CHAPTER 23

A loud, insistent buzzing woke Lexie the next morning. Groggily, she opened her eyes, momentarily confused about where she was. But when she pulled the sheet off her head and exposed her face to the frigid air, she figured it out fast. Her house was never this cold. In a rush, she remembered everything that had happened the evening before on the Green—the Halloween celebration, Frank’s appearance, and Cole’s insistence on bringing her to the Bishops’ house.

It finally permeated her consciousness that the buzzing was her phone vibrating on the wood nightstand. Lexie glanced over at the electric clock flashing the time. Five A.M. Who would be calling at such an unholy hour? She snaked her arm from the warmth of the covers to grab her phone. “Hello?” she said, her voice sounding throatier than she’d anticipated.

“Lexie, hi.” It was Sebastian, his voice resonating throughout her entire body.

“Oh, hello.” Lexie tried to keep cool even as a hundred questions flashed through her mind.

“Lexie, I heard from Cole that you had a rough night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“I … I appreciate that,” she said. This wasn’t what she was expecting to hear.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No. No thank you.” Really, what could he do from so far away? Send comfort food? Provide armed guards?

“I’ve missed you, Lexie.” His voice was low, seductive, and impossible to resist.

“I’ve missed you too, Seb,” Lexie responded, trying to keep the sadness from creeping into her voice.

“Come to New York,” he said abruptly. “Please.”

“Wh-what?” she said, not sure she’d heard him correctly.

“Take a few days off and come to visit me. I miss you. You miss me. I want to see you. Make sure you’re all right. Please come.” Seb’s heartfelt plea sent shivers down her spine.

“Okay,” Lexie heard herself agreeing.

“Good.” Sebastian immediately sounded more like his confident self. “The sooner you take a break from Star Harbor the better. I’ll expect you by the end of the week.”

“But Sebastian, I—”

“Gotta dash. I have a meeting at five-thirty. Stay safe, Spice.”

He hung up.

Lexie held the phone up to her ear for a few long moments after he was gone. The silence of the dead line echoed loudly. She was stunned by his brusque arrogance. For all he knew or cared, she could have catering obligations this week.

As it happened, she didn’t. A sneaking suspicion crept over her. Had he talked to Buster? Even if he had, Buster wouldn’t have told him anything. Unless Buster thought it was wise for her to leave town. Then he would have done all he could to help Sebastian.

Lexie frowned. She hated being conspired against. Slowly, she pulled the phone away from her ear and snuck her hand from underneath the covers to place it back on the table. As soon as her hand hit the cold air she shivered, despite the fact that the rest of her body was still beneath the warm covers.

Yeesh, it was cold in this house! What she wouldn’t give for a space heater and a hot cup of tea to launch her into the morning.

In a way, it was good thing that Sebastian had called. In her haste to get out of the cold air last night, she had forgotten to set an alarm. She needed to be up and out of here soon, and she wondered if Cole intended to escort her to her restaurant.

Lexie didn’t have long to wonder. She heard the sound of a shower door opening and the water being turned on. Ten minutes later, Lexie herself was ensconced in the warm mist of the shower in the guest bathroom. Before she stepped out, she steeled herself against the freezing blast of air that she knew was coming.

Cole was waiting for her when she got downstairs, his striking looks and imposing figure no less a reminder of his relationship to Sebastian this morning than it had been last night. Or anytime she saw him. Jimmy was there too, and the sight of the two enormous men in the small, homey farmhouse kitchen almost made her laugh.

“Good morning,” Jimmy said, smiling. “I hope you slept well.”

“Yes, thanks.” Lexie decided that saying something about the Bishop house’s frostiness might be construed as insulting.

“Good.” Jimmy said. “We’re just having coffee. Want a cup?”

“No thanks, but I’ll take some tea if you have any.”

“I think Emma keeps some up here,” he said, opening up a high cabinet. “Ah, yes. Here it is.” He pulled it down. “This okay?”

“Perfect.”

Jimmy took another mug from the cabinet, poured hot water into it, and dunked the tea bag in before handing it to Lexie.

“Thanks.”

