“What?” Tandy’s voice squeaked.
Vic didn’t answer but sauntered toward the angry granny. “Opal, is it? You certainly look as precious as the gemstone.”
“Precious?” Marissa choked on the word.
Vic pulled out the chair across from Opal. “I heard you also drink tea. Would you mind if I join you? I’m new to the area and haven’t had much success at making friends.”
“Good night,” Tandy muttered.” He thinks Opal will fall victim to his charms.”
Marissa’s frustration heated the air around her like steamed milk. Thankfully, she’d been able to stay angry at the charmer. “I was his real victim when he kidnapped me”
Tandy wrapped her fingers around Marissa’s wrist to hold her in place so they could watch the show together. If anybody could deflate Vic’s ego, it would be Opal. “Wait for it…”
Opal pointed at Vic, poised to give a lecture.
Vic reached for her hand then bent over and kissed it.
Opal’s pinched lips parted. The wrinkles around her eyes smoothed. Her cheeks brightened from their oatmeal pallor to a grapefruit glow. She nodded for Vic to take a seat.
Tandy guffawed.
Vic winked.
Opal sent her a scowl.
Tandy’s heart lurched. If the man could even woo Opal, how was she ever going to escape his pursuit?
She and Marissa scurried toward their counter for safety.
Marissa opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of sweet tea. “You gonna go bang some more pots and pans around now?”
“Yes.” Tandy gritted her teeth and imagined smacking Vic in his happy face with a frying pan.
Marissa grabbed a glass. “I can’t believe you ever dated a tea drinker.”
Tandy peeked over her shoulder to find Vic deep in conversation with a woman who might have looked like Opal, had she not been laughing. Who knew Opal could laugh? “He’s the reason I hate tea so much.”
Marissa turned to face her, mouth wide. “It all makes sense now. You don’t really hate tea itself. You hate the—”
“Pretension.” Which had seemed to fit Marissa when they’d first met. But now Tandy’s partner was free to romp around in jumpsuits and snow boots like a crazy woman. And she’d always been too klutzy to become a beauty queen. Hey, maybe Marissa would trip and spill Vic’s tea all over him. That was the revenge fantasy most likely to happen.
The phone trilled. A much-needed distraction. Tandy reached to answer. “I’ll get it.”
Marissa lifted Vic’s glass of sweet tea toward her chest and took cautious, baby steps. Darn. “After I deliver this, I’m going to head upstairs to talk to Connor. He said he needs to tell me something.”
Tandy nodded automatically before the weight of Marissa’s words landed with full impact. If Connor wanted to talk to Marissa, it was probably to tell her that they’d kissed on their little stakeout earlier that week. As if having her ex in the coffee shop wasn’t enough conflict for one day, her co-owner was about to come at Tandy like a coffee grinder.
She grimaced before lifting the phone receiver to her ear. “You’ve reached Caffeine Conundrum. This is Tandy. How may I help you?”
“Tandy!” A voice screeched from the other end. “Is Connor there? I can’t get ahold of him. This is his mom, and I need to talk to him about my Porsche.”
“Yes, I’ll get him.” Tandy stood straighter, looking toward the loft floor overhead. With the agitation in Mrs. Thomas’s voice, she wasn’t calling to discuss an oil change. Oh no. Tandy gritted her teeth to ask the first question that popped into her mind. “Was your Porsche stolen?”
“No. Worse.”
Tandy wrinkled her forehead in contemplation of what might be worse than having a car stolen. “Did you get in an accident? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. The car’s fine. It’s just…”
Tandy shook her head and held a hand wide despite the fact that the other woman couldn’t see her. “What?”
“I was trying to be cautious like the sheriff warned y’all last night, so I chained my front bumper to the fence post. When I went to get it this morning, the back bumper was chained to the fence post.”
Tandy’s mouth fell open, but she held back her laughter. The scenario would only be funny if it was a joke. “Are you sure you remembered correctly?”
“I’m positive. I aligned the car in a way that I could back out without hitting the barn again.”
