“Hey, Sis, this latté is cold,” Jason said.

“You’re welcome.”

Charlie Critch gave her a shy smile and toasted her with his latté. “Thanks for the coffee and cookies, Ms. Greyson.”

“Call me Livie.” Olivia tried to envision Charlie as an enraged store invader, but his quiet, respectful voice made it tough. At twenty, he still had the gangly look of a teenager who has just reached his full height, which Olivia estimated to be about six-foot-two. At six-foot-one, her brother was a shade shorter. Both young men had neatly trimmed brown hair and slender builds. In fact, now that she saw the two together, both of them looked similar to the man she’d seen running away from Charlene’s store.

Jason snatched the last cookie on the plate, a burnt-orange airplane with cinnamon candies for windows. As it flew toward his mouth, he glanced at Charlie’s thin face and hesitated. Without comment, Jason cracked the plane in half and handed a piece to the younger and clearly ravenous man.

“You’re Charlene’s brother, aren’t you?” Olivia asked Charlie. “How have you been settling in here in Chatterley Heights?”

“Great.” Charlie smiled, revealing a mouthful of well-tended, perfectly straight teeth with a clump of orange icing stuck between the front incisors. “I love working on cars,” he added, with a sideways glance at Struts.

“It’s too bad about Charlene’s store,” Olivia said.

Charlie’s boyish face tightened, but he didn’t comment.

“Any idea who might have done such a thing to your sister? I mean, you’ve both lived here only a short time, so it’s hard to believe anyone in Chatterley Heights would have developed a grudge against her.” Olivia held her breath, hoping she hadn’t overdone it.

To her surprise, it wasn’t Charlie who reacted. Her brother, who had been slouching on the corner of Struts’s desk, straightened and slid to his feet. He thrust out his chin in what Olivia called his bulldog look. “Grudge? Who said anything about a grudge? Charlene’s a sweet kid. No reason anyone would want to hurt her.” Jason slipped his hands in his pockets and retreated to the windowsill.