LITMIR.BIZ

      Carrying a canvas tote filled with fresh produce, Kat walked through the electronic doors of Dalton Foods on the corner of Main and Shore Road. A block up the street, in the library lot, she’d parked her car under the leafless elms. She would make a quick stop, pick up the book Ms. Brookley had called about this morning, then head home to prepare for tonight.

      A smile flickered on her lips. She hoped Dane liked baked red potatoes, seasoned with basil and oregano, and shallots and mushrooms in cream sauce. She hoped he liked upside-down pineapple cake. Tonight’s dinner would be beyond special, she rationalized, if for no other reason than to create other memories for him, to take away that emptiness she saw so often in his eyes.

      “A child died on my watch.”

      Had the child died on the operating table? Had Dane—

      “Kat,” a male voice called as she reached the crosswalk to the Burnt Bend Library. “Got a minute?”

      She turned to see a stocky man, face shielded by a worn ballcap and a foam cup of coffee in one hand, jog across the street that ran behind the shops edging the boardwalk of the village’s tiny cove. Kat recognized him immediately. Colin Dirks, Shaun’s cousin, from Bainbridge Island. They hadn’t seen each other since Colin’s fishing trawler capsized during a sudden squall. Since Shaun drowned in that squall and Colin lived. Kat couldn’t help the spurt of anger. He’d been the one to coax Shaun away that weekend.

      Oh, initially Colin had offered condolences, but then things changed. His calls and e-mails took another slant. Rather than asking about her and Blake, or talking about the man Colin claimed had been like a brother, he wanted to know when was she going to sell him the Kat Lady?

      Never, she thought for the hundredth time as she observed him approach with his feigned concern.

      “Here with your family, Colin?” she asked, certain he’d come alone to Firewood Island; certain, too, of the reason.

      “Nope. They’re home. I was just—” he glanced over his shoulder “—getting a mocha at Coffee Sense before I came to see you. But this is even better. Can I buy you a coffee?”

      A snarky retort on her lips, she turned. But then she remembered that this man had been Shaun’s childhood best friend. It wasn’t as if Colin had planned the squall, or the capsizing of his trawler. And Shaun had gone on his own volition that weekend to pitch in when one of Colin’s helpers had come down with the flu.