“So,” Cole said, taking a sip of his coffee and eyeing her over the side of his mug, “I’ll be driving you to work today. And I think it’s best if you stay here for the time being.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

He nodded. “I know I am. If the man at the Green last night really was Frank Doherty, he’s certainly not obeying the terms of the restraining order. Still,” he mused, “it’s troubling that he was so bold. There were more than two hundred people on the Green last night, and he still felt you were unprotected enough to approach you.”

“I’m just annoyed that I feel like I’m in hiding when I haven’t done anything wrong,” Lexie said with a sigh.

“Look, if you lived with someone or if you didn’t work such late hours, I wouldn’t worry as much. But you lead a very independent life, and there’s not always someone around to keep tabs on you.”

Lexie snorted. “I’m either at the LMK or I’m at home.”

“We both know that’s not true. Buster told me that you take frequent trips to farmers’ markets, and now you’re doing more traveling with the catering work you’ve started. You’re alone a lot, and that’s what worries me the most.” Cole glanced over at Jimmy and then quickly looked around, as if to ascertain that no one was coming. He lowered his voice. “Emma is especially concerned about your safety, and she suggested you stay here until all of this gets resolved.”

Jimmy nodded solemnly.

Lexie held up her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, I get it. People care about me.”

“Not just people,” Cole said. “Friends.”

Lexie sighed. “So what am I supposed to do? Have a police escort everywhere I go?”

“Honestly? Yes. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I want someone with you at all times. When you’re going to and coming from work. When you’re running errands. When you’re working late. And you can’t stay at your place alone anymore. At least not until we figure out where Frank is and what he’s up to.”

“Well, if it’ll make things easier, I think I may be heading out of town later this week.”

Cole brightened. “It would. I’d get the chance to get some work done on this case without worrying about your safety. Where are you going?”

“New York.” Lexie stared at Cole, daring him to react. If she’d hoped to get a rise out of him, she was disappointed.

Cole kept a perfectly neutral look on his face and when he spoke, his voice was calm. “Good. I’m glad you’re getting out of town and I hope you have fun. How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“I haven’t decided yet. A few days, probably.”

He nodded. “Let me know, and I’ll make sure the Sheriff’s Department has you covered before you leave town and after you get back.”

At that moment, Emma walked through the door frame. “Lexie, hi! How was your night?” She wrapped one arm around Jimmy’s waist and leaned into him.

“Fine, thanks. I really appreciate your hospitality. And so soon after you got back from your honeymoon. I know it’s a big imposition.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m just happy we can help out while things are … unsettled,” she finished diplomatically.

“So you’re off to work early, both of you?”

“Actually,” Emma said carefully, “we knew you get up so early, so we just shifted our schedules a bit to accommodate your early mornings at the LMK.”

Lexie was truly touched. “You did this for me?”

“It wasn’t a big deal at all. We were happy to help.”

“I can’t believe you two,” Lexie said, looking from Emma to Jimmy. “You are incredible friends. And Cole, sleeping here instead of at Val’s.” She put her tea mug down on the kitchen table, then walked up to them. “Come here, all of you,” she said, pulling them in for a group hug. Then she laughed. Though Emma was small, Jimmy and Cole were huge. She felt like a child hugging her parents. “I just want this to be over with so I can get back to my life and you can get back to yours.”

Emma gave a quick look to Cole. “We know. But it’ll be so much safer this way.”

Lexie nodded in agreement.

* * *

It was settled. Lexie was to work Tuesday through Friday morning, and then she would leave for New York City after the breakfast rush. Buster would be in charge Saturday and Sunday, and she would return late Monday before the LMK reopened for breakfast on Tuesday.

Lexie still wasn’t certain whether or not Buster had blabbed to Sebastian about her catering schedule, and she probably never would be. Buster was keeping his mouth shut, and Lexie knew from experience that once he had made up his mind not to talk, nothing could sway him.

Because of her light work schedule, Lexie was optimistic that things would go smoothly at the LMK while she was away. Unfortunately, there was one potential problem she should have taken into account—their unreliable produce supplier.

“Buster!” Lexie yelled into the grill room from the prep kitchen at six-fifteen on Tuesday morning. “Did you hear anything from Art?”

Buster ducked his head into the kitchen and shook his head. “No.”

Lexie tapped her foot impatiently. “He was supposed to drop the produce off at five forty-five. It’s already after six! We need that stuff.”

