A Cuppa Trouble

by Angela Ruth Strong

  Connor huffed then lifted his chin in resolve. He was going to be honest.

  But what if Marissa leaned over and kissed him right there? Then she’d be his last kiss. But he could very well define the kiss as manipulative.

  “As I was very careful about what I ate today, I would define my last kiss as…” Greg wrapped an arm around Tandy’s shoulders. “….safe.”

  Marissa wished her relationship was as safe.

  Tandy shuffled the poster board to hold up the correct response. HOSPITAL FREE.

  The audience tittered.

  “Hmm…” Mr. Cross stroked his trimmed, white goatee. “Since you were referring to the same meaning, I will accept your answer. Tandy, I am indeed glad to hear that you were not seriously injured. And Greg, way to leave an impression.”

  More laughter. But that was sure to end once Connor answered the question.

  Mr. Cross turned.

  Marissa took a deep breath.

  “For the lead, Connor. Tell us how you would describe your last kiss.”

  As if in slow motion, Marissa’s eyes rose to meet her boyfriend’s. She could almost hear the drip coffee downstairs, ticking off the seconds.

  Connor’s eyes flashed with the hint of an apology. Then he looked away and opened his mouth. “My last kiss was not safe. In fact, I’d call it dangerous. Because the last person I kissed was Tandy.”

  Stunned silence seeped into Marissa’s pores like steam when pouring from her teapot. She glanced toward Connor’s parents to see their reactions. Abigail held a hand to her heart. Mr. Thomas cleaned out an ear with his pinky finger as if he thought he’d heard wrong. Other people looked at her with pity or glared at Connor. Tandy and Greg seemed to take solace in whispering to each other.

  “It’s not how it sounds.” Connor leaned back in his seat as if thinking that perhaps the worst was over. “Marissa asked me to give Tandy a ride home since her car was stolen, and when we happened to see that very car race by, we followed it to Derrick Snodgrass’s house. We were parked in the woods, about to call the sheriff when Derrick caught us. Scared that he might try to kill us, we pretended we’d only parked there to make out. He let us go, and we were able to lead the police to him.”

  Marissa watched indignance fade from the faces around, and she held up her poster board to join forces with Connor. RISKY.

  Connor read the word then lifted both eyebrows high in surprise and perhaps appreciation.

  “Yes,” she said. “Kissing Tandy was a risk because their lives were in danger and because he knew I’d find out about it.”

  Lips bent upward. Eyes twinkled. Connor’s parents relaxed into their seats.

  Mr. Cross chuckled. “There’s never a dull moment around here, is there? I will accept dangerous as a correct answer.”

  Connor gave her a nod of grudging acknowledgment. He might not feel the same way after the next question.

  “Back to Tandy and Greg.” Mr. Cross turned. “Being that you two shared your first kiss only this week, our last question may be a little premature, but our audience wants to know anyway.”

  Tandy wrinkled her nose. She had nothing to worry about since they were only dealing with hypotheticals.

  Connor leaned forward, forearms on thighs. He probably assumed they had the win locked in now, though high score wasn’t what Marissa was fighting for anymore.

  “What is…” Cross paused for drama.

  Marissa’s heart clogged her throat.

  “…the best way a guy could propose to her?”

  Marissa tried to quiet her insides enough that she could pretend to listen for Greg’s answer while really listening to hear Connor’s every breath.

  Greg crossed an angle over a knee as if this was a fun idea to consider. “I think Tandy would like something private and personal. Maybe like a coffee mug with a ring tied to the handle with a ribbon. Or that teaspoon one of her customers brought in for an upcoming proposal that says, ‘Will you marry me?’ on it.”

  Tandy grinned and flipped her poster board, but on Marissa’s other side, a chair clattered sideways and toppled off the stage, distracting them all from Tandy’s response. Had Connor seriously fallen out of his seat at the idea of proposing?

  Marissa jerked around to find him standing in front of the platform, taking indecisive steps as if unsure whether he was going to stay or leave. His hands roamed in and out of his pockets, over his face, and through his hair.

