He didn’t stop though. He followed his dad toward the barge.
Disappointment deflated her lungs. She needed to take her eyes off Connor and look past him toward the shipping containers. A car would fit in one of those, wouldn’t it? Or maybe concealed between them? Though if the Thomas corn exports were part of an entire smuggling ring, there should be more than one car.
Marissa paused to swipe on her own flashlight, except her phone was dead. She rushed to catch up with Greg and Tandy who’d already stepped onto the dock, causing its joints to creak and their footsteps to echo eerily off the water below.
She glanced at the inky liquid in trepidation. She wasn’t known for not falling into things, just like the river wasn’t known for being warm in winter. In fact, the whole Ohio River had frozen over only a few decades ago due to negative twenty-five-degree temperatures. The current temperature wasn’t that frigid, but it would feel like it if she got wet. Or so she’d heard…
Tandy looked over her shoulder. “Want me to hold your hand?”
So they could both go down? “Yes.”
Tandy waited in her spot, forcing Marissa to suck in her core and wobble out alone. Why hadn’t she stopped to put on the ugly snow boots?
These heels weren’t worth the risk. She kicked them off and stepped onto the frosty metal planks barefoot. Her toes stung on contact, but she continued forward, eyes scouting for any possible missteps.
The dock rocked, and the tips of large work boots blocked her path. She grabbed onto Connor for balance, knowing it was him before she even looked up to find his dark shadow as disapproving as a dark shadow could be. “Climb on my back,” he said.
Aw, he did want to protect her despite being upset with her. But… “What if I knock you off balance and you fall in?”
Connor pulled her hands off his biceps to hold her in place while he pivoted and dropped onto one knee. Hopefully this wasn’t as close to another proposal as they ever got. “This dock is wide enough and sturdy enough to drive on with a forklift carrying shipping containers. I’ll be fine.”
Easy for him to say. But Marissa wasn’t going to argue anymore if this man wanted to carry her. Maybe it was a truce. She gripped his shoulders and hopped up to wrap her legs around his hips in the classic piggyback position.
Connor looped his arms under her knees and stood. Her skirt fluffed around her, cinched by his grip.
“This isn’t a truce,” he said. “I just don’t want you to get frostbite.”
She scrunched up her nose in a pout he wouldn’t see and responded with the kind of tone that would keep him from being aware of her displeasure. “Much appreciated.”
“And I would have appreciated it if you wore the boots I bought you.”
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. She loved his warmth and sawdust scent as much as she loved his banter. “The boots clashed with my skirt.”
“Then you should have stayed at the café.” He strode down the dock as if she didn’t weigh more than a backpack.
Connor’s parents, Tandy, and Greg waited at the ramp leading across to the barge. The law enforcement officers must have already gone on with Mr. Cross.
Tandy bounced like a horseback rider instructing her horse to carry her forward. “Let’s go.”
“We’re supposed to wait here.” Abigail’s tone dropped at the end, indicating impatience. It made sense she’d be upset about their farm being used as a front for car smugglers, but she might also be irritated with Marissa’s whole ruining of Connor’s proposal. One might argue that Connor ruined it himself, but Connor’s mother would not be that one.
Marissa sank down behind Connor, using his body as a shield from his family. Once stolen cars were discovered, they’d all be singing her praises.
Onboard, beams of light flashed from container to container. Mr. Cross, Griffin, and McNeil systematically swung each door open on the dozen or so shipping containers. Behind each door a wooden board blocked three quarters of the space with only a small area at the top where the conveyor belt would pour in the corn. These bulkheads had planks nailed at intervals like a ladder, so workers could climb up and look inside. Griffin climbed up one.
“How do they know there’s not a car underneath the corn?” she asked.
Griffin extended something like a broomstick with a handle then poked it inside the freight container.
“Oh.” Marissa’s stomach clenched in anticipation
Tandy stepped beside them. “Is it long enough?” she asked.
