Cubby thought about that for a couple of seconds. “That could be useful, because if it’s who I suspect, then we need to keep it real quiet until I can bring them in.”
Jake thought about the people he knew in Howling and came up blank. None of them could do, to his mind, what had been done to Branna.
“Hell of a thing thinking it could be someone you swapped cookies with in school.” Buster’s thoughts were obviously running along the same lines as Jake’s.
They said nothing further and found Ethan in the small dining room. The Texan had his boots dangling over the edge of the table, chair balanced on two legs, and a large piece of cake in his hand.
“Comfortable?” Jake questioned, making his way past him and into the kitchen.
“Peachy.”
Branna was making coffee and cutting more cake, her movements quick and jerky, shoulders rigid.
“You doing okay?”
She turned with the plate in her hand, face carefully blank.
“Of course. You take this in, and I’ll bring the coffee.” Her words were clipped, eyes avoiding his, and Jake knew now wasn’t the time to get into this, so he took the plate and went back to the dining room.
They ate and talked, and Branna sat quietly and listened.
“I don’t want to scare you, Branna, but you can’t stay here alone anymore until I find who is responsible for this.”
Her eyes shot to Cubby.
“That’s not always easy, Cubby. Plus, I need to be here alone during the day to write.”
The sheriff gave her gentle smile. “During the day should be okay, I guess, but no headphones, and maybe take your laptop onto the porch and write somewhere you can be visual.”
“You can write in The Hoot,” Buster said. “And bake this cake for my customers while you’re there. What’s the recipe?”
“I’ve repeatedly asked you for Mystery Muffin recipes, and you haven’t come through, so forget it.”
“Is it called Mystery Cake?”
She managed a smile at Buster’s words. “Thanks for the offer of The Hoot, but I like to write alone with no distractions.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Jake said, and then swallowed a mouthful of coffee as she frowned at him. He knew she was independent, even understood that she’d been on her own for years looking after every aspect of her life, but that was no excuse for stupidity.
“I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can, but I’m pretty sure you’ve never had someone threatening you like this before, so use that oversized brain of yours and understand that you need help until this is settled,” Jake said calmly.
She didn’t say anything, just got to her feet and began to collect up plates and cups before stomping off to the kitchen.
“I’m out.” Ethan got to his feet with the speed of a man who had dealt with an emotional woman before.
“Me too.” Buster followed.
“I’ll be in touch.” Cubby patted Jake’s shoulder and closed the door behind them.
He found her washing cups and plates and making more noise than she needed to.
“Ready for that run now?”
“You go on. I need to get a few things done.”
“Not happening, Rosebud, so let’s go.”