Again? Tandy pressed her lips together to keep from blurting the word aloud. “Um…” There had to be a logical explanation. “Do you think Connor was playing a trick on you?” That didn’t sound like him, though it would be pretty funny.
Mrs. Thomas calmed. Her tone turned teachery. “I considered all those options. Then I found a note on the front windshield.”
A weight settled on Tandy’s chest. The invisible kind that made it hard to breathe. “What did the note say?”
Mrs. Thomas groaned. “It said, ‘We’ll take your car whenever we want it.”
Chapter Ten
Marissa shielded her eyes from the sunrise as Connor drove under the timber sign that welcomed guests to The Farmstead. She’d left the shop with Tandy so she could support her boyfriend and his distraught mother when police showed up on the property that should have been their family’s safe haven.
“It must have happened when I was asleep.” Connor rubbed his jaw, part playing detective and part blaming himself. “Otherwise, I would have heard the car engine and checked to see where Mom was going.”
Marissa had hoped his reasoning would be that Abigail was mistaken. “Who would come onto your farm in the middle of the night? I want to blame Vic, but I have the feeling that if he were to mess with anyone’s car, it would have been Greg’s.”
“Yeah.” They rounded the shop where Connor stayed in the upstairs apartment and found a gathering of people all staring at a light blue Porsche. “I’d like to think it was kids playing a harmless prank, but kids wouldn’t know how to break into a high-performance vehicle.”
“That means real car thieves came onto your property, but rather than steal a car, they used their skills to simply freak your mom out. Why would they do that? Unless…” Unless their goal was to throw suspicion off George’s brother, Derrick. And who had more motive to do that than Derrick’s daughter, Susan? If she didn’t already know how to steal a car, her dad could give her directions.
Connor passed the Porsche and parked closer to the historic farmhouse where icicles glistened from the roof of the wraparound porch. “Unless what?”
“Susan,” she said.
Connor shut off the ignition and faced her, though with the way his eyes rolled in thought, he was focused elsewhere. “That actually makes sense.”
Marissa didn’t want to suspect the girl, but she hadn’t wanted George to be guilty either. At least nobody had died in this crime. “Let’s go see if Griffin has any clues.”
Connor sighed. “For Mom’s peace of mind, I hope he’s already planning to arrest someone.”
Marissa popped the truck door open and held onto the handle while jumping down into the snow. She hoped the case had been solved already too. Not only for Abigail but also for her business. If Connor was here at the farm all day, he wouldn’t have time to finish her shop. She hadn’t even gotten to join him in the loft before they’d been called away. She still had no idea what surprise he had planned.
She grabbed his hand and swung her door closed, then waited for Connor to walk around so she could grab his arm for balance. “Before we join your mom, do you want to tell me your surprise?”
Connor crunched forward, and she trailed after. It took a moment for him to respond. “Surprise?” Obviously, his thoughts had jumped ahead of them to the crime scene, and he was having trouble reeling them back.
“Yeah, that thing you wanted to talk about in the loft.”
“Oh. Uh…” He scratched his head and shot her a fleeting glance. “I don’t thin
k this is the time.”
Probably not. Being that the next day was Valentine’s, it was probably something romantic. And this was definitely not the place for romance. Especially not if he was going to… She stopped. Was he planning to propose again?
Connor tugged her to continue forward. When she didn’t move, he stopped and glanced back. “You okay?”
She covered her mouth to keep from revealing that she’d figured out his plan, but she also looked at him with the eyes of enlightenment. An engagement would be different this time around. Now she knew they could work through difficult times.
This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. This caring son. This hard-working contractor. This handsome hunk. The golden glint of sunrise highlighted each piece of stubble on his square jaw, making him appear manlier.
“Yes!” The word tumbled out of her mouth as if answering the actual question of would she marry him rather than a question of concern.
Connor’s eyebrow quirked. He didn’t even know how adorable he was, did he?
