It was well past four-thirty by the time they arrived back at Blueberry Acres. The sun that had been so bright that morning had disappeared behind a shield of low clouds blowing in from the west, pushed across the sky by a strong wind. Doc pulled up in front of the barn but left the truck idling. Candy started to climb out, then hesitated. “You’re not staying?” she asked in surprise.
Doc gave her that look he gave her so often these days, the one that told her he just couldn’t sit still right now. “I think I’m going to run over to the police station, see what I can find out about Ray. Maybe I can speed up the process to spring him.”
“But Dad, he’s not even there. He’s up in Machias, and so is the judge. These things take time.”
Doc shrugged impatiently. “I got to do something. Can’t just sit around here waiting.” He pulled the gear shift into reverse and revved the engine. “Want to come along?”
Candy didn’t have to think long before she gave him an answer. “No thanks. I’ve done enough of the Cagney and Lacey bit this week. It’s time for a break. I’m going to check on the girls, grab a glass of wine, and sit for a while.”
Doc nodded. “I shouldn’t be too long. Tell you what. I’ll swing back by to pick you up, and we can head to Duffy’s for dinner. It’s Thursday-you know what that means.”
“Duffy’s world-famous meatloaf special?”
Doc grinned. “Dripping in gravy with smashed potatoes and buttered peas. It’s a hard deal to pass up. What do you say?”
“Mmm, mmm.” Candy stepped back and swung shut the cab door. “My mouth is watering already.”
He laughed. “I knew I could tempt you. See you in forty-five minutes or so.”
Candy gave him a wave as she headed around the barn to the chicken coop. The girls were clucking away, happy and guileless as ever, scratching at the earth and poking around their coop. She fed and watered them, then checked to see if there were any other signs of forced entry-paw prints in the dirt around the exterior, dug-up earth, any place some predator might be trying to widen a gap in the cage with a sniffing nose or a clawing paw. But there was no evidence to be seen. The critter that had come around a few nights earlier hadn’t made another appearance-but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be back. With the blueberries ripe in the fields, animals came from all over to partake of a free meal. Birds were the worst culprits, of course-some days it looked like a feathered convention out there in the barrens-but deer also frequented the fields in the early mornings, and even a stray bear might wander out among the bushes at this time of year.
Candy made a mental note to keep Doc’s shotgun close by the back door.
She took a cursory walking tour of the property, just to check on things, then angled toward the house. Her mind wandering off on a myriad of different things, she climbed the steps onto the back porch, reached in her pocket for the house key-and froze.
Shards of glass littered the back porch near the door.
Her eyes jerked up.
One of the window panes in the door was broken, and the door itself was ajar.
Candy took a step back, forcing herself to stay calm as her heart thumped in her chest. She cast a look behind her, wishing Doc hadn’t left so quickly. But he was gone. She was alone.
Whatever was going on here, she would have to handle it herself.
She knew the smartest move would probably be to jump right into the Jeep and get the hell out of here. But this was her house, and Doc’s-she wasn’t about to abandon it to some wayward thief.
She took a few steps forward, avoiding the glass on the porch, and looked in through the door window. From here, she could see no one in the kitchen, no movement, no shadows that shouldn’t be there.
The place looked empty, but someone could still be here, in another part of the house.
She listened for a moment, holding her breath.
No stray footsteps, creaking floorboards, door hinges squeaking, heavy breathing-nothing to indicate that the person who had broken the window was still around.
Moving quickly and quietly, she pushed open the door, tiptoed to the kitchen closet, yanked it open, and pulled out Doc’s shotgun. Her eyes constantly scanning, on the lookout for a hostile intruder, she crossed to the junk drawer, pulled it open, and reached way in the back, her fingers groping for a box of cartridges. She grabbed half a dozen and pushed two into the gun’s magazine.
She pumped the action, thumbed off the safety, and tucked the butt into her shoulder, her finger resting lightly on the trigger guard.
She moved forward purposefully then, stepping first into the living room, turning a complete circle, searching everywhere at once, eyeing along the gun’s sights. Next, she went into Doc’s den at the back of the house. She searched quickly and thoroughly. Then on to the dining room, the downstairs bathroom, and the laundry room, working her way back to the kitchen.
