“Okay,” Margo agreed, though her frown deepened. “What’s going on? You’re both acting like I’m in some kind of danger.”
“We found a key jammed in your lock last night,” Holt told her directly.
“What?” Margo’s eyes widened with alarm.
“When I came back to check on the shop after dropping you and your mother at the clinic,” Tom explained, “I caught someone dressed in black trying to get inside. I chased them, but they managed to get away.”
Holt raised an eyebrow and looked at Tom, who shot him a warning glare. Holt had to hide his smile as he remembered finding Tom flat on his back after slipping on the cooking oil.
“Why didn’t you tell me this when you picked us up from the clinic?” Margo asked Tom.
“I didn’t want to alarm you unnecessarily,” Tom replied. “You were still pretty groggy from whatever pain medication your mother had given you.”
A sudden thought hit Holt, and he patted his jacket pockets until he found what he was looking for. The note Willa had given him just before the fire broke out yesterday. The one she’d found on her windshield that morning. With everything that had happened, he’d completely forgotten about it.
Holt unfolded the paper and read the message aloud: “Some things are not meant for you, Captain. Maybe it’s time for you to pack up and leave Sandpiper Shoreswillingly.” The ‘willingly’ was highlighted in red.Well, that wasn’t just a message, it was a threat.Alarm and that protective feeling he’d developed toward Willa hit him hard once again, and he pushed it aside.
“What is that?” Tom asked immediately.
Holt handed him the note. “This is what Willa found on her windshield yesterday morning.” He turned to Margo. “She mentioned that you also received a note taped to your door.”
“Oh, right,” Margo sighed, walking toward her small office. “I almost forgot about that.”
She returned a moment later with a folded piece of paper, which she handed to Holt. He opened it and read: “Local is always better, at least you know what you’re getting.”
“What do you think this means?” Holt asked, showing her the message.
“I have no idea,” Margo said, looking genuinely puzzled. “I try to buy everything locally whenever possible. All my produce comes from Henderson’s farm, and my coffee beans are roasted right here in town. I don’t understand what point they’re trying to make.”
Holt wasn’t convinced the note was about her purchasing habits, but he handed it to Tom, who added it to a file folder he’d brought along specifically for documenting incidents involving Margo.
“Besides the key jammed in the door and someone trying to break in, did you find anything else unusual?” Margo asked them.
“There was cooking oil spilled on the floor near the stove and around the counter area,” Tom told her. “If the burner had been left on much longer, that oil could have acted as an accelerant for a serious fire.”
“What?” Margo gasped, her face paling. “But I cleaned up before I left the first time yesterday. I’m always careful about keeping the cooking area spotless.”
“Is there another entrance to the building besides the front door?” Holt asked. “Any way someone could have gotten inside without using the main entry?”
“There’s a delivery door in the back,” Margo replied, “but it has a deadbolt and a security chain. The basement has a small window, but it’s too narrow for an adult to fit through. And there’s the internal staircase that connects to the upstairs apartments, but that’s locked from both sides.”
Holt made notes as she spoke. “What about the building next door? Any shared walls or connected spaces?”
“No, these are all separate structures,” Margo said. “The inn is about fifty feet away, and there’s a small garden area between us and the hardware store on the other side.”
Tom and Holt exchanged glances, both thinking the same thing. Whoever this was, who was targeting Margo, had either found a way inside that wasn’t obvious, had inside help, or had their own key. Holt made a mental note to get the key they found jammed into Margo’s door the previous night fingerprinted.
“We need to get someone down here to fingerprint the front door,” Holt told Tom, who nodded in agreement.
He was quiet for a moment before catching Margo’s attention. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Tom said decisively. “Holt and I are going to take turns helping you lock up each night and we’ll check the building before you leave. No arguments.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to cause problems for either of you,” Margo protested. “You both have your own responsibilities, and I can’t ask you to babysit my coffee shop.”
“You’re not asking,” Holt said firmly. “We’re insisting. And I’m going to install a better security system for you this evening after you close. Motion sensors, better locks, maybe a camera or two.”
“That’s really not necessary—” Margo began.
“It absolutely is necessary,” Tom interrupted. “These incidents are escalating, and we’re not taking any chances with your safety.” His eyes fell on her burnt arm. “Next time, things could be a lot worse.”
