The Devil Drinks Coffee

by Destiny Ford

  “Thanks,” I answered. “Have the police talked to Piper yet? Do they know what happened to Chelsea’s baby?”

  Spence gave me a blank look, but Drake knew the answer. “Piper said she knew about the baby safe haven laws and dropped the little girl off at a hospital out of town. Apparently Julia Bradford already had a private investigator trying to find her missing grandchild. The P.I. is working with the police to find out where the baby was placed.”

  I shook my head. “The whole story is so screwed up.”

  “At least Piper had enough sense not to harm the baby,” Spence said.

  “And what about Shawn? He’ll be all right?” I asked. I knew Shawn was being treated in the other ambulance.

  “His wound is worse than yours and he’ll have to get stitches, but yeah, he’ll be fine,” Drake said. “You and Shawn both heard Piper admit to everything that happened when she explained it all to Shawn. Piper will probably be charged with attempted murder for what she did to Shawn—and you. Since Chelsea ultimately died because Piper put her in the lake and she drowned, Piper will probably be charged with second degree murder or manslaughter for Chelsea’s death. She’s eighteen and will be tried as an adult, but I’m sure her lawyer will advise her to take a plea bargain and get the charges down.”

  I heard the sound of more cars coming down the Emerald Lake road. I figured all the people with scanners in town were finally hearing the news and coming to check out what had happened.

  But instead of curious townspeople, a pair of black SUVs with black tinted windows and chrome trim pulled into the parking area. Several men dressed in black suits got out of the cars. I saw Hawke walk up and talk to one of the men. The man opened the door and said something to the passengers of the car before pointing to the ambulance where Shawn Wallace was being treated. Immediately, Tish Wallace, the governor’s wife, jumped out of the car and went running to the ambulance.

  The door on the other side of the SUV opened and Governor Wallace stepped out of the car. He smiled when he saw Hawke, giving him a handshake that was so solid I could see it from where I stood. Hawke said a few words to the governor. The men in black suits moved back as Hawke and Governor Wallace walked several paces away to talk privately. In that moment, it became clear who had hired Hawke.

  I glanced at Spence, who was watching Hawke and the governor with a curious expression, and Drake, who seemed to be clenching his jaw. I still didn’t understand the bad blood between him and Hawke.

  After a few moments, Spence turned to me. “I think we should get you home. I’ll drive you.”

  I nodded in agreement, glad the night was over and I could get some rest. “Thanks for your help, Drake,” I said. He nodded in return. “And we’ll discuss the tracker later.” He gave me a tight smile as I turned to follow Spence.

  As we passed the black SUVs, I looked in Hawke’s direction. He glanced up and for a moment, he met my eyes with a steady stare. I knew with that one look he was checking to make sure I was okay. I smiled at him in acknowledgment and Hawke turned his attention back to Governor Wallace.

  The day after the shooting I wrote a front page article for the newspaper. For the first time in Branson Tribune history, we put out a special issue detailing Chelsea’s murder, Piper’s involvement, and the post-fireworks events at the lake.

  Now, I was relaxing at home, about to pour a bowl of Crunch Berries and start picking out barrels when I heard the doorbell ring. I wandered into the living room to open the door. Spence was on the other side. He handed me a box of doughnuts from the bakery. An orgasm couldn’t have made me happier.

  I was trying to do what Annie told me and rest, so I hadn’t been out of the house for a couple of days, but plenty of people had called, stopped by, and texted—including Drake. He hadn’t brought me doughnuts though, and he’d come in his Hummer claiming he’d saved me because of the tracker on my Jeep. Yelling followed. Drake didn’t get to stay long. My parents stopped by a few times, and my mom had made me a special batch of don’t-you-dare-get-shot-at-again sugar cookies.

  I motioned for Spence to come in and he followed me to the kitchen. I grabbed two plates and poured two glasses of milk.

  “You haven’t even been the editor for two months and you’re already famous,” Spence said, sitting at the table.

  I laughed as I sat across from him. “Don’t you think that’s going a little far?”

  “Your story was picked up by the Utah media and the Associated Press,” he said. “You should be proud of that.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I said, grabbing a glazed doughnut covered in chocolate frosting, and nuts. “I had a lot of people helping me figure out what happened; I didn’t do it on my own.”

