She cleared her throat and made her way into the kitchen. Upon seeing her, Karl stood and smiled. She wished she had a pot of coffee brewing and some pastries to offer. It was the least she could do after he had rushed over here and had humored her old man for a few minutes, something Ray never did. Ray had little patience for anything, and she was convinced beyond a doubt that Ray suffered from some undiagnosed form of ADD.
“False alarm,” she said, resting her hand on her father’s shoulder. “But thanks for coming.”
“I told you it was the wind.”
“Oh, it definitely was not the wind,” she said, laughing. He had seen the broken glass on the floor and was trying to be nice. “Hey, you want a cup of coffee?”
“I really should be returning to the station.”
“Oh, come on, Karl. Sit down. It’ll take only a few minutes to brew a pot. And it’s not like there’s tons of criminal activity going on tonight.” She filled the coffeemaker’s water reservoir and pulled out a bag of the expensive coffee she’d purchased from that café across from her shop. “Look, I have the good stuff, which I save for special guests. French roast.” She added the coffee grounds into the filter and switched the machine on.
“It’s been a slow night, and I certainly could use a good cup,” he said, sitting back down.
“Can’t imagine the police station splurges for good coffee.”
“Not with this chief in charge. Harry counts every penny.”
“Stay put. I need to put my father to bed, and I’ll be right back.” She guided her father to his small bedroom on the first floor, kissed him good night, and then tucked him under the covers.
“Thank you, Clara,” he mumbled. Clara was her mother’s name.
“It’s Isla, Dad. I’m your daughter, remember?”
“Yes, of course I remember. I’m not an idiot, you know.” He closed his eyes and rolled over.
“Sleep tight, Dad.”
She heard the coffee machine belching as soon as she entered the kitchen. How many years had it been since she purchased a new coffeemaker? Her heartbeat ticked a little faster at the prospect of being alone with Karl Bjornson. Good thing Ray was not around to see this, because he had never liked Bjornson, dating all the way back to high school. She remembered Ray teasing him in the hallway one day, in front of the other kids, and Karl taking it with good-natured stoicism, which had impressed her even back then.
The coffee finished brewing. She grabbed two cups, spoons, a bowl of sugar, and the pint of half-and-half and placed them on the table between them. When she put one of the cups down, she noticed a thick brown stain running along the rim. She prayed he didn’t see it. She quickly replaced the cup without saying anything, knowing Raisin had yet again failed to check the dishes before putting them away. She poured two cups, making a mental note to remind him to do a better job next time. Karl made no move for the cream or the sugar, which didn’t surprise her. He’d always maintained spartan habits.
He sipped his brew. “Great coffee.”
“Glad you like it.” Isla sat down across from him.
“The coffee at the station is the absolute worst, but that’s all we have on the night shift.”
“How did I know you liked gourmet coffee?” She smiled.
“I don’t know. How did you know?”
“Maybe a little bird told me.” She leaned forward in her chair, two hands wrapped around her cup.
“A feathered friend I might know?”
“I saw you sitting in Café Bello one day, while I was working on a customer.”
“Spying on me, huh?”
She sipped her coffee so as to hide her grin. “I’m thinking it was the other way around.”
“For your information, I sometimes go over there on my days off and work on police business. It’s nice and quiet in there, and the coffee’s good. Expensive but good.”
“Whatever you say.”
“You really think I was spying on you?” The subtlest hint of a smile came over his face.
“Just saying, buster.” She used to call him buster back in high school.
“What exactly are you saying?”
“It’s like the way you used to stare at me from your locker.”
“If I remember correctly, the feeling was mutual.”
She sipped her brew. “Any word on that missing kid from Harper’s Point?”
“Nothing. It’s as if he dropped off the face of the earth.”
“That’s too bad. His mother used to be one of my clients. Can’t even imagine what that poor thing