His wild eyes reminded her of a caged lion. “I will find whoever threatened you. They won’t get away with this.”
She wanted to believe him, but she also needed a plan B in place before she left. She needed to know he was in this with her, so she’d feel less alone after she left. “What if they do get away with it? What if I have to go into the witness protection program? Will you go with me?”
He stilled.
She curled her toes.
This was a big ask. He’d be giving up everything for her. If he wouldn’t go, she’d stay. She’d risk her life for him.
“Yes,” he said.
Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, his mouth found hers and kissed away her fears.
Chapter Eleven
Tandy would be surprised if she made it home before midnight. She usually cleaned up the shop while Marissa baked, but now she had to do both. Not to mention the special pastries Marissa had planned for the festivities. The rice crispy treats dipped halfway in white chocolate then sprinkled with blue and white edible glitter were easy, compared to the blueberry tartlets with the star cutouts in the pastry and the red, white, and blue macaroons.
Who was Tandy kidding? She’d be there all night. Greg would have joined her if he wasn’t at his office designing coffee coupons, printing tea house flyers, and running background checks on both Moria Evans and Adrian Romero.
She brushed flour off her hands. “Might as well make another espresso, huh, Cocoa?”
Cocoa yipped, which was his normal response, but then he jumped up and ran circles around his gated corner.
“Potty break?” she asked him.
He yipped again.
Poor guy. She hadn’t been able to take him on a walk since the parade. Maybe she shouldn’t with a possible killer on the loose.
She grabbed his leash and looked through the windows at the dimming light with apprehension. Movement caught her eye, and she tensed, ready to grab a rolling pin to use as a weapon.
Zam strolled down the street with Sheila, completely unaware Tandy was ready to bash his skull in. Maybe he should be careful too. With his hearing loss, he wouldn’t be able to hear a killer sneaking up on him.
Tandy scanned the area to make sure both he and she were safe before stooping to hook Cocoa’s collar with the leash and lead him outside. He caught her eye through the glass door and gave her a nod as she pushed it open. Perfect timing, though with the way Cocoa charged toward Sheila, this had been her pup’s plan all along.
Zam slowed. “You have flour on your face.” He brushed his own cheek to demonstrate.
“Oops. Thanks.” She lifted an elbow to wipe it off with her shoulder sleeve. If she didn’t get it all, oh well. She still had a long way to go.
Zam pointed to the shop. “You working late to practice the napkin trick I taught you?”
She wished. Might as well tell him what was really going on. If he didn’t hear it from her, he’d be sure to learn it from the town gossips within the next twenty-four hours. “Marissa had to leave for a safehouse because someone doesn’t want her to testify against Cash.”
Zam’s mouth opened the same way it had when he’d spelled out WOW with his hands. Only this time he had no words.
She looked down at Cocoa who danced around like he needed a jog to get all his energy out. How was she going to do everything she had to do over the next month or two?
She looked back up so Zam could read her lips. “I’m trying to get all her baking done and thinking I might have to start selling Costco muffins until she returns. People like Costco muffins, right?”
“No,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re a lot of help.”
He reached for Cocoa’s leash. “I can be.”
Oh no. She hadn’t meant to be rude or to even ask for assistance. Maybe she should call it a day and get some sleep. She pulled the leash her way. “I didn’t mean…”
Zam didn’t let go. “Tandy, let me help. I’m walking my dog anyway. And since I sold my bar, I don’t have anything else to do at night.”
His wide eyes spoke of sincerity. And Cocoa would appreciate it.
“Only if you’re sure.” She didn’t like needing help from anyone.
“I’m sure.” He took the leash. “But if there are other things you want me to do at your shop when I get back, you’ll have to hire me.”
Tandy tried to read his expression as he walked away. Was he sincere about that offer, as well? Because she could use another employee. And with his experience, he would be a good one.
