Doesn’t she know she can trust him with anything?

To Butterfly Harbor deputy sheriff Fletcher Bradley, Paige Cooper is a mystery he’s dying to solve. Ever since the single mother and her equally irresistible young daughter showed up, life in his California town has changed for the better. Fletch isn’t sure what Paige is running from; he only knows she’s keeping some pretty serious secrets. Yet here she is, already a vital part of the community and working with him to crack a series of recent break-ins. Paige has to trust someone sometime. Why not Fletch? Doesn’t she know that she belongs here—with him?

“You really are a nice guy, aren’t you?”

Before she could stop herself, Paige walked across the yard and grabbed hold of his arms; solid, muscular arms that tensed at her touch. Looking up at Fletch, memorizing every inch of his handsome face, from that slight twitch as he fought a grin to the amused glint in his sea green eyes, she stopped thinking.

Without breathing, without worrying, Paige stretched up on her toes and very softly, very carefully, pressed her lips to his.

What she’d thought was an expression of gratitude shifted in the blink of an eye, in the flex of his fingers. She held on to him even as his hands moved and settled lightly on her hips. He didn’t take; he didn’t demand. He let her lead wherever she wanted to take them.

Until she realized she couldn’t go where she wanted.

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Butterfly Harbor. I’ve been looking forward to writing Paige and Charlie Cooper’s story since they first walked into the Butterfly Diner back in book one (The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor). They were both a surprise, characters I never expected to exist. When they stepped onto the page they did so with a wink, a smile and most definitely some secrets. Above all, they arrived searching for what so many of us want: a place to call home. But Charlie wants a bit more than that. She wants a dad, and this determined eight-year-old has her sights set on Deputy Fletcher Bradley.

Whenever I begin a story, I’m usually pretty certain whose story it is: the heroine, or in this case, Paige, a woman doing her best to protect her only child from the mistakes she’s made. Or maybe it’s the hero, Fletcher, who struggles with being thought of as a hero, especially when his own failure as a young man changed his family’s future forever. There’s usually a leaning one way or the other. But as I wrote, I realized this was the first story where a third person was equally important: a little girl desperate for the same family stability her best friend has. She wants—she needs—someone other than her mother to count on, to love her.

I’m a firm believer in family, and not just the kind we’re connected to by blood. My friends are my family, and they’re who I think of whenever I come back to Butterfly Harbor. I love that we can choose our tribe, that we can thrive in communities we might not have been born into but that we find along the way. Taking that one unexpected turn (or in Paige’s case, a highway turnoff) can give you all you’ve ever wanted—and needed—in life. I hope you enjoy Paige and Fletcher (and Charlie’s) journey to their happily-ever-after.

Anna J.

A Dad for Charlie

Anna J. Stewart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Bestselling author ANNA J. STEWART can’t remember a time she wasn’t making up stories or imaginary friends. Raised in San Francisco, she quickly found her calling as a romance writer when she discovered the used bookstore in her neighborhood had an entire wall dedicated to the genre. Her favorites? Harlequins, of course. A generous owner had her refilling her bag of books every Saturday morning, and soon her pen met paper and she never looked back (much to the detriment of her high school education). Anna currently lives in Northern California, where she continues to write up a storm, binge watches her favorite TV shows and movies and spends as much time as she can with her family and friends…and her cat, Snickers, who, let’s face it, rules the house.

For all the Charlie Coopers

May you find your forever dad.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

“WHAT DO YOU think that’s all about?”

From where he sipped his beer, Deputy Bradley Fletcher pulled his attention from the besotted bride and groom and followed his fellow deputy’s curious gaze across the expansive—and newly landscaped—roundabout of the Flutterby Inn.

Every nerve ending in his body fired against the cool Pacific breeze coming in off the ocean beyond the nearby cliffs. Over the din of conversation and the ever-so-faint tunes of a four-piece string quartet emanating from inside the landmark hotel, the nerve-racking sound of waves crashing against the rocks echoed in his ears. He shifted position, his knuckles going white around the bottle. How, after over fifteen years of living in the oceanside town of Butterfly Harbor, could the sound of the ocean still fill him with dread?

As he caught sight of Gil Hamilton chatting it up with a neighboring town sheriff, the anxiety and unease slipped to the back of his mind.

If there was one talent Fletch had honed in his thirty-one years it was his ability to know when someone—especially a suspicious someone—was up to something.

And there were few people in Butterfly Harbor more suspicious than their very own mayor.

“Excellent question.” Grateful for something to concentrate on other than his personal demons, Fletch straightened and tugged down the edge of his rented tuxedo jacket.

“Heard Mr. Mayor is getting a little anxious about the upcoming election,” Ozzy said in his own lowered voice. “With more than a year out, I don’t think Gil expected Luke to declare his intention to run for sheriff again quite this soon.”

“Gil isn’t a fan of anyone he can’t manipulate and control.” One of the reasons Luke Saxon had earned Fletch’s respect within his first few hours on the job had been the way he’d stood up to their former classmate turned boss. The onetime Chicago Bomb Squad officer didn’t take anything from anyone; not even the mayor who had reluctantly appointed him over his personal choice of the man he was currently speaking to. “Gil might put on a good show, but he hates the fact Luke’s approval ratings are higher than his. Even in a town this small.”

“You think Gil wants to talk Sean into running? You think Gil’s coming after Luke?”

“He wouldn’t be his father’s son if he didn’t.” Far across the manicured grounds of the iconic landmark hotel, Sheriff Sean Brodie gave the mayor a toothy grin. His chuckle carried across the breeze of the perfect late summer day and rankled the last nerve Fletch managed to hold on to. “Timing can’t be a coincidence,” Fletch said. “Not with Luke heading out of town on his honeymoon. I recognize an ambush when I see it.”

“What kind of ambush?”

“Another excellent question.” Fletch toasted his fellow groomsman and took a step away to grab two more bottles. “How about I go find out?”

“Fletcher.” Ozzy’s wide eyes grew even larger in his round face. The youngest and most rotund of Butterfly Harbor’s three deputies might be the smartest of them when it came to all the advancements in law enforcement, but he wasn’t exactly the diplomat of the group. Not that Fletch was much better, but he had half a lifetime of experience with their head politician.

“Don’t worry, Oz.” Fletch patted Ozzy on the shoulder. “I won’t do anything to cause a scene.” His only goal was to stave off any potential controversy that would mar Holly and Luke’s wedding. As best man, it was his job to make sure the happy couple’s day went off without a hitch.

As Butterfly Harbor’s longest-serving deputy, it was his obligation to protect the town and everyone in it.

Fletch maneuvered his way around people he’d known ever since he and his sister had come to live with their grandfather right before freshman year of high school. Shop owners and residents turned friendly faces, smiled at him and waved as he passed, the gushing comments and well-wishes echoing in his ears. There was little Bradley Fletcher enjoyed more than a big community event like the celebration today. Unless it was watching two of his favorite people find their way to happily-ever-after.

Not that he’d ever voice that out loud. Closet romantic that he was, Fletch would be more than content to take that particular character quirk of his all the way to the grave.

As he approached the two men—both of whom he’d had the displeasure of traversing his dodgy teenage years with—Fletch caught a flash of suspicion in the mayor’s eyes. Yep. Gil was definitely up to something.

When the suspicion faded and slipped into that familiar, over-wide, simpering smile on the face of a man who, by all rights, should be chilling out on a surfboard riding the waves far below them, Fletch shifted into what some of the kids in town would have called superhero mode.

Sans billowing red cape, of course. Fletch didn’t do capes.

“Mr. Mayor. Sheriff.” The title nearly caught in Fletch’s throat, but he was going to play nice with their neighboring town’s head of law enforcement. For now. “Pretty good turnout, wouldn’t you say?” He handed them each a beer and lifted his own in a mock toast. “Don’t think anyone stayed home today. Always great to see how much the town supports its local heroes.”

“I wouldn’t call almost getting himself blown up by a psychopath being a hero.” Sean Brodie’s dark eyes narrowed as he took a long drink. “Rex Winters did have some friends, you know.”

Fletch forced a smile onto his lips. So much for playing nice. “As difficult as that is to believe, yes, I am aware. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Winters. Some of those firearms Rex had in his possession, we haven’t been able to trace where he got them. Any ideas?”

“I really don’t see where this is the time or place to discuss closed cases,” Gil interrupted. “Whatever Rex Winters was up to died with him. Was there something you needed, Deputy?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Fletch nodded as he drank. “Yes, actually. Luke mentioned you scheduled a meeting with him on Friday. Something about the string of break-ins and vandalisms we’ve been having.”

“With both Luke and Sean here, I did, yes.” Gil barely twitched. “I think it best to be kept up on the ongoing investigation, especially given these crimes are affecting both our communities. I was sorry to hear Luke won’t be able to make the only time I have open.”

“You mean because he’ll be on the honeymoon he planned a month ago and you only asked him to meet two days ago? Yeah. Funny how that worked out.” Fletch’s fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle. There was the spin he’d been waiting for. “Would you excuse us for a moment, Sean?”

“Of course.” A coolness crept into Sean’s shifty eyes.

“I have to hand it to you.” Fletch managed to maneuver the mayor to a clear spot away from both the steep stairway down to the beach and the throng of party guests. As his ears cleared and his mind eased, he slipped into uniform mode. “You never cease to amaze me, Gil.”

“How’s that?”

Funny how Fletch could see that rich-kid “I dare you to stop me now” face in the eyes of the man Hamilton had become. Fletch didn’t like Gil any more now than he did the first day he’d met him. Of course Gil and his buddies had been in midbully session and slamming one of their smaller bespectacled classmates into a bank of lockers at the time. That didn’t make for a good first impression. “You never have any problem going behind people’s backs to get what you want. Yet here you are, celebrating Luke’s wedding and the entire time you’re commiserating with your longtime buddy about how to oust Luke while he’s on his honeymoon.”

“I think you’re reading a bit too much into two men talking,” Gil said without looking at him. “If Luke isn’t able to make the meeting—”

“You want an update on the case you should talk to me, seeing as I’m the one in charge of it.” Fletch watched Gil’s eyes widen at his lie. “Luke handed it off to me a few days ago. Must have slipped his mind to tell you with all he’s had going on. He wants to make sure someone will follow through while he’s gone. So if you had thoughts of bringing your buddy in to take over our side of things, you can forget it. I’m more than capable of keeping Luke’s seat warm for him.”

Gil tilted his head and looked at him for a good five seconds before saying, “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were vying for Luke’s job yourself.”