“Did you check with Marlene about getting out of the contract?”

“I forgot.”

Buster grunted. “Call Art to figure out what’s going on.”

“Argh,” Lexie grumbled. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with before her vacation. She picked up the wall phone and dialed. Then she hung up and dialed again. Both times, the phone rang and rang, but no one picked up. “Buster! I’m not getting any answer,” she complained.

“Leave a message.”

“I can’t. The answering machine isn’t picking up.”

“Try his cell.”

Lexie found her small address book and dialed Art’s cell phone. He picked up on the fourth ring.

“Art, hi. It’s Lexie Meyers here at the LM Kitchen. We’re missing some produce from you guys. Are you running late, or what?”

“Late? You haven’t gotten your stuff yet?”

“Art, this has got to be the fourth time in two weeks you or your guys haven’t delivered on time. And we’ve been having trouble for well over a month! It’s getting tough for me to keep justifying buying from you.”

“Look, I’m really sorry the boys are late. I don’t know what’s going on. I’ll call them.”

“Call them? You mean you’re not even there?”

“Not this morning, no.”

Lexie sighed. “Art, I can’t wait. Breakfast at the LMK starts at seven-thirty. I need those supplies now. In fact, I needed them half an hour ago.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Art said. “The distribution center is at the Grange—you know, that old farm building by Mashpee Road. If you need the stuff right away, you could go down and pick it up yourself. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the best I can do for you. I’ll give you a fifteen percent discount on the goods, and I won’t charge for delivery.”

Lexie sighed again, hoping that Art could tell how irritated she was. “I don’t think we have a choice. I’ll head down there. But Art? If this keeps happening, I’m going to have to find someone else.”

“I understand, Lexie. Thanks for giving me another chance.”

She hung up the phone and shook her head. The fact that Art wasn’t even at the warehouse this morning signaled to Lexie that he wasn’t on top of the day-to-day operations of his own business.

“Buster,” Lexie called, “I got through. We’re going to the Grange to get our stuff. You’re driving.” Just then, Isis and Jenny came through the door.

“Can’t one of them come with me?” said Buster, indicating the two women. “You’re better off staying here. Safer.”

“No,” Lexie said. “I’m the one who orders the produce, and I’m the one who approves it. Besides, I’ll be with you.” She turned to the women. “Ladies, Buster and I have to run a quick errand. Can you hold down the fort until we get back?”

“Absolutely,” Isis responded. “Just give me this morning’s instructions.” Lexie gave her a rundown on what still needed to be done. “We may not make it back for an hour. Open on time and do the best you can. Make me proud.”

Isis nodded. Buster plucked his worn coat from its hook and fished his keys out of his pocket.

“See you soon, ladies,” Lexie said.

She and Buster drove in companionable silence. Within twenty minutes, they had arrived at the gravel driveway that led to the Grange. Unfortunately, someone had blocked the end of the driveway with a chain rope attached to two concrete posts and Buster couldn’t navigate his pickup truck around it.

“There’s no way we can carry the produce from the Grange back to the truck,” Lexie said. “I haven’t been here in a while, but I bet it’s at least a hundred yards to the Grange. See it through the trees?” Lexie pointed it out.

Buster grunted and got out of the driver’s side door. He examined the chain for a few moments, then walked back to Lexie, who was still in the passenger’s seat. “Bolted in. We’ll have to get one of Art’s guys to unlock it. Stay here.”

“No. I’ll come,” she said, undoing her seat belt.

“Lexie—” Buster warned.

“What’s the big deal?” she said.

Buster sighed, and Lexie knew she’d won. Grinning, she jumped out of the seat and slammed the door. She and Buster hopped over the chain and began the short trek to the Grange. As the old farm building came into view, Lexie took a second to appreciate its quiet beauty. Long and rectangular, it was about half the size of a football field, with peeling, faded red paint and a dull bronze weather vane on top. It was set in a large clearing, desolate and stark, surrounded by trees stripped of their leaves.

This was the old, real Cape Cod. Lexie took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, which now contained a hint of winter.

They had just reached the first window on the structure when, all of a sudden, Buster stopped in his tracks and grabbed her arm. Before she could think to ask him what was going on, he’d pressed her back against the side of the Grange and put his finger up to his lips, signaling that she should remain quiet.