She loved everything about him, from his oversized truck to the fact that he still lived on his parents’ farm. Completely impractical on one hand but realistic on the other.
When they married, he could move in with her. He’d pretty much renovated her house by himself.
“Okay then.” He tilted his head toward the crowd in front of them. “Are you coming with me, or do you need to run into the house and use the bathroom? I know you drank a bunch of tea.”
So sweet and so off base. In more ways than one. “I’m coming.” She squeezed his hand tighter and tromped through the snow to keep up, wondering if he’d gotten her a ring this time. She really liked oval cut diamonds on rose gold.
Connor let go of her to embrace Abigail. “Mom, are you okay?”
Abigail didn’t say anything, just let him comfort her in the way a mother usually comforted her child. Connor would make a good parent. How many children would they have?
The rumble of tires against gravel and packed snow announced the arrival of another vehicle. McNeil sat behind the wheel of a black Suburban in agent mode.
“Oh man.” Griffin groaned. “Here we go again.”
McNeil joined the group, and was it Marissa’s imagination, or did he look at every single one of them like a suspect? Griffin, Connor, Connor’s parents, a few employees, and her. Her belly fluttered a little, and not only from the excitement of an engagement.
The FBI wouldn’t really think she did it, would they? She couldn’t even break into her own car without getting caught.
Agent McNeil’s jaw worked overtime on his gum. He’d be a handsome man if not for all that chomping. “Give me the rundown, Griffin.”
Griffin would know Marissa didn’t do it. He’d know she was working to get into the good graces of her future mother-in-law.
The Sheriff cleared his throat. “Mrs. Thomas turned on her vehicle remotely at 7 a.m. to warm it up. When she came out to her car approximately ten minutes later, she found it parked backwards despite it having been chained to the fence. There was also a note. The note’s been sent to the lab, the interior of her vehicle is also being checked for DNA, and I’m currently questioning everyone with access to the property.”
McNeil narrowed his eyes at Connor’s mom like he thought she might be making this up. “Was the gate to your property open or closed last night?”
Abigail uncurled from Connor’s embrace and wiped a damp eye. “We only shut it after hours in October to keep out guests that don’t realize our pumpkin patch and corn maze are closed.”
The man’s jaw hardened. “But you thought you needed to chain your vehicle to a fence? Why not lock the gate or even park in the garage?”
Mr. Thomas stepped forward. “That’s my fault. I’m working on my motorcycle in the garage. As for the gate, we didn’t want to lock our son out. He lives on the property and has been coming home well after dark lately.”
Connor straightened. “I’ll start locking it when I come home from now on. I didn’t realize we were in danger. I never imagined someone would—”
“Why were you out so late last night?” McNeil interrupted.
Connor rocked back on his heels. “I was comforting my girlfriend. You know she got stuffed in a trunk yesterday, don’t you?”
McNeil turned his judgement on Marissa. “I heard you were withholding evidence, young lady.”
Marissa’s mouth fell open. “Not at all. I hid the jumpsuit George gave me because I didn’t want anybody to see me put it on. When I found the device inside, I wasn’t sure what it was, and I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it if it wasn’t a big deal.”
“Yes, you seem the type who tries to avoid drama.”
The sarcasm. Marissa jutted her chin forward and motioned for Connor to stand up for her.
He gave a small shrug.
She wrinkled her nose at the man she intended to marry. She’d have to teach him to do better when they were husband and wife.
She stood up taller to face McNeil herself. “How do I know if I’d turned it in on that first day that you wouldn’t have lost it like you lost the recording from Billie’s shop? I’m not the only one making mistakes here.”
McNeil cranked the heat on his laser-like gaze. “How do I know you aren’t the one who broke into Grandma’s Attic and destroyed it?”
“What?” They’d already pinned that on Derrick Snodgrass. Though the allegation depended on him being the one to murder George.
“You were in the area at the time.” The lines in McNeil’s forehead creased deeper when he lifted his eyebrows.
Griffin shifted his weight to focus closer on her, as well. “That’s true.”
