Page 35 of Dr. Scandal Claus

I looked through each exam room too, noting that nothing was missing. And last, I went to my personal office and grabbed my jacket off my chair. Even in here nothing seemed to be out of place, not even a scrap of paper moved. It baffled me thatsomeone had gone to the trouble of breaking the lock on the office door to get into my office but hadn't taken anything.

I carried my jacket back out the door and into the parking lot. One of the officers was there waiting. He had a pen and paper ready to make notes, but I had nothing to tell him.

"Nothing looks to be missing. I don't even see a piece of paper out of place." I shrugged my shoulders and looked back at the busted door. I'd have to hire a crew to come fix that. "Is there something we can do about the door? I have to head out of town."

"No, sir, I'm sorry. You'll have to handle that. We just make the report and find the bad guys…" He jotted something on his paper and looked up at the building. "I see security cameras. Do you have a recording box for those? Maybe we can lift an image."

"Uh, yeah…" I took the pen and paper from him and scribbled down the website he had to visit to see the cloud storage. Then I wrote the username and password down. When I had them installed it was only as a means to make my staff feel a bit safer. Now I was glad Emily had freaked out and insisted I do something after her papers were moved.

"We'll get right on this. In the meantime, if anything else happens or you find anything missing, let us know."

I thanked the officers and they left. I was stuck waiting for a full hour for a handyman to get here with a sheet of plywood and some nails to board up the broken door. Emily would freak out, but hopefully it would be after I was already back from this camping trip and here before the team arrived Tuesday morning. Then I'd have to get someone to install a new door and new locks.

By the time I got to Scarlett and Ethan, it was almost dark. She was patiently waiting, but Ethan and his friend were grumpy. We piled into my car and headed out, and they sang camp songs and talked about all the fun things we'd do thisweekend. Our hour-long drive grew quiet about forty minutes in when the boys both dozed off, and Scarlett laced her fingers through mine.

"Why were you so late?" she asked, and I tensed. I didn't want her to be scared or alarmed, but she had to know. She'd find out through rumors around town. And if something happened to her bakery and I didn't tell her about my office, she'd be upset.

"Someone broke into the office. I only found out because I left my jacket there and I stopped by to pick it up before coming to get you guys. The door was busted, but nothing seemed to be missing."

I felt her grasp on my hand tighten as I spoke. I could tell she was afraid. With everything that had happened this year so far, all we both wanted was peace. We couldn't enjoy dinner out without people whispering about us, and this weekend was supposed to be about getting away and relaxing. Now a dark cloud hung over it, casting anxious tension between us.

"What do you think they wanted? Who do you think it was?" Her questions should've been the first ones on my mind too, and one of them was. What did they want? But I didn't stop to think about who it was. In my mind it wasn't related to the rumors or gossip, or even the scandal. I chalked it up to a random break-in.

But Scarlett raised a good question. If this was the work of some gossiping no-good loser, they could be getting information for Marjorie. She wasn't beneath paying people to sniff out dirt on people, but what we were talking about here wasn't just a misdemeanor break-in. It was a felony. My office held people's private medical records. Tampering with them or stealing them was a federal offense. Whoever got into my office could be looking at a major jail sentence if not thousands of dollars of fines.

"I'm not sure. I hadn't even stopped to ask myself that." I scowled and noticed my headlights flip on automatically. "If this was Marjorie or one of her lackies, we're going to have words." I gripped the steering wheel more tightly and felt my shoulders tense.

"Alright, well there isn't anything we can do about it now. We're safe; we're not at home. We're out on the highway headed toward our camping weekend and we're going to have a good time." Scarlett's hand moved from my hand to my thigh and she squeezed. "And we brought our own tent…"

I sensed the hint of playfulness in her tone and let my mood lighten a bit. Maybe she wasn't so worried about this, but I knew it wasn't good news. The town had escalated from talking about us to breaking and entering. If it continued, I could see assault or theft, or worse…And now that I knew Ethan was my son, and one day I hoped Scarlett would be my wife, I had to protect them.

I had to put a stop to this. It was just impossible to fight my enemy if I couldn't see them or know who they were.

27

SCARLETT

The fire crackled. Ethan's eyes were wide as he took the roasted marshmallow from the metal tines Nick held out and pressed it between two grahams and a square of chocolate. S'mores was one of my favorite treats as a child and it warmed my heart that Ethan loved them too. He and Ryan had been full of camp songs, ghost stories, and energy all evening after we got our tents set up. With darkness falling earlier every day, we barely had any time to enjoy this first night of camping, but we were making up for it by letting the boys stay up late.

"So good," he said, grinning as he chewed. Chocolate dripped from his chin and sticky strings of marshmallow clung to his fingers and lips.

Ryan had his own s'more in hand, halfway gone. Nick had been cranking them out faster than I could produce a dozen cupcakes at the bakery, which was a sore subject. With the town gossip, business had been slower. Usually for Labor Day weekend we had dozens of orders for baked goods, especially pies and cookies for family cookouts, but this year I had a third of my normal orders. I figured when the smoke cleared and people stopped calling me a gold digger, business would return.

"Want another?" Nick asked me and he shot me a concerned expression. Ever since he was late getting to the apartment to pick me up my mood had been sour. His explanation of the office break-in only made it worse.

"No, that's okay." I stared into the fire, poking a few logs with a stick and listening to the boys chat about the best way to make a s'more.

I knew business would perk up, but without Nellie around to help me, there was no way I could manage, especially when the normal amount of orders started rolling in. It was almost a blessing that the town was turning against me, or so my logical mind tried to prove to me. My interviews weren't panning out, and if things did start getting back to normal—including large orders of my saltwater taffy at Halloween—I'd have to turn customers away. I'd be too busy.

I zoned out and thought about what I'd do if I ended up losing so much business I had to close the bakery. I had my culinary degree to fall back on, but it would mean taking a pay cut and working for someone else. The business classes I took gave me a bit of an edge and I had managerial experience, so it was likely I could land at a decent restaurant in the city, but that meant commuting and late nights. Childcare would be outrageous—which was why I opted to do my own business to begin with. It was all too much for me.

"Ms. Moore, what's a gold digger?" Ryan asked and my head snapped out of it.

I sputtered for words but Nick saved me by interjecting his soft chastisement. "Ryan, we don't really use that word, alright buddy?" Ryan, a full year younger than Ethan, but smart enough to be in the same grade, probably heard it floating around school. I was shocked, but I wasn't that surprised really.

"Well my parents said Ethan's mom was nothing but a gold digger, and they hoped I'd be a good influence." Ryan shruggedinnocently as Nick stood and started packing up the stuff for s'mores.

"You are such a good influence," I told Ryan, trying to force a smile, but tears were welling up in my eyes. It was one thing for grown adults to say harsh things, but to say them in front of their children broke my heart. I wondered how many awful things Ethan had heard at school.