His intense expression made her disinclined to argue. He indicated she should stay still, then he carefully wiped grime from the glass and peered inside.

Lexie’s heart was galloping in her chest. What was going on? Just then, she heard a man shouting. The pounding in her chest grew even louder.

Buster jerked his head away from the window. In two seconds, he was beside her, grabbing her arm. “Run, Lexie. Run!”

Before she could so much as turn, three large men burst from the side of the Grange and sped toward her and Buster. Surely they’d catch up to them in a matter of seconds.

“Get out of here! Go!” Buster yelled.

But she was frozen where she stood.

The men surrounded them in seconds. One carried a large knife. Another had some kind of metal hook. And the third held a length of chain.

“The woman didn’t see anything. Let her go,” Buster said.

The man with the hook laughed. “No can do, pal. You’re both staying. Permanently.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Buster said quietly.

“Yes,” Lexie piped in. “A big mistake. There’s a whole restaurant full of people who know exactly where we are right now and when we’re supposed to be back. You’d better let us go or else they’ll call the police.” Lexie’s voice sounded breathless, even to her own ears.

“We’ll be long gone by then, lady,” he laughed. “And so will you.” He stepped toward them menacingly, brandishing his wicked hook.

Lexie would never forget what happened next.

As the man stepped toward them, Buster reached out casually, as if he was about to shake his hand. In less than a second, Lexie heard a crunching noise. Dimly, she realized that Buster had broken the man’s wrist.

Lexie didn’t even have time to blink before the man let out an unholy scream. “You bastard! You broke my wrist! Get him!” he screamed to his cohorts.

The man with the knife stepped forward. Buster had him disarmed in under three seconds, and when the man grabbed him by the arms Buster brought his booted foot down in a well-placed stomp on his attacker’s leg. Screaming in pain, the man fell to the ground, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle.

Buster looked expectantly at the man with the chain. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem brash or cocky. He simply waited quietly, a determined look in his eye.

This man is the most dangerous. Instinctively, Lexie knew she should not be anywhere near these two men when they went on the attack, and she backed up against the side of the Grange.

Buster and the chain man circled each other warily, sizing each other up and ignoring the two men who were writhing in pain on the ground. They were about the same size and the same build—tall and lanky. Buster looked to have twenty years on the other man, which would surely put him at a disadvantage. Lexie got ready to run, just in case Buster wasn’t the victor. She prayed she wouldn’t have to.

The man lashed out with his chain, swinging it hard. It hit Buster in the upper back, making him stumble with the force of the impact. Lexie gasped as she saw Buster’s face contort in pain. While Buster was bent over, the man smashed him on the back again. Unconsciously, Lexie brought her hand to her mouth to muffle her own cry of anguish.

The man brought his arm back to smash the chain down again, but Buster dropped and rolled out of the way. When he was clear of danger, he stood up and stared the man down. Once again, he tried to hit Buster with the chain, but Buster had seemingly caught on to his pattern. As the chain lashed out, Buster caught it in his hand and yanked hard and low.

Caught off balance, the man stumbled, but he didn’t let go of his end of the chain. It was a mistake. As the man’s arm dipped, Buster lifted his leg and cracked it down hard. Lexie heard a sick snapping sound as the man’s forearm broke.

Buster let go of the chain and the man crumpled to the ground. Meanwhile, the man with the broken wrist was trying to get up. Buster grabbed him by the shoulder, turned him over, and punched him once, right in the face. He slumped to the ground.

Buster looked up at Lexie, breathing hard. Lexie rushed over toward him, dodging the men on the ground. She wrapped her arm around his back and tried to help him stand.

“Buster, oh, my God! We have to get out of here. Come on.”

Buster rose with obvious stiffness. Lexie still had her arm around him when she felt something sticky. She pulled her hand away and saw blood. It was seeping through Buster’s shirt, which had been flayed by the chain. The sight of his blood combined with the snap of breaking bones, which was still ringing in her ears, made her sick to her stomach.

She suppressed the urge to vomit, knowing they needed to get away from the Grange as quickly as possible. Together, they stumbled back to Buster’s truck. Lexie helped him into the passenger seat and took the wheel herself, wiping her bloody hand on her jeans.

