“Sheriff.” McNeil stopped him without even looking over. “None of this is public information.”
Billie motioned toward her. “Tandy isn’t the public. She’s a victim. The stolen Volkswagen belonged to her.”
The agent flipped through a pad of paper. He’d probably been doing his job so long that he’d started before smartphones were a thing. “I’m aware of that.”
Tandy arched her eyebrows at the man’s response. He’d be handsome except for his arrogant indifference.
She leaned in toward Griffin. They could tell secrets if they wanted to. “Is Agent McNeil irked that you arrested the suspect without him?”
Griffin didn’t answer, but his chest puffed up a little bigger.
Tandy faced the big city agent again. Funny she should think of him as an outsider when she’d moved from a big city only a few months ago. “Besides being a victim, my boyfriend’s also offering to represent your suspect in court. The suspect’s daughter is across the street at my coffee shop, telling everyone he’s not guilty.”
That got McNeil’s attention. It came in the form of a scornful stare.
“Why?” Griffin held his hands wide as if addressing the question to heaven. “Why would Greg do this to me?”
“Don’t worry about it.” McNeil strode toward the door, pausing to pat Griffin on the back. “You did good work last night, and this case is going to be airtight.”
Tandy eyed the agent suspiciously. He seemed a little too buddy-buddy after having his case solved for him. “Why are you here then, McNeil?”
McNeil stopped and sized her up. “If it makes you feel better, Miss Brandt, you can tell your boyfriend I received a tip from one of my informants that someone from the body shop had been illegally ordering keys from car manufacturers. I had my eye on Derrick Snodgrass since he has a recent history of grand theft auto.”
This helped Tandy’s case more than Greg’s. “So you were already here investigating when George was killed?”
McNeil continued like she hadn’t even asked a question. “Snodgrass couldn’t keep his hand out of the cookie jar and decided to start with Randon’s collector car, but he got stuck in the snow. He likely took off for the shop to use a tow truck, but George saw the Corvette first and assumed Randon was the one who’d abandoned it. Unfortunately, George must have caught his brother trying to steal it again.”
That’s exactly what she’d suspected. “Susan doesn’t think her dad would kill his brother over a car, but I told her that it could have been an accident.”
McNeil’s drab blue eyes glinted with a trace of respect. “Or it could have been an act of rage.”
Tandy nodded slowly. She’d seen the rage in Derrick’s daughter. Who was to say that wasn’t a family trait? “You suspected Derrick Snodgrass all along?”
“I only needed solid evidence.” McNeil chomped his gum. “I’d expected that evidence to come from the security camera here at Grandma’s Attic, but luckily you saw Snodgrass driving your car last night. Thanks to you, Miss Brandt, I get to wrap up the case and head home.”
Case closed. Tandy would tell Greg about the electronic keys Derrick had ordered illegally, and Greg would drop his client. Tandy sighed in relief.
Griffin echoed the sigh.
Though McNeil should be the one sighing. How nice that he got to go home when the rest of them were heading to George’s memorial.
Tandy stayed behind as the law enforcement officers packed up and took off. She wanted to see how the other victimized business owner was doing.
Billie sliced up an apple, put the pieces on a vintage Asian rice bowl, and lowered it to the floor for Cocoa who wiggled against Tandy’s chest at the sight. Tandy unzipped her jacket to release the hound. She didn’t mind the treat as it cleaned Cocoa’s teeth and freshened his breath. She didn’t agree that he should be served on such a costly and fragile dish, but Billie spoiled everyone she met.
As if on cue, Billie looked up at her. “Apple cider?”
Tandy smiled. “You know that stuff is too sweet for me.” Plus she had to save room for té con leche. “I came over to see how you’re feeling after the break-in?”
Billie hugged herself. “I bought the security camera so things like this wouldn’t happen. At least nobody else was hurt.”
Tandy nodded. “We’re getting a security camera too. Are you going to George’s funeral?”
“Yes.” Billie looked at her vintage diamond watch. “Joseph is picking me up soon.”