  “I’m sorry. I just…”

  Marissa gripped the sides of her own seat for balance. She’d always been the one to overreact. What should she do when it was someone else making a scene?

  Her eyes weren’t the only ones glued to Connor. He looked around at them all, as if not confident in who he should address. “I’ve proposed to Marissa before,” he said to the audience, though everybody already knew this. “We broke up, but then we got back together,” he told Mr. Cross. His eyes finally met Marissa’s, flashing from anger to disappointment to an apology then back. “And I was going to propose again today. After our carriage ride, and before this game.”

  Shock numbed her senses physically and emotionally.

  Was he serious? If so, should she be happy or sad?

  Tingles radiated from her sternum into her fingers and toes. “I wanted to marry you, but you’ve been keeping all kinds of secrets.”

  “Yeah. I have.” He crossed his arms. “To pull off a surprise proposal you have to keep all kinds of secrets. My plan was to make this day perfect for you, and I didn’t want anything to ruin it.”

  Oh no. Was that why he didn’t tell her about kissing Tandy or drinking coffee? Because it didn’t matter compared to the commitment of a lifetime? She covered her mouth, afraid to ask.

  Connor dropped his hands to his sides. “Since we’re being completely honest here, I’ll tell you all the other stuff I’ve been hiding.”

  Could she handle any more?

  “I know living above my parents’ shop isn’t manly, but it’s helped me save up the money needed to buy my own house.” He nodded toward his parents who clutched each other’s hands as if in prayer. “In fact, when we finish shipping out this year’s corn harvest to Canada, I’ll have enough to pay for a house in cash. I’d been hoping that if you and I got married, I could pay off your home.”

  Marissa’s covered her mouth as her whole body went numb. The thoughts in her brain turned to television static. “I had no idea.”

  His jawline softened. “You weren’t supposed to. I wanted to make this the best day of your life. Which is also why I’d planned to be finished with your tea room today—Valentine’s Day. This was no accident.”

  He’d done all of this for her?

  She planted her stilettos and pushed to her feet. She didn’t know what to say or do, but she needed to be closer to him. Even if all these people were watching.

  Gripping the edge of the podium, she lowered one foot from the stage to the floor with care. “Connor, I’m so sorry. I thought you were just trying to keep me from blowing up.” With those words, her stiletto tipped sideways. She pitched forward, arms out to grip anything that would help her balance and prevent the sting under her ankle bone from becoming a serious injury.

  Naturally, Connor caught her. That’s what he did. His hands circled her waist like she was a mug of tea. She slid her palms up his chest to hook over his shoulders, so she could right her rolled ankle.

  He faced her from only inches away, but the adoration that usually beamed through his expression was missing. “The thing is, Marissa, if you trusted me, then you wouldn’t blow up. I went through all this trouble to make today perfect for you, and you still don’t trust me.”

  Guilt pricked like Cupid’s arrow. Here she was, in the arms of the man she loved, and she’d somehow found a way to destroy their relationship like she destroyed everything else that had the misfortune of getting in her way.

  She bit her lip, absorbed confidence from his warm touch, and stared into the depths of his
silvery eyes. “I want to trust you.”

  “But?” he asked, and she could almost feel the entire audience in the room lean closer to listen.

  But what? But he’d been keeping secrets from her? Yeah, like how he planned to propose and how he would have enough money to pay cash for a house after they shipped their corn to Canada?

  Wait. They shipped corn to Canada? The thought snagged her focus away like a shepherd’s crook used to yank cartoon characters off stage. “Why do you ship corn to Canada?”

  The corner of Connor’s eyes wrinkled. “They make ethanol out of it since their government requires more ethanol to be used in gasoline than ours. Why?”

  Her eyes roamed Connor’s face as she connected the dots. If the car thieves were using the Thomas corn shipments as a way to smuggle cars, then they had a good reason to be on the farm and were likely the ones who turned Abigail’s Porsche around.

  “Connor…” she breathed.

  An eyebrow dipped down in confusion. “Yeah?”

