Andy kissed her temple. “You must be terrified.”
“Not really. Wary is more like it. Miles said the DEA would likely send in undercover and surveillance teams. The bad part is that I was instructed not to tell anybody.”
“I’m glad you told me. You can’t carry a burden like this alone.”
“I hate it. I feel so helpless right now. I want to protect my vendors and our customers. I want to warn people like Rose and Vance. But Miles says it would be more dangerous for them to know.”
“He’s right. It would be particularly dangerous—to you and to everyone else—if the drug trafficker found out.”
“I know.”
Andy squeezed her shoulder again, and Katie closed her eyes. Right now, she felt safe and secure—a wonderful, if possibly fleeting, feeling.
“Maybe we can get away for a couple of days,” he said. “Not a weekend—those are too hectic to throw on Erikka by herself just yet—but maybe an overnight trip in the middle of next week . . . somewhere fun and romantic. How does that sound?”
Katie looked into his big brown eyes and smiled. “Perfect.”
* * *
—
After Andy went back to work, Katie decided to clean her apartment. Housework was an excellent—and productive—way to dispel nervous energy. She gave the tchotchkes in the bedroom a thorough dusting, washed the windows, flipped the mattress, changed the bed linens, and alphabetized the stack of books on her nightstand.
Mason and Della watched all this activity with mild interest. However, when the vacuum cleaner came out of the closet, they both bolted under the bed.
Katie finished the job as quickly as possible in order to ease the cats’ anxiety. When she turned off the machine, she heard the doorbell ring. She rolled the vacuum cleaner into the living room with her and then left it before going to the kitchen and looking through the peephole.
“It’s me,” came Ray’s gruff voice. “Let me in.”
She opened the door. As soon as Ray was inside, she relocked it.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a shade softer than it had been when he was standing on her stoop.
“Sure. I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m well,” he said. “I’m here to borrow a key to Artisans Alley. Miles spoke with someone at the DEA, and they want to set up surveillance ASAP.”
“And why did they call you instead of me?” she demanded. “Whose idea was that?”
“I volunteered.”
“Let me make sure I’ve got this right.” Katie anchored her hands to her hips. “Last night after telling me that you can handle your situation by yourself, you’re here trying to insinuate yourself into my situation? Well, guess what? You aren’t a law enforcement officer anymore. Tell your friends to call me if they want access to my property.”
“Look, as a detective, I can—”
“Former detective,” Katie interrupted. “We’re both adults who can take care of ourselves, right?”
Ray’s mouth tightened into a thin, hard line. After a long moment, during which he lost the staring contest between them, he said, “I was only trying to help.”
“I know the feeling. But you were quite clear when you said you didn’t need my help. That works both ways,” she said, keeping her voice level. “Please make sure you lock the door when you leave.”
Katie walked back into the living room and turned on the vacuum cleaner to drown out anything else he might have to say.
Twenty-Seven
That night, vague, disorienting dreams haunted Katie’s sleep. She awoke several times and cursed the fact that the one window in her bedroom faced the north end of Artisans Alley. She wouldn’t see the lights of cars cutting through Victoria Square’s main parking lot should the traffickers be counting on stealth. Then again, the Alley’s security system was set. Whoever was dealing drugs out of the Alley was doing it during regular business hours. That thought wasn’t of comfort, either.
She was up early, and Katie started off her day at the tea shop. It bothered her that she was still stinging from her argument with Ray the afternoon before, and she was determined that no one was going to get anything over on her. This morning, she intended to find out the exact nature of Brad’s relationship with Paul Fenton. If that meant she had to fire Brad and work at Tealicious herself until she found a replacement, so be it.
When she entered the shop’s kitchen, Brad was mixing up a crab salad. They exchanged greetings, and Katie tied an apron around her waist.
She pulled a clean mixing bowl from one of the shelves. “I thought I’d make some gluten-free chocolate chip cookies. Some of our patrons have been asking for more variety.”
“Good idea. Sounds delicious.”
“Thanks.” She took out the appropriate flour and measured it into the bowl. “Um, Brad, we need to talk.”
Brad let out a breath. “I’m listening.”
“I need to be sure you’re here on Victoria Square because you really want to work at this tiny tea shop and not because of . . . something else.”
His gaze narrowed. “That’s an odd thing to say. If I didn’t want to work at Tealicious, I wouldn’t be here.”
It was time to show her cards. “Look, I realize you and Paul Fenton are friends, but he and I have had more than one unpleasant encounter,” Katie said. “Frankly, I suspect that Paul is involved in some unsavory—if not illegal—activities.”
Brad stepped closer to Katie. “And you think I am, too? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No. You’re doing a wonderful job here, and you’ve been a tremendous asset to Tealicious.” She put down the measuring cup she held and turned to look Brad in the eye. “But if I find out you’re using drugs or—”
“Stop,” he interrupted, his voice hardening. “I’m not using drugs, and I’m not drinking.” He removed his chef coat. Underneath it, he wore a sleeveless white T-shirt pulled taut against his muscular chest.
