RaeAnne Thayne - Blackberry Summer

“Can you spare somebody to send here?”

“Oh, sure. No problem. The new chief is just down the street at Pinecone Property Management, but I think he’s wrapping things up there. I’ll give him a holler and tell him to head over to the store first chance he has.”

“Thanks, Donna.”

“Tell me they didn’t take those gorgeous Czech crystals you bought for Genevieve Beaumont’s wedding gown.”

Her stomach took another dive. “Oh, I hope not. It took me two months to import those through Customs. I don’t know if I’ll have time to get more and finish the design before the wedding.”

“Keeping my fingers crossed here. I’ll call Riley right now and tell him to head over there when he’s done over at the real estate office.”

“Thanks, Donna.”

“You bet. Give me another call if somebody doesn’t show up in the next ten, fifteen minutes or so. And don’t touch anything.”

“Yeah, I watch television. I know that much. I’ll wait outside with Chester until Riley can get here.”

“It’s freezing, darlin’. You can’t wait outside in this weather and neither can that dog. He’s not as young as he used to be. The chief won’t care if you grab a chair inside and sit down until he can make it, just as long as you keep Chester close so he doesn’t go mucking around the crime scene.”

Too much restless energy zinged through her for her to sit calmly and wait for the police, so she remained standing in the doorway, horrified all over again that someone would be so malicious. Stealing from her was one thing. They could have the money and her computer, she didn’t care about that. But why make such a mess? This blatant vandalism was intended to gouge and wound—causing trouble for trouble’s sake, something she had never understood.

Why would someone want to be so hurtful? And why her? She tried hard to be kind to most people she came in contact with. Sure, she had a few disgruntled customers at the store who seemed to think it a crime that she expected to make at least some profit for all the resources of time and energy she poured into String Fever. But she couldn’t imagine any of them being so vindictive as to trash her store just for the fun of it.

She forced herself to do a little of the circle breathing her best friend, Alex, was always trying to convince her to practice and shifted her gaze out the wide store windows at Hope’s Crossing’s Main Street. The morning seemed gray and cheerless, a dreary sort of day. Even though it was mid-April, spring took its dear sweet time arriving in the Colorado high country.

The weather forecasters were predicting a late snowstorm would be moving in later that evening. The ski resort would appreciate a few more inches for the diehard skiers who opted to spend their spring break hanging on to the last struggling days of winter instead of heading to the beach. By this time of year, she was heartily sick of more snow, but at least a little fresh powder would cover the tired, gray piles out there.

Despite the cold and the promise of a storm, she could see a pretty good Monday morning crowd at the Center of Hope Café across the way. She’d noticed the same story at Dog-Eared Books & Brew.

Of course, none of those shoppers would be heading her direction anytime soon, not with the Closed sign still firmly turned in the doorway.

The thought had barely formed in her mind when the door behind her opened with a musical chime. Claire opened her mouth to explain the store was still closed and then shut it again, her spirits sinking even more.

Her fun and exciting morning only needed this, she thought as she watched her ex-husband’s new wife burst through, looking pert and cute and glowing with pregnancy hormones.

“Hi, Claire!” Holly Vestry Bradford chirped, beaming the smile her orthodontist father had worked tirelessly to perfect as she unbuttoned her red wool peacoat and stamped snow off her black UGGs.

Chester grunted and plopped onto his belly, never a big fan of Holly’s.

“Um, this really isn’t a good time,” Claire began. She wasn’t at all in the mood to be sociable right now, especially not to Holly, who seemed to bring out the worst in her, despite her best efforts.

“Oh, my word!” Holly exclaimed. “What happened in here?”

Claire had made a firm policy for the last two years—since Jeff moved out and put an official end to their marriage that had been broken for much longer than that—to be as gracious as she could stand to Holly. “I think we were robbed,” she said, without a hint of the sarcastic retort she wanted to make.

“Oh, no! Have you called the police?”

“I just did. They’re on the way.”

“Oh, Claire. I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t know which she disliked more: the sense of invasion from the robbery, contemplating the endless work putting the store back in order, or being on the receiving end of Holly Bradford’s pity.

“I’m sure everything will be okay. My insurance should cover any losses. But I have to ask you not to touch anything, okay? We can’t mess up the crime scene.”

“Crime scene. That sounds so scary! Right out of CSI: Miami! Where’s Horatio?”

Was she ever this young when she was twenty-five? Claire wondered, then answered her own rhetorical question. No. By then, she’d already been married for over a year, had given birth to Macy and had been working two jobs to put Jeff through medical school.

“I’m sorry things are in such disarray.” She tried on a smile and found she still had one or two in reserve. “Maybe you can come back later today after I’ve had a chance to start cleaning things up.”

“Don’t you worry about that. I didn’t need anything urgent. I guess Macy probably told you about our crazy shopping trip to Vail, didn’t she?”

“She might have mentioned it.” Twenty or thirty times. Her twelve-year-old daughter adored her stepmother. Why wouldn’t she? Holly was the big sister Macy had always wanted. She was fun and young and hip. Holly had read all the Twilight books and had MySpace, Twitter and Facebook accounts.

Claire tried hard not to resent their bond. Macy loved her mother, too, although sometimes she didn’t act very much like she did as she tested her wings on her way to adolescence.

“That girl is a shopping maniac!” Holly gushed. “Jeff just cut us loose with his credit cards while he and Owen went snowboarding and Macy helped me buy a whole new maternity wardrobe. When we got back home and I started opening all those bags, I realized what I really need now are some killer accessories to distract people from my big fat belly.”

Right. Although she was five months along in her pregnancy, Holly could still probably fit into a size 4 pair of jeans, at least if they were low cut.

“You know you look beautiful, no matter what you’re wearing. But new jewelry is always nice.” Particularly when it was handcrafted out of the pricey Venetian glass beads Holly liked, the ones that netted String Fever a healthy profit. “I’ll be glad to help you with some ideas after the store opens later today, if you don’t mind coming back.”

“No problem. I’ve got nothing else on my schedule today.”

Oh, that she could say the same. Claire summoned another smile. “I’ll try to call you after the police clear the store for me to reopen.”

“You’re so sweet to me. Thank you so much, Claire.”

Before she quite knew what she intended, Holly grabbed her in a hug and Claire had no real choice but to endure it and even hug her back a little before she quickly eased out of the embrace.

She didn’t really dislike Holly. The situation was just so awkward, living in the same town with her and Jeff, bumping into each other all the time, sharing concentric circles of friends.