  “Without your hunch to investigate Chelsea’s disappearance and death, no one ever would have known and Shawn Wallace would probably be dead too,” he said, taking a bite out of a caramel flavored cake doughnut with cream cheese frosting. “Give yourself some credit.”

  “So did you come over just to flatter me?”

  “No, I wanted to stop by and give you some other information I thought you might be interested in.”

  “About Chelsea’s murder?” I asked, picking up a peanut that had fallen on my plate and popping it in my mouth.

  Spence nodded. “Your hunch about Shawn Wallace wasn’t completely off. Piper said he had threatened Chelsea when she told him she didn’t want to give the baby up for adoption. I doubt he would have done anything to hurt her or the baby; he just didn’t want his dad finding out about the pregnancy, or the fact that he was about to be governor grandpa.”

  “Drake mentioned the governor has a temper,” I said.

  “But the governor already knew about it, as well as Chelsea running away. He hired Hawke to find Chelsea. When she died, he told Hawke to investigate and see if Shawn was involved in her death.”

  When I saw them talking at the lake, I knew Hawke had been working for the governor, I just hadn’t figured out the details. I nodded realizing why the governor had wanted Hawke’s help. “Governor Wallace wanted to know about Shawn’s involvement so he could get his son out of the situation if he was at fault.”

  Spence shook his head. “No, so he could make sure Shawn was held accountable if he was involved.”

  I wrinkled my brow trying to make sense of that. Usually the privileged get away with anything they want. I was shocked the governor was going to make Shawn take responsibility for his actions. “That’s surprising,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “So Hawke knew Shawn was Chelsea’s boyfriend all along and didn’t tell me.”

  “He probably didn’t want you to figure out Governor Wallace was his client. Plus, he seemed to be using you to help him get information he couldn’t get on his own.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He knew about Shawn, but he didn’t have the connections in Branson to find out what happened to Chelsea. You did. So he let you do the digging and gave you information when you needed it, but ultimately he was counting on your investigation to help him figure out if Shawn was involved in her death. He got the name of Julia’s private investigator when you both went to speak with her. Hawke was working with the investigator to try and figure out where Chelsea’s baby was.”

  I nodded as I thought about it. I knew Hawke had been using me. The fact was, we’d both been using each other for one thing or another. At least we’d both gotten information out of it.

  “And I have some other news for you too,” Spence said.

  I finished off my doughnut. “What?”

  “I know who left you the note made from magazine letters, and egged and creamed your Jeep.”

  I gasped a little. “Who?”

  Spence smiled. “A disgruntled ex-girlfriend.”

  “What?”

  “It was Amber Kane.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I yelled, slapping my hand on the table. “Now I have another reason to break her stupid nose!”

  Spence laughed. “She used to d
ate Drake. After her divorce, she thought she might have a chance with him again—until he became so captivated by you.”

  “So the note to stay away was telling me to stay away from Drake, not the Bradford story?”

  “Yep. She admitted everything when Drake went to talk to her about how she treated you after the fireworks were over. She seems pretty crazy if you ask me.”

  “It would have helped if she’d been clearer in her note about what I should stay away from.” I took a drink of my milk. “All The Ladies are a little nuts—except for Ella.”

  “I know,” Spence said, “but it might not be a bad idea to stay off Amber’s radar for a while.”

  I shrugged. “I doubt it will matter. She hates me. And the feeling is mutual.”

  Spence got up from the table, grabbing his keys. “Take as much time as you need before you come back to the office, but I miss having you around.”

  I smiled, following him to the door. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “Anytime. If you need me, just call.”

  I nodded, closing the door behind him.

  I went to the kitchen and looked over the doughnut selection to find my next victim. I’d been shot. I deserved it. I reached down to get a thickly frosted maple bar when I heard the doorbell again.

  Spence must have forgotten something. I went back to the living room and opened the door to find a teenage boy holding a vase the size of a toddler with at least two dozen fuchsia roses blooming beautifully.

  “Are you Kate Saxee?”

  “Yes.”

  The vase was so large he had to put it on the ground while he fumbled for his clipboard. “Sign here.”

  I signed and he put the board down on the porch. He struggled to pick the heavy vase up again. I would have helped him, but I was afraid my arm would protest. As it was, I didn’t know how I’d carry them into the house.

  “I’m supposed to bring the flowers inside and put them on your table.”