Katie gulped and tried not to stare, as she wondered what on earth he was doing.
He held out his forearm. On it, in harsh magenta ink, was displayed the name Julia in a free-flowing font.
Ah . . . the ex-girlfriend.
“I should’ve told you the truth about Paul from the beginning,” Brad said. “I’ve asked him to transform this tattoo. When Regan came to Tealicious yesterday, she brought me Paul’s initial sketches.” He lowered his eyes. “I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed.”
“Why? We all have our regrets. Do you mind showing me the sketches?”
He shook his head. “That’s not necessary. I didn’t realize you had such a turbulent history with Paul. I can find someone else.”
Feeling rather foolish for even bringing up the subject, Katie considered this. She didn’t want to be unfair to Brad. “From what little I’ve seen, Paul appears to be an excellent tattoo artist. If you believe he can do the job for you, by all means, have him do it.”
“Are you sure?” he asked softly.
“Positive.” Somehow, she managed a smile. “And I would like to see the sketches if you don’t mind. I’m interested to discover what Paul can turn a name into.”
“They’re impressive.” Brad slipped his chef’s coat back on. “And I’d love another opinion. Don and Nick are divided.”
“Always,” she said with a laugh. “I’m sorry if I offended you by asking about your relationship with Paul. Sometimes I simply can’t believe my good luck that you’re here. I wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize that.”
Katie felt the heat of a blush rise. Oh yeah? Then why did you practically accuse him of falling off the wagon?
“I’m happy to be here,” Brad said with sincerity.
They stared at each other for long seconds. Katie was the first to look away. “I’d better get the rest of the ingredients for those cookies. Th
ey aren’t going to bake by themselves.”
* * *
—
Katie was in her office at Artisans Alley looking over the upcoming month’s budget when she got a call from Miles Patterson.
“Good morning, Katie. I apologize for communicating with Ray instead of you last night. Since it was Ray who initially contacted me, it seemed only natural to convey my comrades’ strategic maneuvers to you through him. I didn’t mean to step on any toes.”
“Thanks,” Katie said. “It’s just that this entire ordeal has me on edge.”
“I can imagine. I’ll be in later to accept the vendor booth and get it set up. Two of my former DEA colleagues—they’re still active agents—will accompany me as my sister and brother-in-law. We’re in the process of rounding up some pottery I can sell.”
“All right. That sounds good.” Katie hoped Miles didn’t catch the tremor in her voice.
“We’ll be there shortly after lunch. I’d like for you to give Beth and Cal—that’s the names they’ll be using—the grand tour. During that time, they’ll be unobtrusively placing their surveillance equipment throughout Artisans Alley.”
“Then what?”
“After that, it’s just a waiting game,” Miles said. “But, hopefully, we’ll catch your drug dealer pretty soon.”
Katie was silent.
“Are you up for this, Katie?”
“Y-yes.” Then stronger, “Yes, I am.”
“Good. Now, remember, to everyone else at Artisans Alley, I’m just another vendor.”
“Right. Just another vendor.”
“See you later,” he said and laughed at his own joke.
Katie smiled as she hung up and hoped the supposed blind man would fool everyone—especially the traffickers.
Feeling restless, Katie left her office to get a cup of coffee in the vendors’ lounge. She came back, grabbed a peppermint, popped it into her mouth, and bit it in two. She could do this. She’d handled worse. She could pretend that Miles was simply a normal guy who wasn’t pretending to be blind so he could have his drug dog in tow. She could go along with Beth and Cal being Miles’s family rather than DEA agents. She could even act as if there weren’t bags of drugs stashed in a hole in the wall behind one of Chad’s paintings.
She closed her eyes. Once this fiasco was over, she’d deserve an Academy Award—Best Actress in a Supporting Role.
Katie opened her eyes, took a bracing sip of her coffee, and decided to call Nick. Talking with him should be a good distraction, and afterward, she could get back to the budget.
“Hey, there, Katie!” Nick answered.
“You’re way too bright and cheery for a Tuesday morning.”
He laughed. “As my aunt Sally used to say, I’ve got the world by the tail on a downhill pull. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and I’ve got a key lime pie in the oven.”
“Key lime pies bake for only about ten minutes, right?”
He laughed. “Right. So, talk fast, sweetheart.”
“I wanted to call and let you know that I spoke with Brad this morning. He confessed about the tattoo cover-up.”
Nick blew out a breath. “Thank goodness! Do you know how hard it’s been to keep that secret from you? Don and I hated it, but we’d promised not to tell.”
“Brad shouldn’t feel so embarrassed about his tattoo,” Katie said. “I’m sure that when he got it, he thought he and Julia would be together forever.”
“That’s true. We all have our follies.”
“I told Brad I’d like to see the sketches Regan brought. I’m curious to see how Paul can turn a name into something more decorative.”
“My favorite is a feather,” Nick said. “Not only is it beautiful, but it symbolizes that Brad has flown away from that toxic relationship to a better life.”
“Ever the poet.” Katie chuckled. “Brad said you and Don have a difference of opinion on how he should cover the tattoo.”