“But you do know me, Gil.” The last thing Fletch wanted was a promotion. He was more than happy in his current position despite the sudden necessity to be anything other than honest. If there was one thing Fletch couldn’t abide, it was a liar. And he was standing in front of one of the best in the business. “You also know the lengths I’ll go to in order to protect my friends.”

Gil’s face went blank. “I assume you and Luke have discussed the case in detail then. You know he’s only a few pieces of evidence away from issuing an arrest warrant for Jasper O’Neill?”

“Of course.” Fletch swallowed more beer along with the sudden unease. Jasper O’Neill? Okay, how had that kid’s name come into this? Jasper was an odd one for sure. And he’d had a few run-ins with them over the years. A few breakings and enterings, loitering and other nonviolent charges. But nothing that led Fletcher to believe he’d do something of this magnitude. The destruction of property alone would carry a felony charge.

Then again, one of Jasper’s best friends was currently doing an eight-month stretch in juvenile detention. Who knew what vacuum that left in their, for want of a better term, social circle. Fletch didn’t want to believe Jasper was involved in anything that would put more stress on his family; the O’Neills had been dealt more than their share of hardships lately.

But what Fletch got to believe and what was the truth... Well. He knew better than most you didn’t always get to choose which came out on top.

Fletch glanced over his shoulder to where his boss and friend smiled at his new bride. Why hadn’t Luke said anything to his deputies about his suspicions?

“Luke and I are completely on the same page.” Fletch pushed the words out of his mouth before he changed his mind. “I plan to follow the evidence while he’s gone wherever it leads. If Jasper’s responsible, I’ll make sure he’s punished for it.”

“It’s good to know our sheriff is leaving the town in excellent hands,” Gil said. “Wouldn’t want the failure of one of his deputies affecting the election.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that.” How was it the urge to sink his fist into Gil Hamilton’s solar plexus didn’t diminish over time?

“Of course, it’s still early,” Gil said. “There’s plenty of time for damage control should things go awry.”

“You would know about damage control. Speaking of jeopardizing things.” Fletch glanced to his right and raised his glass in acknowledgment of Harvey Mills, the local hardware store owner who was commiserating with a group of town volunteers working out their next community fundraiser. “I hear you’re just about ready to decide on the final site for the butterfly sanctuary. A lot of people aren’t overly pleased with your preferred choice of location. Duskywing Farm could be a destination spot on its own. You don’t have to encroach onto its property to enhance your own agenda.”

“You do hear a lot.” Gil had become the master of the unreadable politician’s expression. “No decision has been finalized as of yet. The town council will get their say. Making unpopular choices is part of the job of an elected official, Deputy Bradley. I’ll do what’s best for Butterfly Harbor. Always have.”

“Like when you kicked more than a dozen families out of their homes last year? Yeah, sounds like what’s best to me. You know what wouldn’t be best for you?” Fletch leaned in close, much in the way he’d seen Sean Brodie do earlier. He lowered his voice, enunciated every word so there was no mistaking his meaning. “Ousting a sheriff everyone in the county limits loves. Just something to keep in mind as you move forward.” He clinked his bottle against Gil’s. “See you Friday morning.”

* * *

“MOM, DO YOU think next week we can finally go look for those ocean caves Mrs. Hastings told me about?”

“What? Charlotte Rose, don’t you dare!” Paige Cooper steered her almost eight-year-old daughter away from the wedding cake before a baby pink rose found its way onto Charlie’s finger. “We’ll have to see about the caves.” Paige’s schedule these days barely gave her enough time to breathe, but she knew at some point she’d have to find time to quell her daughter’s curiosity about one of Butterfly Harbor’s more mysterious legends. Something about ocean caves, a treasure box and your heart’s true desire. She supposed it was only a matter of time before her normally practical, well-reasoned daughter had her head turned by a fairy tale. No treasure box could solve life’s problems. “The caves aren’t going anywhere.” Wherever they were.

Charlie sighed in a more dramatic way than normal. “You always say we’ll see. School starts pretty soon and I want to see them before...oh. Hey, Mom? Why’s Willa crying?”

“Where do you see Willa?” Paige cast a cursory glance around Flutterby Dreams, the recently renovated restaurant turned reception hall for the day, but saw nothing but familiar friendly faces crowded together.

“Over there, by the window. With Mrs. O’Neill.” Charlie flashed that cheeky gap-toothed smile that always hit Paige dead center of her heart. “And why can’t I have a flower? I’m the flower girl. Holly won’t mind. I helped pick out the cake, remember?”

Paige remembered. She also remembered the techno-colored puke fest that followed and proved her sweet-toothed child had a sugar threshold after all. “Choosing a cake doesn’t give you frosting flower privileges.” She tugged Charlie into the corner of the room and stooped down to poof up the daisy yellow dress that had been accentuated with tiny embroidered monarch butterflies by, of all people, Willa O’Neill. What that young woman could do with a needle was pure magic.

Paige’s chest tightened as she located the young woman bending down to straighten the lightweight blanket around her mother Nina’s thin legs. As she stood, she swiped an angry hand across her damp cheeks. Nina pressed her hand against her daughter’s cheek, her lips moving in what Paige assumed were words of comfort from her wheelchair.

Paige fought the desire to inquire as to their distress even as she reminded herself it wasn’t any of her business. But how could she not ask? Helping people was second nature to Paige—a compulsion. A compulsion that had gotten her into trouble most of her life. That said...Paige pursed her lips. She didn’t like to see anyone upset, especially not on a celebratory day like today.

Paige gave her daughter another once-over. With a crown of carnations and daisies in her long red hair—it had taken bribing Charlie with a trip to the bookstore to get her to forgo her trademark pigtails—her little adventurer was pretty as a picture. Tears misted Paige’s eyes as she glanced down at the new neon pink sneakers on Charlie’s feet. Her kid definitely had personality plus.

“Mom, you’re doing it again.” Charlie rolled her eyes at what she called Paige’s “sappy” expression. “Can I go find Simon now?”

“I think they’re still taking pictures.” Pictures Paige had been trying to avoid for the last hour. She took a long, steadying breath as the knots that formed in her chest last summer tightened to the point of suffocation. Two months to go. In two months she could stop looking over her shoulder; she could stop worrying about having her picture showing up...anywhere.

All she had to do was keep her head down, stay off everyone’s radar and ride out the consequences of the worst decision of her life.

Not that she could avoid the photographs forever. Holly deserved the perfect day, no matter Paige’s previous lack of judgment. “Hey, there’s Calliope and Stella.” Paige gestured to the bell-laced gypsy-like woman and her much younger sister maneuvering through the town residents who had turned up for the long-awaited nuptials. Between the crowd inside the inn and the group outside, Paige was pretty sure just about everyone in town had come out to join the celebration. “Why don’t you head on out and I’ll catch up.”

“’Kay.” That her daughter was immediately engulfed by compliments on her stellar flower girl performance had Charlie flying almost as high as her favorite winged insect.

If Paige had any doubts about extending their stay in Butterfly Harbor, she only had to look at Charlie to dismiss them. Her daughter had always been a friendly kid, but she’d blossomed in the months since their arrival. Moving on was always difficult. Moving on from Butterfly Harbor—if they had to—would be downright impossible. Not to mention heartbreaking, especially for Charlie. Speaking of breaking hearts...

Paige bit the inside of her cheek as she gave in to temptation and shifted around guests toward Willa O’Neill.

“Smile!” Melina Sorento, her mass of tight black curls bouncing around her round, curious face, snapped her camera phone and caught Paige unaware. “Thanks, Paige. We’re featuring the wedding in next weekend’s edition of The Monarch Gazette. Nothing Butterfly Harbor likes more than a party, right? Especially one that closes down the entire town!”

“Right.” And there was nothing Paige detested more than being a headline. Then again, she didn’t have much to worry about considering the town paper’s circulation was limited to the guests in attendance. No one back in New York would ever know. Paige swallowed hard. She hoped.

“Willa?” Paige placed a gentle hand on the young woman’s arm; not gentle enough apparently, as Willa jumped, color popping into her cheeks as she spun to face Paige. “I’m so sorry I startled you. Are you all right? Nina? How are you doing today? I’m so pleased to see you here.”

“Nothing was going to keep me from seeing Holly Campbell get married.” Nina brushed a nervous hand over her tropical-colored-scarf-encased head. The months of chemotherapy had taken their toll, from what Paige had been told. In the little time Paige had known the family, she’d seen a serious decline in the older woman’s health, the result of a late-stage breast cancer diagnosis. “I was just telling Willa how nice it is to be out among friends. I feel almost normal.”

“You look beautiful.” Paige rested a hand on her frail shoulder and gave a slight squeeze. “I don’t mean to pry, but is everything all right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Willa pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded once. “Everything’s great.”

Paige glanced from daughter to mother. Nope. Not buying it. “Is there anything I can do?”

“It’s Jasper,” Nina said and earned a huff of frustration from her twenty-something daughter. “Willa, you know this situation is getting beyond our control. Paige might have some ideas as to what we should do.”

“I’d be happy to try to help,” Paige offered. “How about we find a quiet place where we can talk?” As well-meaning as their fellow Butterfly Harbor residents tended to be, they definitely had a talent for whipping up the rumor mill where anything potentially scandalous was concerned. Knowing what Paige did about Willa’s brother Jasper, scandal could very well be a possibility. “Have you seen the updated kitchen yet?” She shifted her way behind Nina’s wheelchair, released the brakes and pushed her around the edge of the room toward the double swinging doors. “The new owners really did it up nice.”

“We haven’t, but we’ve heard it’s beautiful.” Nina tugged at the edge of her scarf.

“It’s definitely a stunner. Willa, would you mind?”

“Of course.” Willa pressed her slight frame through the doors first, stepping back to let Paige push Nina through.

Pale yellow bridesmaid gown tucked into one hand, Paige headed toward the side porch exit, offering a smile to resident chef Jason Corwin, who was bent over the counter. “Hey, Jason. Don’t mind us. Just passing through.”

“Wasn’t going to.” Jason glanced up from where he piped salmon mousse into delicate phyllo dough cups. With shorn dark hair and eyes as sharp as the edge of a knife, Jason looked more like a magazine cover model than a onetime celebrity chef. “Mrs. O’Neill.” He nodded politely at Nina then Willa. “Hey, Paige, when you see Abby, would you send her back? I need a taster for one of the appetizers.”

“What am I? Chopped...” She grinned when his brow arched in her direction. “Chicken. I was going to say chicken. I’m an excellent taster.” She motioned for Willa to open the door.

“Uh-huh.” Jason grinned. “Keep moving. You’re not getting your hands on any of my new recipes.”