She debated the pros and cons as she finished rolling out the dough for tarts. If only the guy could bake, because her stars looked more like Patrick the Starfish from the Sponge Bob cartoon.
The bell over the door chimed.
Zam nodded as he entered then opened the corner gate for the dogs and hung up both their leashes. Was he planning to stay?
She waited until he faced her again to ask, “What are you doing?”
He picked up a chair and flipped it over to set on top of a table. “Mopping.”
She wanted to argue that the floor wasn’t that dirty, but with her baking, there was flour everywhere. Granted, Marissa wouldn’t be here to slip in it tomorrow, but there was no guarantee the shop wouldn’t have any clumsy customers. “You’re hired.”
Zam grinned. “I know.”
The door flung open behind him, banging against the doorjamb loud enough to block out the sound of the bells. Tandy wielded her rolling pin.
Connor stormed in, jaw set, hands in fists. If she didn’t know him so well, she’d be a little scared. However, she did know him, but not well enough to ever have seen this side of him before.
Zam lifted the mop as his weapon.
Connor glared at the man. “You replaced Marissa already?”
Oh boy. “Marissa is irreplaceable, Connor. Though I can make you some of her chamomile tea to help you calm down.”
He turned his gaze on her. A warning not to offer him more tea. “I don’t want to calm down. I want to find whoever is threatening my bride.”
Tandy held up her hands to show she was on his side. “So do I.”
Connor faced off with Zam. “Is it you?”
Zam looked at Tandy with wide eyes then stuffed the mop back in the big yellow water bucket on wheels as if to say he was out of there. She didn’t blame him. And she also didn’t want to lose his help.
“Connor, this is Zam who won the dog show. Remember?”
Zam held out a hand to shake, despite the unwelcoming flash in the other man’s eyes.
Connor tilted his chin away but kept eye contact with Zam, also radiating mistrust.
Tandy didn’t need to deal with any more drama. “Zam took Cocoa on a walk for me, and he’s offered to help around here since I’m short-staffed. It’s a good thing.”
Zam stuffed his extended hand in his pocket. “I’m sorry, dude. I’m only trying to help.”
“We need more help than a janitor. Where’s Greg? I need him to run a background check on the wedding planner, that deputy Marissa thinks is creepy, and… and…” Connor turned so his back was to Zam so he could point across his chest without the motion being seen and talk without the man reading his lips. “Him.”
Zam’s eyes hardened like he knew what Connor was saying anyway, which wasn’t surprising as Connor really hadn’t been that covert. Apparently, with Marissa gone, her fiancé had taken over her theatrics.
Tandy smiled an apology. “Zam, if I’m going to hire you, I really should run a background check and do a drug test anyway. Nothing personal.”
Connor kept his back to Zam. “Maybe not for you.”
Tandy shook her head in disapproval.
Zam picked up the mop again. “I’ve been a business owner. I understand. And, speaking as a business owner, you should start locking your doors after hours.”
Connor shot a scowl over his shoulder.
Tandy huffed. “Connor, Greg is already l
ooking into Moria and Deputy Romero. We’re going to find whoever put that note on Marissa’s door. It’s been an exhausting day. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
Connor stalked to a bar stool, sat facing Zam, and crossed his arms like Tandy’s bodyguard.
Zam stuck the mop in the bucket for the second time. “Let me know when you get my background check, Tandy. Until then, your bouncer here can mop the floor.”
Tandy watched him retrieve Sheila with the urge to cry in the cookie dough. “Thanks for your help, Zam,” she called after him even though he couldn’t hear.
Cocoa yipped, his little paws against the gate holding him upright. He was sad to see them go too.
Connor followed Zam to the door and flipped the lock closed. “I’m sure Greg will thank me later.”
Tandy was too tired to argue. She also didn’t want to upset Connor if there was a chance he might help clean.
“I’ve heard mopping is a great way to vent frustration,” she said a fraction of a second before turning on her mixer so she couldn’t hear his response.
