Tommy’s small hand came up to rest on his grandfather’s shoulder. “I know that, Grandpa.” His gaze shifted to include Isabel. “And we have Isabel now, too. She’ll help us.”
Isabel felt her heart constrict at the simple trust in his voice. “That’s right,” she confirmed, moving to join them. “We’re in this together.”
Frank picked up Tommy and drew Isabel into a tight embrace. When they separated, Frank’s expression had changed. Instead of being uncertain about the future, he seemed determined to keep everyone safe.
“I’ll call Marcus and Agent Ramirez,” he said quietly to Isabel. “They need to know about the photos and what happened with Tommy. This has gone too far.”
He turned to Tommy with a gentler tone. “But first, I think we all deserve some breakfast. Tommy, how do you feel about pancakes?”
Tommy’s face brightened. “With chocolate chips?”
“Absolutely,” Isabel answered for Frank, already moving toward the kitchen cabinets. “And I make the best pancakes this side of the Mississippi.”
As she gathered the ingredients, Isabel glanced at Frank, catching his eye as he helped Tommy set the table. The look that passed between them contained volumes—gratitude, resolve, and something deeper that she wasn’t ready to name.
She just hoped the person who’d left the photos on the veranda wasn’t staying in Sapphire Bay. Otherwise, none of them would get much sleep.
CHAPTER 21
Isabel stifled another yawn as she arranged a display of mystery novels on the table near the front window. The overhead lights highlighted the freshly dusted shelves and newly organized sections that Lynda had been working on since they’d arrived.
Lynda slid a book onto the shelf behind the front counter. “That’s the fourth time you’ve yawned in the last ten minutes. Kathleen mentioned you stayed at Frank’s house last night, but from the looks of things, there wasn’t any romance keeping you awake.”
Isabel felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Lynda!”
“What?” Lynda’s expression was all innocence, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m just concerned about my friend’s well-being. You look exhausted—and not in a good way, if you know what I mean.”
Isabel sighed as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Tommy went missing yesterday after a program at the church.” She kept her voice low, even though there were no customers in the store. “Frank called me, and I helped search for him.”
Lynda’s teasing smile disappeared. “Is Tommy all right? What happened?”
“We found him hiding in an old hunting blind.” Isabel carefully edited what she could share. She had to be careful of Frank’s privacy and the seriousness of the situation. “He was scared but unharmed.”
Lynda leaned against the counter, concern etched across her face. “Why would he run off like that? Tommy doesn’t seem like the type to just disappear.”
Isabel hesitated. “Remember the aggressive man we saw with Frank at the diner? The one in the expensive suit?” When Lynda nodded, Isabel continued. “He approached Tommy at the church. He said some things that frightened Tommy.”
“That’s disturbing,” Lynda said with a frown. “Did Frank call the police?”
“He’s talking to someone today.”
Lynda breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good. People who intimidate children need to be sent to prison. It’s just as well Frank knows him.”
Isabel busied herself with straightening books that didn’t need straightening. “Frank’s in a difficult situation, but he’s handling it.”
Lynda studied her for a long moment. “And you’re helping him.”
It wasn’t a question, but Isabel nodded anyway. “I am.”
“Does what’s happening remind you of something?” Lynda asked softly.
Isabel sighed, memories flooding back of late nights waiting for James to come home from dangerous assignments, of coded phone calls, and watching for unfamiliar cars on their street.
“When James was on the force, especially during his undercover years, there was always an element of danger in everything we did,” she admitted. “I thought I’d left all that behind after he died.”
Lynda moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Isabel’s arm. “Are you sure you want to step back into that kind of stress? After everything you’ve been through?”
Isabel considered the question seriously. The strain of the past twenty-four hours had been enormous—the fear when Tommy was missing, the shock of the photographs this morning. But underneath it all had been a sense of purpose, of being needed in a way that went beyond running a bookstore or being a supportive friend.