“That’s what he thinks,” Paige whispered to Nina, who let out a soft chuckle. What Paige wouldn’t give to pick the brain of one of the country’s top food artisans. The midafternoon breeze welcomed them as she situated Nina’s wheelchair by the narrow bench overlooking the ocean. She took a deep breath, let the pure salt-caked air refill her lungs and clear her mind. “Now, tell me what’s going on. No one should be crying anything but happy tears at a wedding.”

Willa wilted onto the bench beside her mother. She was a tiny thing with one of the kindest natures Paige had ever encountered. She also had a spine of steel. Rarely did Paige see Willa with anything other than a brilliant smile on her thin face despite the weight of responsibility she carried on her shoulders.

“Sheriff Saxon called asking if he could come by to talk to Jasper again,” Willa said. “About those break-ins.”

“Again?” Paige sat beside her and, because Willa seemed to need the added comfort, took hold of her hand and squeezed. “Why?”

“He wouldn’t say. Exactly. You know the sheriff,” Nina said when Willa shook her head. “He’s very nice about it, very understanding, but this time, I don’t know. I got the feeling they haven’t moved past thinking Jasper’s somehow involved. Last time he asked Jasper to account for his whereabouts on a bunch of different evenings.”

“And was Jasper able to?” Paige asked.

“No. In fact he was out almost all those nights,” Willa said with an air of defiance that had Paige’s insides jangling. “He’s out most every night. Jasper might have his quirks, but this isn’t something he’d do. He knows the last thing we need is for him to get into trouble.”

“You said Luke only talked to him,” Paige said. “He didn’t say anything about a warrant or being there to arrest him?”

“No. But I’m sure that’s what’s about to happen. He’s only sixteen, Paige. He can’t afford to get into serious trouble if he hopes to apply for scholarships and grants for college. They look into all that.” Nina seemed to be taking the situation better than her oldest daughter. “This puts his entire future at risk.”

Paige squeezed her hand. “What do you think of Luke’s idea he’s involved with the break-ins?”

“I’m his mother,” Nina said, her pale face losing what little color it possessed. She tucked her trembling hands under her blanket. “I don’t want it to be true. But I’m also a realist.” She straightened in her chair, the bright blue of her dress catching against the sun. “He’s been through a lot these last few years. It’s...changed him. There are times I think he’s just so angry, withdrawn. And he’s never kept company with the best of influences.”

“He’s always got his nose in a book. Or he’s in his room watching those gruesome videos,” Willa explained when Paige inclined her head. “I suggested he look for a job, but he doesn’t think anyone around here will hire him. And he’s probably right. He rubs people the wrong way.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s so far gone he’d take to damaging property and vandalism,” Nina said. “He wouldn’t do that to me. To us. Not now. The last thing we can afford is bail, let alone a lawyer.”

“That’s the second time one of you has said ‘not now,’” Paige said, recognizing grief when she heard it. “What’s changed?”

Willa’s eyes filled as she looked at her mother before glancing away.

“My latest test results came back last week,” Nina said after she cleared her throat. “They say the cancer’s spread to my lymph nodes. The chemotherapy didn’t do as much as they’d hoped, so they’re putting me on an experimental regimen. But that means going to San Francisco and being admitted for four to six weeks.” Nina shook her head as if to clear her own tears. “It’ll be tough. Willa will have to take on even more than she already has. Maisey’s only ten. I want her life as disrupted as little as possible. She’s a dream and little trouble, thank goodness, but—”

“Jasper being under suspicion with the police is only adding to the strain.” Paige nodded. Oh, boy. She’d heard this before. She should have followed her instincts and stayed far, far away. The last thing she should be thinking about was getting involved with anything having to do with the police. “Did Luke give you any more information about the crimes themselves? Maybe if I talked to Jasper...”

Mother and daughter looked at each other again. “We haven’t seen or heard from Jasper since we got Mom’s results,” Willa said. “He took off. I don’t know what Luke’s going to think if he shows up trying to talk to him in person. I’m sure he’ll take that as more evidence of his guilt.”

“If Jasper did these things, he did them,” Nina said. “It’s something we need to come to terms with. We’ll deal with whatever happens.”

“And what if he is innocent?” Willa asked. “Mom, what if he’s a convenient scapegoat? There are plenty of bored kids around town, not to mention frustrated adults with just as many grudges,” Willa added as Paige assumed she was talking about the still new teen community center. “Why are they focused on Jasper? Because he’s different? Because he sees things in a way different from the rest of us?”

Because Jasper O’Neill walked around Butterfly Harbor looking like death’s less optimistic minion? Paige had met Jasper only a handful of times. He was quiet, sure. Introspective, one might think. But if appearances were any indication, there was also the way he embraced the black clothes and had jet-black hair that covered equally dark eyes. And then there was the attitude he wore like a second skin. Yeah. Paige could understand why he was at the top of the list. That didn’t mean he was guilty.

“If this was anyone other than Luke Saxon we were talking about I’d be inclined to agree with you.” Paige had little to no faith in law enforcement, but that was because of her own personal bias. Luke was one of the reasons she still had some. “You know Luke’s own history. He’d never railroad someone just because they look the part or it’s the easy way out. He goes by the evidence.” What that evidence might be, however, was the question. She could probably find out. A few questions here and there, if only to put Nina’s and Willa’s minds at ease...

What was she thinking, getting involved? Just moments ago she’d been reminding herself to keep her head down, and now she was considering poking around an active criminal investigation?

She should get up and walk away. Luke was a good man. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt this family; not if he could help it. And yet...

Paige wasn’t one to turn her back on people who needed help. She could do this. Carefully, quietly. Yeah. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She could do this. “I have some pull with the groom.” Paige’s heart leaped ahead of her brain. “Let me poke around a little. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. Maybe they’ve found something that exonerates him and just haven’t let you know yet.”

“We can’t ask you to do that,” Willa said. “You have so much going on already.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. And I always have time for friends,” Paige said. “Your family has a serious fight ahead of you. The last thing any of you need is a distraction. All your energy needs to be going to getting you better, Nina. If I can help make things a little easier, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“You’ll talk to Luke for us?” Willa’s disbelief scraped against Paige’s heart. “You’ll try to convince him Jasper’s not involved?”

“I’ll do my best.” A promise she felt pretty confident she could keep. Dealing with Luke was easy enough, and thankfully he’d taken the lead. Now, if she had to try to extricate information from Deputy Fletcher Bradley...

Paige shivered. Oh, well, that would be a whole other story.

Handsome, attentive, charming Deputy Bradley Fletcher. How many times had she felt herself getting sucked into the attraction vortex that seemed to develop whenever she got into his orbit? She’d gone out of her way to avoid him, especially after realizing he was just as interested in her. Not that he’d pushed or tried to insert himself into her life; just the opposite. He seemed to respect the fact she wanted to keep her distance. Which, of course, made him all the more appealing. The kicker was he was so good with Charlie; he flipped all those switches inside her that made her wish everything about her life was different.

Nope. Paige gave herself a hard mental shake. That train of thought needed to be derailed immediately. As uncertain as Paige was about a lot of things in her life, she knew one thing for sure: no matter how appealing the good deputy might be, anything other than a cursory friendship was absolutely impossible.

Because a lawman like him would never understand a fugitive like her.

CHAPTER TWO

“FASTER, DEPUTY FLETCH! Spin me faster!”

Charlie Cooper’s demanding squeal lightened Fletcher’s heavy heart. Taking the political hit for his friend was one thing; needing to go after a member of an already overburdened family he’d known most of his life was another. The O’Neills had so much to deal with already. How could he even think about sacrificing one of their own to save his friend’s career?

No wonder Luke hadn’t said much about the investigation. He probably felt as conflicted as Fletcher did.

“I think that’s fast enough.” Fletch found himself laughing as Charlie released his hand and tottered dizzily on her sneakered feet. He caught her around the waist before she fell into the lush flower bed in front of the Flutterby Inn. He steadied her and glanced up as Paige Cooper exited the inn. She stopped short on the edge of the porch, her knowing, beautiful blue eyes glistening almost as brightly as her recently changed hair. The now strawberry blond tresses with hints of fire matched those of her daughter’s, except where Charlie’s was razor straight, Paige’s tumbled around her shoulders in thick, glossy waves. She was girl-next-door pretty, with that radiant smile of hers and a small dimple in her left cheek. All of that seemed so surface, but it was all he had. Despite the overwhelming desire to know more.

Every time he saw her was like the first time. And that first time...

Whew. He felt the rush of heat in his face. That first time it was as if Fletch had been tackled by the entire defensive line of his high school football team. He did his best and tried to maintain his cool and keep a straight face around her. He wasn’t a man prone to feeling, well, flummoxed.

And Paige Copper definitely flummoxed him.

He also found her utterly fascinating. She was always helping people, always doing something. She wasn’t one to just sit back and wait for things to happen. She made them happen. His interest confused him, but that was the case with any mystery that crossed his path. How could he be so fascinated and yet so...in the dark? Talk about a puzzle begging to be solved.

The air around him stilled and she released the soft yellow of her summer bridesmaid dress, the gauzy fabric draping over her pretty form.

He blinked. There were times he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Then there were others where all he wanted was to talk to her; get to know her, learn about her. Discover whatever secrets he was convinced she had.

That she did just about everything she could to avoid him should have stung. Instead, it was like honey to a bee and he couldn’t resist the pull. But he respected her enough—and whatever ghosts she carried with her—to do as she silently asked and kept his distance.

He was a man who not only followed the rules, he lived by them; possibly the only thing stopping him from running a simple background check. Somehow that felt like an invasion; something that if she were to ever find out, she’d never forgive him for. He might not know a lot about her, but he had little doubt she was the kind of woman who valued honesty and truth above all else. He wasn’t about to violate either. He sighed.

So be it. At least Charlie seemed happy to be in his company, and being around Paige’s little girl definitely kept a smile on his face.

Paige’s sparkling gaze landed on him and sent his racing thoughts skidding to a halt. Until she looked past him to where Luke stood watching his wife and her maid of honor hamming it up in front of the camera. Fletch’s smile dipped as Charlie darted out of his grasp. Gil Hamilton wasn’t the only one up to something today.

Paige walked down the stairs and beelined for the sheriff. “Luke? May I have a quick word with you?”

Luke turned, his dark eyes heavy with celebratory happiness. He blinked, nodded. “Sure. What about?”

