Dawn in Eclipse Bay

VPX 5000.” Arizona’s voice had lost its usual hearty timbre. She sounded a thousand years old. “I can’t find it.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Lillian assured her. “You’ll find it when they let you go home.”
    “No.” Arizona gripped Lillian’s hand with gnarled fingers. “They said someone hit me. Probably the institute spy. I’ll bet he took my VPX 5000. Gotta get it back. Can’t risk having it fall into the wrong hands. Pictures. Of the new wing. They’ll destroy ’em.”
    Gabe went to stand at the bed. He leaned on the rails. “Tell you what, A.Z., Lillian and I will go back to your cabin and see if we can find the camera. Maybe you left it in your truck.”
    “Gotta find it.” Arizona’s eyes fluttered closed. “Can’t let the bastards get it.”

    An hour later, after a fruitless search of the interior of Arizona’s aging pickup, he closed the door on the driver’s side and pocketed the keys. He watched Lillian come down the cabin’s porch steps and start toward him.
    “Any luck?” she asked.
    “No. What about you?”
    “I went over every square inch of the porch and checked the flower beds around it. It’s gone, unfortunately. I hate to have to give her the bad news. She was so thrilled with that camera.”
    “She may be right. Whoever hit her probably stole it. Maybe he figured he could get a few bucks for it.”
    “If he’s got any sense, he won’t try to unload it anywhere near Eclipse Bay,” Lillian said. “Sean Valentine will be watching for it and so will everyone else in town.”
    “I’ll do some research online,” Gabe said. “Maybe I can find another one to replace it for her.”
    Lillian flashed him a grateful smile. “That would be wonderful.”
    He liked it when she smiled at him like that, he thought. He liked it a lot. That smile had a very motivating effect on him. He took a long, slow breath and then he took her arm.
    “It’s getting late,” he said. “Be dark soon. Let’s go back to your place and get some dinner.”

    Another squall struck just as Gabe halted the car in front of the cottage. Lillian pulled up the hood of her cloak, opened the door, leaped out and made a dash for the front porch. Gabe was right behind her. She stopped in front of the door, shook rainwater off her cloak and rummaged in her purse for her keys.
    When she got the door open, she headed straight for the mudroom, intending to hang up her cloak so that it could drip dry.
    Gabe followed, stripping off his jacket. When they reached the mudroom she did not bother to switch on the overhead light. There was enough illumination from the hall to see the row of metal clothes hooks beneath the window.
    “I don’t know about you,” she said, “but I’m starving.”
    “I’ll open the wine. You can do the salad tonight.”
    “It’s a deal.” A damp draft sent a chill through her.
    “It’s cold in here. Why don’t you start a fire before you—” She broke off abruptly.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “No wonder it’s cold in here. The back door is open. I can’t believe I forgot to lock up. But I’ve been distracted a lot lately.”
    She crossed the small space to push the door closed.
    “Wait,” Gabe said quietly, pointing to the door.
    He reached out to switch on the mudroom light and then moved past her. She watched him lean forward slightly to examine the door frame.
    “Damn.”
    “What is it?” She moved closer. “Something wrong?”
    “Yeah. Something’s wrong, all right. Looks like A.Z. wasn’t the only one who got hit by a burglar today.”
    She didn’t answer him, just stared, disbelieving, at the deep gouges in the wooden door frame and the broken lock.

    “You sure there’s nothing missing?” Sean Valentine asked for the second time.
    “No, not as far as I can tell,” Lillian said.
    Gabe leaned against the kitchen counter and watched her answer Sean’s questions. She sat hunched on the kitchen stool, knees drawn up, feet propped on the top rung.
    “I went through the whole house,” she added. “Nothing looks as if it’s been touched. Of course, we don’t keep anything really valuable here because the cottage is empty for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. Still, there’s the old television and the new answering machine. And all the stuff I brought with me from Portland. My painting supplies. Some clothes.”
    “Nothing that would bring a burglar a lot of fast cash, though.” Sean looked down at what he had written. “You know,