Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
The brass bell jingled as I stepped out into the late afternoon sun and locked up Cobblers’ Corner for my belated lunch break. My head still spun from yesterday’s confrontation at HDC… and at my shop.
My footsteps echoed off the cobblestones as I headed toward Minnie’s Bakery. The late autumn breeze ruffled my hair and nipped at my bare arms.
The cheerful jingle of Minnie’s door sounded at the same moment that the intoxicating aroma of butter, sugar, and freshly baked bread enveloped me.
The afternoon lull left the bakery empty except for Minnie herself, her tall frame bent over the display case as she arranged a tray of glazed pastries.
Her severe bun of graying red hair bobbed as she looked up, the overhead lights catching the silver strands woven through the red.
“Leo!” Her smile didn’t quite reach her sharp green eyes. A smudge of flour dusted her crisp black apron. “What brings you by? Your usual apple turnover?”
“Yes, please.” The metal tongs in her hand clinked against the glass shelf as she slid the treat into a crisp paper sleeve.
“Actually, I wanted to ask about the vandalized campaign posters.” I approached the counter, noting how her fingers tightened on the tongs she held.
Her shoulders stiffened. The scent of alpha anxiety seeped into the sweet-scented air.
“Oh, that awful business.” She turned away, busying herself with putting away the tongs and taping the paper sleeve shut.
The crystal-clear glass reflected her pinched expression.
She let out a weary exhale. “First Rosie’s, then your shop, and now this.
The insurance premiums are already killing us all. ”
“Have you noticed anything suspicious? Anyone hanging around who shouldn’t be?”
“No, nothing like that.” She placed the paper bag on the counter and then rearranged a row of lemon tarts with mechanical precision. “Everything’s fine here. Just fine.”
The door chimed again. A courier strode in, his tablet glowing in the warm bakery light. “Delivery for Minnie Goldstein?”
Color drained from Minnie’s face, her usual confidence crumbling. She snatched the envelope, manicured nails crumpling the paper as she shoved it under the counter. Not fast enough—I caught the distinctive HDC letterhead with its sleek corporate logo.
I watched Minnie scrawl her signature across the courier’s screen, her manicured nails clicking against the glass. Her hand shook, smearing the digital line.
“Hope you both enjoy the rest of your day.” The courier disappeared through the bakery door.
“Minnie...” I kept my voice gentle as I pulled my wallet from my pocket. “Did you receive an offer from Harrington Development Corporation?”
She deflated, sinking onto a nearby stool. The wood creaked under her weight as the fight seemed to leave her body. “I... might be considering one.”
“Considering?”
A timer dinged from the kitchen. Minnie ignored it, her usual punctuality forgotten as she pulled out the envelope. The paper trembled in her hands.
“They sent over preliminary paperwork. The offer’s generous, Leo. More than generous.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “After the vandalism started, my insurance doubled. Then the ‘accidents’ began—broken planters, vandalized outdoor seating. Each time, HDC increased their offer.”
“When did this start?” I asked. “Did you notify the police?”
“About six week’s ago… I reported it to the Sheriff, but kept the news quiet to avoid drawing attention.” She wrung her hands—a nervous habit I’d never seen from her before. “Wait here.”
She disappeared into the back, returning with a worn leather portfolio. “My mother kept everything about Millcrest. Maps, newspaper clippings, property records. She loved this town, talked about it constantly. It’s why I chose to open my bakery here.”
Minnie spread the yellowed documents across the counter. “Look at this—a survey map from before the Depression. This whole block belonged to the Harringtons—until the market crashed and they lost everything.”
I traced my finger along the faded property lines.
The Harrington empire had stretched far beyond what I’d imagined—block after block of prime real estate, from the riverfront clear up to the town square.
I’d known Blake’s ancestors held land in town before the 1929 crash, but the scale of their holdings left me stunned.
My heart pounded. “Other shop owners received offers too?”
Minnie nodded, her bun coming loose, wisps of red-gray hair framing her face. “Wilson’s, of course... Maude’s... probably others. Blake Harrington gave us all the same deadline—sign by the end of the month or the offer expires.”
“The end of the month? That’s right after the election.” The pieces started falling into place, forming a picture I didn’t want to see.
“I know.” She met my eyes, her own swimming with unshed tears.