“It’s about Jasper O’Neill and these break-ins,” Paige said. “I was just speaking to Willa and Nina—”

Luke shifted to full attention, his brow furrowing. “I don’t think—”

“Paige, I need to talk to you.” Fletch locked his hand around Paige’s wrist and spun her toward him. “Wedding stuff. We’ll be back in a second.” He tugged her toward him, ignoring the brief look of panic on her face as he pulled her to the edge of the narrow path leading up to the lookout point. He stopped just shy of being able to see the foam spraying off the crashing waves. He didn’t need that nightmarish roar of the ocean any louder in his ears on top of dealing with Paige.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Paige shivered as a cold breeze shot over them.

Fletcher shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Today isn’t the day to talk about Jasper O’Neill, Paige.”

“Thank you.” Even as he saw her debate rejecting the offer, she clasped her hand around the edges and drew it closed across her chest. The thin gold chain and butterfly charm glistened against the sun and the hollow of her throat. Paige’s eyes narrowed. “Since when is it any of your business what I talk to the sheriff about?”

“Since the break-ins are my case.” For a man who didn’t lie, he seemed to be setting a world record. “Luke asked me to take over. You want to talk about Jasper, you get me.”

“Oh.” She shrugged inside his too-big jacket and twisted her head back and forth. She couldn’t have looked any more thrilled if she’d been handed a rotten egg. “Well. Maybe once he’s back—”

“I’ll have it closed by then.” Boy, he was just digging himself deeper. “What’s this about, Paige? Did Willa and Nina tell you something we should know?” Like where he should start or why Jasper had hit the top of Butterfly Harbor’s Most Wanted List?

“You mean am I going to give you a reason to go chasing after an innocent sixteen-year-old kid who was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time? No.” Her eyes went ice cold. “I’m not.”

Why did Fletch have the feeling she wouldn’t have been so prickly if she’d talked to Luke about this? What was it about him that made her so...hostile? “Who says he’s innocent? His family?”

“Who says he’s guilty? Or what does? Why did Luke question him? What evidence is there against him?”

Had Fletch climbed onto some whirlwind roller coaster without realizing it? He knew Paige tended to jump in whenever anyone needed help, and he admired her for it. But picking up the sword to fight for a kid with Jasper O’Neill’s reputation seemed a stretch even for her. “First, it’s none of your business how we run an investigation, and second, this doesn’t have anything to do with you. And unless you’ve taken up yet another job as a private investigator, there’s nothing about the case I’m going to share with you.”

“So you are going after him.” She puffed up in defiance. “Are you looking at anything other than his record, anemic as that is? Fingerprints at the scenes? Witnesses who saw him loitering around those houses?”

“I’m not talking to a civilian about this.” By the time this day was done he was going to be an expert in bluffing. “I can tell you, and you can assure Nina and Willa, that we’ll take every proper step necessary where Jasper is concerned.”

Her snort of derision had him taking a step back.

“So I was right. You aren’t even considering anyone else.”

He hadn’t anticipated adding irritating as one of the missing pieces to the Paige Cooper puzzle. “It means Jasper is one avenue we’re exploring. And he hasn’t done himself any favors over the years by pushing legal boundaries. If you’re done interrogating me, it looks as if you’re needed for your bridesmaid pictures.”

He motioned toward a frantically waving Abby Manning, blond curls bouncing, her maid-of-honor bouquet of yellow and white roses interspersed with eucalyptus leaves an odd kind of beacon.

“We aren’t done talking about this.” Paige removed his jacket and held it out to him. “I’m not letting you railroad him or his family.”

“No one’s railroading anyone, Paige. I’m a cop. I’m doing my job.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” She may as well have fired lasers at him given that look in her eye before she walked away.

The odd statement rang in his ears as he grabbed a new beer and rejoined his friends.

“That looked intense,” Luke observed when Fletch twisted off the cap so hard he left marks on his fingers. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy.” Fletch shook his head, dismissing his soured mood, and plastered on a congratulatory smile for his boss, the groom. “We can talk about it later. Today’s about you and Holly.” And he had the battle scars to prove it.

“You said it, Fletch.” Burly Matt Knight slapped Luke on the back, but no amount of jostling, it seemed to Fletch, was going to erase that goofy smile off his friend’s face. “Life as you know it is officially over, my friend.”

“Life just got a million times better.” Luke toasted his bride as Simon, Holly’s nearly nine-year-old son by her first marriage, dived toward them and suctioned himself to Luke’s side. “What’s going on, bud?”

“When are we going to eat?” Simon whined. “I’m staaaarving and Jason said he’s making burgers for all us kids.”

“Two helpings of pancakes this morning and you’re hungry.” Luke laughed. “I might need to take a second job to keep the kitchen stocked. Fletch?”

“Yeah?” Fletch couldn’t shake the feeling he’d inadvertently turned over an information-laden rock where Paige’s past was concerned. What on earth had she meant with that parting comment? Why was she taking the situation with Jasper O’Neill so personally? “What did I miss?”

“I think it’s more what we missed,” Ozzy joked as he tugged at the snug cummerbund around his ample waist. “Did you have a nice talk with Paige?”

“You talked to my mom?” Charlie danced from where she’d been circling Simon over to Fletch. She grabbed his hand and twirled again. “Yay! I’ve been hoping you two would be friends. Spin me again, please, Deputy Fletch!”

“Again?” Who needed an upper-body workout when Charlie Cooper was around? The little girl looked like she belonged in his sister’s childhood music box. He let out a dramatic sigh and let her grab hold of his hand. Before he could follow through, Simon leaped toward her and grabbed hold of her arm.

“Come on, Charlie! Let’s go check out the buffet table.”

“Later, Deputy Fletch!” Charlie called and let her best friend pull her away.

“Don’t go far, please,” Luke called after them. “You’re not done with pictures.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them.” Ozzy followed them inside.

“Tell me that woman put us out of our misery and asked you out,” Matt said to Fletch, who couldn’t tear his gaze away from Paige. “Since you haven’t had the guts to ask her yourself.”

“Far from it.” If anyone else had accused him of using a troubled kid as a rung on the professional ladder, he’d have dismissed them in a heartbeat. But Paige Cooper? She’d only increased his fascination. What he knew about her could fill a bullet casing.

Clearly there was more beneath the surface than even he’d imagined.

“What you need, Deputy Bradley,” Luke said, “is a plan of action where romance is concerned. Standing around mooning over her isn’t getting you anywhere.”

“Sitting around mooning isn’t either.” Matt choked on his beer when Fletch slugged him. “Oh, come on, man. I’m surprised you aren’t doodling her name with little hearts or something.”

“I don’t doodle.” He must have it bad if both Matt and Luke were both calling him on his unrequited...love? Fletch tried to dislodge that thought before it solidified. No. That wasn’t possible. But whatever this...thing...was between them, Paige Cooper had just thrown down the gauntlet.

And Fletch was more than happy to pick it up.

CHAPTER THREE

STANDING ON THE bride’s right listening to the click, click, click of the digital camera, Paige wondered just how big a mistake she’d made diving into the O’Neill situation without thinking things through. Story of her life. It didn’t seem to matter her intentions, somehow she always ended up on the wrong end of things.

Only this time things included Deputy Fletcher Bradley.

What kind of luck did she have to have that he was in charge of the break-ins investigation? Of all people? Of all...

Paige blew out a slow, controlled breath. She’d have to be blind not to notice how appealing the deputy was in his khaki uniform, but that was nothing compared with how he looked in all his formal best-man finery.

Her gaze flicked over to him, reason battling against flights of fancy. He was tall enough for her to look up to, and those sea-green eyes of his had all but twinkled as he’d spun her daughter like a top in front of the inn. The genuine smile on his lips accentuated the lean features of his handsome face beneath a cap of wavy doe-brown hair. Boy, she needed to get some things under control. Beginning with her daughter’s growing attachment to the Deputy and ending with Paige’s own...attraction. Never in her life had she ever dealt with a man she couldn’t seem to think straight around. If she was going to keep her promise to Willa and Nina, she’d have to interact with the good deputy in the coming days.

Wasn’t that just a great big piece of terrific?

She recognized that look in Fletch’s eyes when she mentioned Jasper O’Neill. She’d seen the expression on the face of the detective who had questioned her back in New York. The detective who had decided a kid was guilty simply because of his circumstances and history. The same young man whom Paige had gone out of her way to help.

Paige bit the inside of her cheek. Until now she’d thought Fletcher Bradley to be one of the most charming...and honorable men she’d ever met. Open, friendly, honest. Sticking her nose into a situation only to come up against him?

Paige clenched her fists around her bouquet.

Boy, she’d really stepped in it this time. She’d promised Willa and Nina. Following through meant dealing with Fletcher. Somehow she’d have to find a way to make that work and still stay under his speculative radar.

Did he have to sound so logical? She was an outsider. This really wasn’t any of her business. But if she could make the days just a little easier on Jasper’s mother and sister, how could she not jump into the fray? If Deputy Do-Gooder wasn’t going to be forthcoming with more information, clearly she’d have to find out on her own.

“Take a break, ladies,” the photographer called, motioning to his suddenly silent camera.

“Thank goodness.” Holly Campbell, now Saxon, sagged a bit in her tea-length antique lace wedding gown and massaged her cheeks with her fingers. “I can’t feel my face.” The miniature roses and tiny fabric butterflies woven through her shoulder-length brown hair made the diner owner look like a fairy-tale princess come to life; all that was missing were cartoon birds flying around her head.

The just-married couple gazed at each other in a way that made Paige’s stomach hurt.

She’d given up on happily-ever-after even before Charlie’s father died; her one shot at happiness, and of course Paige had somehow found a way to ensure it completely misfired.

As if her eyes had a mind of their own, she found herself glancing at Fletcher before she ducked her head.

She couldn’t let today be about lamenting the past or the choices she’d made. Today was about Holly and Luke’s future. Listening to the roar of the ocean over the other side of the expansive Pacific cliffs, feeling the barest hint of sea spraying mist on her face, Paige had to admit, the day had been perfect.

“I thought maybe you were hiding in the kitchen with Jason a while ago.” Maid of honor Abby swooped around the bride and wrapped an arm around Paige’s waist. On the short side with tumbling blond curls and a generous, radiant smile, the hotel manager was considered Butterfly Harbor’s personal pixie. “Imagine our surprise when we saw you up on the cliff with Deputy Studly.”

“You did not just call him that.” Paige couldn’t help but consider the moniker appropriate.

“Hey, what’s said between bridesmaids stays between bridesmaids, right, Holly?” Abby blinked wide-eyed innocent eyes at her.

“If you say so,” Holly said before she wandered over to Luke, who slipped his arms around his new wife with as little effort as it took for him to breathe.