Connor twisted to see Tandy around Marissa. “The containers are twenty feet long, and since most cars are about fifteen feet, the E-Z Reacher should be able to reach it even if the car is parked at the far end.”
Mr. Thomas grunted. “If there are cars in with the corn, then I’m not delivering as much corn as was ordered. I wonder if any of my buyers are actually part of this smuggling ring.”
Tandy nodded. “You should give the records of your buyers to McNeil to look into.”
Griffin climbed down before moving on to the next container.
Marissa peered through the darkness. “Did he find anything?”
Greg snorted. “With our sheriff’s eagerness to catch the bad guys, I’d think we’d be able to tell.”
“True.”
Marissa hung onto Connor and spoke in his ear. “Wouldn’t the corn damage cars?”
Connor turned his face to respond, bringing his lips within kissing distance. “I’m sure they protect them with a tarp or something.” In the dim light, she couldn’t make out the expression in his eyes, but he looked away as quickly as he spoke.
“It’s actually an ingenious idea.” Abigail sighed. “I just never expected our farm to be involved in something like this.”
Griffin stomped to the head of the boat ramp. “It looks like your farm isn’t involved, Mrs. Thomas.”
Marissa’s spine stiffened. She hadn’t even considered the fact that she might be wrong. It all fit too perfectly.
Connor’s shoulders sagged underneath her grip. At least someone was relieved. Though this didn’t help their relationship issues.
“Thank you, Jesus,” Abigail breathed.
Tandy hugged herself and shivered. “We’re back at square one. At least we can go home now.”
Marissa squeezed Connor even tighter. Would he take her home? They needed to talk. Plus, she didn’t want to be alone on Valentine’s.
McNeil and Griffin tromped across the wide gangplank to the dock. Griffin stopped in front of Mr. Thomas. “I’d still like to take a look at your shipping records to make sure there’s nothing I missed.”
McNeil breezed past. “I’m going to take the records, Griffin. If this is a case of international smuggling, it’s a federal matter.”
Connor swiveled to watch him pass.
Mr. Thomas moved to follow but paused by Connor. “I’m going to take McNeil to the farm to get our paperwork. You want to meet me there in case he finds something?”
“Sure, Dad.”
Mr. Thomas shot Marissa a look before striding away with his wife.
Marissa grimaced. She usually got along super great with Connor’s dad, though this wasn’t the first one of his son’s engagements that she’d ruined. Maybe she’d crossed the line. Or maybe he was under too much stress to be pleasant. She didn’t blame him. It was probably a good thing there hadn’t been any stolen vehicles on board.
“Does he really think McNeil will find something, or does he simply want you to get away from me?” she asked only loud enough for Connor to hear.
“Neither are good.” Connor turned to follow his father and the law enforcement officers.
“I know.” Marissa sighed. “But I’m hoping good can come out of it. We need to talk.”
Connor paused to let Greg and Tandy pass. Presumably so they could talk right there. She held her breath as the other couple reached land and everybody else climbed inside their cars and started their engines. Now they could talk without
being overheard.
“Marissa—”
“Wait!” Mr. Cross appeared at the end of the gangplank, waving a clipboard.
Marissa looked from him to the taillights disappearing around the bend. Only Greg and Tandy remained.
“What is it?” Tandy asked.
“According to my records, we should have five more freight containers aboard.”
Chapter Nineteen
Tandy squeezed Greg’s hand. Missing shipping containers sounded like a bad thing, but she was new to this whole shipping container thing. She’d always assumed corn was shipped in big piles like she’d seen done on the Ohio River when she lived in Cincinnati. Unfortunately, the freight container method would definitely make getting cars on and off the barge a little easier.
“What does Cross mean?” she asked. If he meant what she thought he meant, she’d need to call the law enforcement officers again. Griffin had to be getting tired of her number popping up on his phone screen by now.