  “Great!” Problem solved. I motioned him into the house. I moved the doughnuts out of his way and he put the flowers in the center of the table. “Thanks,” I said. I gave him a five dollar tip and followed him to the front door. He stopped to pick the clipboard up off the porch before he got in his van and drove away.

  I shut the door, taking a deep breath. The flowers had been in the kitchen less than a minute and the house already smelled like it had been transported to the middle of a summer garden. I picked up my maple doughnut and took a bite as I gazed at the beautiful blooms and flawless arrangement. After a few minutes of just appreciating their beauty, I decided to find out who had sent them.

  I put my doughnut down, daintily sifting through the petals until I found a white envelope. It wasn’t sealed. I lifted the flap and pulled out a piece of cream colored cardstock with a silver foil border. As I read the card, I had to remind myself not to pass out. I set the card on the table, writing side up, and ate the rest of my doughnut with a combination of excitement and terror while I thought about the words on the card. I looked down and read it again.

  Shooting lessons, Friday night at five o’clock. And this time, Kitty Kate, I’m getting what I want.

  This book would not have happened without so many wonderful people in my life.

  * * *

  Thank you to my incredible cover designer, Kat Tallon, and my amazing book designer, Ali Cross. I’m lucky to work with such talented people. Huge thanks to Dr. Ashley Argyle, my best friend, fabulous editor, and T.E.G. You changed my life when you told me what I should be writing. And thank the goddesses you caught the paws!!! To Dan, who is unbelievably supportive. I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have you by my side. Thank you for the crisis cupcakes . . . again, and for always making me laugh.

  * * *

  To my mom—Wonder Woman. Thank you for fostering my love of mysteries as a kid by letting me stay up way past my bedtime to watch Simon and Simon, and re-runs of Perry Mason. And thank you for letting me embrace your Natastrophe side and make it my own. To my dad, for contributing the Cheetos. Also, to my dad, brother, and sister for calling to report my mom’s adventures after she stopped telling me stories because they were all going in my idea file. Thanks to Tash, whose skills are being seriously underused by the revolving door testing industry. And a big thanks to Tammy for the fur pants.

  * * *

  Thank you to my beta readers: Heather, Shelly, Rachelle, Natalie, Autumn, Ashley, and Dan. To Angee, for letting me steal her awesome last name. Michelle Witte for all of the advice. Jennifer Miller for being a great cheerleader! Jean Booknerd for being a wonderful friend, and for promoting my books like crazy! And to all of my awesome readers who I truly count as friends—thank you for your tweets, Facebook messages, emails, and letters. You have no idea how much they brighten my day, or how much I appreciate you and your support!

  Kate Saxee Mystery Series

  The Devil Drinks Coffee

  The Devil Wears Tank Tops

  The Devil Has Tattoos

  Devilishly Short #1

  Devilishly Short #2 (Coming Soon)

  * * *

  Tempting Series

  Tempting Sydney

  Chasing Brynn

  Convincing Courtney (Coming Soon)

  * * *

  A Dude Reads Romance Series

  A Dude Reads Romance-Tempting Sydney

  A Dude Reads Romance-Chasing Brynn

  * * *

  Hollywood Crush Series

  A-List

  * * *

  Fractured Fairy Tale Series

  Withering Woods

  Scattered Cinders

  * * *

  Emblem of Eternity Trilogy

  Eternal Starling

  Eternal Echoes

  * * *

  For special sneak peeks, giveaways, and super secret news, join Angela’s newsletter!

  If you enjoyed reading The Devil Drinks Coffee, please help others enjoy this book too by recommending it, and reviewing it on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Google Play, iBooks, or Goodreads. If you do write a review, please send me a message through my website so I can thank you personally! www.angelacorbett.com

  xoxo,

  Ang

  * * *

  Angela Corbett graduated from Westminster College and previously worked as a journalist, freelance writer, and director of communications and marketing. She lives in Utah with her extremely supportive husband, and loves classic cars, traveling, and chasing their pomeranian, Pippin—who is just as mischievous as his hobbit namesake, and his pugtzu cohort, S’more. She’s the author of Young Adult, New Adult, and Adult fiction—with lots of kissing. She writes under two names, Angela Corbett, and Destiny Ford.

  * * *

  You can find her here:

  www.angelacorbett.com

  @AngCorbett