“Jason said something about needing a taste tester,” Paige said against the rush of happy tears. “Just be careful you don’t accidentally cook anything while you’re in there.” Abby stuck her tongue out at Paige. Paige chuckled. “Even today you couldn’t drag him out of the kitchen, could you?”

“Jason’s still working on the whole public-interaction side of things. We’re lucky he came to the ceremony. But not to worry. I will acclimate him before our wedding day comes.” Abby leaned her head on Paige’s shoulder as they watched the bride and groom interact. “I’m so happy for her.”

“Me, too.”

“That could be you, you know.” Abby squeezed her arm. “All you have to do is give Fletch the all clear—”

“I’m not interested, Abby.” Even as she said it she found it difficult to pull her gaze away from the entertaining view of Fletch hamming it up with his friends. He always seemed to be having a good time. What it must be like to be so unencumbered. So carefree. “Even if I was—”

“Please.” Abby rolled her eyes in the same irritated manner Charlie had a while ago.

“Even if I was,” Paige repeated as her stomach gave an odd little jump, “he’s not my type.”

“He’s a nice guy, he’s got a steady job and he loves your kid.” Abby looked at Paige as if she’d grown an extra head. “Plus he’s quarterback handsome. How is that not any woman’s type?”

“I don’t date cops.” There it was; she’d used her “don’t talk to me about this anymore” tone. “Please stop pushing this, Abby. Yes, I agree. Fletcher is a great guy, but I’m not looking for anyone.” Paige cleared her throat and eased her expression. She had to keep whatever happened between her and Fletcher completely professional. If she had to tick him off to ensure he kept his distance, so be it. “I’ve got Charlie and my jobs—”

“You work too hard.” Holly joined them while she kept an eagle eye on her son as he and Charlie reappeared in time to dance an awkward jig around the photographer’s assistant. “I assume we’re still talking about Fletcher?”

“How about you bask in your own joy right now and leave me alone?” Paige sighed. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that after a few months she’d feel as if she’d known these two women forever. Not that she was complaining. She’d spent most of her life wanting friends, needing them. Her welcome to Butterfly Harbor only proved what Paige had learned early on: life could indeed turn in the blink of an eye.

“Speaking of joy,” she said to Holly. “When are you guys leaving on your honeymoon?”

“Well, we talked about going to San Francisco in a couple of days, but then we figured since Simon’s got a school break in a few weeks—”

“You’re taking Simon on your honeymoon?” Abby balked. “Honey, I love my godson to death, but he’s a definite mood killer.”

“We were thinking about AdventureWorld.” Holly looked between the two of them. “What? Bad idea?”

“Can’t your dad watch him?” Paige asked before Abby could answer honestly.

“He’s taking off on an RV trip with an old friend.” Holly leaned back to where her father, the former sheriff, was helping Abby’s grandmother up the porch steps into the inn. “He’s really looking forward to his first vacation in years. I can’t ask him to postpone.”

“Leave Simon with me,” Abby volunteered. “My hours are flexible enough now I can work around his school schedule. Besides, Jason would love to give Simon a lesson or two with the pressure cooker.”

“Ten bucks says Simon turns the cooker into a space shuttle,” Paige joked about Holly’s wicked-smart son.

“A weeklong slumber party at your place?” Holly shook her head. “I love you, Abby. Why would I subject you to that?”

“Then I’ll take him when she needs a break,” Paige offered. “Charlie has a trundle bed in her room. I don’t mind.” Not a day went by those two weren’t tied at the hip, anyway.

“It’s settled,” Abby said. “Unless Simon has his heart set on going.”

“We hadn’t told him yet,” Holly admitted with a sly smile.

“Because you were hoping one of your best friends would offer another solution?” Abby nudged Holly with her shoulder. “You’re a tricky one, Holly Saxon.”

Holly’s cheeks turned pink. “I’ll talk to Luke tonight.”

“Talk to him tomorrow,” Paige corrected, her pulse giving a bit of a kick when she caught Fletch watching her. “Why does he do that to me?” She didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud until she found Holly and Abby grinning at her. “What?”

“You only noticed he was looking at you because you were watching him.” Holly touched a hand to one of the flowers in her hair. “I don’t understand why you don’t give him a chance.”

“I’m not asking you to understand,” Paige said as kindly as she could. “I’m just asking you to respect it.”

Paige didn’t take chances. Not anymore. Chances were what got her into trouble; taking a chance was what had her leaving her home in the middle of the night and high-tailing it across the country with her daughter. Charlie was already paying a price for Paige’s lack of judgment. She wasn’t about to add Fletcher Bradley to the mix. Any response she might have given her friends evaporated as the photographer waved them over.

Charlie’s laugh eased the tension racing through Paige as the assistant arranged the hems of their dresses. Paige looked over to where Luke and his other deputy-ushers finally got to twist open their beers. But it was seeing Fletcher bend down to straighten Charlie’s flower crown that made Paige’s breath catch. Abby was right. He was great with her daughter and Charlie had a serious case of hero worship going on.

Fletch laughed as Charlie grabbed his hand and twirled herself like a ballerina.

“Yeah, guy like that, totally not your type.” Abby leaned across Holly then frowned when the photographer ordered her to stand up straight. “But fine. I won’t say another word.”

Holly actually snorted.

Paige struggled to keep her smile in place, wishing she was wrong to keep Fletch at a distance. What she wouldn’t give to trust herself, to confide. To believe...

But she couldn’t. The secrets she held were too dangerous to share, when Charlie’s future was at stake. She couldn’t come clean. Not with her friends, not with anyone. Especially not with Fletcher Bradley.

* * *

PAIGE NEARLY STOMPED on the ragged bundle of flowers she found on the doorstep early the next morning. “What on earth?” She stooped down and scooped up the wilted daisies and sprigs of lavender that, despite their haggard appearance, gave off a subtle, relaxing aroma. No card, no note. Just flowers.

Picking up the anemic town newspaper, Paige leaned over the railing to peer around the corner toward Monarch Lane. No one around, just as expected. The stores and businesses were still closed, and there were no people wandering around town, nor friends meeting, groups organizing and kids racing between the bookstore to try to see past the still-boarded windows of the soon-to-reopen arcade. She loved this place. Especially this time of day, before anyone else was up.

Before the town came back to life.

The diner doors opened early, and it was near impossible to be late when Paige lived in the one-bedroom apartment above the Butterfly Diner. Not that that was why Holly had insisted she and Charlie take up residence here. Holly’s offer had been exactly what Paige needed at the time: a new start. But the generous no-rent opportunity had instilled a definite sense of goodwill and obsessiveness when it came to Paige’s friend and boss’s business.

The longer she stayed here, the longer they stayed, the bigger the risk became. They should have left weeks ago and put some distance between them and Butterfly Harbor. Placing herself in jeopardy was one thing; if Charlie hadn’t been part of the equation she never would have left New York in the first place. She’d have owned up to her mistake and taken her punishment. But that was before she’d been threatened with losing her daughter.

The banked fire of anger and resentment continued to burn. Why was hindsight always twenty/twenty? How many times did she wish she could go back and do...everything over again? But it was too late. She’d made her choices.

But no way was Charlie going to pay for them.

Two months. That’s all she needed.

And with that, she pushed the fear and regret aside and settled into the day, beginning with a last glance down the street.

Butterfly Harbor wasn’t exactly a hub of activity this time of year, but most residents didn’t hold down three part-time jobs like Paige. She’d gotten used to five hours of sleep back in school, and her internal clock had never reset. Not something she’d passed along to her daughter, who would sleep her life away if Paige didn’t drag her out of bed every morning.

She closed the door, set the flowers on the table and bent down to pull her ready bag out for her morning check as was her habit ever since she’d been in care. The essentials were always packed to go: clothes, spare medications, a good chunk of cash—Paige didn’t use credit cards or checks which made getting paid interesting—a framed photo of Charlie when she was a baby. Anything else, they could pick up on the way, like the odds and ends that decorated the small apartment her friend had cleaned up just for her.

Paige yelped when Charlie wandered into the doorway of her bedroom wiping the sleep from her heavy-lidded eyes. “What’s going on, Mom?” She frowned at the bag before that familiar panic flashed. Darn it! “We’re not leaving again, are we? Mom, you promised we could stay longer this time!”

“We aren’t leaving.” Paige popped up and kicked the bag back in place. She hated that alarm in Charlie’s eyes—a look Paige was doing everything she could to avoid ever seeing again. “And we have stayed longer.” Longer than any other place in the last year. “I promised to give you some warning next time, remember? Are you feeling okay?” She immediately pressed her hands against Charlie’s freckled face. No fever. Paige breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t have time for either of them to be sick. “The sun’s barely up.”

“I couldn’t sleep anymore.” Charlie’s gaze widened as she looked at the flowers. “Simon’s coming to the diner for breakfast. We have stuff to talk about.”

“Ah. Still thinking about the mysterious Butterfly Harbor treasure, are you?” Paige nodded and finished making her daybed that doubled as a sofa in the small living area. “I bet you miss Simon now that he’s in school. Makes it hard to go cave searching.” She’d worried how Charlie would adjust to Simon attending a charter school for gifted children just outside town. Thankfully Charlie’s common sense had kicked in and she hadn’t gone exploring on her own, while she waited for her school to start classes next week. All the more reason to keep her daughter occupied. A bored Charlie was never a good thing. “Don’t forget we have that meeting with your new teacher this week.”

“I know. I even drew her a butterfly picture.” Charlie’s voice brightened. “Who gave you the flowers?”

“Who says they’re for me?” Paige asked. “Maybe someone left them for you.”

Charlie shook her head. “Flowers are things adults do. Do you think maybe they’re from Deputy Fletch?”

“Fletch?” As much as the idea unsettled her, Paige had to admit the thought crossed her mind. Until she remembered how they’d left things yesterday at the wedding. She’d wanted to discourage him, to cut off his interest in her. Challenging his honor and reputation seemed to have done the trick.

She retrieved the flowers and put them in a glass of water on the small dining table by the window. No need for the flowers to suffer. One of the daisies drooped in exhaustion. “No, I don’t think they’re from Fletch. What makes you think they are?”

“’Cause he smiles when he looks at you. I heard Abby and Holly talking. They think he likes you.” Charlie sat in her usual chair and watched Paige skim her schedule for the day. “I think he likes you, too, Mom. And that’s what boys do when they like a girl. They give them flowers.”

