this area of the state since the summer before. Alex had heard rumors of drug trafficking, and there had been a few armed robberies in nearby towns. He wasn’t about to let anything like that go down here in his town.
Sparrow Lake was pretty much crime free. So far.
Owen got to his feet. “I’d better get back to work or my boss might fire me.”
Alex grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. But once the officer left the station, Alex found himself brooding over the problem.
Since Brian Lange had moved back to town the month before, he’d been hanging out with two high school students a year younger than he was. Alex had seen the three of them together, and to his way of thinking, the local boys idolized the California transplant and would do anything to impress him. Since his return, all kinds of odd events had started happening. Pranks that made people angry. The three boys had been sighted several times in the areas where pranks had been pulled, although no one had actually seen them in action.
Nothing serious. Yet.
And Alex wanted to make sure it stayed that way by nipping trouble in the bud.
While on the job in Chicago, he’d seen terrible things happen to kids because no one got in their way when they started down the wrong path. Things that destroyed their futures. Things that took away any future they might have at all.
That was the reason he’d left Chicago. He’d been part of a gang unit in the Chicago Police Department, and they’d been dealing with a crime in progress. A crazed, drug-ridden kid had fired at his team and then had pointed a gun straight at Alex. Instinct had kicked in faster than he’d had time to blink, and he’d fired his own weapon. He’d been in the right. Had done exactly as he’d been trained to do. After the investigation, he’d been exonerated. None of that mattered, not even the fact that the kid had survived.
Alex had kind of gone crazy after that.
Haunted by the what-ifs, he swore he wouldn’t let the kids here, in his town, get on such a self-destructive road when he could steer them down a more positive path before it was too late.
Feeling down just thinking about Chicago, he went to his office and tried to bury himself in paperwork, but he simply couldn’t concentrate. He needed a distraction, something to take away the dark cloud that hung over him. Something to make him smile.
A few minutes later, he found himself in his squad car heading back to Sew Fine.
CHAPTER FOUR
“YOU WERE SCHEDULED to work at nine this morning,” Kristen told Brian when he finally strolled in the door just before noon.
“I was? Oh, sorry. The time must have slipped my mind.”
He gave her an innocent expression, yet Kristen couldn’t tell if it was genuine. He was still a kid, though, and needed some guidelines.
Kristen sighed. “Maybe you should add your work schedule to the calendar on your phone.”
“I’ll do that.” Brian kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, sis.”
Okay, how mad at him could she be? Instead of chastising him, she gave him a big hug.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“I just missed you, is all.” She’d missed a lot of things while he was growing up, as Heather had reminded her.
His answering smile lit up his big blue eyes. He would be handsome if only he would grow out his faux-Mohawk haircut. The sides were sheared short and the top was spiked, making his already narrow face seem thinner. Not that she would make any suggestions in the haircut department and chance hurting his feelings.
Brian asked, “So what do you want me to do first?”
Not having wanted to leave the shards of glass from the window on the floor any longer, she’d swept them up herself. And after her talk about Brian with Heather, she’d gotten a better idea of how she could make him feel like a more important member of the Sew Fine team—by giving him more responsibility. Heather had enthusiastically agreed.
So Kristen asked, “How would you like to be in charge of fulfilling orders for the store?”
“What? You mean be a clerk? I don’t know anything about quilting.”
Kristen jiggled the box of orders written on scraps of paper. “I mean fulfill these. We need someone to be in charge of phoned-in orders, to make sure they all go out once each week.”
“You want me to be in charge of something?” Brian sounded surprised.
“Why not? This is a family business, and you’re part of the family.”
“Yeah, okay. What do I do?”
“Round up the items being ordered. If you need material cut, or you need to know what an item is or where to find it, ask Heather or Gloria. You’ll get the hang of how the store is organized fast enough. When you have everything in an order, package it and go on to the next one. When you complete all of the orders, sort them into store pick-up or mail. Then you can run the orders that need to be mailed over to the post office.”
Brian grinned and nodded. “I can do that.”
“Great. I’m installing a computer program so future orders will be more organized, but in the meantime, good luck with these.” She handed him the box.
Not looking in the least daunted, Brian took the handwritten orders over to one of the class tables and started sorting through them. Maybe having actual responsibility would make Brian feel more needed at the store, and encourage him to keep to the hours he was scheduled.
She’d assured her brother that he would quickly learn how the store was organized, something she hadn’t yet explored. She needed to know exactly what they were selling so she could get some marketing ideas. With that in mind, she decided to stretch her legs and take a more thorough look for herself.
Heather and Gloria were both busy with customers. As had happened yesterday around noon, the customers seemed to multiply, no doubt taking advantage of their lunch hours. So, thinking to get a more thorough idea of their product lines and whether or not they could display goods more effectively or perhaps offer some kind of incentive to customers, Kristen decided to check out the stock on her own.
Closest to the office space were shelves of books and videos about quilting. A half-dozen colorful baskets held samples of the patterns that were stored in a file cabinet. Notions—rulers, cutting tools, pins and needles, and spools of thread—took up the center of the store. And brilliantly colored fabrics were displayed closest to the windows to take advantage of the natural light. It was only when she was admiring some batik prints that she noticed a black-and-white patrol car stop next to the curb directly outside the store.
Pulse humming, she ducked down to take a better look at the driver...just as Police Chief Alex Novak looked back.
Was he checking up on her?
Without thinking it through, Kristen left the store to find out. Through the windshield, she could see that his expression changed, as if he hadn’t expected a confrontation. And then, appearing resigned, he got out of the
