Pike narrowed his eyes.
"Did you see what's in the bag?"
The owner hesitated.
"No, but—"
"Then you don't know."
The younger officer stepped closer.
"Sergeant, the suspect description doesn't match her."
Pike ignored him.
He pushed through the door.
And stepped directly into the widow's path.
The widow had been thinking about the heritage center when the sergeant approached.
She held the paper bag close to her chest.
Inside was the velvet case, wrapped in a soft cloth, along with the picture hook and its receipt.
She'd been careful.
Before leaving home, she checked the case twice.
At the store, she made certain the receipt was placed inside the bag.
Now she was trying to remember whether the museum coordinator asked her to arrive at one-thirty or two.
She didn't see the sergeant until he spoke.
"Hold up."
She looked up.
"Excuse me?"
He stepped closer.
"What's in the bag?"
She smiled politely.
"Just a picture hook and something for the veterans' display."
Pike held out his hand.
"Let me see."
She hesitated.
"Did I do something wrong?"
The sergeant's expression hardened.
"Did I ask you that?"
The widow looked confused.
"No, sir."
"Then give me the bag."
She tightened her grip.
For a moment, she thought he might be asking to check the store purchase.
She had no objection to showing the receipt.
But the velvet case contained her husband's badge, and she didn't want a stranger handling it carelessly.
So she reached inside.
"I can show you what I bought."
Pike stepped forward.
"Don't start reaching around."
She froze.
Her hand stopped.
The young officer approached from behind.
"Sergeant, she says she has a receipt."
Pike turned sharply.
"I heard her."
Then he looked back toward the widow.
"Put the bag on the ground."
She stared.
"On the ground?"
"Yes."
Her eyes moved toward the clean sidewalk.
For a moment, she seemed reluctant.
Then she said gently, "There's something fragile inside."
Pike laughed.
"Lady, I'm not asking for your opinion."
The young officer looked toward the store owner standing in the doorway.
The man appeared uncomfortable.
He raised one hand.
"Sergeant, she paid for the hook. I remember the sale."
Pike pointed toward him.
"Go back inside."
The owner hesitated.
"Sir, I don't think—"
"Inside!"
The man's face changed.
For a moment, he looked frightened.
Then he stepped back.
The widow watched.
She couldn't understand why an ordinary shopping trip was becoming a confrontation.