“Hmm.” Paige typed notes onto her calendar app on her phone then set her reminder alarms. She needed to find some time to talk to Willa again and thought she might be able to pop by her house later this afternoon. Since Holly and Luke weren’t leaving on their honeymoon until tomorrow morning, she wasn’t due at the diner today until after ten, which gave her time to stop at Duskywing Farm and get Calliope’s deliveries out of the way before heading to the Flutterby Inn for her second-floor housekeeping gig. “You want to come with me to Calliope’s this morning before you meet Simon?”

“Moooooom, you’re not listening to me. I said I think Deputy Fletch likes you.”

“I heard you. There’s just nothing to talk about.” Paige set her phone on the table and tweaked Charlie’s nose. “Deputy Fletch and I are friends. Nothing more.” And maybe not even that.

“But I thought you liked him.”

“I like him fine. There’s nothing wrong with just being friends, Charlie.” Paige tugged on her sneakers before heading into the bathroom to tie up her hair. When Charlie didn’t respond, Paige looked over her shoulder. The frown on her daughter’s face was part frustration, part confusion. “What’s all this about?”

Charlie shrugged. “I’ve just been thinking about stuff. You know, how Simon has a dad now and he’s really happy. They’re like a real family.”

“Hey.” Paige tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she returned to the table to stoop down and take hold of Charlie’s hands. On days that started like this, Paige had to wonder just how badly her mistakes had screwed up her kid. “We’re a real family. We always have been, right? We do okay together, don’t we?”

“I guess.” Another shrug. “Sometimes I just wish I had a dad.”

“I know you do, baby.” Paige stroked a hand down Charlie’s face. That Charlie had never known her real father was still a knife to the heart. Despite Doug’s flaws, he would have made a great dad, but a freak accident at his construction job when Paige was six months pregnant destroyed Paige’s hopes she’d finally found the family—and home—she’d always longed for. “But it’s not as easy as wishing. We have to work for what we want, you know? Just like I have to work to make sure we can stay here. If I just stood back and waited for something to happen, nothing would. Life doesn’t work that way.” She leaned forward and kissed Charlie’s forehead. “Now, how about you go get dressed. I bet Calliope will show you the butterflies if we’re early enough. Five by five?”

The word butterfly worked its magic and erased the sadness from her little girl’s eyes. “Five by five.” Charlie confirmed everything was all right by using their secret code. “But I still think Deputy Fletch likes you.”

“You can think that all you like, little Miss.” Paige tapped her on the bottom to get her on her way. “But Fletch and I are friends. That’s all. Now, scoot.”

* * *

“MORNING, CHARLIE!”

Charlie pushed open the glass door to the Butterfly Diner and waved at Holly. She took a deep breath and smelled fresh-baked pies, buttery pancakes and crispy bacon along with coffee, which made Charlie’s nose wrinkle in distaste. Yuck. How did adults drink that stuff? “Good morning.” Charlie shifted her new school backpack—an honest-to-goodness butterfly bag with wings and everything—higher onto her shoulder. She had a big day planned between going to the library and taking a computer class at the youth center, and maybe, just maybe, she could do some exploring and find those caves. She’d printed a map off the internet after doing a search for the treasure box, but none of that was going to matter if Simon came through for her.

She walked up and gripped the edge of the counter. “I’m meeting Simon before he goes to school.”

“He’s in your usual spot.”

Charlie looked over to the two seats at the counter in the corner and found a sluggish-looking Simon slumping half-asleep, chin barely propped up on an unsteady hand, his other hand dangerously close to dropping into his bowl of uneaten oatmeal.

“I think the wedding wore him out.” Holly chuckled. “Luke will be by to take him to school in a bit.”

“M’kay,” Charlie said and moved out of the way as the door opened and a bunch of customers walked inside. The noise in the diner picked up, much to Charlie’s relief given what she needed to talk to Simon about. “Hey, Simon.” She set her bag on the floor and hauled herself up on the bright orange high-backed stool as Holly set a mug of hot chocolate brimming over with whipped cream in front of her. “Thank you.” Holly fixed the best hot chocolate ever.

“Simon, up and at ’em.” Holly knocked her knuckles on the counter. “You’ve got company.”

“Hmm?” Simon blinked sleepy eyes behind his thick-rimmed glasses. “Oh, hey.” He smiled at Charlie. “Sorry.”

“You want a waffle for breakfast, kiddo?” Holly asked her.

Charlie nodded. “Yes, please.” She’d liked Holly from the instant she’d met her. Not only because she’d given them a place to live and her mom a job, even though that had been supercool of her. Knowing Holly was around reminded Charlie of New York, back when they had a bunch of neighbors around, people for her to talk to, stay with, play with. After New York and before Butterfly Harbor, Charlie had been afraid she’d never have friends again. And now she had a best, best friend. And his mom was superawesome.

“Simon?” Holly asked. “You want eggs?”

“Whatever.” Simon shifted in his chair, his already askew tie going even more crooked.

Charlie frowned. She didn’t like Simon’s uniform or the changes that came with it. The light brown pants, white shirt, blue tie and matching button-down sweater reminded her of her teacher a few years ago, except Simon was way smarter than Mr. Abernathe had ever been. Simon was smarter than most people Charlie knew.

If anyone could figure out how to get her mom and Deputy Fletch to like each other, it was Simon Campbell. Charlie bit the inside of her cheek as Holly headed off to take care of her customers. “The flowers didn’t work,” Charlie leaned over and whispered in Simon’s ear, her declaration knocking the exhaustion from his face.

“You mean I got up extra early to drop those off for nothing?” Simon covered a yawn and rolled his eyes in that dramatic, why-am-I-doing-this way he had. “And I almost got caught by Mrs. Ellison. I thought grown girls liked flowers.”

“I didn’t say she didn’t like them, I said they didn’t work.” Charlie crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. She’d given up on finding the Butterfly Harbor treasure because Simon had ideas. But that was before he’d gotten so busy. “She still says they’re just friends.”

“Oh. Well, what do you think we can do about it?”

Charlie felt an odd tightening in her belly. This didn’t sound like the Simon she knew, the Simon who had gone out of his way to make his now-stepfather’s life miserable when Sheriff Saxon had first arrived in Butterfly Harbor. The Simon who was always plotting something.

“You told me you’d help,” Charlie reminded him. “Just like I helped you try to get rid of the sheriff even though I didn’t want to, remember?”

“I know.” Simon’s sigh made Charlie’s nose twitch. “And I said I would, but I don’t know—”

“That’s because you haven’t tried. You don’t care anymore.” Charlie did her best to stop the tears from filling her eyes. Her mom didn’t cry when things got tough. She just pushed forward. “You got everything you want. A new school, a new dad, and now that you do you don’t care what I want. If you did you’d be coming up with ideas in that stupid notebook of yours instead of falling asleep in your oatmeal. Don’t you want me to stay?”

Simon frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Charlie pressed her lips together. She wasn’t supposed to talk about it. Not to anyone other than her mom. “I think we’re going to move again.”

“What?” Simon shot up in his seat. “No, you can’t. You’re my best friend! Where will you go? I’ve never had a best friend before. You can’t leave!”

Tears blurred her vision. She dropped her chin and shook her head. “I don’t want to. But the way my mom is acting, it’s like it always is before we leave. If we can find a way to make her and Deputy Fletch fall in love, maybe she’ll change her mind. Unless you have another idea.”

“I don’t.”

Her stomach gave that weird flip whenever she got upset. “Mom told me this morning that you have to work for what you want. If you aren’t going to help me make Deputy Fletcher my dad, then I’ll just do it myself.” Charlie didn’t want to leave this place. Ever. It was the best place in the whole world. But the only way she could make that happen was if her mom had a reason to stay. Charlie slid off the stool and picked up her bag.

“Charlie, wait.”

Charlie felt a single tear drop onto her cheek.

“Charlie, don’t cry. I’m sorry.” Simon got up and bent down to stop her from putting her backpack on. “You’re right. I promised I’d help, and best friends always keep promises.”

“Sorry is just a word.” Charlie repeated what her mother always said. “It doesn’t mean anything. You need to show it.”

“Then I will. I’ll work during my lunch break at school, okay? I’ll come up with a plan, a couple of plans to get your mom and Deputy Fletch together, and we’ll figure out which one will work.”

“You will?” Charlie wanted to believe him. “You promise?”

“I promise.” Simon patted a hand on her shoulder and urged her to put her bag back down. “We’ll find a way to make sure you stay. And for you to be happy again.”

“Then help me make Deputy Fletch my dad.” Charlie scrubbed a hand over her wet cheeks and let herself believe. “Then I’ll be happy forever.”

* * *

“RESERVATIONS ALL MADE?” Fletch knocked on Luke’s office door Monday afternoon.

“Abby made them for us last night. Called in a few favors with a hotel in San Francisco.” An easy smile broke across Luke’s features as he dug out a file. The golden retriever sitting at attention beside the sheriff’s desk let out a small whine. “I believe this is yours now.”

“What?” Even as Fletch walked in and stretched out his hand, he knew. “Your report on the vandalisms and break-ins? You know?”

“That you’re taking over the case? The mayor’s email this morning confirming your meeting with him on Friday greased the wheels. That wasn’t necessary, Fletch.” Still, there was a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes. “You sure you want to take this on? It could get dicey.”

“With the mayor?” Fletch shrugged. “Don’t really care about that. You know he’s just waiting for you to screw up.”

“I had a feeling. These days we can barely agree if the sky is blue.” Luke waved off any concern Fletch might have voiced. “It didn’t help I’ve been more than vocal over his plans to empty out what’s left of certain areas in town. That said, if people think my taking a break for my honeymoon is a dereliction of duty, then I don’t want their vote anyway.”

“Why didn’t you tell any of us about Jasper?” Fletch asked.

“Because I was doing my best to eliminate him as a suspect before I had to. He wasn’t as helpful as he could have been when I talked to him. Defensive. Secretive. Maybe you should take a crack at him. You’ve known him longer.”

“Yeah.” Fletch nodded. “Might be a good idea.”

“Maybe we’ll luck out and you can be his alibi the next time someone takes a sledgehammer and spray paint to a newly abandoned property. I don’t expect miracles in a week, though.”

“Gil might.”

“Yeah, well, Gil can shove his ideas—” Luke cut himself off. “You know what? I can’t really blame Gil. These vandalisms couldn’t come a worse time. We’re getting a lot of business interest, not to mention a run on real estate. The planning commission is poised to approve the new construction project, which means we’re going to have a lot of new residents around here, a lot of them renters. The last thing we need is visible evidence of town dissatisfaction. We need to put a stop to it.”

“Then, Oz, Matt and I will get it done,” Fletch said. “Before you get back.”

