The door rattled against his weight but held. Thank goodness they still had the doorstop from the last time Tandy had forgotten to take her crumpets out of the oven and they’d had to ventilate the building. Because of it, she’d survived. Though she didn’t know if she could say the same for Randon.
Chapter Two
Tandy waved at Susan on the float designed to resemble one of Joseph Cross’s steamboats with two stories of white railing, two black smokestacks, and a giant red paddlewheel. It looked authentic, as did Susan’s costume from the turn of the century. Her pink hair? Not so much.
But Randon would appreciate her hairstyle, as he did everything about her. Why hadn’t he come outside to watch the parade if he knew his girlfriend was going to be in it?
Tandy glanced over her shoulder to see if he was even looking out the window. He wasn’t sitting at his table anymore. Where’d he go?
“Tandy!” Someone called her name, though it was hard to hear over the music that blared from the parade. First the marching band, then the calliope music piped through speakers on the float.
She looked up and down the sidewalk. No faces turned her way. Even Greg was busy, handing out the flyers they’d made for the shop. Maybe she’d imagined it.
Connor tapped her shoulder. “Here comes my float,” he yelled over the noise.
She nodded her acknowledgement of the green tractor that pulled a flatbed trailer. On the trailer sat a little red barn surrounded by bales of hay. The hay served as a fence to hold in actual farm animals.
He cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “Mom is taking the farm animals to the park to offer a petting zoo. I think that’s really why Marissa didn’t come out here. She’s afraid of the goats.”
Tandy nodded. She’d heard all about how the goats had eaten Marissa’s favorite polka dot Converse.
“Tandy!” There it was again.
She frowned and looked around. Everyone else seemed to be watching kids toss candy from a float advertising the local church’s Vacation Bible School. If she’d been watching, she would have been prepared for the piece that smacked her on the top of the head.
“Ow.” She rubbed at the sting. “One of those kids must be a little league pitcher.”
Connor squatted next to her then stood, holding Marissa’s red patent leather flip flops. “You didn’t get hit with candy. You got hit with one of these.”
Tandy blinked. How did the kids get her business partner’s shoes on their float? Hadn’t Marissa been wearing those earlier?
“Tandy!” There it was again.
She looked up. Marissa waved like a maniac from the roof. She must have thrown the shoes to get Tandy’s attention.
Tandy pointed Connor toward his fiancée. They both looked up to find Marissa motioning them toward the door of the shop. She was yelling something too, but a guy on the next float had a microphone on which he overrode her words with his recitation of the Declaration of Independence.
Tandy did her best to decipher. “It looks like Marissa wants us to watch the parade with her from the roof.”
“That would actually be a good spot.”
“And she’d be safer from farm animals.”
Connor waved at Marissa as he took steps toward the entrance. “Are you coming, Tandy, or are you going to stay down here with Greg?”
Greg stood halfway down the sidewalk, fanning himself with the flyers. His suit and fake beard had to be hot in this burning sunshine. “I’ll stay with—”
The door to the shop burst open. A man careened through, knocking Connor into her. Tandy grabbed a lamppost to stay upright, but Connor continued toward the ground, landing hard.
The guy in a white t-shirt shoved his way through the crowd. Such a jerk. And what had he even been doing in their shop? Did it have something to do with Marissa’s mime show?
Tandy frowned through the window and caught sight of Randon’s striped tank top crumpled on the floor with him in it. “Oh no.”
Connor jumped to his feet and charged after the guy.
At least Tandy knew Marissa was okay.
Greg made his way toward her, glancing over his shoulder at Connor bolting through the crowd. “What’s going on?”
Tandy’s heart shuddered. “Someone attacked Randon in the shop. Go find Sheriff Griffin. I’m going to check on Marissa.”
Greg whipped off his hat and beard, handing them to her along with the flyers before taking off down the street.