Marissa could just imagine what a great time her friends were having without her. She’d put all the work into planning special red, white, and blue goodies, and Tandy got to make them, while she sat alone on a back patio in the dark. The safehouse was so far from town that there wasn’t even enough light to see the outlines of the trees in the woods.
Griffin planned to stay the first night to make sure Marissa was safe, but he’d fallen asleep on the couch in front of the television, and he snored. So she’d escaped onto the back patio where the only sound was the chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl. If this was her life for the next two months, she was going to go crazy. She might get to return home after the trial, but then Connor would be marrying an insane woman.
If Tandy was able to get her wedding planned.
Marissa had a special email address set up where they could communicate, but it still wouldn’t be the same as taste-testing the wedding cake herself.
Well, that was the one good thing. Since she wasn’t baking for the shop, she wouldn’t be eating as much sugar. She’d also have plenty of time to do workout videos. She’d be so fit when she returned that Connor wouldn’t even recognize her.
It would be a tradeoff. Fit body, mentally unfit mind.
She smiled at the memory of Connor’s goodbye kiss. The man was willing to give up his life for her. Could she ask for anything more?
Well, yeah. For him not to have to give it up.
Griffin needed to catch whoever it was that posted the note on her door. Had he even questioned her neighbors yet? Surely Opal had seen something.
A spot on Marissa’s bicep zapped with the sting of a mosquito. She slapped at the pest. Then she hugged her arms, but either the night chill was overcoming the summer heat, or she was shivering from anxiety. See? She was going crazy already.
She pushed to her feet. Griffin’s snoring may keep her awake, but at least she’d be warm in her bed. She slid the door open and considered slamming it to wake Griffin from his snoring, but it probably wouldn’t stop him for long. Instead she gently closed and locked the door, sure to draw the blinds. Just in case any fishermen happened to recognize her and mention to their buddies exactly where she was located, and their conversation was overheard by whoever it was that wanted Cash out of jail.
The idea sounded so preposterous that her hideout seemed like a joke. An overreaction. A waste of her life.
Marissa pulled the hairband from her ponytail and massaged her scalp as she trudged toward the hallway. What was her hair going to look like after two months without seeing a stylist? Was she going to have to face the jury like that, or would she get a chance to go to the spa on the way to court?
Something hard jabbed into her hip. The table. Something else smashed against the top of her foot then clattered to the floor.
She looked down to find the cell phone she knocked over. Griffin’s, since she wasn’t allowed to bring hers.
She rubbed her hip that was sure to bruise then bent to pick up Griffin’s phone. She set it farther back on the table this time so there wouldn’t be another accident.
It buzzed under her touch.
She jumped and snatched her hand to her chest. Goodness, she was edgy. She willed her heart rate to slow and sent the offensive device a mock scowl.
The name DEPUTY ROMERO glowed in blue letters from the screen. A text.
She glanced over her shoulder at Griffin. Should she wake him? Could this be important? Or might it possibly incriminate the deputy, but Griffin wouldn’t even notice because he didn’t suspect Romero.
Griffin’s chest rose and fell with a terrible shudder. He was out.
Marissa would check the message for him and make sure it wasn’t anything he needed to be woken up for. That’s what she would tell him anyway.
Tipping forward to get a better look, Marissa tapped the screen. A keypad with nine numbers popped up. Drat. Even though she’d babysat Little Lukey Griffin as a kid, she didn’t know Big Griffin well enough now to figure out his password. She’d have to wake him.
Reaching to pick up the phone, her hand bumped a pile of Griffin’s other possessions. His badge spun then clinked against the table. It landed in such a way that his badge number stared her straight in the face.
Divine providence? Probably not. More like the curiosity that killed the cat. But what if it was the very information in the deputy’s text that saved her life. She could at least try the badge number as Griffin’s password.
Biting her lip, she checked over her shoulder one more time to make sure the coast was clear. Griffin continued snoring loud enough to drown out the sound of even an oncoming tornado. She was good.