“I appreciate the confidence, but I won’t hold you to it. What was that yesterday with Paige about Jasper?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Not that the conversation hadn’t replayed in his mind all night. She seemed to have taken Jasper’s situation so personally. “You know Paige. She’s a crusader. She doesn’t like the idea of Jasper being set up for something he might not have done.”

“Yeah, well.” Luke gestured to the folder in Fletch’s hand. “She’s not the only one. You’ve got his entire history right there. He’s made bad choices in the past, but rarely anything serious. I hate to pile on, but it’s not looking good for him, not with having found his school ID at one of the scenes. Maybe you should show Paige that information. Get her off your back. If you want to.”

Fletch ignored the twitch of a grin on the sheriff’s face. “A, no, I’m not going to show her the file because that would be a violation of my sworn duties, and B, I’m not sure her seeing it would make any difference. She’s practically got the kid wearing wings and a halo.”

“She sees the good in people, Fletch. I thought that was one of the things you like about her.”

“I did.” Until that optimism got in his way. “I told you not to worry. I’ll deal with Paige and Jasper and get this case closed up tight enough that the mayor won’t have anything to complain about. Sound good?”

“I’m not going to argue with anything at this point.” Luke grinned. “You’re in charge, Interim Sheriff.”

“I can’t even tell you how not funny that is,” Fletch grumbled.

“You good to take care of Cash while we’re gone?” He scrubbed the dog’s fur and earned a chuffed snort in return.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” It would be nice having some company in that big empty house of his on the outskirts of town. “Prime rib and French fries okay for dinner, Cash?”

Cash’s ears perked. “Woof.”

“If it comes in kibble form, absolutely. I told Charlie she could come by and take him for a walk. Matt’s out of town visiting Kyle in detention for the next couple of days. Remember, you can always call on Sheriff Brodie over in Durante if you get into a bind.”

“Uh-huh.” Fletch bit his tongue. Sean Brodie would be his last call when it came to anything. “Come on, man. Stop worrying. You’ve earned this time off.” About a gazillion times over. “Leave this place behind for a few days.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re right. I’m due to pick Simon up around four, then we want to take him out to dinner to celebrate.”

“Yesterday’s celebration wasn’t enough?” It certainly had been for Fletch, who could still feel the vestiges of the hangover threading through his skull.

“Ah, well, Holly and I are filing the adoption papers this afternoon.” Luke’s eyes shifted. “How’s that for timing? Looks like I’m officially going to be a father.”

“Try not to look so terrified.” Fletch laughed in an attempt to ease the tension in his friend’s face. “It’s what you wanted, right? To be Simon’s dad?”

“It is, yeah. Just sometimes hard to keep those ghosts where they belong, you know?” Luke shook his head, stopping short when he caught sight of the band of gold on his finger and looked to fall into some kind of trance. “Never thought I’d ever be living in this town again, let alone married with a kid. And a job I love despite the politics.”

Fletch never thought he’d be envious of the town’s onetime bad boy. Until Paige had hit town he’d never really entertained the notion of settling down. Now, every time he saw her—or Charlie—he had to stop himself from daydreaming about just that. “You paid your dues.” Luke’s past wasn’t something that needed voicing. Surviving an abusive childhood, nearly killing Holly’s father in a car accident that technically wasn’t his fault, doing everything he could to break the circle of violence that had encompassed his life, there wasn’t anyone Fletch admired more than Luke Saxon. “Now take off and enjoy yourself. We won’t burn the place down. At least not without you.”

“I’ll drop Cash off here in the morning on our way out.”

“When you get back we need to talk about the youth center hours for when school’s back in session.” With Jake Campbell out of town for a bit and Luke heading out, aside from two or three scheduled classes, the center would be closed most days.

“Writing that down right now.” Luke scribbled on his desk calendar. “You up for lunch at the diner later?”

“Ah, no, actually.” Fletch glanced at his watch. “I’m going to get a jump start on patrol. Change up the timing so we aren’t predictable. Plus I told Mrs. Hastings I’d stop in and install some new security locks for her.”

Luke’s brows knitted. “I’d say let me know how things go with Gil on Friday, but you know what? Never mind. I’ll hear about it when I get home.”

“I’m sure you will.” Fletch would lay odds that within minutes of walking out of the mayor’s office, whatever they discussed would be flying around town faster than a monarch out of hibernation.

CHAPTER FOUR

PAIGE CLICKED OPEN the latch of Mrs. Hastings’s garden gate and steered her bike to the side of the porch. Lifting the box of fresh-baked scones out of the handlebar basket, her contribution to the weekly tea she and the elderly woman shared, Paige turned toward the front door as it flew open.

“Fletch.” Paige couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice at the sight of the uniformed deputy. “What are you doing—” The question died on her lips as she registered the concern on his angular face. “What’s wrong?”

“Paige.” She couldn’t remember hearing her name said with such relief before. “Would you stay with her while I call for an ambulance? Her phone’s not working and I forgot my cell in the—”

“Told you once, I have no need for an ambulance, Fletcher Bradley.” The strained, familiar aged voice echoed from inside the house over the shrill whistle of the teakettle. “If I’d known you’d go all busybody on me, I’d have told you to forget those new locks and send you on your way.”

“I’m a deputy,” Fletch called over his shoulder. “Busybody is in the job description.”

“What’s going on?” Paige planted her hand on Fletch’s chest and pushed past him. She found eighty-four-year-old Celeste Hastings sitting in her antique rocking chair, a shaky hand pressed against her chest, eyes closed. She wore one of her usual floral high-neck dresses, her silver-threaded dark hair pulled back from her face in much the way Paige figured she’d worn it when she’d been the elementary and then high school principal.

“She said she feels dizzy,” Fletch said from behind her as Paige set her box down on the wooden coffee table that had been made by Mrs. Hastings’s late husband. “She was definitely wobbly.”

“She can speak for herself.” Mrs. Hastings dragged her eyes open wide enough for Paige to see the slight glaze. “I was getting our tea ready and felt a bit faint.” She aimed to pat the back of Paige’s hand but missed by inches. “The water’s hot.”

“So I hear.” Paige motioned for Fletch to turn off the stove before she focused on her neighbor. “Mrs. Hastings, have you been taking your medication?” Paige shifted to one knee and angled her fingers around so she could feel the old woman’s pulse. Fast and thready. Her skin was clammy, but not overly so.

“I keep forgetting,” Mrs. Hastings grumbled. “Darned pills are a nuisance. Too many of them. Makes me feel like one of those candy dispensers at the grocery store.”

“We talked about this, remember?” Paige scanned the room looking for the container of medication bottles Mrs. Hastings had insisted on maintaining herself. “Taking them on and off only makes you feel worse. Now, I’m going to get your kit and we’re going to test your blood. Then we’ll decide if you’re going to the hospital or not.”

When Mrs. Hastings nodded and closed her eyes again, Paige hurried into the kitchen and pulled open the cabinet over the sink. “Do you know if she passed out?” she asked Fletch.

“Not while I’ve been here. She seemed fine when she answered the door, then started to sway. I helped her to her chair.”

“Deputy Hero,” Paige said with a smile as she scanned the medication bottles. “A fall would have made matters worse. You probably got here just in time.” She found the daily pill organizers she’d purchased last week still in their packaging.

“Looks like you know what you’re doing,” Fletch said. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Diabetes,” Paige murmured. “And she has some blood pressure issues.” Neither of which were helped by missed dosages.

“I can hear every word you’re saying!” Mrs. Hastings called weakly.

“I’m sure you can. Where’s your testing kit, Mrs. Hastings?” Paige asked.

“By my bed,” was the response after a long sigh. “Darn thing makes my fingers hurt, and I can’t crochet with hurt fingers. I’ve got blankets to make for the holiday bazaar. No time for aches and pains.”

“I’ll get it.” Fletch disappeared out the second kitchen door and into the back bedroom.

“Nice young man,” Mrs. Hastings told Paige as she pulled up a chair beside the older woman. “Always been a good boy, that Fletcher Bradley. Took good care of his sister growing up. And his grandpa. He’ll make some young woman a nice husband.”

“I’m sure he will.” Paige hoped Mrs. Hastings kept her eyes closed long enough so as not to see the blush in Paige’s cheeks. The last thing she needed was for someone—especially this someone—playing matchmaker. “I thought we had a deal. I come for tea once a week and you take your medicine.”

“I’m an old woman. I forget things.”

“Old I’ll give you, but your memory is just fine.” Paige opened one of the bottles and dumped the pills into her palm. A quick count had her own heart jumping double time. Frustration bubbled in Paige’s blood. Mrs. Hastings hadn’t taken her pills in almost a week.

“Here.” Fletch approached from behind, handing the black bag over. Paige quickly opened it, readied the apparatus and clicked the springed needle against the side of Mrs. Hastings’s thumb.

“Ow.” Mrs. Hastings jumped, her brows drawing together.

“You’ve been testing on the pads of your fingers again.” Paige examined the faded black-and-blue marks. “You’re supposed to test on the sides so it won’t hurt after.” She may as well have been talking to herself given the thinning of Mrs. Hastings’s lips. When the readout blinked fifty, Paige’s training kicked in. “Fletch, see if there’s any orange juice in the fridge, please. If not, a soda or anything with high sugar in it.”

“Yeah.”

What Paige wouldn’t give for a stethoscope or blood pressure cuff. She reached for the old woman’s hand and took her pulse again, counting down the unending seconds until she felt a steadier beat.

“Here.” Fletch handed her a glass of orange juice. “Should I call the ambulance?”

“That depends.” Paige urged Mrs. Hastings to drink. “Let’s give this a few minutes and see how she feels. Okay? Nice and slow. There you go.” She smoothed Mrs. Hastings’s hair back from her face.

Mrs. Hastings nodded, her trembling hands taking the glass from Paige as she did as she was told.

Paige set the medications out on the table and filled the organizer, something she should have done in the first place.

“Your hovering isn’t going to make me feel any better, young man,” Mrs. Hastings said in a stronger tone. “You go fix my locks like you said you would.”

“Ma’am.” Fletch nodded but stepped back to look at Paige, who added her own gesture of encouragement as the concern melted from his gaze.

“I’ll call if we need you.” Paige pulled Mrs. Hastings’s free hand toward her and dropped today’s pills into her wrinkled palm. “Take them, please.”

“Don’t need a babysitter.”

“Apparently you do,” Paige said with a forced lightness of tone. Dealing with elderly patients took care and patience. Fighting them did no good and often created more problems than solutions. “I think you did this just to get me back here more frequently.”