Nick emitted a low growl. “Don prefers a cobra. It’s huge and fierce-looking, and I’m not a fan.”
“Brad is such a sweetheart that he offered to go to someone else when I told him that Paul and I have had words. I told him to stick with Paul.”
“I’m glad Brad finally confided in you. He’s a great guy.”
Katie could hear a buzzer on the other end of the line.
“Pie’s done, sweetie,” Nick said. “I’ll talk with you later.”
“Save a slice for me.”
As Katie hung up the phone, someone tapped on her door before opening it a crack and poking a white handkerchief tied to a carpenter’s pencil into her office.
“Come in,” she said.
She wasn’t surprised to find that Ray was the bearer of the white flag.
“I surrender,” he said. “Sorry about yesterday.”
“Me, too. Come on in and have a seat.”
Ray untied the handkerchief and stuffed it and the pencil into his shirt pocket before he sat on the chair beside her desk. He looked at Katie expectantly.
“Miles phoned earlier,” she said. “He’ll be in a little later today to set up his booth. He said his sister and brother-in-law would be in to help him arrange everything.”
“Super. I know . . .” He chose his words carefully, probably in case anyone was listening. “. . . having a vendor like Miles might be tough at first, but I believe he’ll be a great asset to Artisans Alley.”
“I completely agree with you.”
“If you guys need my help in getting Miles settled in, let me know.”
Katie nodded. “All right.”
Ray leaned closer and lowered his voice. “If you need me, you know where I’m at.”
“Likewise.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “I appreciate that. I really do.”
For the second time that morning, Katie stared at a man, feeling uncomfortable. This time, it wasn’t she who looked away and then retreated.
* * *
—
A blast of chilled air greeted Katie as she entered the diner, spotted Andy, and then headed down the aisle. She slid into the booth across from the pizza man and took both his hands in hers.
Sandy—Del’s best waitress—winked. “Somebody sure is happy to see you,” she told Andy.
“I have that effect on her,” he said with a grin. “Would you bring me a burger with everything on it and a side of fries?”
“Will do. Katie, what are you having?”
Katie ordered a chef’s salad.
As soon as Sandy was out of earshot, Andy squeezed Katie’s hands. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing . . . really. I’m just nervous. Our newest vendor is moving in after lunch. In fact, he should be there when I get back to Artisans Alley.”
Andy nodded. “I realize you’re nervous because Miles is blind. But don’t worry, Sunshine. The man knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t have rented the booth otherwise.”
“I know, Andy. I’m just eager for . . . for him to settle in. That’s all.”
“You’ll do great.”
She was also ready to avoid speaking in code.
Katie caught a movement from the corner of her eye and turned to see Fiona Lancaster approach their table. “Fiona! What a nice surprise.” It really wasn’t, and Katie hoped Fiona couldn’t tell how desperately she wanted the woman to leave so that she and Andy could dine in peace.
“I’m so glad I caught you,” Fiona said. “I spoke with Rose, and she told me you were here. I’d like to run some ideas for the Tealicious apartment by you.”
“That would be wonderful.” The scent of Fiona’s oppressive perfume instantly caused Katie’s eyes to water. Without thinking, she dabbed at them with her napkin. “Unfortunately, I need to eat fast and get back to Artisans Alley. We’ve got a new vendor comi
ng in today who needs special consideration. I’d be glad to come over to Sassy Sally’s and talk with you as soon as I help him get situated.”
“A new vendor . . . Would that be the blind man I met yesterday?”
“Yes. Miles, the potter.” Katie smiled.
“Couldn’t someone else help him?” Fiona asked. “After all, I’m only here until tomorrow.”
Katie’s smile faded. “Miles only called this morning to accept the vendor booth, and I neglected to mention it to Vance. I assure you, I’ll come to Sassy Sally’s as soon as I’m free.”
“Of course.” Fiona shrugged. “You’ll both have to overlook my rudeness. I’m merely a silly old woman begging for attention.”
“Nonsense,” Katie said, having noted the edge to Fiona’s self-deprecating words. “I look forward to hearing your ideas.”
“See you later, then.” With a little wave that encompassed them both, Fiona swept out of the diner.
“You handled that better than I would have,” Andy said and coughed. “And I don’t recall Fiona’s perfume being that strong when I met her at Sassy Sally’s.”
“It wasn’t. This scent must be new.” In fact, the cloying aroma of lilacs still hung heavily in the air even after the woman had walked away, threatening to choke her. “Promise me something.”
He grinned. “Anything.”
“After you get off work tonight, let’s have a nice, quiet, relaxing night—free of drama.”
“You’ve got it, Sunshine.”
Sandy arrived with their lunches and Katie was happy to turn the conversation to more mundane topics. And she was glad she’d ordered the smaller salad, wondering if she might have a chance at a slice of Nick’s key lime pie later that afternoon when meeting with Fiona.
Twenty-Eight
Half an hour later, Katie arrived at Artisans Alley to find Miles, Grimm, Vance, and an attractive brunette woman waiting for her in the vendors’ lounge.
Murder Ink Page 25
