Page 23 of Elsie's Strong Shelter

The scowl melted off Mrs. Pauly’s face. She fidgeted with her glasses. “I can tell him to call you the next time I see him, but I’m not even sure where he is or when he’ll be back. Heck, I don’t even have the boy’s phone number to pass along.”

“You mentioned he stored stuff here. Can we take a look at his room?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice growing unsteady.

Sensing they were losing Mrs. Pauly’s hospitality, Elsie scooted to the edge of the cushion and scooped the old woman’s hands in hers. She prayed Mrs. Pauly would sense her urgency. “Please. I know this is intrusive and maybe insensitive, but I don’t know what else to do. If there’s even a small chance we could find something to help us, I need to take it. Even a number for Justin, a receipt or check stub to tell us where he’s working. Something to find him to ask about Mila. If he hasn’t been here since the night Mila disappeared, and we know Mila was here, Justin may be in trouble too.”

Mrs. Pauly’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought about that. I figured he’s been out and about the way he always is.”

“Then let us see his room,” Dean pressed. “Let us find him and make sure he’s okay.”

Slowly, Mrs. Pauly nodded. “Okay. Go on down the hall. First door on the left.”

Elsie followed Dean down the hall. Holding her breath, she stepped into the room, only to be greeted by stale air and dusty furniture. “What are we looking for?”

“Anything out of the ordinary or that points to how we can find Justin. You had an impressive list of ideas for Mrs. Pauly. Ever think of being a PI?” He tossed a grin over his shoulder before opening the top drawer of a nightstand.

His praise heated her cheeks. “I think I’ll stick to retail, thanks. Find anything?”

He pulled out a handful of crumpled papers. “Hard to tell. The room may be neat, but this drawer is jammed full of crap.” Smoothing the first sheet, he laid it on the bed. “Nothing on this one but doesn’t mean the rest won’t have anything useful.”

While he analyzed what he’d found, she studied the small room. Only a tall dresser, nightstand, and full-sized bed occupied the space. The thought of rummaging through a strange man’s personal items gave her the ick, so she slid open the closet door instead. A few button-down shirts hung on the silver rod and a pair of nice shoes were tossed on the floor. “Not much in here.”

Deflated, she faced the bed. If she had something to hide, it wouldn’t be sitting in the closet or even placed in a drawer. She’d want it out of sight and somewhere an eighty-something-year-old woman wouldn’t accidently discover it.

She approached the bed and dropped to her knees. Lifting the green blanket, she peered underneath. A black duffle bag was wedged against the wall. She snagged a strap and yanked the bag loose, falling back on her behind. Wads of cash spilled from the opened top. “Umm, Dean. You might want to see this.”

Dean rounded the bed to stand behind her and whistled. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting to find.”

She peered up at him, eyes wide. “What does it mean?”

“Nothing good. But maybe we can find Justin at The Town Tavern and ask him.”

Frowning, she tried to follow his logic. “Isn’t that the bar over in Water’s Edge? Why would we find him there?”

“Because if all the wadded-up receipts I found are any indicator, that’s where he spends a lot of his time.”

Her phone rang in her pocket, and she hurried to grab it. “Hello?”

“Elsie, it’s Sadie.”

Her heart seized in her chest. “Did you find Mila?”

“No, but I need you to meet me at your store. There’s been an incident.”

Dean didn’t registerthe cold air as he stood in front of Sweet Repeats. Not when anger boiled his blood. He wanted to scream his frustration into the cold, dreary air but he bit the insides of his mouth to keep himself in check.

The front window of Elsie’s shop was shattered. Glass sparkled on the ground like the devil’s confetti. Bits of broken decorations from the display Elsie had lovingly put together lay discarded on the floor inside.

Passersby loitered on the sidewalk. They talked in hushed tones with their heads together or stared open-mouthed at the vandalism. Tommy spoke with a woman outside the bakery next door while Sadie stretched bright yellow crime scene tape across the scene.

Elsie shook her head and covered her mouth with her hand. “I don’t understand. Who would do this?”

Dean wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. A fierce protectiveness swept over him. “I don’t know but I’m sure as hell going to find out.”

Sadie finished attaching the tape to the busted window then approached them. “I’m sorry about this. You already have so much on your plate, but I thought you’d want to know about this right away.”

“Yes, of course,” Elsie said. “Thank God the store was closed. I’d hate it if someone was hurt. Have you been inside?”

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