“Oh good.” Tandy let her eyes wander around the store at the ornate furniture, delicate dishes, and shelves of costume jewelry. It was nice seeing an older woman finding new love, and she hoped she and Greg were still together at that age.
“Are you going with Greg?” Billie asked as though she could read Tandy’s thoughts.
Tandy blinked to get rid of any expressions that might be giving her away. “Yes.”
Billie reached out and caressed her arm in a grandmotherly fashion. “Does he know how you feel about him representing the man who stole your car?”
Tandy shrugged off her discomfort with the idea, not Billie’s touch. “It’s his job.”
Billie rubbed up her arm until she was giving Tandy a backrub despite how her tiny frame barely reached Tandy’s shoulders. “I’m sure your feelings are more important than his job.”
Tandy folded her arms against the helplessness Billie’s gentleness released. “I don’t want to be selfish.”
Billie tilted her head. “It’s not selfish to be honest.”
Tandy twisted her lips to one side to consider the wording for her emotions. “If you can tell that I’m uncomfortable with him representing the guy who stole my car, he should be able to as well.”
“Hmm…” Billie’s hand slipped down Tandy’s back then she stepped in front to face Tandy. “What you’re saying is that you feel like a lower priority, and you’re afraid to tell him that because he might not prove you wrong.”
Tandy focused on the peacock blue and rust colored interlocking designs of the oriental rug. Why did Billie have to see through her so clearly? “Yes.”
“So instead of being vulnerable and telling him how you feel, you’re going to run around gathering evidence against his client in hopes that it will convince him to change his mind.”
Tandy peeked up. “Maybe. But you make it sound way worse than it is.”
Billie met her gaze and gave her hand a firm squeeze. “It’s simple. The first key to communication is to be vulnerable.”
Isn’t that what Tandy had done that morning while telling him about kissing Connor? That’s more than Connor and Marissa had done. So she could be worse off.
As for talk about Greg’s work, he’d apologized but then went right back to prioritizing clients over her. If he never changed, was she supposed to keep asking for attention and getting rejected? Or could she learn to deal? AKA manipulate. That didn’t sound good either. The term “help” sounded better. She was helping Greg make good decisions for his business. There.
Billie meant well, but the idea of vulnerability could be as outdated as her antiques. These days, a woman had to be tough, independent, and resourceful.
Tandy would help her career man by protecting him from taking on a guilty client. This would be finding justice for George, as well. There was nothing wrong with that.
Marissa flipped the shop sign from open to closed even though it was the middle of the afternoon, but the whole town was pretty much closing down for George’s memorial. She pulled on her dress coat with the flared skirt that was too fancy to have pockets and waited for Connor to join her. Her lace dress itched, but it was the only black dress she owned besides the one with the skinny belt and full, knee-length skirt that Tandy had borrowed.
Her friend didn’t own a dress and refused to wear lace. Most likely she would pair it with a motorcycle jacket and biker boots. She’d run home to change since she had to take Cocoa back before the service anyway.
Con
nor descended the stairs, looking like he’d stepped out of a men’s catalog rather than pulling a quick-change in the bathroom. She’d barely seen him that day with as hard as he’d been working in the loft, but he was worth the wait. The last time he’d worn a suit and tie was on New Year’s Eve when they’d decided to start dating again.
Though this wasn’t as festive an occasion, she was glad to have Connor by her side. Focusing on the loss of a life made her more appreciative of the people she still had around.
She pulled on her fur-lined gloves. “I’m so glad I have you.”
Connor stopped in front of her at the door, and she lifted her chin for the expected kiss. Instead he tilted his head and studied her. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good. In fact, it sounded like he might want to break up. But how could that be? Everything had been going so well. They were even competing in The Dating Game in a couple days.
Marissa steeled her heart. She was the one who did the breaking up, not the one who got broken up with. “What’s that?”
“Last night…” He looked down.
