Page 54 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

“Copy.”

Daphne rubbed her eyes and stared as he heaved himself off the couch. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Couple of break-ins,” he said, heading for his boots. “Jerry Barela got hit, along with Romano’s.”

“Jerry Barela?”

“Mm.”

“That’s odd. You think it has anything to do with us?”

“No idea,” he said, but it was a valid question. Just a few days after they’d gone asking questions, the man got broken into?

Daphne’s brows were drawn. “What’s Romano’s?”

“One of the Deacons’ restaurants, over on Main. You need help getting to the bedroom? I might be gone a while.”

“I’ll be fine,” she answered, shifting her leg so her foot rested on the ground. “I can hobble. I’ll put all this away,” she said, motioning to the pizza boxes. “Any special rules about where things go in the kitchen, or do you trust me to use my judgment?”

Smart-ass. Calvin bit back a grin. “I trust you. Call me if you need anything. Your room is the first door on the left. There’s a spare toothbrush in the vanity. Help yourself to anything you need.” He gave her a nod, threw on his belt and badge, and grabbed his jacket. He was at Romano’s within seven minutes. A cruiser was parked out front, and the lights inside the restaurant were on. After parking behind the vehicle, Calvin went inside.

“Oh, Calvin!” Jenna Deacon threw herself at him, causing him to stagger into the windows at his back. “It’sawful,” she said. “Just awful. Imagine if someone had been here!”

Using his hands to unclamp Jenna’s arms from his neck, Calvin pried himself free of her grip. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “I take it you’re managing this place?”

She sniffled and nodded. “My parents gave it to me to run. Once the renovations are done, I’ll be in charge of the restaurant.”

“Were you here when the break-in happened?”

“No. The alarm went off, and I was notified by the security company. They broke a window and came in through the back.”

Calvin nodded and crossed the room to get a report from the deputies on the scene. The front of the restaurant was unfinished, with bare drywall covering the walls and ceilings and drop cloths on the floor. The kitchen looked to be mostly finished, although it still needed to be stocked with food and cookware. It gleamed silver with stainless steel countertops and expensive-looking equipment.

He made his way to the staff bathroom, which was where the break-in had happened. The window at the back of the building, above the sink, was shattered.

“See? That’s where they came in,” Jenna said, pointing at the broken glass.

Calvin frowned as he inspected the scene. Shards of glass littered the sink and floor, but if someone had come in through the opening, they were either very small or they’d abandoned the endeavor as soon as they’d broken the window. No one could squeeze through that opening—the window didn’t open far enough to fit a human—and there was no evidence that someone had tried to squeeze their way inside.

He headed outside and inspected the alleyway at the back of the building. The doorway looked intact. No signs of forced entry. It was a thick steel door, so coming in through the window probably made sense. Picking the front lock would probably be a better bet, especially on a rainy night when everyone was indoors. But criminals weren’t always the brightest bulbs.

A dumpster had been pushed up next to the wall, just below the broken window. It was half-full of building supplies and the scraps of the workers’ lunches. An old, crusty mop was on the ground next to the dumpster, along with old food wrappers.

It was still raining, which meant any footsteps in the dirt and gravel were long gone. Calvin shone his flashlight all along the alleyway, then swung it up the wall and over the window.

He frowned.

A smudged, dirty handprint was visible on the wall just above the dumpster. It wasn’t a full handprint, just a few streaks that looked like four fingers and a thumb.

He returned to the restaurant.

“Was anything taken?” he asked Jenna.

Arms wrapped around her middle, she blinked at him with big brown eyes. “No,” she said. “We don’t even have any cash here, with the renovations ongoing.”

Nodding, Calvin did another walk-through. There were some tools stacked neatly in the corner. One of the tool bags was embroidered with Barela Contracting’s logo.

He jerked his chin at the bag. “Jerry Barela doing this renovation for you?”

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