Page 5 of A Veteran's Desire

I point to the broken window and the glass all over the sidewalk.

“This isn’t storm damage.” I say it quietly, voicing my suspicions for the first time. “Look at the way the glass has fallen across the sidewalk. This is deliberate. Someone used the storm as cover to vandalize the bakery.”

I glance at Hannah through the shattered window. She doesn’t need to know until I can confirm.

“Don’t do any more cleanup here,” I tell Jace. “I’m getting Owen.”

I take a picture before anyone can clear it up and walk slowly back up the street looking for rocks. I get all the way to the top and don’t see any stray ones.

Owen’s speaking to an elderly man holding a broom, and I wait until he finishes before approaching.

“I need you to come check something out.”

He frowns. “Everything okay?”

“Could be something, could be nothing.”

But my gut tells me it’s not nothing. Besides, I missed something once and made the wrong decision. I won’t do it again.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

I grab a traffic cone from the back of Owen’s car and jog back down to Sweet & Strong where I place it over the rock. It could be evidence, and I don’t want it being swept away in the cleanup.

I haven’t spoken to Hannah yet, and if my suspicions are correct, I need to inspect the place before they disturb the evidence.

There’s no sign of forced entry on the door as I nudge it open.

The scent of coffee and baked goods lingers in the air, even though the ovens haven’t been on for two days. Despite the turmoil of the past few days, the long nights and the rescue missions, as soon as I enter the cafe, my chest lightens and fills with warmth.

Hannah is picking up pictures from the floor, and her smile when she sees me has my mouth going dry and my tongue tying more than usual.

But her smile is strained, and I see the pain behind it. The photo is a family one, her sisters all together with their parents before they passed. I’ve been here long enough to learn the tragic family history of the Baxter sisters, how they lost their parents and were raised by their grandparents, until their grandmother passed some years ago. Unable to keep the farm running, the girls opened Sweet & Strong. It’s a fixture of Hope, the cozy cafe with the photo wall reminding its patrons to hold on tight to those they love, seek connection while you have the chance, and that perseverance through adversity will always win out.

Until it doesn’t.

Hannah is clearing up the evidence of what I suspect is not just storm damage.

“Leave it.” I lunge toward her and put my hand over hers, accidentally knocking the picture to the floor where it lands face down in a puddle of water.

She gasps and grabs the picture, but it’s too late to rescue it from water damage.

“What are you doing?” She stands up with the picture in hand and a furious look on her face.

I curse myself and my clumsiness.

“You need to leave everything where it is.”

She shakes her head like I’m talking nonsense. “Rachel already took pictures for the insurance company. I just want to get this cleaned up.”

She’s distressed, and if I share my suspicions it will only make it worse. But I can’t have her clearing up evidence.

“Owen is coming down to take a look.”

She looks confused. “Is he doing that for every business?”

I ignore the question, not wanting to have to lie, and move through the cafe, sidestepping the broken glass and debris on the floor.

The photo wall is a shambles. Half the images have come down, and others are hanging at jaunty angles. It’s an odd thing for the wind to bring down a picture, unless they weren’t hung properly.