Chapter Thirteen An Old Frenemy
Lydia
The clerk at Town Hall stamped my paperwork with a satisfying thump and slid it back across the counter.
“All set,” she said. “You’re officially in the parade.”
I smiled with warmth, happy that I had successfully completed everything and the only thing left was the parade itself. “Thank you.”
She glanced down at the forms again, then back up at me. “You would be surprised how many people forget this part.”
“I believe it,” I said, remembering how they had sort of snuck in the question in small print. Only with Meri’s help had I noticed it.
She laughed softly. “You’re organized. It shows.”
I took the papers and tucked them carefully into my folder, feeling a small, steady pride settle in. Not the breathless kind from something magically coming together but the quiet kind that didn’t need anyone else to notice even though I had been steady and worked hard.
Outside, the cold felt sharper than it had earlier, the kind that woke a person up when they stepped out into it. I pulled my coat tighter and started down the sidewalk, mentally checking off the list I’d been carrying around in my head for days.
Float approved. Truck secured. Decorating finished. All I had to do was convince my parents to bundle up and sit on the bench as I drove in the parade.
For once, the list felt manageable.
I walked to the coffee shop on instinct before I even realized where I was headed, the familiar sign swinging gently above the door, Lattes & Laughter . Charlotte had renamed it, saying if she was going to risk everything on a café, it was at least going to sound welcoming.
The bell chimed as I stepped inside, warmth and the smell of espresso wrapping around me like a reward.
“Lydia,” Charlotte said from behind the counter, her face lighting up. “I was just thinking about you.”
“That feels ominous,” I said, shrugging off my coat.
She laughed. “Only in the sense that I was wondering if you had survived finding a vehicle for the parade.”
“Barely,” I said. “But I have everything under control now with the help of family and friends.”
She handed me a mug without asking. “I’m glad to hear it. Here, try my new creation and tell me if it’s any good.”
I took a sip and leaned against the counter, watching her move through the space like it had always belonged to her. It still impressed me. How she had taken a risk and made it real. “This is delicious.”
“It’s the hazelnut. Makes it taste all warm and cozy,” Charlotte told me.
“This place looks great,” I said, looking at all the changes she had implemented in such a short time.
She smiled, proud but not overly so. “It’s loud, it’s imperfect, and more importantly it’s mine.”
I was about to respond when I heard my name.
“Lydia?”
The voice hit me like a blow to the chest. My body reacted instantly, shoulders tightening, breath catching, like my nervous system had recognized the threat before my brain could catch up.
I turned slowly.
Gavin Wickham stood near the entryway, expression warm and mildly surprised, as if we had run into each other at the grocery store instead of in the middle of a chapter I thought I had already closed. He looked great, tall and handsome, perfectly dressed with a collared shirt and overcoat.
“Hi,” he said, approaching the counter. “Wow. It’s been a while.”
The café felt smaller suddenly. Like all the sound had pulled back to make room for this moment.
“Gavin,” I said, and hated that my voice still knew his name.
Charlotte glanced between us, confusion flickering across her face.
“I didn’t know you were back in town,” I managed.
He smiled, easy and unbothered. “I’m around. I saw the cafe had changed hands and thought I would grab a coffee.”
Of course he had.
“You look good,” he added, as if that was something he had the right to say.
“Thank you,” I replied automatically, then winced internally. Old habits died hard.
Charlotte cleared her throat.
“Could I get a double expresso?” Gavin asked, tossing some cash on the countertop.
“Of course. I’ll be… over there,” Charlotte said, retreating with clear reluctance.
Wickham stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough to feel intimate. “I heard you have been busy. Someone said you were entering the local parade.”
“Yes,” I said. “With my family.”
“Impressive,” he said, nodding like he had expected nothing less. “I always knew you would land on your feet.”
The words slid under my skin, familiar and dangerous.
“I didn’t land,” I said. “I worked hard to gain back the trust that I lost.”
He laughed lightly. “Of course you did. You always were… earnest.”
There it was. The gentle diminishment wrapped in praise.
I crossed my arms, grounding myself. “Why are you here?”
His brows knit together, puzzled. “Here? In the café? I’m getting a double expresso.”
“You know what I mean,” I told him.
He sighed, a performance of confusion. “Lydia, I really don’t understand why you’re upset.”
I felt heat rise in my cheeks. “You left. With our money.”
His eyes widened slightly, the picture of surprise. “I only took what I was due to be paid.”
“You took a lot more than—”
“Did I?” he interrupted gently. “Because from where I was standing, you hired me. You approved the numbers. I assumed everything was handled.”
“That’s not—”
“Do you have a contract?” he asked softly.
The question landed like a slap.
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
He smiled, almost apologetic. “I think you might be remembering things differently.”
The café noise crept back in around us. Cups were clinking. Someone was laughing at a nearby table. Life continued even while I was confronting my worst enemy.
“I can’t believe you just said that. I can’t believe this is happening,” I said through clenched teeth. “The worst part is I let you into our home, let you meet my family. I trusted you Gavin.”
Gavin watched me, his smile softening. “It was a delight to meet them. I especially liked your mother. She is such a lovely woman.”
“I can’t believe you,” I muttered.