“Key?” she asked, holding out her clean hand. Buster placed it into her waiting palm and without any further delay, she shoved it into the ignition. Lexie rolled down her window to get some fresh air. She breathed deeply in and out, trying to settle her stomach. After they’d been driving for a moment, Lexie spoke.

“Buster, what did you see inside the Grange?”

He shook his head.

“This is ridiculous. They’ve already pegged me as someone to kill, regardless of what I saw or didn’t see. You may as well tell me.”

Buster was quiet for a long time. Then he spoke, his voice gravelly. “Dope. Looked like that new designer junk they’re peddling on the streets—‘bath salts,’ they call ’em.”

Lexie was confused. “Bath salts? Like the stuff you throw in the tub?”

He shook his head. “ ‘Bath salts’ is just the drug’s nickname. It’s really mephedrone or MDPV, both powerful stimulants and hallucinogens. You can smoke it, snort it, eat it, inject it—whatever. Has a fishy smell, which is why I’m guessing that’s what it was.”

“Drugs?” exclaimed Lexie. They were going to have a lot to tell Cole. Where was her phone?

“Yeah, the Feds just labeled it a Schedule 1 drug, but those guys were pros. I’m guessing they were cutting it with other stuff. Maybe cocaine.”

All she needed to hear was the word “cocaine.” “I think my cell is in my right-hand coat pocket,” Lexie said with urgency. “Can you reach it?” Buster stuck his hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone. “I have Cole’s cell programmed in. He asked me to do it in case Frank showed up.” She shook her head. Being attacked by drug dealers was a million times worse than dealing with Frank.

Buster dialed the number, and in a few terse words, he explained what had happened.

“Cole’s on his way out here,” he said. “He’ll pick up whoever’s left. Could you, ah, drop me by the doctor’s office?”

Lexie gave him a sharp look. “You know you’re hurt badly, then.”

“Yeah,” he laughed ruefully. “You get to be as old and as worn as I am, and you can feel it. The skin wounds are just superficial, but I think I have a couple of broken ribs.”

“Oh, God,” Lexie said, her voice choked. “Can you call Julie Kensington to let her know we’re coming? Her office number’s programmed into my phone, too.”

Buster started scrolling through her contact list. “Don’t worry, Lexie. I’ll heal. Besides, I’ve had worse.”

“You’ve had worse?”

“Spent six years on the amateur boxing circuit. Spent another two underground.”

Lexie was almost afraid to ask. “What does ‘underground’ mean?”

“You’ve seen Fight Club?” he asked.

“I’ve heard of it.”

“It’s kinda like that.”

“Isn’t that something you do when you’re young? Not that you’re old,” she said hastily. “It’s just that your body would probably take a lot of wear and tear.”

“Yeah,” he said. “You’re right. I spent a few years after that acting as a bouncer for some of the high-end nightclubs in Boston. Then I got tired of all of that and I learned how to cook.”

Lexie was quiet for a few minutes as she absorbed what Buster had just told her. “Buster, I can’t believe it took getting beaten up for you to share all of this with me. Thank you.”

He gave her a small smile that looked more like a grimace. “Should have known you wouldn’t have guessed. Cole’s known for some time. Had me pegged as an ex-fighter the moment he laid eyes on me. Said my hands gave me away.”

Lexie rolled her eyes. “Of course he knew. Those Grayson men know everything.” She snorted. “Or they think they do.”

As they entered Star Harbor’s historic downtown area, the pavement turned to cobblestones. Lexie tried to drive as carefully as possible over the bumpy road so as not to exacerbate Buster’s pain. Still, she noted that every time she ran over a particularly hard bump, his typically stoic gaze wavered.

They arrived at the doctor’s office in short order. Lexie parked and helped Buster inside. Within moments, Julie, her nurse, Lisa, and her receptionist, Cloris, had swarmed around Buster and whisked him back to one of the patient rooms.

“Lexie,” Julie called out to her as she was heading down the hall with Buster in tow, “feel free to let yourself out. This is going to take awhile.”

That was fine by Lexie. She slipped out the front door and back into Buster’s truck.