“Seriously?” She stepped forward, blessedly without a wobble. “Since I’m the one finding all the clues, let me suggest a theory for you.”
McNeil motioned for her to continue.
“George suspected his brother of stealing Randon’s car but didn’t want to turn him in until after they spoke. As insurance, he planted the device he’d found in Randon’s car in the jumpsuit before giving it to me. Derrick broke into Grandma’s Attic to destroy the evidence, as you already suspected. Derrick was caught, thanks to my fiancé…I mean boyfriend.” Oops. She’d gotten carried away in the heat of the moment. Back to her theory in hopes Connor hadn’t noticed. “Enter Derrick’s daughter who claims her dad is innocent. She doesn’t want to steal a car, but she wants you all to think there are more thieves out there so her dad can be ruled not guilty and get out of jail. Hence, this insane little stunt.”
Abigail’s shoulders sagged in relief at the idea. “That makes sense. And it’s not as scary. I mean, a girl trying to help her dad isn’t as much of a threat as a murderous car thief.”
Agent McNeil looked away as if not wanting to give Marissa any credit. “I’ll question her. But I’m also going to question the rest of you, starting with your farm hands.”
Six of them gathered together in front of McNeil. Marissa knew most of them. Three had been there since she was a little girl and had to be rescued from the corn maze. One was the son of the first farm hand. The last two were new and barely spoke English.
“Do you think any of them could have done it?” Marissa whispered to Connor.
Though what exactly were they looking for? A prankster who’d found another one of the relay attack units Derrick Snodgrass had left lying around? She could see the younger employee being guilty of something that benign. But if this little stunt was in some way related to the theft of Randon’s Corvette, it was very possible that Connor’s parents employed the murderer.
Connor studied the men. “It’s not Bert, Russ, or Carl. They are possibly more loyal to my parents than I am. And it’s not Carl’s son. The kid is headed to seminary next year.”
Marissa studied the scrawny, bowlegged kid. There could have been a slim possibility that he was boosting cars to cover the cost of seminary—she’d known pastors to do worse thi
ngs. But with the dazed look on his freckled face, he didn’t even know what was going on.
“What about the new guys?” she asked.
McNeil focused on them, as well. She listened for his questions. Only he spoke to them in Spanish. That was impressive.
Connor shrugged. “I don’t know enough about them to say. They don’t speak English.”
Marissa studied them more closely. They were dressed for work and for winter in lined flannels and boots much like the ones Connor had bought her. They listened raptly to whatever McNeil was saying, and their intent faces reflected concern. “Well, then it couldn’t have been them because the note your mom found was written in English.”
“That’s a good point.” Griffin joined her and Connor. Probably because he didn’t speak Spanish either. “Your theory about Susan makes the most sense, Marissa. Except for one thing. We searched Derrick Snodgrass’s property and never found Randon’s car.”
Greg sat on a bar stool across from Tandy and sipped his coffee. “If Derrick is the killer, and his daughter is only trying to make him look innocent with the stunt at Connor’s parents’ house, then why hasn’t the Sheriff found Randon’s car yet?”
Tandy looked into her mug with disdain. She didn’t have her usual appetite for espresso, and it wasn’t only because she’d filled up on tea earlier. “Who do you think did it then?”
“Your ex is the obvious suspect.”
She’d figured that was where Greg was headed. “Griffin already questioned him.”
“What does Griffin know?”
Tandy shrugged. “Not as much as me.”
Greg set his mug on the counter. Yes, he’d stopped by the shop on his lunch hour today, but he was still talking about work. It would be nice if he pursued her the way Vic was doing. Unlike Vic, if he asked for a kiss, she would give him one, but he hadn’t asked.
He lifted his chin. “How so?”
Tandy dropped into the seat next to him so as not to have to face off. “I meant that I know Vic better than Griffin does.”
Greg turned his seat to face hers. “And you don’t believe he’s the one who turned Mrs. Thomas’s car around?”
A Cuppa Trouble Page 10