She tapped the digits into the screen. A giant Superman logo appeared. Seemed like an appropriate wallpaper choice for the wannabe superhero. But who was Lex Luther?
Marissa clicked on the messaging app. The deputy’s name popped up at the top of a list. She took a deep breath and selected it.
“Finished questioning witness’s neighborhood. Nobody saw anything, including the nosy old lady who plays the organ at church. Could witness have faked the note like she did when she blamed the dog’s blood on an intruder?”
Marissa gasped. What a creep.
First of all, she had trouble believing Romero questioned her neighbors since he hardly ever spoke. Secondly, faking the note would mean she sentenced herself to exile during the most important time in her life.
Nobody would ever believe that. Griffin would most certainly never believe that. He was there when she kissed Connor goodbye.
But why would the deputy want to discredit her? She’d feared that maybe he’d been the one to try to kill Randon and pin it on Cash. But what if they were in this together? What if they’d both been snipers in the military? Cash took the contract killer route, Romero took a job with law enforcement. Then when his buddy got caught, he was there trying to finish the job as well as save him.
Marissa’s mind whirled with different scenarios. Perhaps the deputy hadn’t been able to finish off Randon because Susan had been by his side ever since the last attempt. But Randon was still in danger. And, therefore, so was she.
Chapter Twelve
Tandy yawned and stared at her pathetic attempt at patriotic macaroons in the silver morning light. She’d given up on baking at one in the morning and gone home, but six hours later she was back and even groggier than before.
As for the cookies, they were lumpy and uneven. Cream oozed out the sides. Should she even put them in the display case? Maybe if they tasted good.
She lifted one and nibbled on the sugary fluff. Not bad. Except for the way the filling ran down her fingers. She popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth so she was free to lick her sticky skin.
The bell over the door rang. Sheila entered, followed by Zam.
“You must have had a rough night if you’re eating cookies for breakfast,” he said.
Cocoa woofed.
Tandy would be happy to see him if she wasn’t embarrassed about how Connor had treated him. Connor hadn’t actually gone home last night. He’d fallen asleep upstairs in the tea loft because it reminded him of Marissa. She’d have to wake him soon so he could go clean up before work.
“Hi, Zam,” she said quietly, preferring to wait to wake Connor when there wasn’t anyone in her shop that he could accuse of threatening to kill his fiancée. The sooner she got Zam’s background check the better. Though, if she remembered correctly, Zam wasn’t his first name. “Are you still wanting to work here?”
“I want to help you, and I can do that whether or not you hire me.” He set a large white paper bag with handles on her counter. “Here.”
What could he have brought that would possibly help her? Caffeine. A macaroon-fixing magic wand. A time machine so she could sleep for another four hours. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
Why did he want to help her so badly?
She gave him a funny grin but crossed to the counter and pulled the edge down to peek inside. A carton of store-bought cupcakes. They had star spangled wrappers, but they still weren’t any better than Costco muffins. Sadly, they beat her macaroons and would go in the display case. It was better than she’d done.
She tried not to let her tone go too flat as she thanked him, though it wasn’t like he’d hear it.
He led Sheila to the puppy corner and returned with a smirk. “You don’t seem thrilled with my gift, but maybe I can change your mind.”
With the pizazz of a circus performer, he whisked out the carton along with a bag of clear plastic goblets, M&Ms in the colors of the American flag, and star sprinkles. Juggling and tossing the goblet, he filled it with the chocolate candies, stuck the cupcake on top, and finished with a dash of colorful sprinkles over the whipped cream frosting.
He presented it like Indiana Jones holding out the Holy Grail. “It’s all about plating.”
Tandy accepted the treat and turned it around in her hands to admire. She’d never seen such adorable food. Not that she’d tell Marissa. “If only you’d brought this over before I spent the night slaving away.”
A Latte Difficulty Page 10
