Operation Hero's Watch. Justine Davis
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applies here.”
“When he kept hanging around, did your thoughts about what he might be up to get worse?”
“Oh. Yes,” she said with a small laugh. “I started wondering if he was working up the nerve to steal something, or rob us.” As if she’d heard her own words, her eyes widened. “Do you think that’s what it was? That he was...what, casing our shop? That would be pointless—we really don’t have much cash on hand. Most people use credit or debit cards.”
“Assuming the shop’s cash is what he was after,” Rafe said.
“But what else?”
“Did he make you nervous?” Jace asked. “In a...personal way?”
“You mean did I feel like it was me specifically he was watching? Not then. Not until I started feeling watched around here, at home.”
“What made you think it was the same man?”
Cassie let out an audible breath. “That’s what the police asked. And since I’ve never really seen him when he’s been here, I still don’t have an answer other than odds.”
Jace knew she meant the odds that in a small town like this there would be two men hanging around the two places she frequented most. He agreed, but he wasn’t sure the clearly experienced and likely more suspicious Rafe would. But the man was simply nodding, looking thoughtful.
“Too coincidental,” Jace said.
“Yes.” Cassie sounded relieved that he understood.
“I need to ask you some questions,” Rafe said. “And some of them might seem not pertinent, maybe even impertinent.”
Cassie drew back slightly, looking at the man. “Not a word I’d dare to apply to you.”
Rafe smiled, just slightly, and Jace had the thought that it wasn’t exactly a pleased smile. And Cutter shifted suddenly, from his polite, alert posture to leaning slightly against Rafe’s knee. The man’s hand went to the dog’s head, to scratch behind his right ear, and it had the feel of an automatic gesture, done so often it didn’t require thought any longer.
It was almost like the dog had also sensed that smile hadn’t been a happy one and had moved to comfort. He remembered how his childhood dog, Max, had always seemed to know when he was sad or upset and had come to comfort him.
And remember what that cost him.
He shoved away the memory as Rafe spoke again.
“I’m sure you’ve already thought of the obvious,” Rafe said, “but I have to ask anyway. And if I ask what seems like the same thing again but in a different way, don’t feel hounded. Sometimes just a different way of phrasing can trigger different thoughts and ideas.”
Jace listened as the man asked a string of questions. Some he could have answered himself, and he nodded when she did so exactly as he would have expected. Cassie would never get into an argument at work—she was the peacemaker, probably learned from years of trying to broker peace between her brother and their parents. She had a knack for seeing things from another point of view and acknowledging it without ever conceding her own. And she had worked in the flower shop since she was a teenager, so she knew her stuff. Not to mention, knowing her, she worked harder than anybody else.
Unhappy customers? No one that stayed unhappy.
You don’t have to agree. Sometimes all people need to know is that you hear them, understand where they’re coming from. That was Cassie’s philosophy, and always had been. Nobody could stay mad at her for long.
Traffic accidents? No, Cassie was very careful.
Upset neighbors? He nearly laughed at that one. Unless she had very much changed, Cassidy Grant was who you came to if you needed a favor—your dog walked, your cat fed, your kid watched at the last minute; if she could, she’d do it.
True, he hadn’t had contact with her in years, but that was who Cassie was at her very core, and he doubted she had changed much.
Boyfriend?
Jace went still. He should have realized that one was coming. Felt silly when he realized he was holding his breath, waiting for her to answer.
“No.”
No explanation, just a flat no. He could breathe again. And he’d analyze what the hell that meant later.
“Exes?” Rafe asked.
She glanced at Jace. A quick flick of a look, but he was certain he’d seen it.
“Not...recently.”
“How long ago?”
She answered neutrally, “Nearly two years.”
Two years? How had a woman like Cassie gone two years without having guys beating down her door?
“Long time,” he said, his voice coming out a bit gruff. She only shrugged.
“How were the partings?” Rafe asked. Belatedly, Jace realized this could be exactly what they were here about.
“Agreed upon, if not amicable,” she said, her voice still betraying no emotion at all. Odd, he thought, she’d always had trouble hiding her emotions before. He found he wasn’t particularly happy that she’d learned.
“How far from amicable?” Rafe continued pressing.
“Not very. And what wasn’t was on my part.”
There it was, finally, a trace of...something. Pain? Hurt? He felt suddenly guilt that he was glad of it, but he couldn’t deny this cool demeanor was bothering him. Cassie had always been quiet, but never cool. Even back then he’d often suspected she was quiet because inside she was very much not cool.
And sometimes those hazel eyes had been dark with emotion, absolutely stormy. Cory had asked him once how he always seemed to know when she was in a mood. “It’s right there in her eyes,” he’d answered, surprised that it wasn’t obvious to everyone.
“I’ll need names,” Rafe said. At her edgy look he added easily, “Process of elimination.”
“Oh.”
“Who was the most recent?”
“Steve Larsen. He’s a teacher at the middle school.”
“How’d it end?”
“He went back to his ex-wife.” She gave a half shrug. “I understood. They have two young children. They remarried, and I’m happy for him.”
“Who was before that?”
“Tim Sparks.”
Jace gaped at her. “You dated the jock?”
Cassie shifted her gaze to his face. “Says the judo champion of the entire school district?”
“Yeah, but Tim, he was...”
“Yes, he was. But he’s grown up a lot since he used to strut around campus. Having your girlfriend die in a car accident will do that to you.”
He blinked. An image of the girl, the classic cheerleader type who had been the perfect match for the football captain, formed in his head. They’d been the cliché couple, each a star with their own posse, and together the superstars of their little world. “Carly’s...dead?”
She nodded. “Right after their graduation. You’d know that if you ever bothered to keep in touch.”
“Been a little busy,” he said, stung.
“Hmm.”
He lapsed into silence as Rafe continued to ask her questions. He only half listened, because he was trying to picture quiet, clever Cassidy with the outgoing, unserious Tim. But maybe the guy had found her quiet calm soothing after what had happened. When she said he’d gone on to become