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shoulder. Screaming, I lurched sideways as someone jerked at it, dragging me across the lot. My heart pounded. I didn’t want to lose my camera, or more importantly, my life. Car lights turned on, highlighting the thief, wearing all black with a stocking cap tugged over their face.
“What’s going on over there?” Karen England called out.
The person inhaled a sharp breath and pulled out a knife. I dropped to my knees, trying to shove the strap off of me. The knife arced down, cutting through it. I was freed, splayed on the ground. The person ran off with my camera.
The pounding of my heart made me lightheaded. I took in calming breaths, dusting off my hands and pushing myself up from my knees.
“You okay?” Karen helped me to my feet.
“Yeah. Thanks for saving me.” I dusted myself off.
“No problem. I thought you were being assaulted.”
“I was. My camera was stolen.”
“We should tell Detective Roget what happened,” Karen said.
“I think he has enough going on.” Or rather had had enough of me. “I’ll report it when I get home. There’s nothing the police can do about it now.”
Karen linked her arm in mine. “Let’s go to my car. I’ll drive you to yours.”
“I prefer to walk.” I tried to slide my arm from hers.
Karen pressed her arm to her side so we looked like Siamese twins. “I don’t think that’s wise, considering what just happened. Whoever that was might decide you have money on you.”
She was right. I liked being independent and relying on no one, but I liked being smart—and alive—even more. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Good, because it’s also the safest place for us to talk.”
“About what?”
Karen refused to say any more until we got to her car.
The moment I buckled in, I twisted my body to face her. “Start talking.”
“You don’t know everything that’s going on.” Karen expertly pulled from the spot where she had parallel parked. I wished it was so easy for me. “And you should stop trying to dig it up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know about your visits to Upcycle and Made With Love. If you think you’re going to clear your name by tarnishing someone else’s, it won’t work. I won’t let it.”
I opened my mouth a few times, finding it hard to come up with the right words.
Karen turned onto the main road. “Where are you parked?”
“On the right side, just past the grocery store. I’m not going to let anyone railroad me into a drug charge. No matter what you threaten,” I said.
“I’m not threatening you, I’m just giving you notice.” Karen pulled over, keeping the engine running. “Stop dragging others into your mess.”
There was something going on with Karen and I wanted to know what. She wasn’t overly fond of me—or I her—but we’d never wished ill on each other. There was an intensity in Karen’s eyes and a tightness in her body that told me this was personal to her.
I rifled through my memory for a family connection between Karen and the key players. Just because Karen changed her last name from Pancake to England didn’t make all her family connections disappear. Change of name. Before she married Allan Sullivan, Felicity was a Pancake.
Great. I’d dragged Karen’s cousin into a figurative—and literal—fire. I’d just made the woman in control of dispensing the information in Eden an even bigger enemy.
“Felicity came on her own free will. If you want to help her, find out who’s selling Janie to the kids, and who gave some to Brandon.”
“I’m working on the story. So stay out of my way. If you ruin this for me, I’ll ruin you.”
SEVEN
I rummaged in my kitchen cupboards for something sweet. I’d already tried my old standby comfort food of grilled cheese, and my mind was still stuck on driving by Made With Love or playing tit-for-tat with Karen. Being threatened made me want to delve in deeper, not back off. Fortunately, there was a sliver of common sense in my head