Page 19 of By the Book

Taking a seat on the couch beside her, I explain. “I found them when I was walking out of my office. Before Tripp or Millie went in there. And they aren’t mine. That means whoever broke into my shop dropped these yesterday.”

I lay them on the coffee table and all four of us gather around the item in question. Wren catches on first, her eyes widening. “The keychain.”

“Exactly! It’s clear that we know who this is.”

“Not clear to me,” Poppy grunts.

“The keychain is the party favor from the Taylor’s pig roast last weekend,” Wren explains.

The room goes quiet as the realization settles over us. Not only do we know this person, we trust them. My heart aches for my family, thinking someone they would welcome into their home could be hurting our community.

“Does Tripp know about this?” Wren asks.

“Not yet. I put them in my pocket and forgot about them, until the middle of the night.”

“You should give them to him. They’re evidence.”

“I can do something about this! I can do something about the fact that someone attacked my shop,” I reply, hearing my own defensiveness.

Stevie sets her hand on mine supportively. “Itwouldbe doing something, giving them to Tripp and telling him what you know. You could even get the guest list from your mom for him,so it doesn’t raise any red flags about him looking into their friends.”

I think about how hard Tripp was on himself last night. I would never keep this tip from him. But maybe I can help him, at least.

“Of course, I’ll tell him. But I’m not going to just cut and run… again.”

“Ivy,” Wren murmurs, setting her coffee mug down and coming to put her arm around me. “What do you meanagain?”

“New York.”

“You didn’t cut and run then,” Poppy offers. “And this isnothinglike New York.”

“Even still, I’m working on this.”

“Then just be safe, stay close to Tripp,” Stevie offers.

“Now that’s some fun advice,” Poppy agrees. Bringing my coffee mug to my lips, I hide a smile behind it. More time with Tripp, that certainly does sound like some fun advice.

Chapter 9

Tripp

“Idon’t envy you, son,” Fitzy tells me as we step into his office. I take a seat in the mahogany paneled room, crossing my ankle over my knee in the wood framed armchair before his desk.

A sardonic chuckle escapes me. That’s how out of hand this has gotten. The mayor of passionate, small-town civilians thinks I’m in a worse situation. And based on the town hall meetings I’ve attended—I think I’m being mild describing them as passionate.

“Give it to me straight. Should people be worried that this is escalating?”

A knot forms in my gut as I realize I’ll have to lie to him. But the plan was that no one learned about the new developments. “It’s still contained to property damage. No one has been harmed. I’ve increased patrol, though.”

It’s true, technically. Something awful could have happened to Ivy last night, but it didn’t. Bile rises in me at the thought. I don’t even know what I would have done if she’d been hurt. Noticing the way my fists clench, I remind myself that she wasn’t harmed. Ivy is okay. I loosen my hands and breathe.

It had been hell dragging myself away from her last night. But what reason did I have to be there more than her closest friends? Any explanation would have told her too much about how I was feeling.

“What about Fall Fest? Do we cancel it?” Fitzy pulls at his white mustache in thought.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s always highly populated, not at all what they’ve been going for.”

“We get our last big wave of tourists in for the festival though. What if it’s happening around town while they’re all here?”

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