Tandy pushed through the door of her shop, leaving the festivities behind. She dropped everything in her hands onto a nearby table and grabbed the phone out of her back pocket to call for an ambulance. Randon lay as though lifeless, but she could see his belly rise and fall with every breath. He was alive.
The door to the roof clanked open in the loft above, and blinding light shone through. Marissa’s silhouette appeared in the opening. “Tandy get up here with your phone. I can see which way the bad guy is going from this vantage point. I can direct Griffin.”
Tandy jabbed at her phone and took the stairs two at a time.
Griffin answered in the middle of the first ring. “Tandy, Greg told me Randon was attacked in your shop. Are you okay?”
“Yes, but Randon’s not.” She raced through the door onto the roof and joined Marissa at the edge. With all the people below, she couldn’t tell who she was supposed to be looking for. All she’d seen on the street was the back of a white t-shirt, which was what most of the men down there were wearing. “I’m going to hand the phone to Marissa. We’re on the roof, and she can see which way Randon’s attacker is going.”
Hopefully Marissa got a better look at the guy.
Marissa scrambled for the phone, almost dropping it over the edge with her jitters. Her eyes stayed glued to the bald guy in the white shirt like she was playing the shell game. She couldn’t let him get away with it.
“He’s heading down the parade route. Fifth and Main Street.”
A siren blared through the noise below. Red lights flashed on the white motorcycle where Griffin had previously cut off traffic.
The cop’s voice sounded muffled, like he was speaking through an earpiece on his bike helmet. “Greg said Connor is chasing him. Is Connor still on him?”
Marissa watched as the perp darted across a corner and Connor kept going. Her heart skipped a beat with relief. As brave as Connor was, she didn’t want him taking down a gunman on his own. “No. The bad guy turned down Fifth.”
Griffin’s motorcycle joined the parade, zipping past floats. The sea of spectators parted for him. “Which way?”
“The same way the parade circles.” Though the parade had continued down to Fourth Street before turning, the gunman was still on the parade route, still surrounded by civilians. “Careful, he has a gun.”
Tandy gasped. “He has a gun?”
Marissa covered the mouthpiece. “Yes. That’s why I ran up here. Randon saved my life by dumping coffee on him.” She uncovered the mouthpiece to guide Griffin again. “He’s wearing a white shirt with coffee splashed on it. He’s bald with a big tattoo on his neck. Tan. Green eyes. A little smaller than Connor.”
Griffin’s motorcycle sped toward Fifth Street.
“Turn right, and you’ll see him. He’s at the end of the block.”
The man in white jogged to the corner, turned, and disappeared around a building and out of sight.
Griffin’s motorcycle turned down the open street. “I don’t see him, Marissa.”
Blood pumped through her veins like she was the one in hot pursuit. “I can’t see him now either. But you’re so close. Turn left on Park Place, and you’ll have him.”
The marching band led the parade through the intersection in front of Griffin. Even from this distance she could still feel the boom of the drums reverberate through her chest.
“What’s that? I can’t hear you.”
“You have him,” she yelled. “You have him.”
He had to. Before the gunman di
sappeared for good.
Griffin swung a leg off his motorcycle and charged downstream against the flow of the parade. Then he too vanished from view behind the wall of a building.
Tandy clutched her arm. “Does he have him?”
Griffin’s breath puffed loudly in her ear. She pictured him running after the bad guy, gun in hand, helmet still on his head.
“Do you have him?” she asked.
“I see a guy with a tattoo on his neck. But he’s not wearing a shirt.”
Marissa gritted her teeth. Had the gunman taken off his shirt, or had he gotten away? “What’s the tattoo look like?”
“It’s a dollar sign. No. Wait. It looks like a dollar sign, but with the letter B instead of an S.”
Marissa rose onto the tiptoes of her bare feet. “Is he bald?”
“Yes.”
“That’s him.” Because what were the chances another bald guy with such a tattoo was in their tiny town on the exact same street at the exact same time? The only neck tattoo she’d ever seen in town was the image of three crosses, and it belonged to the youth pastor.
