craftfield 01 - secrets untold

by brooklyn shivers

  Who had done it? She was out of suspects and ideas. Would the killer return? Was he or she a customer of theirs

  Thoughts swirled through her mind as patrons came and went throughout the day. She found herself staring into the eyes of all of them, trying to pick up a vibe or another vision like she had of her mom’s death, which would flag the guilty party. But nothing happened, except she made the people uncomfortable with her stares.

  The phone rang.

  “Ice Dreams,” Lily answered, “How may I help you?”

  “Yes, this is Mr. Davis.”

  Davis? She shuffled through paper orders stacking up in a corner by the register. Had she missed a pickup? Crap. “Yes?”

  “Colt Davis. I left my card the other day with you?”

  “Right.” She bit her lip trying to recall.

  “I wanted to know if you’ve thought about my offer of selling the place.” He paused. “I know this might not be the best time, but I need your answer and am willing to increase the amount by twenty percent.”

  The guy in the suit. She rummaged through her purse under the counter. “Just a minute.” Had he given her an amount? She didn’t recall that.

  The door chimed, and Lily plastered a smile on her face and stood. Why was the shop so busy during wintertime? Michael met her gaze.

  She pointed to the phone and he nodded. Going back to her purse, she pulled out the pale yellow card and flipped it over. $100,000 was written in ink on the back. The phone jumped out of her hand and she scrambled to catch it before it hit the floor. He wanted to buy the shop? Holy cow!

  “Are you there?” he asked, his voice deepening on the other end of the line.

  “Uh… yes.”

  “Like I said, I can increase my offer. You’ve got a lot going on right now with your mom passing and trying to run the place. If you take the money, you can start anew. Pay off your bills, find a nice place. What do you say?”

  She stiffened. The guy was being a little pushy. Still, the idea of the money and what all she could do with that appealed to her. Not having to work all the time. Taking a vacation. Going overseas even. “Let me get back to you. I have a customer.”

  He exhaled loudly. “I need an answer by Friday.” The phone line went to static.

  She replaced the phone, unease spreading through her.

  “Everything good?” Michael asked.

  “Yeah. Just some guy wanting to buy the shop.” She ducked around the counter and gave him a hug.

  “You thinking of selling the place?” He frowned. “Can’t imagine something else here.”

  “I haven’t made a decision yet.” At first, she’d wanted to get rid of the place. If she’d seen the offer that first day, she’d have accepted right then. But now as time had passed, she wasn’t so sure. She’d like to discuss it with her aunts - if they hadn’t fallen off the planet. And she still had her mom’s funeral to arrange. The money would help pay for everything, and she was being charged daily for keeping her mom’s body frozen as she waited for her Aunt Jessica and Martha to get in touch with her. It didn’t seem right to have the funeral without them, but she couldn’t wait forever.

  “If I had the money, I’d buy it from you, but all my expenses are taken.”

  “Thanks for the thought.” She gave him a hug. “Are you heading back to New York?”

  “Yeah. I’m heading back to the university tonight.”

  She pulled back. “You don’t sound happy about it. What about your girlfriend, Susan?”

  “We had a fight.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Her ex has been giving her problems. I told her to block his calls, but she’s too nice.”

  “It’ll work out.” She said the words and hoped she was right.

  “Take care of yourself.”

  “You too.” She walked him to the door. A crunch sounded under her shoe. What was that? Bending down, she wiped the bottom of her heel.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I stepped on something.” Crushed glass littered over her fingers. What the hell? She went to the trash to throw the flakes away, Michael following after her. Dusting off her hand, she noticed the shard from this morning and the scrap of paper she found wedged underneath the edging. Wait. She bent and picked up the fragment. It was thicker than paper… like a business card. The guy asking her if she was selling the place… Did he have something to do with her mom’s murder? Her heart hammered and she started shaking.

  “Lil, are you—”

  She darted around him to the business card she’d left on the counter. They matched. It was the same color, same material, everything.

  Had this guy talked to her mom? Gotten upset, because she knew her mom would’ve told him no without even listening to him.

  “Oh my God!” Had this guy killed her mom?

  “What is it?” Michael drew closer.

  “This guy wants to buy the place.” She held up the card and the extra piece. “And I found this wedged underneath there with a piece of glass… from where my mom was murdered. I mean, it might be a coincidence, but what if it’s not?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lily chewed on her nail as she waited for Mr. Davis to show. The cool temperature of the ice cream did nothing to keep the sweat from sliding down her back. Probably nerves and the Kevlar vest Jarred had insisted she wore underneath her clothes. Across the ice cream shop, Michael sat with a jumbo bowl of ice cream, pretending to be a patron. She’d never imagined she’d be used as bait for her mom’s killer. But she’d do anything to find the guilty party, no matter how bad her nerves colliding against each other and the urge to flee and run were flooding her.

  Behind her in the supply room, Jarred gave her a thumb’s up. Both he and Wells were stationed in the back of the shop, and she was wired so her conversation with Mr. Davis would be recorded.

  What if this guy was innocent? Or worse, guilty, and she couldn’t pull it off and get him to admit what happened?