  He had every right to be confused. She’d gone from the topic of wedding proposals to foreign fuel. She’d better explain. “I think stolen cars are being smuggled in your corn shipment to Canada.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tandy had viewed Connor’s confession like a soap opera until Marissa mentioned car smugglers. Then she switched the channels in her head to a crime drama--where she tuned in to Columbo.

  Tandy stepped down from the stage. “Mr. Cross, you do the shipping for Thomas Farms, don’t you?”

  Joseph looked between Tandy and Connor. “I do.”

  Marissa directed her question toward Connor. “Where are you in the shipping process?” She happened to be still in his arms. Perhaps she was also picturing herself in a crime drama, but one with a romantic lead like Remington Steele.

  Connor looked over his shoulder at his dad like the talk of smuggling was as irritating as a commercial break at a show’s climax. Hopefully the couple worked everything out at the end of their episode, but Tandy didn’t have the time to watch.

  If Marissa was right about the smuggling, then Randon’s car might be on Cross’s boat right then. The FBI could impound it and maybe even get fingerprints from it to capture the entire smuggling ring as well as George’s real killer.

  Mr. Thomas stood. “We’ve got our second shipment loaded and ready for transport.”

  “It’s leaving in the morning.” Cross loosened his bowtie. “I’m part of the Trusted Trader Program with Canada, so I rarely get inspected, but the Thomas family and I have been doing this for a long time without any issues.”

  Tandy’s nerve endings danced the Jitterbug. Either she’d drank too much caffeine, or she was onto something. “Mr. Cross, that would make you a prime candidate to be used in smuggling.”

  Greg stepped down beside her. He must be putting the pieces together, as well. Pieces that would get his client off with a not-guilty verdict. “We need to call the sheriff down to your dock right away, Joseph.”

  Connor dropped his hands from Marissa’s waist, but not until after he’d sent her a look that said stay-tuned. Tandy could feel the heat of it from where she stood. “Should we go down there, Dad?”

  Mr. Thomas shook his head in bewilderment. “I can’t believe anyone could smuggle cars in with our corn, but I also didn’t believe anyone could ever turn Abigail’s Porsche around when she had it chained to a fence.”

  Cross didn’t move. “Tandy, you know what it’s like to be falsely accused. This could hurt my business. What reasons do you have for suspecting a smuggling ring?”

  Tandy met the debonair man’s intense eye contact. It said he didn’t like to have his authority questioned, and this wasn’t the first time she’d questioned it. “It’s only going to hurt your business if there are stolen cars onboard your ship.”

  “It’ll hurt my business to be investigated by the police.”

  Billie set her hand on Cross’s arm. “Dear, there are worse things than hurting your business. These car smugglers could be the same ones who broke into my shop.”

  Cross’s wrinkled brow smoothed slightly. “Fine. Call Griffin. But you’re not going to find anything.”

  Tandy dialed the sheriff but didn’t even wait for Griffin to answer before she grabbed her coat. She was going down there too. Greg didn’t argue but led the way to his car. It was so great being on the same team again.

  The crowd dispersed just as quickly. With Cross and the Thomas family all wanting to be at the dock for the investigation, there wasn’t much of a gameshow left to watch.

  Greg held the door open for Tandy as the patrons filed out of Caffeine Conundrum. This wasn’t how she’d expected their grand opening to end, but hopefully it would be full tomorrow with everyone wanting to know if the car thief had been apprehended.

  She sank into the passenger’s seat as she finished her explanation to Griffin over the phone.

  He muttered a few words under his breath before agreeing to meet them at the dock. “I suppose I should let McNeil know too.”

  Tandy smiled at his attitude. The poor guy kept having his cases taken care of for him. First by her and Marissa then by the Feds. And he tried so hard. “We’ll see you there.”

  Greg snapped her door shut then walked around to the driver’s side. “If the real murderer is caught tonight, then this is the best Valentine’s gift you could have given me.”

  Tandy laughed. They may have had their challenges, but they were so meant to be together. “What? You didn’t enjoy telling a room full of people all the secrets of our relationship?”

  “I actually did enjoy that more than I expected to. But only because you were there.” He started the ignition. “Do you think we won?”

