Her father hadn’t been too happy with her either. Genevieve still being a minor meant he’d had to pick her up and accompany her to the police station in Mountain Ridge, where she made her official statement, and then again to the Pinewood Police Department. They hadn’t gotten out until nearly midnight. Genevieve had been too tired to explain everything to Brandon; instead, she’d texted him to find his own ride to school in the morning and said she’d meet him at Hidden Treasures afterward.

“I’m still missing something,” said Brandon thoughtfully. “The whole thing with Tyler, what was that about, I wonder?”

Genevieve looked at him blankly.

“You know,” he prodded. “All the mystery phone calls, and that text...”

“Oh. That.” Genevieve actually blushed. “I feel kind of bad about that, to be honest.”

Brandon raised an eyebrow. “You? Feel bad about Tyler Caivano?”

“I mean,” she blundered, “he did act awfully suspicious. And irresponsible!” she added quickly. “But it turns out he does have a really good reason to be on edge.” She gestured for Brandon to move closer and then lowered her voice. “The reason Mr. Garcia lost his temper over the summer is because he’s suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s.”

“Ohhhh.” Brandon leaned back, his eyes lit with instant understanding. “That actually makes so much sense. Remember last year how he kept mixing me up with Jack Steinberg after we switched seats?”

Genevieve nodded. “And we made jokes about dementia,” she said regretfully.

“Well, how were we to know?” Brandon tapped a jar of cinnamon over his coffee and shrugged.

“At that point, nobody knew, apparently,” Genevieve said, reaching for another muffin. “He got the diagnosis after he was let go; Tyler had a hand in that. He left his own job and apartment in Mountain Ridge to care for his father and fight for his rights to his pension.

“Since Mr. Garcia hasn’t been working, his confusion’s been getting rapidly worse. Tyler was trying to balance all that—the new job at Sweet Dreams, his dad’s condition⁠—”

“Having to wear a pink hat,” Brandon joked.

Genevieve shot him a look. “Mr. Garcia is confused and lonely. He’s the one who kept calling Tyler at work. I don’t blame Tyler for being frustrated. He and his dad never got along well, and here he is, giving up everything to try and care for him.”

Brandon sipped his coffee and eyed her thoughtfully. “How do you know all this?”

Genevieve winced. “My dad told me last night. He’s known all along—that’s why he gave Tyler so much leeway being late all the time.”

Brandon burst into laughter. “Here we are, suspecting Tyler Caivano of actual murder, and your dad had all the answers the whole time.”

“Yeah.” Genevieve rolled her eyes. “Funny.”

“So you confessed your prior suspicions to him last night?”

“No!” Genevieve set down her teacup and looked at him in horror.

Brandon frowned. “Then how’d you guys get on the subject of Tyler?”

“Because he quit.”

“What?”

“Yep. I guess he accepted the fact that his dad obviously needs more help than he can give, so he’s found a home for him. And he’s going back to school.”

“Wow.” They were quiet for a minute, then Brandon looked at Genevieve mischievously. “So who’s going to protect poor wee Genevieve from the dangerous streets of downtown Pinewood when she has to close shop?”

Genevieve drained her teacup and looked at her watch. “I’m glad you asked,” she said sweetly. Then she said, “Come on, girl,” and Butterscotch leaped to her feet and woofed. Brandon looked at them, perplexed. “My dad cleared it with your dad this morning,” Genevieve said, clasping her hands and beaming. “Butterscotch is officially adopted.”

Brandon’s jaw dropped and Genevieve laughed. “Well, after all, she did save my life. Who better to protect my father’s investments than this girl?” She ruffled Butterscotch’s fur and then punched Brandon lightly on the shoulder. “I’ll text you later.”

She crossed the street, pausing to twist her long hair into a bun. Butterscotch trotted happily beside her, and together they walked into the cool, bright lights of Sweet Dreams Ice Cream Parlour.

“Ooh, Mommy! Look at the pretty dog!” a little girl exclaimed from a booth, and Butterscotch barked in reply and wagged her tail. Aunt Mellie came from around the corner and enveloped her niece in a hug, wiping at her eyes, before kneeling and embracing Butterscotch tightly.

“What a brave girl, yes you are!” she exclaimed, while the dog wiggled her rear end excitedly. “Welcome to the family. Butterscotch, isn’t it?” Butterscotch barked agreeably, and Aunt Mellie looked up at Genevieve. “Your father was here earlier.” She indicated the dog dish and water bowl in the corner. Her father had labeled them in Sharpie: Forever Butterscotch.

Genevieve smiled and punched in. “I’m not sure how much she’ll get to use those,” she said. “Health code violations and all that. It’s only a matter of time before someone complains about a big hairy dog in the ice cream shop.”

“We’ll think of something.”

Genevieve tied her apron on and looked up to find Mellie staring at her. There was a twinkle in her aunt’s eye.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Like what?” Mellie rearranged her expression into one of feigned innocence.

“Like you just polished off a double scoop of Chocolate Cherry Crush on the sly.”

Mellie laughed. “I didn’t, but that actually sounds like a great idea. Why don’t you dish up two of those and we’ll talk.”

They took their ice cream to the back and sat at the stainless-steel work table, leaving Butterscotch in the corner with her snout still firmly planted in the doggie dish.

“So, what gives?” Genevieve asked between spoonfuls of ice cream.

Mellie gave her a little smile. “I was just thinking about something your dad said this morning. About Tyler no longer working here.”

Genevieve raised her eyebrows. “And why would that make you smile?” she teased. “You love Tyler, practically made up all his excuses for him about why he could never be to work on time or bother showing up at all.”

“Oh, you.” Mellie laughed. “You know I’m a big old softie, and anyway, I had an idea what was happening with Tyler and his father. Anyway, I asked your dad if he had someone in mind to replace our surly but dearly departed coworker, and he said there would be no replacement. Not now, and not a year from now. Does that mean what I think it means?”

Genevieve leaned forward and beamed at her aunt. “You were right about everything, Mellie. I just needed to sit down with him and talk, really talk, about my feelings and plans for the future. Last night, when we were waiting at the station, it was the perfect time and place. He couldn’t shut me out and walk away. He couldn’t talk over me.” Genevieve sighed. “And I couldn’t get upset and walk away either. Maybe I took advantage just a little bit of the fact that I could have been murdered, you know, but it all turned out okay. I’ll take distance courses at Mountain Ridge. I’m staying in Pinewood.”

Mellie set her spoon down, looking thoroughly satisfied. She reached across the table for Genevieve’s hand. “I am so happy to hear that,” she said warmly.

Genevieve squeezed her aunt’s hand. What she hadn’t told Mellie was how her dad’s voice had sounded like gravel when she made him look her right in the eyes and promise to believe her when she told him that she knew what she wanted.

“I’m not Mom,” she had said. “I’m not doing this for you. Now promise you believe me.”

He had promised her, and then he had looked away and dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve. That was something Genevieve didn’t need to tell anyone, ever. That was something between her and her dad.

The bells chimed and Genevieve and Mellie both rose.

“Hey, does anyone even work in this place?” a voice bellowed. Butterscotch began to bark and the voice said, “Besides you.”

“It’s Tyler,” Genevieve said.