The morning had not gone at all as planned. Now, in addition to having no produce, she also had no grill cook. “Great. Just great,” she muttered to herself, feeling guilty for dragging Buster to the Grange, on top of everything else.

At least she could take care of the produce. She drove to Martins’ Market, and in record time, everything that was needed for the day was loaded into Buster’s truck. She hadn’t had time to select the perfect carrots or blemish-free eggplants, but honestly, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

She drove back to the LMK, parked behind the restaurant, and stormed through the back door, startling her staff, who were in various stages of preparation for the breakfast crowd. Glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall, she did a double-take.

Seven-fifteen. Had she really been gone for only an hour?

“All right, everyone, listen up,” she said loudly. Everyone dropped what they were doing and turned to her. “Buster has been hurt.” There were gasps from the group. “He won’t be returning today. I’ll tell you what happened later, but right now I need someone to cover the grill.” Scott Watkins raised his hand. “Great, Scott. You got it. Next, I need three folks to help me carry in the produce. It’s in Buster’s truck outside.” Three of her larger male staff members immediately ran to the kitchen’s back door. Lexie walked to the sink and began to scrub her hands clean. “Isis and I will take produce prep. Isis, an update, please.”

“We prepped what little produce we had. Proteins are under control. Muffins, coffee cake, and morning buns are out and in the display case. Croissants are baking, and cakes are on deck to be iced.”

“What about dining room setup?”

“Rachel supervised everything and we’re ready to open. Coffee’s up and places are set.”

“All right. Sounds like things are decently under control. We’ll be playing catch-up with the bulk of the produce, but we’ll just have to make sure we get it done.”

Isis nodded.

Then her team brought the first load of produce through the door, and for the next three hours, Lexie lost all rational thought.

* * *

By ten-thirty that morning, Lexie was ready for a hot bath and a warm bed. She felt like she’d been run through a wringer. As the breakfast service was winding down, she wasn’t at all surprised to see Cole Grayson walk through her front door. When he’d dropped her off at the LMK that morning, he hadn’t been in full uniform, so he must have changed after examining the scene at the Grange.

“Lexie,” he said politely, tipping his hat, then taking it off completely as he moved into the restaurant. “Do you have a few minutes to come down to the station to talk to me?”

Lexie glanced around. Everything was under control, and now was as good a time as any. She reached back to untie her apron. “Yes. Have you talked to Buster? Is he okay?”

“Buster’s fine. He’s in good hands.”

“Thank God! Just let me check with Isis to make sure everything is under control in the kitchen. I’ll just be a moment.”

Cole nodded his assent, and Lexie went back to the kitchen. Things looked relatively calm. “Isis?”

“Yes, Lexie.”

“You’re in charge again. For about an hour. Prep lunch as planned. We should be back on track.”

Isis glanced at the dried blood on Lexie’s jeans. “Lexie, what’s going on? The servers heard some rumors about you guys getting into some kind of trouble this morning. And I heard that all of Mashpee Road is blocked off near the Grange where you and Buster were—”

Lexie cut her off. “Isis, don’t worry. We’re fine and we’re not in any trouble. I’ll explain everything later, I promise. For now, the most important thing you can do for me is to make sure the LMK is running smoothly.”

Isis nodded and turned back to her work. As Lexie passed back through the door frame to the dining room, she heard Isis calmly calling out orders to the line cooks. And for the first time that day, Lexie smiled. The LMK was definitely in good hands.

Cole was waiting where she’d left him, and he escorted her to his squad car. As soon as they started to drive, he began to question her.

“Why did you and Buster go to the Grange this morning?”

“To pick up our produce.”

“Isn’t that usually delivered?”

“Art’s been dropping the ball recently. I talked to him this morning and he told me to go pick it up myself. Why? Did you talk to Art? Is he involved?”

Cole set his lips in a straight line before speaking. “We don’t know yet. We’re still trying to contact him.”

“I can’t believe he’d knowingly allow his warehouse to be used for something like this. He’s been scatter-brained, but he’s not evil. And he’d have to be pretty stupid to send us over there for a produce pickup, knowing what was happening.”

“We don’t know anything yet,” Cole repeated. “How many people were at the Grange, not counting you and Buster?”