His expression flickered. Just for a second.
And that was when the bell over the door chimed again.
“Hey, Charlotte,” a familiar voice said. “Do you have anything with chocolate and zero calories?”
Ephram.
He stepped inside, uniform visible, presence grounding. His gaze moved from Charlotte to me to Wickham who didn’t bother to look back at him, and something sharpened instantly. “What’s going on here?”
Charlotte slid the double espresso across the counter. “I think this man cheated Lydia out of money.”
“Seargeant North, this is Gavin Wickham,” I introduced them, folding my arms across my chest. “Gavin, maybe you should talk to the nice police officer.”
“Sergeant North,” Gavin said smoothly, turning to face Ephram and holding out a hand. “How very nice to meet you.”
Ephram’s eyes never left him. “I have heard a lot about you.”
“Is that so?” Gavin asked mildly, like he had no concern in the world. “All good things, I hope.”
“Not particularly. I would like you to come with me to the station. I have some questions about some missing money that you may be able to clear up,” Ephram stated.
It wasn’t a request.
Gavin’s smile faltered just slightly, the charm recalibrating as if he were adjusting to a new audience.
“Is this really necessary?” Gavin asked mildly.
“Yes,” Ephram said.
I stood there, my heart hammering, watching the exchange like it was happening through glass.
Gavin glanced at me once, his expression unreadable, then he straightened, shifting from casual acquaintance to cooperative citizen in the space of a breath.
“Of course. I’m happy to clear up any confusion Lydia might have caused. ”
“I caused ? Excuse me?” I asked in disbelief.
Gavin gave me a pitying look. “I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding.”
“Let's go to the station,” Ephram suggested, waiting for Gavin to precede him out the door.
“Keep the tip,” Gavin told Charlotte, leaving the espresso behind.
Ephram paused just long enough to look at me before following Gavin out the door.
The bell chimed as they left, the sound too cheerful for what it marked.
Charlotte appeared at my side, concern written all over her face. “Are you okay?”
I nodded automatically. “Yes.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“I can close early,” she offered. “Or I can sit with you. Or I can pretend nothing happened and aggressively clean the espresso machine.”
I almost laughed.
“Thank you,” I said. “But I think I should go. I want to find out what happens when Gavin ‘explains’ everything.”
She squeezed my arm before I left. “Good luck.”
The walk to the station felt longer than necessary. Every step echoed with Gavin’s voice, his smug gaslighting replaying in my head no matter how firmly I tried to push his voice away.
Do you have a contract?
I had trusted him. Trusted the way he spoke, the way he made everything feel simple and manageable. Trusted that enthusiasm and intention were enough.
I had believed that he liked me, that he was my boyfriend and that we were dating. He had brought me out to dinner, we went dancing together, he even gave me flowers.
I introduced him as my boyfriend to my family, letting him in the door and naturally had wanted to help his business while helping our family business, like the incredibly naive girl that I was. I thought everything would work out.
I had been horribly wrong, knocking down my own confidence, and the trust my family had in me.
The situation made me feel just awful.
The station doors opened with a familiar hiss of automatic doors, the smell of coffee and disinfectant grounding me in a way the café hadn’t.
I was here for a reason. I was here to find out just exactly what Gavin said and if the police would charge him for theft.
I approached the desk, finding a middle aged police officer with the name tag Gail sipping coffee.
“Hi. My name is Lydia Bennet. Officer North just brought in a man who stole money from my family. I’m hoping I can get an update on what’s happening,” I quietly explained why I was there.
“I can’t comment on that, but I will let Officer North know that you came if you give me your details,” she offered.
“Could I sit in the lobby instead? I don’t mind waiting,” I asked hopefully.
“You can sit in the lobby and when Officer North is available, I will let him know you are here. If you want to leave at any time, just give me your phone number and I can have him call you,” Gail stated, sympathetic but firm.
“Thank you,” I told her.
The lobby was a cheerless area, with plastic and metal chairs bolted to the floor. There weren’t any magazines, nor a television to keep my mind occupied. I sat down and folded my hands together to keep them from shaking.
Time stretched.
Occasionally a person would pass by or an officer would come to chat to Gail at the desk. Someone came into the station to drop off a delivery then left again. Every time a door opened, my chest tightened with hope that it would be Ephram.
It wasn’t.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out without thinking, my fingers moving on instinct. It was Jane, asking if I was still in town. She wondered if I could pick up some cans of cherry pie filling.
Jane, I just ran into—
I stared at the screen then deleted the text.
TMy fingers typed again. Kitty, I need—
Deleted.
I’m at the police station.
I stared at the words before I deleted them.
The habit was so familiar it scared me. The reflex to handle it myself. To not make it anyone else’s problem. To doubt my own instincts before trusting someone else with them.
I didn’t know why I was still doing this. I knew better now. I knew I wasn’t alone, that I should tell my sisters, and yet the instinct to carry it myself ran deep, etched in from years of being the one who tried to handle everything on her own even when it was too much.
How could I tell them that the man who robbed us, that I let into our lives, was back in town?
I locked my phone and slipped it back into my pocket.
The cold cut through me, and I hugged my arms tighter around myself, willing the shaking to stop.