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“Even if the images aren’t clear, I’d still like to see the film,” the inspector insisted.
“No,” I said, my sense of exasperation growing, “I mean the cameras weren’t operating at the time.”
“Is that normal?” The inspector gave me a perplexed look. “The store had just closed, correct?”
“It is not normal,” I confirmed. “The cameras are supposed to film twenty-four hours a day.” My IT company and security company worked together on that system. Someone had dropped the ball, which was another strike against the IT company. Either they really were as incompetent as Zach had said, or something sinister was at play with them. Were the cameras intentionally disabled at just the right time? My computer forensics expert might be able to answer that question, given time.
“I’ll notify the police department of my findings today so they can begin their investigation. They will canvass the street to see if anyone saw something, but the chances are slim. My official report will be ready in a few days. You’ll need it for your insurance company.” He handed me a business card. “Call me if you have questions.”
“Thank you.” I watched him walk out, ducking under the yellow caution tape as he went.
I kept busy throughout the day checking on my employees, answering questions for a police investigator, and sifting through the rubble until my hands were covered in ash. Frustration set in at the hopelessness of it all. I was getting nowhere, and whoever was targeting me had scored a hit—a bull’s-eye.
I had to put a stop to this, take action in some way, despite my promise to Zach the night before. How could I stay out of it when I was ankle deep in the remains of my family’s business? I considered my options, the information I possessed. Something in me still felt my mother’s former business partner was involved. The woman was dead, but a plot to take revenge on All That Sparkles might have been put in place long ago, to be carried out now by someone angry and bitter at the way that Marta’s life had been cut short.
Zach would think my reasoning faulty. And he might be right, but I did have one lead I could follow: Marta Huntly’s last known address. I’d found it before I found the obituary, and I’d plugged it into Google Maps. It was in a run-down neighborhood on the other side of town, a matter of a few miles. I could just take a swing by for the sake of curiosity and see if the woman’s son still lived there—if the house was still standing. Some of those areas were being bulldozed to get rid of urban blight. But if he was there and I could speak with him, maybe I could put my suspicions to rest and see for myself that the Huntly family didn’t have anything to do with my troubles.
I left the store and walked down the block to where I’d parked my car. I worried about leaving the structure unprotected, but what could I do? Plywood now covered the gaping holes where windows and the door once stood. At the moment, that was the best we could do. At least the vault was undamaged—and as for the rest, there really wasn’t anything worth stealing.
Once in my car and headed across town, I had second thoughts about going against Zach’s wishes. He’d asked for time to get a team together. To assuage my guilt, I picked up my phone. I’d call him and ask him to meet me at the address. But my call was forwarded to his employer’s home office, where an efficient-sounding woman informed me that, unless this was an emergency, Zach Vale was unavailable due to his current assignment. It wasn’t an emergency, and I wouldn’t make that claim, so I hung up without leaving a message.
I continued negotiating the maze of streets taking me to the grittier side of town. I hadn’t exactly grown up in the lap of luxury—things had been tight after Mom and Dad split up, especially in the early days of All That Sparkles when Mom was still working to build up a customer base, but our neighborhood had been comfortable enough. Nothing fancy, but decent houses, well maintained by working-class families who took pride in their homes. The neighborhood I was heading to was far bleaker. It was the part of town where people went when they’d given up.
My thoughts were deteriorating as rapidly as the buildings out my windshield. What if Zach was only with me because of the danger? He might view protecting me and Austin as an assignment. Once we were safe, what was his motivation for sticking around? He’d become tired of the routine of family life and seek the next adventure. God, I couldn’t go through losing him again, and I wouldn’t put Austin through it either.
I tried to pull myself together. The man who’d made love to me the night before hadn’t seemed like he wanted to run from me. If anything, of late he’d insisted he was staying. The niggling doubt, though, took root in my brain.
Later. I’d deal with it later, I told myself, as I made the final turn onto a street containing row houses. Most were dilapidated, showing signs of long-term neglect. They seemed deserted, with no signs of life. I pulled to the curb across the street from the house number I remembered from my research.
From my car, I studied the house. Nothing about it suggested someone lived there, except an envelope sticking out of the mailbox. The shutters were falling off, the paint was reduced to a dull gray, and the roof was patched with shingles in multiple colors. What was once a fenced yard now stood open to the street, with weeds chaotically growing among untrimmed shrubs.
This was my only potential lead, though, and I was following it. I opened the car door and stepped onto the cracked concrete of the street. I picked my way across until I stood on the sidewalk in front of the house. Up close, it looked in even worse shape. Age and neglect had worn the place past the point of repair.
A sense of dread descended on me, along with the unmistakable feeling that someone was watching me. I turned to scan the street around me. No one appeared, even though it was late afternoon, a busy time elsewhere in the city. Zach’s caution against putting me in a dangerous situation echoed in my head, making me pause rather than continuing to approach the house.
If my assumptions were right, I could be walking into a confrontation with a very dangerous person—someone willing to hire armed robbers and commit arson. I wanted answers, but the prospect of getting them wasn’t worth my life. That’s what I had promised Zach the night before. I pivoted and jogged back to the car, slamming and locking the door before putting the car into gear and escaping from the street.
A few blocks away, I breathed easier and felt sure I’d done the right thing by retreating. I took the on-ramp to a road that was usually a faster way home. Not today, I realized when brake lights showed ahead of me, and I stopped on the highway. I flipped on the radio, searching for a traffic report. An accident was blocking all lanes half a mile ahead. I was stuck, but I was safe, so I called my mom to let her know that I’d be late picking up Austin.
Rolling down the window, I shut off the engine and waited with the other motorists. Twenty minutes later, my phone rang.
“Hey, sweetheart, my office said you called earlier.” Zach’s voice was concerned.
“I was hoping you could help me with something, but I decided not to do it.”
“Okay…what was it?”
“I’ll explain when I get home,” I said, already dreading his reaction. I knew he wasn’t going to happy when he heard what I’d almost done. “I’m stuck in traffic on the bypass.”
“I’ll pick up Austin, then,” he said.
“That would be great.” It would make things easier for me, since I was running so late.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” He didn’t seem convinced, which said something about his perceptive abilities.
“I am. I’ll be home as soon as this accident is cleared up.” I hung up before he could ask more questions. I’d tell him everything: what motivated me to seek out the address, and what had me running back to my car. He wasn’t going to like any of it.
An hour later, I pulled into my garage. The door leading into the kitchen opened immediately, and Zach stood in the doorway.
