Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Finn followed me into the pet store where I spotted an angry septuagenarian being blocked from exiting the store by a harried dog groomer.
I nodded a greeting at both of them. “Louisa. Mrs. Brainthwaite. What seems to be the problem?”
Louisa remained calm despite being obviously peeved. “She has three Nylabones and a squeaky squirrel in her purse.”
Mrs. Brainthwaite wouldn’t meet my eyes. She crossed her arms in front of her full chest. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d deign to purchase any items from the likes of you.”
Louisa finally snapped. “Who said anything about purchasing?”
“Marla,” I said, softening my voice in the way I’d learned worked on the older lady. “We’ve been over this before. Either pay her for them or get them on Amazon. Which will it be?”
Now she met my eyes with fury. “I will not give my money to that corporate monstrosity! I support local or nothing at all, do you hear me?”
Louisa threw her hands up and huffed, but Finn was the one who spoke next. His voice was kind and gentle.
“But you’re not supporting local. You’re contributing to a locally owned business suffering. Is that what you want? For Aster Valley to go back to the way it was ten years ago when half the shops were shuttered and some of the store owners were forced to move away?”
I glanced at him in surprise. How did he know about Aster Valley’s history?
“Of course not,” Mrs. Brainthwaite said indignantly. “My own sister… my own…” She stopped and clamped her lips together, chin trembling a little. Her eyes darted to Louisa before she finally exhaled. “My sister used to own a T-shirt stand inside the main ski lodge. She… she was forced out of business when the resort closed.”
Louisa looked taken aback. “I never knew Alicia owned her own business. I’ll bet she was great at it. She’s such a people person. She comes in here with Pickles all the time and makes everyone laugh.”
Mrs. Brainthwaite’s entire face softened. “She does?”
Louisa nodded and gestured toward a little rotating stand with doggie bow ties on it. “She was looking at that green-and-white-striped tie for Pickles but decided to wait for Christmas.”
Mrs. Brainthwaite reached out to run a finger over the fabric of the bow tie. “But Pickles’ birthday is next month…”
Once everyone’s hackles had been lowered and Louisa had made a particularly large sale to Mrs. Brainthwaite, including the bones, toys, bow tie for Pickles, and a bag of organic, homemade treats—also made by a local Aster Vallian—Finn and I bid the ladies a nice day and made our way back to the SUV.
“You didn’t arrest her for shoplifting,” he said once we got strapped in.
“She didn’t shoplift,” I said with a smile. “Louisa didn’t let her leave.”
“But…” He looked back at the shop and then at me. “Small towns are different.”
“That they are,” I agreed. “It takes a little getting used to.”
“I like it,” Finn said softly.
We made our way back to the station, but before we arrived, Penny radioed in a 10-16.
“Negative. Have Graham do it,” I said in response. Finn began scrolling on his list of radio codes again.
“A prisoner pickup?” Finn said, with a thread of excitement in his voice. “Why did you say no? That would be great.”
“She needs to be taken down to Silverthorne. I assumed you couldn’t be that far away from the set.” It was a lie. I didn’t want to be alone in the car with him for the long drive back after dropping the woman off at the lockup in Summit County.
“It’s fine. All I have left today is a blocking meeting for a climbing scene. My trainer and I are doing it over dinner.”
My mind interpreted that last sentence in an inappropriate way that left me feeling testy. “Fine.” I called Penny back and told her I’d take the 10-16.
We swung by the department and processed the prisoner out. Finn listened to my safety instructions diligently and kept plenty of distance between himself and the woman. She’d been picked up on a routine traffic stop where the deputy had learned about an outstanding warrant on her in another county. All we had to do was transfer her, and since the deputy who usually did runs like this was on vacation, Penny had figured I’d appreciate the time away from all the chaos of the increasing tourist crowd in town.
She’d been right. Even the woman in the back of the SUV commented on it.
“What the fuck is all that for?” she asked as we drove down Main Street past a large crowd gathered outside the diner. She craned her neck to see if she could spot the cause of the gathering.
Finn sunk down in his seat and kept his head turned away from her.
“There’s a movie being filmed in town,” I said. “It’s brought in a bunch of lookie-loos. Some of the actors are probably having lunch at the diner.”