“I moved here because my mother always said Millcrest had heart. Real community. But these old buildings... the repairs, the insurance... it gets harder every year. And now with all this vandalism and the pressure to sell...” She traced a finger over one of her mother’s maps.
“Maybe Adelaide’s fundraising auction will help, but—“
“Wait.” I leaned forward. “What about Vertex? Have they made any offers?”
“Oh... it almost slipped my mind, but I heard that Vertex group gave an offer to the antique store.” Minnie shuffled through her mother’s papers. “And the pharmacy too. Poor Paula—she’s been there thirty years. They offered her twice what the place is worth.”
My stomach dropped. Both those shops flanked Vintage Vogue. And Winslow’s drugstore sat right beside Cobblers’ Corner…
“They were very polite about it, according to Paula.” Minnie continued, straightening the display case of pastries with trembling hands. “All smiles and promises about ‘preserving the district’s character.’ But we both know what that means.”
“Did they mention anything about other properties?” The question caught in my throat. After seeing Dominic at HDC, his connection to Blake Harrington...
“Just that they were ‘exploring opportunities in the area.’” Minnie pulled out another map, this one marked with her mother’s neat handwriting.
“But look at this pattern—every shop that’s received an offer sits along this path through the district’s heart.
These same properties flank those that the Harringtons owned before the crash.
” She lowered her voice. “Caroline at the post office said they’ve got their eye on the whole block. Your grandfather’s old place included.”
Both HDC and Vertex circled the Historical District like vultures, each claiming to be in competition, but their synchronized movements told a different story.
They moved too perfectly in tandem, like dancers in a well-rehearsed ballet.
The sour taste in my mouth spread—Dominic at HDC, Blake’s sudden interest in local politics, the coordinated property offers.
A predator didn’t share its prey unless it had something bigger to gain.
“Thank you for telling me this, Minnie.” I touched one of her mother’s carefully preserved documents. “Would you mind if I borrowed these? Just overnight?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Mother would have wanted them used to protect the district. But Leo?” Her sharp green eyes fixed on mine, a flash of the fierce competitor I knew returning to her eyes.
“Be careful. These corporate types—they’ll promise the moon and leave you with dust. Just look what happened with Holloway. ”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I swiped my debit card through the card reader, which beeped in protest before finally accepting the payment.
The burned smell of forgotten pastries wafted from the kitchen. Minnie jumped up, her professional mask sliding back into place. “Oh! My croissants!”
I gathered the maps with gentle precision, taking extra care not to damage the fragile, discolored paper. The cheerful door chime felt discordant as I left, my mind racing with connections.
Blake with his family grudge. The smooth guarantees from Vertex…
Dominic’s face flashed in my mind, his steel-gray eyes intense as he’d warned me about danger.
The figure in the raincoat.
My lips curved into a frown. I needed to talk to Penny.
The sharp scent of marker ink mixed with the musty perfume of old fabric as I spread one of Minnie’s maps across Penny’s work table in the back room of Vintage Vogue. A pair of mannequins in half-finished evening gowns stood sentinel in the corner, their empty forms casting long shadows.
“So let me get this straight.” Penny perched on his desk, his lucky penny swinging as he leaned forward. “Both HDC and Vertex are targeting the same properties? Properties that just happen to form a strategic path through the district?”
“Properties the Harringtons owned before the Depression.” I tapped the yellowed map. “Look at this pattern.”
Penny hopped down, pink hair catching the light as he moved to examine the map. “The timing’s too perfect to be coincidence.”
He moved restlessly, rapping his knuckles against the tabletop.
“Speaking of timing...” Penny pulled out a stack of blueprints from beneath his workbench, the papers rustling as he smoothed their curled edges.
“I’ve been doing some digging of my own.
These are copies from Town Hall’s public records. ”
“What am I looking at?” I leaned closer, studying the crisp blue lines.
“See these notations?” His finger traced a pattern across the schematics.
“Every building marked with a red X has had some kind of ‘accident’ in the past couple of months—burst pipes, electrical issues, structural problems. Might be significant, might just be old buildings behaving as expected… but all conveniently timed right before they received buyout offers.”
My stomach clenched as I recognized the addresses. “Most are same properties HDC and Vertex are targeting.”