What about last night? It had been a crazy night. He’d been planning to make her spaghetti then ended up tracking down Derrick Snodgrass instead. And she’d discovered Billie’s break-in.
Had he been worried about her? Felt bad he didn’t make her the spaghetti he’d promised? They hadn’t had much alone time lately, but they could make up for it. Life could be worse. “It’s okay,” she said.
He looked up. A crease formed between his eyebrows.
Tandy burst through the door, full skirt swishing underneath her leather jacket. “Come on. You guys can ride with us.”
Connor blinked wide eyes. “You and…Greg?” he asked.
Marissa bumped him with her shoulder as she turned toward the door. “Who else would she be with? Let’s go.” She climbed into the backseat and let the seat warmers comfort her like a hug. Tandy climbed in after her, giving Connor the extra leg room of the front seat.
Connor took his spot and tugged at his tie. “How are you, Greg?”
Greg stepped on the gas. “I’ve been better.”
“Oh, yeah?” Did Connor’s voice crack? That was weird.
“Yeah. It’s weird going to a memorial for the victim your client has been accused of murdering.”
Connor nodded for a long moment. “I bet.”
Tandy tilted sideways to whisper to Marissa under the smooth jazz playing on the radio. “Greg doesn’t believe the FBI that Derrick is the only guilty party.”
So that’s why Tandy wanted her there. She was supposed to help keep Greg from poking around and investigating at the somber event.
“I feel bad for Susan,” Marissa offered aloud as a peace offering. “It would be hard to attend a funeral where everybody believes your dad is the man’s killer.”
“Especially when you know your dad is innocent,” Greg added, turning onto the side street.
Connor shifted a couple of times in his seat. “Everybody thinks their loved ones are innocent.”
Greg pulled into the parking lot. “She says that her dad wouldn’t have risked stealing Randon’s car because it was so rare. He stole cars to sell parts, and the risk of putting stolen parts from a one-of-a-kind Corvette out on the market was not worth the money he could make off it.”
Marissa tapped her chin. This was new information to her. “If Randon’s car was really that rare, who would steal it and how would they expect to get away with it?”
Tandy narrowed her eyes at the indication Marissa was considering Derrick’s claim. But she didn’t speak, so she must not have had an answer to Marissa’s very valid question.
Greg pulled to a stop and parked before twisting around to look at her. “That is a great question, Marissa.”
Tandy lifted a finger. “If it’s a collector’s car, then maybe a collector wanted it. They could have known about Derrick’s criminal history and offered him money to steal the car. We should ask Randon if he’s had any offers or if he beat out someone in an auction for the vehicle.”
Greg shot Tandy a measuring glance. Was he measuring the plausibility of her suggestion or the motive behind it? “We should definitely talk to Randon. Because one of those collectors could also have hired a different thief or stolen the car themselves.”
Marissa tapped her chin and looked at Tandy. She understood Tandy’s reasoning for wanting to see Derrick Snodgrass behind bars for the theft of her own vehicle, but was she doing justice a disservice by not considering all angles? And more importantly, could her attempt at single-handedly trying to fix her relationship with Greg be doing more damage than good?
Tandy smiled tightly. “Let’s go talk to Randon.”
Chapter Six
Tandy spotted Randon at the front of the full church, though it was kind of hard to miss him sitting in the front pew next to the girl with pink hair. How did that happen?
She followed Greg down their row then turned to nudge Marissa. “I thought Randon was mad at Susan for defending the man who stole his car.”
Marissa glanced the direction she pointed like it was no big deal. “Oh, yeah. Well after you left for Billie’s, Susan had a little breakdown, and Randon ended up comforting her.”
Tandy narrowed her eyes as she sat on the hard, wooden pew. First of all, she didn’t know Randon was capable of caring about anybody’s feelings other than his own. Secondly, if he was capable, why did it have to be Susan’s feelings he cared about? It might cause him to tune out his inner conspiracy theorist.
Marissa beamed like she’d set them up herself. And maybe she had. She was a sucker for the color pink. “I think they are kind of adorable together.”