Nothing.
She paused and listened again for any unfamiliar or revealing sound. But again, nothing.
Tucking the butt of the weapon deeper into her shoulder, lining up along the sights, she moved upstairs as carefully and quietly as possible. Naturally several of the steps creaked under her sneakers, but that couldn’t be helped.
Still, if anyone was up there waiting for her, they would know she was coming.
Adrenaline rushed through her body, her ears roared, her breathing sounded monstrously loud. But she ignored all those things. When she reached the top of the stairs, she moved efficiently, starting with the room to her left-a guest room. She checked the closet, under the bed, in the back corner behind the bureau.
Next was Doc’s bedroom. Same procedure, same results.
The upstairs bathroom, and then her room.
Five minutes later she was back downstairs in the damp, dimly lit basement, holding down her nervousness as she checked every corner, every shadow. Again, the search turned up nothing.
She lowered the shotgun and climbed the stairs back to the kitchen, her gaze still wandering watchfully. But she was fairly certain now that whoever had broken the window must have taken what they wanted and left.
Or maybe, she thought, it was just an accident-someone had come by to visit, gotten careless, and left guiltily before she and Doc arrived. But that seemed far-fetched.
More than likely, they had been robbed. Burglary was uncommon around these parts-some folks still left doors and windows unlocked-but not unheard of. Candy did a more thorough search of the house, still carrying the shotgun with her. Nothing seemed to have been taken-the TV, DVD player, checkbooks, and what little diamond jewelry she owned were all still in their places. Even the engagement ring Clark had given her way back when was still tucked into its place in a corner of her jewelry box.
She walked back into the kitchen. That’s when she noticed what was missing.
Sapphire’s files were gone-all of them.
Last she remembered, they had been sitting on the table in two piles, in front of Doc. Could he have taken them? It was possible, she thought, but that didn’t make sense. Where would he have taken them, and why hadn’t he told her if he had?
No, someone else must have taken them-someone who broke into their house for that purpose. But who? Who even knew she had them? She hadn’t told anyone about the files, except Herr Georg that morning, and she told him only about his own file. He couldn’t have known she had more. Ben knew she had some files, of course, and Maggie. But why would they steal the files from her? They could have had access to the files at any time-all they had to do was ask.
Candy was about to pick up the phone and call the police to report the break-in when it rang, making her nearly jump out of her skin.
“Damn, I hate phones,” she muttered to herself as she set the shotgun aside and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Candy! It’s Maggie!”
“Oh, hi, I-”
“Amanda’s gone!” Maggie cut in, sounding almost hysterical. “She’s run away! With Cameron!”
“What?”
“Amanda and Cameron-they’re gone! They took off!”
“Took off? Where? When?”
“I don’t know. I just got home. Amanda left a note. They must have left sometime this morning, after I went to work. They took Cameron’s car.”
Inexorably, Candy’s gaze was drawn to the place where Sapphire’s files had been.
“Cameron!” she shouted in realization. “That’s who took them! He’s the only other person who knew about them!”
“Knew about what?”
“Never mind. I’ll tell you later. Do you know where they went?”
Candy could sense Maggie’s anxiety. “I… I’m not sure. What’s going on? What’s this all about?”
“I don’t know yet,” Candy said, “but we’re going to find out. Stay where you are. I’m coming to you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
After she hung up, Candy made one more call, to the police station. She left word with Carol at the front desk, asking her to pass a message on to Doc: The house had been broken into. He needed to get back home as soon as possible.
Then she grabbed her purse and keys and headed out to the Jeep, sighing as she went. She had hoped to spend a quiet evening at home with a glass of wine and perhaps a good book. But it was not meant to be. She had more important things to do now.
Cameron. She shook her head in disbelief as she climbed into the front seat and started the engine. How had he got himself mixed up in all this? Why had he been so upset to hear about Sapphire’s death? What had he been doing in her secret room? And why would he have stolen the files?
What was he trying to hide?
She didn’t know, but she promised herself she would find out, one way or the other.