Page 2 of Midnight Secrets

I rolled my eyes. “Thank you. All right, let’s go inside.” Pebbles stuck her nose back in the snow. I growled through clenched teeth. “Pebbles, come.”

She lifted her head, considering.

“Pebbles, it’s time to go. Come.” Finally, she trotted toward the door. I opened it for her, then quickly stepped inside and shut it. I didn’t want her to dart out again. Urging the feisty animal to stay in the kitchen, I set the baby gate in the doorway, then picked up my things from the island, where I laid them last night. “All right, sweetie. You be good.”

Pebbles barked once, her daily protest about being left behind, then walked to her bed in the corner and picked up a stuffed teddy bear. She tossed her head with it in her mouth, then plopped down to snuggle.

I smiled. The little stinker tried my patience some days, but her cuteness made up for it.

Double-checking that I had everything, I left the house through the garage door.

CHAPTER 2

Claire

“Good morning.” I held open the door to The Cozy Cup and smiled at Mrs. Tewksbury as the older woman exited the building, a steaming vanilla latte in her hand. How did I know that’s what the woman carried? Because Mrs. Tewksbury had ordered the same drink every Monday for the last five years. Ever since the coffeeshop opened.

“Well, good morning, Claire. You’re running late today.”

“Yeah. Pebbles was being a stinker. Put me behind a bit.” Usually, I was in the coffeeshop, chatting with the owner—my best friend—by the time Mrs. Tewksbury arrived. There would be no chatting today, though.

“Well, I hope the rest of your day goes more smoothly.”

“Me too, thank you.”

“Bye, dear.” Mrs. Tewksbury waggled her fingers and strolled away, off to meet her friends for their morning walk.

I stepped inside the coffeeshop, letting the door swing closed. The bell overhead rang, announcing my arrival.

“Hey, you. Good morning.” Mina Kensington, my best friend, waved from behind the counter.

Waving back, I walked over to the pickup counter. “Can’t stay and chat. Got an early meeting.”

Mina gave me a thumbs-up. “Stop by later? I have something to tell you.”

“Oh?” I paused, my interest piqued.

Mina laughed. “It’s nothing that important. Just an idea I had. We’ll talk later.”

“Oh.” I glanced at my watch. I really wanted to know what Mina had to say, but I would be late—later—if I didn’t get a move on. “Okay. I’ll try to come back around lunch.”

“Sounds good.”

With another wave, I left. Juggling my purse and breakfast, I pushed the button on the door handle to unlock my car, then got in. The plush brown leather seat enveloped me, and I set my coffee in the cup holder. Tossing my purse and the bag with my muffin on the passenger seat, I closed the door and started the car. With a quick glance in my mirrors, I backed out of my parking space and headed around the corner to my office.

Homes by Holmes’s office was a quaint single-story white bungalow converted to office space probably thirty years ago, long before I bought it. Before I moved my real estate business in, it had been an insurance agency, and before that, a dentist’s office. But I liked the small building with its black shutters and black and white awnings. It was a little vintage and retro and a whole lot inviting. Deep red vases I kept on either side of the door all year-round spilled over with greenery. I’d removed the poinsettias and holly after Christmas, but it was too early to add spring flowers.

We were firmly in the doldrums of a southern Alaskan winter, but in just a couple of months, the warmth would return. We’d seen shades of it the last couple of days, actually. For February, it had been warm. Low to mid-forties with more rain than snow, though we’d seen a couple of skiffs, including one last night. In fact, it had been warm enough, lately, I’d taken several strolls on the beach just beyond my back fence. There wassomething awe-inspiring about watching the steel-gray waters of the Pacific in the winter.

Next week, though, they were calling for a return to more seasonable temperatures and another significant snowstorm. I’d be back to digging paths through the yard, so Pebbles didn’t disappear into the snow as soon as she stepped outside.

Tugging on the door, I let myself in. “Morning, Tamara.” I smiled at my receptionist, Tamara Martin.

“Morning, boss.”

“What are you doing here?” One of my realtors, Savannah Smith, poked her head out of her office. “I thought you had to go meet the staging crew at that house on Autumn Creek Road?”

“I do, but I wanted to drop off the contracts for the Spring Street sale so Tamara can make copies and get it all filed.” I shrugged one strap of my large purse off my shoulder and reached inside, removing a folder. I passed it across the desk to Tamara.

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