“What do you think?” she asked.
“Looks like the print of a running shoe.” Slade got to his feet. “Judging by the muddled footprints, he spent some time in this room and then went into the front of the shop. Turned around and came back here. Left the same way he got in. Through the back door.”
“Believe it or not, I figured that much out all by myself.”
“Yeah?” Slade raised his brows. “You ever think of pursuing a career in crime fighting?”
“Very funny. What do you think happened here?”
“I think someone found the door open last night, walked into the shop, took a look around and then left.”
“I told you, I locked up last night,” she said firmly.
Slade glanced at the lock on the back door. “Even if you did, all anyone would need to get through that door is a credit card.”
“I intend to order new locks. But there’s been so much else to do that I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“Good plan.”
She frowned. “Shouldn’t you be dusting for fingerprints or something?”
“Oh, yeah, and maybe swab for DNA while I’m at it. Thanks for reminding me.”
“You really are not going to treat this seriously, are you?”
He looked at her. “If you were in Frequency City and your shop got robbed what do you think the cops would do?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not much. Probably just ask for a list of stolen goods in case any of the objects turned up in a pawn shop.”
“Since nothing appears to have been stolen here and there are no pawn shops on Rainshadow, the scope of this investigation is somewhat limited.”
“Cripes. You’re really not into your job, are you?”
Slade shrugged. “It’s just a temporary detour.”
“It strikes me that you have a very poor attitude, Chief Attridge.”
“Okay, okay. Here’s the most likely scenario. Last night after closing up someone noticed that the door of your shop was open. He came inside, took a quick look around to make sure everything was okay, and then he left. How’s that for a theory of the crime?”
“Absolutely pitiful. But it’s obviously all I’m going to get in the way of law enforcement so I’ll take it.” She turned and went into the front room. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Depends. Is that a bribe? If it is, I think you’re supposed to include a doughnut.”
“Sorry, no doughnuts. Something tells me bribery would be useless with you, anyway.”
“What makes you so sure of that?”
“My intuition. You are in luck, however. I happen to have half a loaf of leftover zucchini bread that my neighbor, Thelma Duncan, made for me.”
“Thelma Duncan’s zucchini bread seems to be everywhere at the moment. Myrna brought a loaf to the station this morning. Rex ate it.”
“The whole loaf?”
“Well, he and Officer Willis split it. Turns out Rex loves Mrs. Duncan’s zucchini bread.”
“That’s good, because I’m told it will be around for a while. Mrs. Duncan is an incredible gardener and as it happens zucchini season just hit. I’ll cut a slice for Rex.”
She went behind the counter and unwrapped the zucchini bread. She was very aware of Slade watching her as she cut a slice and set it on a small paper plate. She set the plate on the counter.
Slade looked over his shoulder. “Come and get it, Rex. Zucchini bread.”
There was a muffled chortle from the vicinity of the vintage purses and bags. Rex appeared. He scampered across the room and bounded up onto the counter. He rushed to the plate of zucchini bread and fell to it with evident enthusiasm.
“Amazing,” Charlotte said. “You’d think after the loaf he shared with Willis this morning he would have had his fill of zucchini bread.”
“Not yet,” Slade said.
Rex polished off the slice of zucchini bread and bounded back down to the floor. He disappeared amid the array of antiques.
Charlotte ladled coffee into the filter. “Keep an eye on him, please.”
“That’s hard to do in this place.”
“I’m warning you—”
“I know. Your you-break-it-you-buy-it policy.”
“Right.” Charlotte poured water into the coffeemaker and started the machine.
There was a short silence behind her. She watched coffee drip into the glass pot.
“You never went for a full Covenant Marriage,” Slade said after a while.
Startled, she swung around. “No.” She took a deep breath. “No, I haven’t. Not yet.” She turned back to the coffee machine. “I take it you never went for a CM, either.”
“No. Tried a Marriage of Convenience somewhere along the line but it didn’t work out.”
The legally recognized Marriage of Convenience had been designed by the First Generation settlers as a short-term arrangement that allowed couples to experiment with commitment before moving into a full-blown Covenant Marriage. Young people were encouraged to try an MC before taking the plunge into a Covenant Marriage. An MC could be dissolved by either party for any reason, no harm, no foul. Unless there was a baby. A baby changed everything. In legal terms it transformed an MC into a full Covenant Marriage.
The legal and social bonds of a Covenant Marriage were as solid as alien quartz. There was a move afoot to make divorce easier but for now it was extremely rare largely because it was a legal and financial nightmare, not to mention social and political suicide.
Only the very wealthy and well-connected could afford a divorce, but they usually avoided it because the repercussions were major. Politicians could expect to be kicked out of office if they dared to break free of a CM. CEOs got fired by their boards of directors. Exclusive clubs canceled memberships. Invitations to important social functions dried up.
Most sensible people who found themselves in an untenable marriage simply agreed to live separate lives. But their social and legal responsibilities toward each other and their offspring were not affected. Family came first. Always.
The downside of making a poor choice when it came to a spouse ensured the stability of one profession in particular, that of matchmaking. Families did their utmost to make certain that couples were well matched by certified marriage consultants.
“You know,” Slade said, “I always figured you’d be matched by now. Maybe even have a few kids.”
“Did you?” She smiled over her shoulder. “I’m amazed you even remembered me, let alone thought about me during the past fifteen years.”
He reached into the pocket of his trousers and took out the black crystal pocketknife she had given him the morning he had sailed off to his new career in the FBPI.
“I thought about you every time I used this,” he said.
Delight sparkled through her. “You kept it all these years.”
“It’s a good knife.” He dropped it back into his pocket. “You were right about the blade. Still sharp and still strong. It saved my ass more than once.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She smiled, ridiculously pleased. “Nothing like a Takashima knife. How long did it take you to figure out how to open it?”
“I had it down by the time the ferry reached Frequency City. Takes a little talent to rez it.”
“Yes,” she said. “It does.”
“Since we seem to find ourselves stuck together on this rock for a while, would you be interested in having dinner with me tonight?” Slade asked quietly.
Although she had been fantasizing about him since she had watched him walk off the ferry last week, the invitation nonetheless caught her by surprise. She had to work hard to keep her response calm and light.
“Sounds great,” she said. “There are not a lot of options when it comes to restaurants around here. How about the Marina View?”
“I was thinking my place,” Slade said. “I’ll pick up some fresh salmon at Hank’s.”
“All right,” she said. “What can I bring?”
He pondered that briefly. “You’ll probably want something green to go with the salmon.”