“I’m one of the candidates for the job of cataloging the Frazier documents,” Gemma said quickly, stepping a little farther away from Colin. She didn’t want to be the cause of any gossip in the small town.
Judging from Tara’s blank look, she had no idea what Gemma was referring to. “If Colin likes you, then you have my vote.” She glanced at her basket. “I have to go before this thaws. Colin, thank you for . . . for everything.”
“You have my cell number. If you hear or see anything, call me and I’ll be there.”
“Thanks,” she said, then wheeled her cart away.
He turned to Gemma, looking as though nothing unusual had happened. “So this is the aisle where Ellie keeps the cereals. If you like Kellogg’s Raisin Bran—the kind that real people eat—you have me to thank for its being here. I told Ellie that if she didn’t start stocking Raisin Bran I was going to Williamsburg to—”
“What was that all about?” Gemma asked, cutting him off. “Please say you can tell me or I’ll go crazy trying to figure it out.”
Colin shrugged. “We don’t know anything for sure. Someone keeps walking through Tara’s flower beds in the middle of the night. Yesterday there was a light rain, so my deputy, Roy, could get some casts of the footprints. It’s an old-fashioned technique, but then we’re an old-fashioned town—and our budget is limited.”
“Do you think it’s malicious, meant to frighten her, or is it a robber . . . or worse?”
“No robberies, no outlet to her backyard, but it’s scared the daylights out of Tara. She’s having surveillance cameras installed.”
“And you offered her a place to stay,” Gemma said.
“Yeah, we mostly use the guesthouses for anyone who needs them. Ellie’s waving at us. Our sandwiches are ready.”
Gemma followed him to the back and waited as Ellie handed him a white bag.
“Did you talk to Tara?” Ellie asked.
“Yeah,” Colin said. “Whoever’s doing it doesn’t seem to mean any harm, but I’m going to be cautious.”
“You always are. Oh, by the way, Taylor took the boxes out to Merlin’s Farm this morning, so you don’t need to go. Did you meet our newest resident? Dr. Burgess?”
“Not yet,” Colin said, “but I’ve heard of him.” He turned to Gemma. “A retired professor of English history has moved here. He wants to be near Williamsburg, and he used to teach at Oxford.”
“Sounds interesting. I’d like to meet him.”
“I don’t think he’s in good health, poor man.” She looked at Gemma. “If you two are planning to eat outside, you should know that there’s a playgroup out there. Colin will be swamped.”
“Thanks for warning us,” he said, then moved aside for Gemma to go ahead of him toward the front. There was a big refrigerated cabinet full of fruit juice drinks near the registers. “Take your pick.”
“Anything with raspberries,” Gemma said as Colin held the door open. “What about you?”
“I’m a lemonade man.”
“Pink or yellow?”
He gave her a look.
“Yeah, right. My boys won’t touch anything pink either.”
“So now I’m one of your boys?” He led them to the end register where the girl greeted him by name. Colin held up their food, she nodded, and they left. It looked like he had an account there.
“If I say that you are one of my kids, will it get me the job?” she asked as they got to the door.
“Why do you think I brought you to the most public place in Edilean?”
“I have no idea.”
“By now at least three women have called someone in my family to say that you should be hired.”
“Why would they do that? They don’t know me from the other applicants.”