LITMIR.BIZ

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      And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.

      —Ephesians 3:17–18

      To Colleen, my “third” daughter, who has a special place in my life and in my heart. Love ya!

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      Epilogue

      Letter to Reader

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      “Flowers?” Police Chief Jake Sutton spotted the enormous bouquet of roses the moment he stepped into the break room, where the officers roosted near the coffee pot before heading out on patrol every morning. “I’m touched, guys, but you shouldn’t have.”

      The three men staring morosely at the fragrant centerpiece snapped to attention at the sound of his voice.

      “We didn’t,” Phil Koenigs muttered, the droop of his narrow shoulders more pronounced than usual.

      “No offense, though, Chief,” Tony Tripenski added quickly. “We would have brought you flowers if we knew you liked them.” His eyes widened when he saw Jake’s eyebrow lift. “I mean, not that you look like the type of guy who likes flowers…”

      Phil rolled up the fingers on one hand and cuffed Tony on the shoulder. “Put the shovel away, Trip. All you’re doing is digging yourself a deeper hole.”

      Glowering, the younger officer folded his arms across his chest and slumped lower in the chair.

      Jake paused long enough to pour himself a cup of coffee before making his way to the table. Something warned him that he was going to need the extra caffeine. The last time he’d seen the men in such a dismal mood was the day he’d officially been sworn in as Mirror Lake’s new police chief.

      He flipped an empty chair away from the table and straddled it. “If one of you has a secret admirer, you’d look a little happier. That means someone must be in the doghouse with the wife.”

      “The doghouse would be easier,” Steve Patterson, one of the part-time officers, grumbled.

      “Yeah.” Trip nodded. “Much easier. I’d rather face Sherry when she’s in a mood than…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You know who.”

      No, Jake didn’t know. He hadn’t been born and raised in the area, something more than a few people had been quick to point out since his arrival.

      His gaze cut back to Phil. If he wanted a straight answer, it would most likely come from the senior officer. As second in command, Phil had been the most likely candidate to step into the shoes of the former police chief, who’d opted for an early retirement. Instead, he’d astonished everyone by turning down the position.

      Any concern that Phil’s decision would make the transfer of power a rocky one had been put to rest when Jake found out Phil was the one who’d pulled his resume from the stack of applications and given it his personal stamp of approval.

      He still wasn’t quite sure why. But he did know that if it weren’t for the dour officer’s willingness to fill him in on the local—and sometimes colorful—history of the town and the people who lived there, Jake might still be suffering from an acute case of culture shock. Within the first twenty-four hours, he’d discovered that what Mirror Lake lacked in population, it made up for in quirks.

      He had a feeling he was about to add another one to the list.

      He glanced at the officer, surprised when Phil averted his gaze. “Phil? Flowers?”

      The officer scratched at a coffee stain on the table with his thumbnail. Sighed. “They’re for Emma Barlow.”

      “Okay.” Jake drew a blank on the name. “I’ll bite. Who is Emma Barlow?”

      The three men exchanged looks but none of them seemed in a hurry to enlighten him. Jake waited, drawing on the patience that had become second nature while working as an undercover narcotics officer.

      “Brian Barlow’s widow,” Phil finally said. “Brian was a good man. A good…cop.”

      Was.

      Jake didn’t miss the significance of the word. Or the flash of grief in the older officer’s eyes. It was the first time he’d heard about the department losing an officer. Apparently that was one bit of local history Phil hadn’t been eager to share. “What happened?”

      “He was killed in the line of duty six years ago. High-speed chase.” Steve picked up the story with a sideways glance at Phil, who’d lapsed into silence again. “On the anniversary of his death, one of us takes flowers to his wife…” He caught himself. “I mean his widow.”

      “That’s thoughtful of you.” Jake wasn’t surprised. From what he’d learned about the town over the past few weeks, an annual tribute to a fallen officer was the kind of thing he’d expect from the tightly knit group of people who lived in Mirror Lake.

      No one agreed or disagreed with the statement. But if anything, they looked more miserable than they had when he’d walked in. For the first time, Jake noticed three plastic straws lined up next

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