  “Feeling okay?” Jarred asked from the doorway. His body was hidden in the supply room.

  “No.” She was going to botch this, wasn’t she? “What if I screw up or forget everything you told me on how to get him to talk?”

  He poked his head around the corner and gave her a smile that sent her heart racing. “You’ll do fine. Even if he doesn’t admit anything, we’ll bring him in for questioning. But I know you want this resolved as soon as possible… and if this works… this is the quickest way. Otherwise, it could take hours - if not days of grilling him - to get something out of him.”

  Her stomach flipped. She needed to do this. Had to try. Her mom’s funeral was finally scheduled for this Saturday, and she wanted her killer convicted before then.

  “Take a deep breath. Imagine you’re playing a game of poker and you have all the winning cards. This guy just doesn’t know he’s already lost, okay?” Jarred ducked back behind the door.

  And what if they were wrong and this guy was innocent? She placed her arms across her stomach as it rolled, threating to unload everything she’d been able to eat that day. Which wasn’t much.

  The bell over the door chimed and it rang through the shop and into her bones as Mr. Davis sauntered in. Her stomach crawled into her throat. This was really happening. She was going to catch a killer - if he was guilty. Every fiber of her being said he was. He wore a crisp blue shirt with a striped tie and dark navy suit. This time, he didn’t have his briefcase, just a cell phone and a checkbook that he sat on top of the counter.

  “Good to see you, Miss Thomas.” His spicy cologne was so strong she fought not to gag. Seriously, it could probably stop bullets better than the Kevlar she was wearing. “With your mother’s passing, I know this has been hard on you to make the right decision. But since you are the sole owner now, all I need you to do is sign this paper giving me Ice Dreams and you can go live your life blissfully.”

  He reached for something in his jacket pocket.

  She flinched, thinking it could be a gun or
knife. Instead, he brought out a piece of paper. Her heart jammed in her throat as he pushed the piece of paper towards her on the counter. She couldn’t even concentrate enough to read it.

  “H-How much again? For selling the place?”

  “I can write you a check for one hundred and twenty thousand dollars.” He smiled showing all his teeth, but it didn’t reach his eyes as he set a silver fountain pen on top of the paper.

  She took a deep breath but didn’t move closer toward the paper. “I-I’m just not sure about this. My mom—”

  He hissed, then schooled his features. “Think of it, you’ll be free with enough money to get your own place. Take a vacation to anywhere you want, and not have to worry about working so hard. Your mom would want you to sell and enjoy yourself.”

  Anger flared inside her, blooming in her chest until her words sprang out of her like popcorn on a hot skillet. “What do you know that my mom wanted? She’s dead because of—”

  “Are you going to sell or not?” He interrupted, his fake smile sliding into a snarl.

  “I think I’ll stay here, Mr. Davis. Care for a cone to go?” she asked putting as much saccharine into her words as she could.

  He swallowed and stepped closer to the counter. “Maybe you don’t understand.” He kept his words low and strained and she worried the microphone wouldn’t pick them up. “Both of your neighbors have sold and are leaving. Without them here, your shop will fade into oblivion. In a few months’ time, you’ll be begging to sell this place and no one will want it.”

  She lifted her chin. “So you’ll offer more money if I sign right now, then?”

  His face colored red and he didn’t bother concealing his glare.

  “Say if I asked for a hundred and fifty thousand? Would you write me a check for that much today?”

  “If you sign, I will consider it.”

  “Oh? And how much did you offer my mom before you killed her?”

  He jerked, his mouth opening and closing rapidly. “You’re delusional.”

  “Come on, Mr. Davis.” She placed a hand on her hip and hoped he didn’t notice her legs shaking. “With my mom out of the way, you figured her daughter would be an easy sell. Grieving too much and not wanting to be around the memory of her mother and where she died, isn’t that right?”

  “Keep your voice down.” Mr. Davis glanced around, but Michael was gone.

  Where had he disappeared to?

  “Listen, you little bitch,” David took out a gun from his pocket and her heart jackhammered against her chest. “I had a feeling you were going to be just as stubborn as your mother. With no one alive owning the place, it’ll go to the state. I’ll pay my lawyers to get it one way or another.” He pointed the gun at her chest.

  Her whole body trembled. With her eyes wide open, the ice cream shop around her blurred. A vision of her mother arguing with Mr. Davis sprung forward. His rage was out of control as he rushed and grabbed her mom’s arm to keep her from walking away from him, and said something to her. Her mom slapped him and he shoved her. She stumbled backward, slamming her head into the glass display case and bleeding out.

  “Y-you killed her.”

  “And I’m going to do the same to you if you don’t shut up and sign the damn paper.”

  The look on his face said otherwise. It said he was going to kill her if she signed the paper or not. Her whole body trembled. Between them, the shop seemed to brighten while the edges darkened.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Listen, this doesn’t have to be painful.” Colt Davis kept the pistol locked on her, his gaze drilling holes into her face. “Sign the paper and we can forget this whole thing. You’re in college, so do the right thing.”

  Her legs shook. She clenched her fists, her anger surging through her. “Y-you think I’m going to do what for you? I’m not signing anything. Murderer!”