“I’ll arrest him, but you’ll have to I.D. him.”
“Yes.” She wanted him behind bars.
“Stop. Grace Springs PD. You’re under arrest.”
Marissa pulled Tandy closer, gripping her arm in return.
“What? What’s happening?” Tandy asked.
Marissa blew out her breath, lowered the phone, and clicked it to speaker. They both listened to Griffin recite the Miranda warning.
She handed the phone back to its rightful owner, fingers still trembling. “At least he can’t hurt anyone else now.”
Tandy ended the call and stuffed the phone in her pocket. “Are you hurt?”
Marissa shook her head. “Did you see Randon when you came in? Is he…is he…?”
“He’s alive.”
Thank you, Jesus. She wasn’t the hipster’s biggest fan, and he’d probably done something shady to get himself into this situation, but he’d also risked his life to save hers. He wasn’t all bad.
More sirens blared. They looked down to see an ambulance pulling up like the grand finale to the parade. Connor or Greg must have called them.
Two EMTs climbed out, laden down with equipment. Passersby slowed to watch. A pink-haired southern belle emerged from the crowd, looking as confused as Marissa had felt. “Susan,” she said.
Tandy closed her eyes. “First her uncle, now this.”
“I better brew some tea.”
They made their way back inside, through the loft, down to the coffee bar. While the EMTs approached Randon swiftly and efficiently, Susan gasped upon entry. She flung herself on Randon’s unconscious body, her full skirt puffing around her. Sobs racked her torso and the big floppy hat on her head fell to the floor.
Marissa swallowed the lump in her throat that formed when she pictured herself in Susan’s shoes. Had that been Connor lying on the ground, she’d be a mess.
One of the EMTs pulled Susan away so they could continue checking Randon’s vitals. Tandy took the man’s place, an arm around Susan’s shoulder.
“Oh, honey.” Marissa poured steaming water from the kettle over an infuser of chamomile then crossed the room to offer it to the grieving girlfriend. “It could have been so much worse. Randon could have been shot.”
“Shot?” Susan acted like she didn’t even see the tea offered, which was surprising with how wide her eyes had gotten.
Tandy pressed her lips together and tilted her head. “I don’t think you’re helping, Marissa.”
Marissa put herself in Susan’s shoes again. Yeah, telling her that the man she loved had almost been shot might not come across as soothing. “Oh, he was so brave. When the bad guy realized I was here, he turned the gun on me. Randon splashed him with coffee so I could get away.”
More tears rained from Susan’s dark eyes. “He sacrificed his life for yours?”
“No.” Tandy stepped in. “Randon is going to live. He’s in good hands now.”
Ah…those would probably have been the right words to say.
More EMTs rolled in a gurney.
Susan pressed the back of a hand to her mouth to hold in the sobs.
The EMT who’d held her earlier stood to face them. “He’s stable, but he’s not responding. We’re going to get him to the hospital where they can better treat him. Would you like a ride, miss?”
Susan nodded but stayed in place as if afraid of what the hospital might hold.
Marissa set the tea down so she could take her hand. She passed the poor girl off to the emergency workers. “Don’t worry. Sheriff Griffin arrested the guy who did this, and I’m going to ID him. He’s going to jail for a long, long time.”
Susan broke down again, and the EMT had to put an arm around her to usher her out.
Tandy shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”
“I don’t have to. I was there.” Marissa picked up the cup of chamomile she’d offered Susan and sipped for herself. Her insides were still too jittery to think straight, and the soothing liquid might help calm her nerves.
Connor pushed through the door, Marissa’s red flip flops in his hands. He didn’t even take time to let them go before wrapping her in his arms. It was a good thing she’d finished the tea already, otherwise the perp wouldn’t be the only one with caffeine on his clothing.
“I shouldn’t have left you in here alone with the door unlocked.”
She hugged him back, appreciating his protective side. “I’m okay now.”