Cross used his flashlight app to study his clipboard closer. “It means either someone lied about loading them or they were removed.”
Tandy’s stomach cramped. If there really was a car smuggling ring, the thieves needed the cargo to be onboard. The only reason to remove it would be in case they got caught. “Marissa did announce to the whole coffee shop that she suspected stolen cars to be on Mr. Cross’s barge. Anyone there could be involved in the ring and contacted the thieves to remove the cars before we arrived. How does that work?”
“It would have to be someone trained in using my forklift.” He motioned toward a small vehicle in front of a large storage building with a silo.” Mr. Cross rubbed his face. “Who would do this to me?”
“It’s not about you, Mr. Cross,” Marissa piped up. “If there were five cars on this load, there might have been five cars on the last load too. That’s ten cars worth around a hundred grand each. But then double or triple that—because that’s what the cars are worth overseas—and you’ve got a three-million-dollar business.”
Greg jerked at the revelations. “That would definitely be motive for killing George.”
Tandy’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t even care that Greg’s first thought was about his client. She simply wanted whoever had brought such crime to Grace Springs to be put in jail. “No wonder the Feds are involved.”
Connor stomped toward land, his footfalls loud in the quiet of their collective shock. When he reached the end of the dock, he swung both Marissa’s legs to one side of his hips then up and over his arm so that she flipped and landed on her feet. Either the couple had taken swing dance lessons together before or Connor turned into a pairs figure skater when stressed. He left Marissa stuffing her feet into her shoes as he ran for his truck. Not exactly Prince Charming with Cinderella.
“You guys take Marissa home.” He stopped and waved Mr. Cross toward him. “Joseph, why don’t you let Billie take your car, and you can ride with me to the farm. I need you to tell Dad what you told us.”
Joseph tromped across the gangplank, pulling out his keys. “Is that all right, Billie?”
Billie nodded.
Tandy reached for Marissa, to keep her friend from losing her balance as she put on her stilettos. And for support, as Marissa’s dreams of a Valentine’s proposal fizzled out like an Italian soda left on the counter too long.
Marissa gripped Tandy’s shoulders and wobbled into her shoes. “Take me to Connor’s,” she whispered.
Tandy glanced over at Greg who shook his head. She wouldn’t have taken Marissa to Connor’s anyway, but now she could blame Greg. “I think Connor has his hands full.”
“He needs my help.” Marissa let go of Tandy and stood indignantly. “I’m the one who figured out how the cars are being smuggled.”
“Yeah, and now it’s going to be handled professionally.”
Greg joined Tandy. “Is this about the crime or about making up with Connor?”
Marissa tucked her chin. “I’m his Nancy Drew.”
Tandy reached for Marissa’s hand. “Come on, Nancy. We’re going to take you back to the shop. I’m sure you two will solve the mysteries of the heart, but right now his farm could be in trouble, and your presence would only add to the stress.”
Marissa let Tandy tug her. “Was I wrong to be upset at Connor about lying?”
Tandy was ready to change the subject. This was her Valentine’s too. She would get Marissa to the café, then she could spend the evening with her boyfriend. “Maybe not wrong. Just the wrong timing.”
Marissa trudged along. “I could be engaged right now.”
Tandy opened the door and placed a hand on Marissa’s head to push her down low enough that she could be stuffed in the backseat like she’d seen cops do to criminals on television. “Let’s do what George did and search out the meaning of things as if we’re listening for God’s voice. For example, if you had said yes to Connor, you never would have had that fight, and we never would have found out what’s really going on here.”
She shot Greg a wide-eyed look of desperation over the roof of the car then climbed into the passenger seat.
Greg joined her and started the engine. “Marissa, your mistakes have helped me too. Even if McNeil doesn’t catch the real criminals, this evidence will give the jury more than reasonable doubt that Derrick Snodgrass committed murder.”
Tandy shook her head and frowned at her boyfriend. She appreciated his skill as an attorney when she’d been the one in jail but getting Snodgrass a not-guilty verdict was not her goal here.
