Page 21 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

Fisher resisted the urge to smack him. The kid was just doing his job, but Fisher couldn’t wait to have Van Buren sit on this prepubescent’s superior tomorrow. The first rule to any investigation was never jump to any conclusions, otherwise you spent all of your time trying to fit the crime to the easiest suspect, instead of gathering actual facts and finding the real culprit.

“Can I go into my shop now?” Annie asked.

Fisher glanced at her. In the streetlight, she looked about as strong as a buttercup. He wanted to hug her. He didn’t.

“Sure. We’re done in there.” The officer stepped away. “If either of you think of anything that might help us with this investigation, here’s my card. Just give me a call.”

Fisher didn’t bother to tell him that he wouldn’t be on this investigation very long.

“Sure,” he said and slid the card into his pocket.

Following Annie into the shop, he winced. The place looked as if it had been hit by a tornado with an attitude. Tables and chairs were overturned. Pottery smashed. Even the baked goods in the display area had been mangled.

“Oh no!” Annie whispered in a strangled gasp. “Eve’s cake!”

She raced through the store, vaulting over the wreckage in her path, to the kitchen in back. She slid to a stop in front of the walk-in cooler and yanked its massive steel door open. She sagged against the doorjamb. Fisher looped a supportive arm around her shoulders and glanced over her head. Eve’s cake stood in all of its five-tiered, ivory glory in the center of the cooler.

“Thank Heavens,” she sighed. She turned and glanced around the kitchen. It was a mess. Flour, sugar, bottles of extract, all of her spices, even her cooking utensils were strewn across the floor. It was like being on the inside of a mixing bowl peering out. “I just don’t understand. Who would have...?”

Fisher couldn’t take it anymore. Opening his arms, he let her walk into them. Holding her close he breathed in the sweet scent of her hair while he ran a hand up and down her back, trying to give her comfort. He could feel her shaking and he knew – there was no way Annie Talbot was a criminal. She was a victim and whoever was using her business to launder money was more vicious than he and Brian had imagined.

“It’s going to be all right,” he said, promising himself that it would be. “I’ll help you clean up.”

“No, it’s all right,” she said, stepping out of his arms. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve already done.”

“It’s no...”

“No, it could have been dangerous. You could have been hurt or worse...” Her voice broke and she took a long steadying breath. She walked back out to the main room as she spoke. “You didn’t sign on for this when you signed the lease. If you want to move out, I’ll understand.”

“No!” Fisher snapped more forcefully than he intended. She frowned at him, and he stammered, “What I mean is...I...I’m glad I was here. The thought of you here alone and what could have happened... Why the hell don’t you have an alarm system?”

She blinked. “I never thought I needed one.”

“Well think again.”

“But this is just a coffee shop.”

“Yes, in a city where crimes occur,” Fisher argued, feeling belligerent. “It’s not like you live in East Podunk, Nowhere. You have to be more careful. I’ll call tomorrow and see what I can arrange.”

“No!” she said. “This was a random incident. It will probably never happen again. I’m not going to bar the windows and buy attack dogs to patrol the grounds.”

“Annie, what do you think would have happened if I hadn’t been here?”

“I’d have called the police,” she said.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he shouted. “You’d have come down here to investigate and probably gotten yourself assaulted or murdered or both.”

“You don’t know that,” she said, shoving her curly hair out of her face. Her eyes snapped blue fire and Fisher took a moment to appreciate how pretty she was when she was mad. The realization only made him crankier. “Do you even own a personal protection device?”

“A what?”

“Pepper spray? Mace? A gun?” he asked.

“Never!” She shook her head and turned away from him. Lifting a chair from the floor, she said, “I don’t believe in them.”

“Oh, for crying out lo...” Fisher cut himself off knowing the angry outburst would gain him nothing. “What do you mean you don’t believe in them?”

He strode over to where she struggled to right a table and helped her lift it up.