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“Okay, well, if we’re on the right track, Sirius already knows about the Whittaker connection. He may have been instrumental in establishing it. His presence in Safehaven means he’s figured out that’s where the supply chain broke down. I’m not so sure the goon who tackled you at Belier’s has the full picture. He knows where the gemswere, but he might not know where they were headed.” Quinn grimaced. “Then again, maybe he does, and he’s also working backward.”

“Great.”

“It’s hard to know where he fits into this. I don’t believe he can be working with Sirius.”

“No. Sirius said he wasn’t. He seemed to know who he was, though.”

“Not that we can believe everything Sirius says, but I think he’ll have been relatively honest with you because he’ll consider you his best bet of getting the gems back.”

Andy said slowly, “How dangerous is Sirius?”

Quinn gave him a funny look.

“What I mean is, he gave me an ultimatum. How worried do I need to be when I miss his deadline?”

Quinn’s smile was dry. “He doesn’t go around hitting innocent bystanders over the head with pokers. And he’s reportedly squeamish when it comes to eliminating women and children. Otherwise, Sirius is ruthlessly pragmatic. Just because he’s occasionally squeamish doesn’t mean he can’t hire someone to do what he needs done.”

“Better and better.” Andy sighed.

“Let me worry about Sirius.” With that, Quinn shifted into drive, and the inconspicuous gray sedan pulled away from the curb.

Strike One.

The sign on the front door of Whittaker’s Second Chances read CLOSED.

It was still early, of course, but Andy’s hope that they were minutes from finding answers was quickly dashed by the chatty, chipper lady behind the counter of Polka Dot Doughnuts.

“The owner was killed last week. It’s so sad. She was leaving work, and someidiotran her down in the parking lot and fled the scene.”

“That’s terrible.” Andy meant it sincerely. June Whittaker’s fate so easily could have been Uncle C.’s.

“Isn’t it? I can’t believe people sometimes. She was there for thirty years. Moved here from Holland. Her shop is practically a landmark.”

Quinn asked, “Did she have family?”

“Her husband. Ralph. But Ralph’s going to sell. He said the shop was June’s thing. He’s retired. June was always talking about retiring too, but I think she loved the business too much. He’ll probably get a good price. I hope so. I hope we don’t get another Starbucks!”

“What about her employees?” Andy asked. “What will they do?”

“It was mostly June. She had a couple of part-timers, off and on. She fired Paul Robie for stealing.Snow globes, according to Julie Mitchell, if you can believe that! That was, what? Two months ago. Sometime in October. Julie left to have her baby. It’shardgetting good people. Nobody wants to work these days.”

“That’s so true,” Quinn said gravely. “Do you have a phone number for Mr. Whittaker?”

This brought Ms. Polka Dot Doughnuts up short. “Oh. Well. I’m not sure.”

“I understand. We’re dealers.” Quinn’s smile was both reassuring and charming. The smile he used on Mrs. Gordon,his American Lit teacher, when he was ducking Nathaniel Hawthorne for football practice. “We might be in a position to make Mr. Whittaker an offer. Depending on what he’s asking, of course.”

“Of course!” She smiled, relieved no doubt that they were not hunting new locations for Starbucks. “You don’t look like pawnshop customers, that’s for sure!”

She excused herself, and disappeared into the back room.

“Stealing snow globes,” Andy murmured.

“Mm-hm.”

They exchanged looks.

“What do pawnshop customers look like?”