Mrs. Hastings smirked, opened her now-clear eyes. “You have enough on your plate without worrying about an old woman.”

“I’m not worrying about an old woman—I’m worrying about my friend. Besides, Charlie would never forgive me if something happened to you. She loves coming here. Now take them, please.” She watched, satisfied when Mrs. Hastings followed instructions. “I’m going to go into the kitchen to finish fixing our tea. And if you’re feeling better in a few minutes, I’ll bring you one of the blueberry scones Charlie helped me bake yesterday.”

“Would be nice to see your Charlie again. You’re a good girl, Paige.” Mrs. Hastings caught hold of her hand as Paige got up. “I’m sorry to be such a bother.”

“You’re nothing of the sort. Now, you just rest and I’ll be back in a bit.” Paige returned to the kitchen and turned the kettle back on, sparing a glance over her shoulder to Fletch as he replaced the dead bolt on the back door. “It’s a good thing you were here.”

“Looks like.” Fletch shook his head. “Reminds me of my grandfather. They can seem so...”

“Fragile.” Paige nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“You were very good with her.”

“I’ve had some experience with patie—um, situations like hers.” Paige bit the inside of her cheek and reminded herself to choose her words more carefully. “An elderly neighbor, where we lived before, had similar issues. Charlie and I used to check on her.” Had it really been over a year since she’d seen or spoken to Mrs. Brennan? Paige could only hope one of her grandchildren had stepped up to oversee her care.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you talk about your past.” Fletch angled his screwdriver differently to pop the old lock off. “So much for my theory you and Charlie sprung out of someone’s flower bed.”

“I’m not one to dwell on what happened before.” Paige’s heart jumped in her chest. She spent most of her down hours doing just that. Could she be around the man for more than five minutes without lying? “How are you doing, Mrs. Hastings?” she called over her shoulder.

“I’m not feeling fragile, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

Paige chuckled. Yeah, Mrs. Hastings wouldn’t be needing a ride to the hospital today.

“Fletch, I expect you to stay for tea once you’re done with those locks,” Mrs. Hastings called.

Fletch’s cheeks went red. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen this side of you before.” Nor had Paige ever seen him look so uncomfortable or out of his element. She found it more charming than she expected.

“Once my high school principal, always my high school principal.” He bent down to retrieve the new lock and screw it into place. “I swear, I step foot inside this house and I’m a teenager again.”

Paige poured the hot water into the teapot to warm it before brewing—a lesson she’d received on her first visit a few months before. “It’s a nice problem to have.” She rose up on her toes to look out into the overgrown yard and spotted a collection of tools resting against the side of the house she didn’t remember seeing before. “Mrs. Hastings, have you been doing yard work?”

“Isn’t going to get done on its own. Stop snooping on me.”

Fletch leaned out the back door for a quick look, then shook his head.

“I hate weeds!” Mrs. Hastings announced.

“Right. Weed hater. Adding that to the list.” Paige pulled out her phone and tapped open her calendar, looking through for a spare few hours. “I get off from the diner early on Thursday, Mrs. Hastings. I can bring you an early dinner if you’d like.” And while she was there she could tackle some of that yard work.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Mrs. Hastings repeated after a long hesitation.

“If it were a bother, I wouldn’t offer.” Paige added it to her schedule, avoiding Fletch’s curious look.

“I do like Ursula’s club sandwich,” came Mrs. Hastings’s reply.

“Who doesn’t?” Fletch said as he closed up, tested and locked the back door. “One down, two to go. Hold that tea for me, will you? I’ll just do the shed and then the front door.”

“Sure, yeah, okay.” Paige watched him trudge through the overgrown grass and weeds on his way to the rusted-out storage shed in the backyard as she pulled out a third dainty flower-painted teacup and arranged it on the tray beside the other two. “Deputy Fletcher does tea. Who knew?”

* * *

“I APPRECIATE YOU not bringing up Jasper or the break-ins while we were in there,” Fletch said a little over an hour later as he and Paige walked down Mrs. Hastings’s front steps. “She’s already worked up enough reading about them in the paper.”

“A lot of people are.” Paige retrieved her bike and walked beside him. “I hear plenty of them talking about it at the diner. I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind about Jasper.”

“Contrary to what you might think, and the fact we did find evidence of his presence at one of the houses, I haven’t declared him guilty, Paige. But I would like to find him and talk to him.” Fletcher glanced at her. “Don’t suppose you have any idea where he might be.”

“No.” She visibly swallowed and flinched. “Why would I know?”

Why would she, indeed? But it was clear she was hiding something. “I’m going to take another walk through the houses, check over the notes again. See if there might be something else we missed the first time.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose. You made Mrs. Hastings happy, staying for tea.”

“I try to make everyone happy.” Fletch hid his disappointment at not being given more credit for taking her suggestion and looking for answers beyond Jasper. “You really were good with her. Put her at ease, got her numbers stable.” With her blood sugar level, they’d gotten their charge settled in her room, an afternoon talk show on the TV, her latest crocheting project across her lap and a fresh-brewed pot of tea on the table beside her. “Am I wrong in thinking there’s more to your story than an old neighbor with similar issues?”

“If I tell you will you let me help you with Jasper?”

He chuckled. “No.”

Paige glared at him, and when he glanced down, he saw her knuckles whiten around the handles of her bike. “Huh. Well, you’re honest at least.” She swung a leg over the bar, but Fletch darted out in front, grabbed hold of the bike and kept her in place. She arched a challenging brow at him. “Mind telling me what all this new determination about the case is about? Why can’t it wait until Luke gets back?”

“Because it can’t.” Fletch clenched his jaw. He should just tell her the truth, that he needed to get his case closed if Luke was going to keep his job, but that would just open up a whole other avenue of questions...and probably send Paige down the warpath to City Hall.

Not even Mayor Gil Hamilton deserved to be on Paige Cooper’s hit list.

“How about you tell me how you first started having tea with Mrs. Hastings?” If he couldn’t get her to open up the direct way, he was happy to take the long way around.

Paige planted her backside on the seat, her feet on the ground, and looked at him. Before she turned to gaze at the house across from Mrs. Hastings. “She caught me daydreaming in the yard over there.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you left much time for daydreaming. What do you dream about, exactly?”

“A lot of things. But mainly this house.” Paige climbed off and tugged the bike from his grasp. She walked over to the sidewalk where a faded For Sale sign peeked out of a substantial growth of wildflowers blanketing the front yard of the bright yellow Tudor-style cottage. A weathered white trellis stretched up one side of the exterior and cascaded over with explosive red geranium blooms determined to see the end of summer in full glory.

“The day Charlie and I arrived, we took a walk up this way,” Paige told him. “We were staying at the Chrysalis Motel at the time.”

“I remember.” Not the nicest motel in the area; but not the worst. “You made quite the impression helping Holly the way you did in the diner.” There wasn’t a lot Fletch didn’t know about Paige’s time in town since she and Charlie had arrived. But before? That was another story.

“Charlie fell in love with this house from the get-go.” Paige tucked an imaginary loose strand of hair behind her ear and glanced up then down the street accented by an occasional parked car. “Once Holly hired me I started coming here on my lunch break. I’d just sit in the yard and listen to the silence.”

“And the occasional seagull.” Fletch glanced up as a pair of the feathered creatures squawked and circled overhead.

Paige smiled and followed his gaze. “I love that sound. Everything’s so peaceful here. Like a sanctuary.”

It wasn’t often Fletch saw Paige in calm mode. She was always buzzing around town, doing something somewhere, never stopping long enough to take a substantial breath. But here? In front of this particular house she seemed to relax. And breathe. “So Butterfly Cottage caught your attention, did it?”

“Hmm.” She pushed through the wooden gate and stood among the flora and fauna, looking as at home as a fairy in her garden. “That’s what Mrs. Hastings called it, as well. I take it the name comes from the window over the front door?”

“It does indeed.” Fletch had always loved the stained glass depicting a pair of brilliant monarch butterflies settling onto their eucalyptus branch. Almost as much as he liked the hand-carved door beneath it. His cell phone vibrated on his hip. He reached down, checked the message. Great. Another reported break-in. This time Everett White had called in to say his toolshed had been the target. Fletch mentally readjusted the next few hours of his day. “It’s one of my favorite houses, too, actually,” he admitted. “Is that what brings you back here? The window?”

“No. The For Sale sign.” The second she said it he heard the regret, saw the way she bit her lip and looked away from him, closing her eyes against the sun. “I just like to know it’s still available.”

So much for him thinking Butterfly Harbor was a pit stop for her and Charlie. “You thinking of buying?”

“No.” Her admission had the hope inflating inside him bursting like a bubble. “That would mean staying here permanently, and I’m not sure that’s in the cards for us.”

Paige confirming his suspicion only increased his disappointment. “But if you were to stay, this is the one you’d want.”

“Yes.” That she said it with a frown made him wonder if she’d thought about staying more than she was letting on.

“Because Charlie loves it?”

Ah, the frown vanished, replaced with that familiar heart-clenching smile of hers. “Because Charlie loves it. Speaking of Charlie, she said Luke gave her permission to walk Cash. I hope that’s okay with you. I don’t want her getting in the way of your...investigation.”

“Charlie is welcome at the station anytime,” Fletch told her. “If her mom doesn’t mind.”

“Even if I did I couldn’t stop her. She’s very fond of you, Deputy.” And didn’t Paige look positively thrilled at that idea.

“Fletch. And I’m pretty fond of her, too.”

“We aren’t staying,” Paige said, and he could tell by her expression she hadn’t meant to. “There will come a time we have to move on. So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let her get too attached to...Cash.”

Fletcher didn’t miss a beat. “Consider... Cash...forewarned. Unless he can convince you otherwise. If it helps, I don’t think you have a lot to worry about with this place being sold. The original owner’s family has a say over who buys it. They want the right tenant, someone who will appreciate it as is. They won’t sell it to just anyone.”

“Why would anyone want to change it?” The wonder in her voice brought another smile to his face. “She’s perfect.”

“Yes, she is.” But Fletch wasn’t looking at the house. He was looking at her.

And closely enough to see the rise of pink in her cheeks before she locked down her face in that detached expression of hers that seemed specifically reserved for him. She returned to her bike, climbed on and looked at him over her shoulder. “I’m on my way to Nina and Willa’s to look in on them. Is there anything you’d like me to ask them in particular?”

“Nice try.” He recognized her baiting technique and refused to bite. “But give them my best. I know where to find them. And you, if I have any questions.”

“I still think you’re looking for something that isn’t there.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Fletch could almost see the wall going up between them.

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