  “What?” He barked out a laugh. “You’re crazy.”

  Sweat trickled down her back while her whole body seemed to vibrate as fear and rage trampled her. “Why do you even want this place?” Her gaze didn’t leave the gun. Anytime now, Jarred.

  “Opportunity and money.” He smiled and a sick sensation rolled through her.

  That made no sense. Sure the ice cream shop was profitable, but only a small percentage was left after overhead and paying all the bills. And certainly not worth $120,000. “I don’t understand.” And she still needed him to admit he’d had something to do with her mom’s murder. Right now, all he’d admitted to was being a shrewd businessman.

  “Behind you is prime property.” He motioned with the gun. “I take over this strip mall, demolish it and build a high-rise. Location is everything. Here there’s access to schools, entertainment, everything.”

  “So? Move somewhere else. Across town.”

  He frowned. “I thought you were smart.”

  Stiffening, she took a step toward the ice cream scooper laying on the counter, out of his line of sight.

  “This town is booming. People are moving here all the time. Pricing for the property has gone up.” He held up a finger. “But if you get property from individuals who have paid off their lease, then it’s much cheaper.”

  Made sense. The ice cream shop was at the heart of town. There were plenty of businesses nearby who’d love to take this space over, she guessed. “How do I know you won’t kill me if I sign?”

  “You’re right.” He cocked the gun. “But if you don’t sign, then I’ll kill you anyway and forge your signature.”

  Had he planned to do that after her mom died, but then realized she was on the title too? “The bank won’t accept a false s—”

  “Yes, they will. You were under stress of your mom’s murder. I saw for myself how your hand shook. And it’ll be our word against your dead one.”

  Double damn. Our word? Was he in on this scam with someone else? She pretended to look at the document as her hand slid closer to the ice cream scoop. Yes, the paper had a line for a witness’ signature. Maybe he paid someone to sign as if they’d been present? She had to do something. Where was Jarred or Deputy Wells? Were they afraid to come out thinking that the guy might fire accidently if startled? At least Michael had left. She didn’t want him getting hurt or worse, witnessing her dying.

  He glanced around as if ensuring no one was around. Somehow she knew he was going to pull the trigger. Every second he delayed was the chance of someone coming into the shop. He turned back to her, a sneer on his face.

  “Farewell, Lily.”

  “Wait.” She took a side step, hoping he’d believe she was moving closer to the form rather than the metal ice cream scoop. “The cops will be here any minute.” In fact, they were feet away.

  He laughed. “Why? Do you have secret alarm button?”

  “No, something even better.” Think Lily, think. What could she say that would throw him off? The image of her mom slapping him floated before her. “We’ve security cameras. Installed them last month.”

  “Where?” He glanced up, nervously.

  “There’re made to look like sprinklers. The company’s new, so they took a while to find the footage of my mom’s murder.”

  “You lie.”

  “So what did you say to my mom that made her slap you?” He’d have to believe her lie about the cameras now. No way would he understand that she had seen what had happened in a vision.

  He snarled and dove over the counter for her. With all her might, she snatched the ice cream scooper and sent it flying, straight for his hand. He howled, but the gun exploded. The bullet slammed into her side and knocked her backwards.

  Behind her, she thought a large dog growled. She hit the tile hard, the force of it knocking the breath out of her. Her side ached like someone had played golf with a sledgehammer and her body was the ball.

  Davis rose, clutching his hand, his face red. “Stupid bitch!”

  The gun had slid several feet from them. If she didn’t get it, he’d finish what he’d started and kill he
r. She forced her body to rise. Damn, her ribs burned from the movement. Had she fractured them? Terror raked through her. Where the hell was Jarred or Wells?

  “Help me!” she shouted. She didn’t care if the deputies had enough evidence now or not. Her life was on the line and this guy was trying to kill her.

  Before she stood, Davis grabbed the gun and was turning toward her.

  “Drop it!” Jarred yelled coming from the supply room.

  Blood was smeared across his white dress shirt and there were bloody wounds down his arms. What the hell happened to him?

  “Might want to check with your supervisor, Wells, on that one.” Davis smiled.

  What was he talking about? Lily glanced back to Jarred.

  “I already have.” He nudged with his gun, pointed at Davis. “Now drop it. I won’t ask a third time.”

  Davis paled, then Michael came out from the supply room, his hair disheveled and blood coating the side of his mouth.

  “What the hell is going on?” She glanced from Michael to Jarred and back again, but they ignored her, keeping their attention on Davis. In order to keep from falling, she held onto the counter, her legs liquefying. God, she’d almost died. Right here. Right where her mom had been killed.

  “There are no security cameras. Wells would have told me and taken care of them.” Davis narrowed his eyes at Lily as if debating going ahead and shooting her anyway, no matter the consequences. “How did you know she slapped me?”

  Lily crossed her arms over her stomach, the movement sending a sharp pain to her side where the bullet had hit the vest and bruised her. No way would she tell him about her dreams and visions, they’d lock her up in a padded room. “Easy. You’re so obnoxious and my mom was so stubborn, I figured you’d said or done something that pissed her off. It was a gamble and it paid off.”