“I saw three, but I didn’t look inside. Buster may have seen more. Why? Did you get the three guys who attacked us?”

“Yes, but we believe there was at least one more who got away.” He glanced over at her. “I’m going to have to ask you these questions again for the record, you know.”

Lexie nodded. “I know. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I’m just glad no one had a gun on them when they found you.”

Lexie let out a brief, nervous laugh. “Star Harbor is such a safe, unassuming town. Why would people like that set up shop here? What exactly was happening at the Grange?”

Cole hesitated, as if debating whether or not to tell Lexie the whole story. Then the expression on his face changed, and Lexie knew he was going to talk. “You know there’s a huge East Cost drug-running operation from Canada to Miami. Boston was originally a big way station, but the cops there have been cracking down. Based on a few clues, this being the latest, my old partners at the Boston Police Department and I now think that operation has been moved, in part, to Star Harbor. You and Buster inadvertently stumbled upon one of the distribution centers for the drugs we believe are being run through the town. We think there’s more than one center, but the Grange seems to have been the main one.”

“Will the men you caught talk?” Lexie asked, totally stunned and simply trying to absorb it all.

“Seems like at least one will, but there’s no telling how much he knows about the full operation. Still, any piece of information we can get will be helpful.”

They arrived at the sheriff’s station, and Cole escorted her inside. Rhonda Lee, her hair in its usual teetering bouffant, looked at her with abject pity as she was ushered into a conference room.

Lexie spent the next hour with Cole and Hank, fielding questions about her trip to the Grange, the fight, and their drive back. Lexie thought she was a sight less useful than Buster. After all, she hadn’t even seen anything. But Buster had been taken to Barnstable County Hospital in Pocasset, and Cole hadn’t had the chance to interview him fully yet.

After she’d told them all she could remember, Cole asked Hank to drive her back to the LMK.

“I’ll be by later this evening to take you back to the Bishops’ place, okay, Lexie?” Cole asked, slipping out of cop mode and into friend mode.

“Okay. Give me a call before you come over, all right?”

“Will do.”

Lexie allowed Hank to hand her into a squad car. He drove through the streets carefully, as if recognizing that she had been shaken up enough for one day.

“Lexie,” he said, his warm baritone voice filling the space in the car, “if there’s anything I can do for you, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Lexie read between the lines. He wasn’t pressing her, but he was definitely offering more than just his services as a deputy sheriff. Hank was a good-looking man with a wide, warm smile. She wished she were interested. It would have been so easy to fall into a relationship with him. But she needed to follow things through with Sebastian. “Thanks, Hank. I appreciate it,” she murmured.

“Anytime, Lexie. I’d never want to see anything happen to you.”

They arrived back at the LMK just as the lunch service was about to begin. Though she was exhausted, Lexie was more than happy to have work to do that would keep her mind off everything she’d seen that day.

But snatches of the morning kept trickling back to her in spite of her best efforts. Perhaps it was the shock wearing off, but she couldn’t keep the images out of her head. The look on Buster’s face when he told her to run. The sharp point of the hook carried by one of the drug runners. The nauseating crack of broken bones. The blood pooling on the ground.

Lexie shook her head to stave off the nausea and dizziness that threatened to overtake her. What a horrible surprise it had been to find out that the Grange was being used for drug trafficking! And what an unexpected revelation to find out that Buster was a former fighter!

Now she knew where his quiet intensity came from—how he was constantly watching, waiting, weighing, sizing things up.

It actually made Lexie feel a whole lot safer to have him around. Or it would once he was fully recovered. Again, the flash of guilt shot through her. It seemed as though she was putting her friends in jeopardy just by virtue of her very existence.

Cole hadn’t blamed her, but she blamed herself. Was she bringing all of this upon herself? No, that was a silly thought. How could she have foreseen that Art’s warehouse was being used for some nefarious purpose?

Still, the phrase if only kept running through her mind. If only she’d gotten a different supplier. If only she’d just forgotten about the damn produce that day and fired Art on the spot. If only she’d stayed in the truck, Buster could have escaped and driven them both to safety without her getting in the way. If only she’d run when he’d told her to run.

She couldn’t shake the troubling thoughts from her head, no matter how many cups of coffee she poured or how many slices of cake she served.