  The back door popped open as he spoke.

  Tandy momentarily relived the competition. “Well, you didn’t knock over your chair when asked about the possibility of proposing.”

  Marissa dropped into the rear, rocking the car slightly. “Did you two know Connor was planning to propose today?”

  Tandy twisted to look her friend in the eye as she told the truth. “Yes.”

  Greg’s eyes widened, perhaps as he made the connection to Tandy’s knowledge of Connor’s proposal being connected to the teaspoon he’d mentioned. He shifted into drive without another word, and they headed back into the middle of Marissa’s soap opera.

  Tandy faced her friend. “Susan was supposed to be part of the proposal, but she showed up earlier than expected. As you know.” Boy had that backfired. “Anyway…good job making the connection to the corn shipments.”

  Marissa pulled on her gloves and peered through the windshield at the taillights of the car up ahead. Big pickup truck. Probably Connor. Interesting that she wasn’t riding with him.

  “I do have experience spotting smugglers.” She turned a pointed expression Tandy’s direction which was spotlighted by a passing streetlight. “Coffee smugglers.”

  Tandy faced forward. She had other places to go rather than on a guilt trip. “You never smelled his coffee breath?”

  “No. Perhaps I was too trusting. Like you were with Vic.” Marissa pointed to the turn Connor took as if Greg needed her to navigate.

  Tandy twisted around again despite the tug of gravity as Greg turned onto the side street that headed toward the river. “What?” she demanded. “How does Connor sneaking coffee have anything to do with Vic?”

  “Well, Vic’s probably the one in charge of this car smuggling ring,” Marissa said. Likely out of spite. “Don’t you think we’ll find his fingerprints all over the shipping containers?”

  “No.” Tandy’s tone could not have been more indignant. She quickly checked Greg to make sure she wasn’t coming across too defensive of her ex.

  Greg lifted a shoulder and sent her a quick glance in the dim light. “It’s a possibility. I mean, the thing with Connor’s mom’s Porsche could have been to get back at Connor for kissing you.”

  “Greg, you’re taking this atto
rney thing too far, building a case against an innocent man. Neither Vic nor Marissa knew I’d kissed Connor. So, according to the likeliness of your argument, Marissa is as much a suspect as Vic.”

  “Me?” Marissa squeaked. “You think I did it? I’m the one who made the connection with the shipping methods and the whole reason we’re headed to the dock right now.”

  Tandy threw up her hands. “No, I don’t think you did it. Just like I don’t think Vic did it.”

  Marissa leaned forward between the seats. “Then who did?”

  Tandy thought back to her stake-out with Vic where they’d seen the small thief and assumed it was Susan Snodgrass. Too bad the woman had an alibi for the Porsche incident.

  “It’s not Derrick Snodgrass,” Greg defended his client.

  Tandy didn’t want to argue. “Probably nobody we’ve ever seen. I mean, this kind of crime usually happens in big cities. There’s probably someone from the big city in town that we don’t know about.”

  Greg slowed for the turnoff to Cross’s dock. “From what I’ve seen, Griffin has been very, very thorough. Too thorough—giving Vic a ticket for not turning off his car and arresting a ten-year-old. I suspect that perhaps McNeil knows some stuff about this case that Griffin doesn’t. I’m glad he’s going to be here tonight.”

  Tandy was too. Kind of took the pressure off them to have to solve the crime, which was good since Marissa and Connor had their own problems to figure out.

  Marissa had hoped working to solve this crime would bring her and Connor together. But instead, he’d told her she’d be safer if she didn’t go to the dock and had taken off without her. With as well as Connor knew her, he should have expected her to follow. Marissa was invested in this thing now more than ever. Because either she’d solved the crime, or she’d ruined Valentine’s Day. Again.

  By the time Greg pulled up at the dock, five cars had already parked, and everyone from the FBI to the sheriff to Joseph Cross to the Thomas family were heading out toward a flat barge with flashlights, most of them from apps on their phones. Marissa’s eyes trained in on Connor as if she was wearing night-vision goggles. He glanced up when Greg parked. See? He’d known she’d hitch a ride.