Tandy gritted her teeth and focused on the funeral program. There was a photo of George, grinning up at her in his coveralls. Her jaw released with grief. Had it only been the day before when she’d served him coffee?
Organ music hushed the crowd into silence. She’d been to funerals before but always for elderly folks who’d lived long lives. Like Opal the organist, who was living longer than anyone expected her to, though she didn’t seem happy about it.
Pastor Meade stepped to the podium. “Thank you all for coming today. George was a dear friend of mine, and not only because he saved me a lot of money on church van repairs.”
The crowd chuckled, and Greg reached for her hand. Tandy took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. She’d wanted more time with her boyfriend, right? It was just a shame an innocent man had to die for her to get it.
The Pastor cleared emotion from his throat. “George came to me a decade ago after getting out of prison. He wanted to confess his sins. I told him he didn’t need me to do that.”
Tandy glanced toward Susan. Would the talk of confession make her feel guilty?
Pastor Meade continued. “I explained that God is always available for communication with us. All we have to do is talk, listen, and value that time together as a gift because God values us.”
The word “value” plucked at one of Tandy’s heartstrings, and her attention turned from Randon and his walking Valentine to the minister who was speaking to her soul. Value was what she wanted from Greg, wasn’t it? And it was exactly what she was afraid to ask for. As if she didn’t think she was worth valuing.
She clutched his hand and shifted closer. Could he sense that she felt this way?
“After that…” Pastor Meade pressed his lips together for a moment before continuing. “He taught me about prayer. He came here on the morning he died as he joined me every Wednesday morning at six a.m. I’ve never heard anyone so vulnerable when they talked to God.”
Vulnerable? Like Billie suggested was the key to communicating with people? Why would one need to be vulnerable with God if He already knew everything?
Tandy glanced over her shoulder to find Billie, but the woman had her head down with eyes closed as if in prayer.
“George didn’t only listen, but h
e would search for understanding in everything. He would quote Proverbs 25:2, saying, ‘It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings.’” Pastor Meade shook his head. “He drew closer to God to really see things from God’s perspective. And that, my friend, is how I believe you define a man after God’s own heart.”
Tandy shifted at the idea. Was she more after a man’s heart than God’s heart?
“The George we know went straight from prison jumpsuits to mechanic jumpsuits, but he lived the end of his life like King David. And right now…” The pastor pointed to heaven. “I believe he’s got a crown on his head that he’s about to go cast at the feet of Jesus. Because God didn’t just have value in his life. God gave him value.”
Whoa. What a visual. Made the value gotten out of stealing a car seem kind of silly.
Marissa leaned closer. “How is anyone supposed to follow that?”
A few people tried. Two employees, his butcher—apparently he ate a lot of meat, his barber—which was funny because he didn’t have a lot of hair, and then Susan stood up.
Tandy sat at attention. Was Susan even doubtful of her dad at all? How would it affect her if she found out he was a murderer?
Susan adjusted the microphone then tucked a pink strand of hair behind her ear. “My first memory of Uncle George was when he came to visit and brought me a Power Wheels. Most kids had bikes, but I had my little pink Barbie Convertible.”
That still didn’t justify the pink hair.
“I’d come visit him here in the summers.”
Tandy could relate to that. Grace Springs had been her happy place as a child.
“And when my dad went to jail.” Susan looked down.
Tandy’s heart melted a little, and she rolled her eyes at herself. She wanted Derrick to be guilty because that would make her life easier, but the more Susan spoke, the more she didn’t want Susan to have to go through any more pain. No wonder Greg fell for this sob story.
Susan shared memories of George teaching her how to drive, and how she’d driven his Fiat through a garage door, not to mention that time she’d worked in his body shop and accidentally wrote down the order for him to paint a car blue instead of black. They tugged at Tandy’s heartstrings until the point she was beginning to hope the girl’s father wasn’t guilty of killing her hero.
A Cuppa Trouble Page 6
