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A trio of officers dashed past.

“I think they’re closing in,” Vic said.

“I hope so.”

A commotion off to the side caught their attention. A cluster of cops appeared, escorting the man they’d caught on the surveillance footage toward the exit.

“They got him.” Harlow lifted her hand, giving Vic a high five. “One down. Who knows how many more to go.”

An officer crossed the street and made his way to the cottage. “Ms. Wynn?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Officer Tate. I wanted to let you know we apprehended the trespasser. It appears there was only one.”

“Thank you,” Harlow said. “I’m almost positive he’s a professional photographer. I was wondering if you could question him, to find out who he’s working for.”

“Sure.” Tate put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. The escorting officers and suspect came to an abrupt halt, waiting for the cop to make his way over.

Harlow watched as Tate began motioning toward them.

The trespasser shook his head.

“Do you recognize him?” she asked.

Vic squinted his eyes. “No. Never seen him before in my life.”

“Me either. He doesn’t look happy.”

“The cops are taking his phone,” Vic whooped. “I’m liking these local cops.”

The man jerked his arm, watching while the officer tapped the top.

Officer Tate held the phone up.

The man shook his head.

David, Lottie and Aunt Birdie appeared.

“What’s going on?” her father asked. “I thought they had already hauled the guy off to jail.”

“I asked Officer Tate to find out who he’s working for.” Harlow craned her neck. “He’s after something.”

Finally, the escorting officers and intruder left, disappearing around the corner as they made their way toward the road.

After they were gone, Tate returned to the porch.

“We noticed you checking his cell phone,” Vic said.

“I asked him who he was working for. He refused to answer me, which got me wondering what he was trying to hide.”

“It had to be one of the larger tabloids,” Harlow said. “They’re the only ones who would pay to send a photographer to Mackinac Island to hunt me down.”

“It wasn’t a news organization.” Tate flipped open his notepad. “It was a person. The man told me Robert Barbetz hired him to take pictures.”

Harlow’s jaw dropped. She stared at the officer in disbelief. “My husband hired him?”

“He claims he was working on a special project and needed photos of…”