Greg gave her a knowing smile and shifted into drive. “It’s good for my career, but not good enough for the community. I hope they catch the real criminal.”
“Me too.” Marissa sighed from the backseat. “Because I want my boyfriend back.”
Tandy rolled her eyes toward the roof. She kept rolling them as Greg practiced addressing the court for his case and Marissa bemoaned her rollercoaster of a love life. Finally, they reached Caffeine Conundrum and let Marissa out.
Was it too late to salvage their night? Perhaps with dinner at Mama’s Kitchen?
“Mama’s Kitchen?” Greg asked, though he seemed to be focusing on his law office rather than the Italian restaurant across the street.
She could ignore her old insecurities and keep silent out of fear of having them confirmed. Or she could be honest with Greg, knowing that if their relationship was going to work out, she had to improve her communication skills. She opened her mouth to be real.
Her phone rang.
It drew Greg’s attention toward her again. “I was hoping Vic wouldn’t call you tonight.”
He was still worried about Vic? Tandy arched an eyebrow then checked her phone screen. “It’s Connor.”
Greg blew out his breath, but Tandy didn’t know if this was any better. Was Connor in trouble? Had he been arrested for the crime? Or worse, had he been caught by the smugglers, and he’d barely escaped with his life? Would they now come after her because he was going to tell her whodunit?
She tapped the green phone icon to answer. “Connor, are you okay?”
“I’m worried about Marissa.”
Gah. Tandy dropped her head against the headrest. Were they all back in middle school, and she was the go between who had to pass messages back and forth? “Then you should be communicating with her.”
“I need to figure out what to say before I talk to her. Was she right to be mad about me keeping secrets from her?”
Tandy glanced at Greg. If she stayed on the phone with Connor, this could take a while. Though Greg might be okay with that if it meant he could go call his client’s daughter with the update or work on putting together his case.
Maybe that’s how their relationship needed to be. She’d let him pursue his passion while she pursued hers. They could be a team in the way they supported each other without jealousy. “Hold on, Connor.” She leaned toward Greg. “Did you want to talk to your client while I talk to Connor?”
Greg’s eyes widened like he wanted to say yes but was afraid to. Like she was offering him a gift too good to be true.
“Is Greg working on Derrick’s case?” Connor asked. The eavesdropper. “Because there’s no way Derrick is going to jail for murder now. McNeil is calling his whole FBI team in to search for the missing shipping containers.”
Tandy jerked upright. Had she heard him correctly? “Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me this first?”
Greg tilted his head. “What didn’t he tell you?”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Connor explained. “They told me to go back to my apartment and stay out of the way while they investigate. So, I’m stuck here with my parents, thinking about how I blew it with Marissa.”
“You didn’t blow it,” Tandy said automatically, her mind whirring with possible scenarios for what happened to the freight containers and if they really were filled with cars along with the corn.
Greg leaned closer. “What didn’t he blow?”
She covered the mouthpiece, so Connor couldn’t hear as she spoke to Greg this time. “It sounds like the FBI is swarming the area around Connor’s farm by the river. If you want to go tell your client the good news, I’ll go wait with the Thomas family. Connor’s trying to figure out his next move with Marissa.”
Greg glanced at his watch then looked out the window in contemplation. “Going to the farm sounds dangerous.”
“McNeil is there. There’s no safer place.” Though she hoped there were some bad guys too. She’d seen Derrick arrested for his brother’s murder, and the arrest of a ten-year-old boy, as well as Vic getting a ticket for leaving his unlocked car running. She wanted to see a real criminal pay.
Greg rubbed his chin. “If I let you take my car, will you pick me up in an hour?”
“Yes.” Then they could do dinner.
“Do you promise that if you and Connor get into another situation where you either have to make out or be murdered, you’ll die for me rather than kiss him?”
A Cuppa Trouble Page 19
