silverware.

  “We could eat on paper plates, so you don’t have to do dishes.” Drew set the bags in the middle of the table, frowning at the china she’d set on the table.

  “You’re kidding, right? Anyway, using dishes makes it feel like a real meal. If I eat out of a bag, I feel like I’m hungry sooner. I think there’s something to be said for eating at the table. Besides, we have things to discuss, and I don’t want you spilling food on my carpet when you hear what I have to say.” She opened the fridge. “I have iced tea or cola.”