He gripped her shoulders along with her shoes that he must have picked up outside and held her at arm’s length. He studied her with a flicker of fear in his gray eyes. “But what if something had happened to you?”
The bell over the door rang, announcing Greg’s return. “What did happen?”
That was a question she had an answer for. “The gunman wanted a file from Randon. Randon said no and closed his computer.”
She pointed to Randon’s table as evidence. Except there was no computer. Maybe it was a different table.
Marissa scanned the surrounding tables. All empty.
Greg looked with her. “There’s no computer.”
Her heart dropped. “The gunman must have taken it with him. Griffin will have seized it in the arrest.”
The bell over the door rang again. Griffin stepped inside and crossed his arms. “I caught a guy, but I’m not sure it’s the right guy.”
Marissa took her shoes from Connor, dropped them to the floor, and slid her toes through the slots. She needed to find firm footing to have this conversation. “He has the tattoo with the B and the lines running through it?”
Greg stroked his chin as if he was still wearing the Abe Lincoln beard. “A bitcoin tattoo?” Whatever that meant.
“Yes.” Griffin nodded. “I’d thought that’s what that was.”
Connor leaned toward her ear to answer her question before she even asked. “A bitcoin is cyber money that’s transacted online. It’s how hackers are paid off for returning information they stole through viruses.”
“Oh…” The guy had to be involved with Randon then. “If he had the tattoo, then why don’t you think he’s the right guy?”
“No evidence.” Griffin huffed. “No shirt. No gun.”
“No laptop?” asked Tandy.
Griffin lowered his eyebrows. “No laptop.”
Connor put an arm around Marissa’s shoulders. “Then who is he? And why is he here? I’ve never seen a guy with a tattoo like that in town before.”
Griffin rubbed a hand over his head. “He’s Cash Hudson, a former Marine come to town for the pancake breakfast to honor veterans.”
Tandy arched an eyebrow at her boyfriend.
Greg grimaced. “Then he probably owns guns even if he didn’t have one on him when you caught him.”
“We’ll be scouring the area, but if we don’t find anything…” Griffin shrugged.
Marissa cringed. “Then t
here’s nothing to go on but my word that he’s the one who attacked Randon.”
Chapter Three
After giving her statement, Marissa left the shop with Sheriff Griffin so she could go to the police department and identify Cash Hudson. As small as their town was, Griffin served as both sheriff and police chief. It wasn’t long ago that he’d been a fresh-faced deputy who she still remembered as the little boy she used to babysit, but with all the crime that had recently come to their community, he’d been forced to mature beyond his years.
Unfortunately, Marissa still didn’t feel completely safe having him protect her as she faced the guy who’d tried to kill her. If only Tandy hadn’t had to stay at the shop and Connor hadn’t had to go help his mom with the shoe-chewing farm animals.
“Cash won’t be able to see me, will he?” she asked. Would he recognize her if he did? She’d been running with her back to him. All he’d likely recognize was her long, blonde hair. If not for her upcoming wedding, she’d be tempted to chop it off as a disguise.
“No. He’ll be on the mirrored side of a one-way mirror.”
Marissa bit her lip. Had Randon said her name in front of him at the coffee shop? “Will he know my name? Will it be in the newspaper or anything?”
Griffin parked in front of the two-story brick building and opened the door for her like a limo driver. “I don’t know if it will be reported, but since you are the blonde owner of Caffeine Conundrum, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out.”
Chills shivered down Marissa’s spine despite the embrace of warm sunshine as she stepped onto the sidewalk. “If you caught the right guy and I identify him, he’ll stay in jail until his trial, right?”
“I doubt Judge McMinn would grant bail with one of his alleged victims in the hospital.”
That was comforting, at least. “Here’s hoping you caught the right guy.”
“I caught the guy you told me to.” Griffin led her inside the musty scented building and had her wait by Kristin at the front desk while he checked in with his new deputy.
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