A Latte Difficulty

by Angela Ruth Strong

  “No.” Tandy grimaced and pushed past. “I did.”

  Troy followed her out. “Well, I’m glad everyone’s okay. Is Marissa sick?”

  He hadn’t heard? “She’s staying in a safehouse until after she testifies against Cash Hudson.”

  Troy’s laugh lines faded as his expression turned dim. “My wife will be glad to hear that.”

  Tandy blinked. “What?”

  Troy waved Tandy’s confusion away. “She’ll be glad to know Marissa wasn’t here during this call. She knows we used to date, and she has some jealousy issues.”

  “Oh,” Tandy said. Though if Marissa had been there, the firemen never would have been called. She continued past him into the brick alley so his men could make sure the fire was completely out.

  Eventually her feet began to throb, so she sat on a stack of wooden pallets Marissa had been saving for a decorative project. Zam joined her since they had nothing else to do.

  She bit her lip.

  Zam looked at her like he expected her to say something.

  What she had to say, she wasn’t worried about saying to the guy who just saved her shop from burning down. “I know Marissa has reason to fear for her life right now, but I’m afraid to email her about this.”

  Zam’s face pinched together as if to say she had reason to worry. “Then tell her God provided time for you to go taste test cakes for her wedding.” His eyebrows arched like the top of a light bulb that just flashed on in his brain. “My baker friend who made the cupcakes is looking for new business. I bet she could see you today.”

  It wasn’t a bad idea, but Tandy couldn’t keep from sulking. “I bet she’s never started a fire when baking cake pops.”

  “You’re an original.”

  Talk about spinning the truth. But it was very kind of Zam to try to cheer her up. “If you can set up the cake tasting, I’ll see if Connor’s free.”

  She sent a text to Connor then stared at her phone. She should write her business partner now. “Marissa freaked out when I told her about the black bridesmaid dress. When I tell her we have to get the oven cleaned and repaired she’s going to suspect me of being the one out to destroy her life. Maybe I won’t tell her.”

  Zam turned sideways on the pallet so he could face her and read her lips better. “When we met, you mentioned that you are also a Christian. Doesn’t the Bible say something about lying?”

  Tandy guffawed. A sermon was the last thing she expected to come from the mouth of this former bartender. “I know Marissa will find out eventually. I simply don’t want to add to her stress right now. And, you know, I’m a little scared of how she’s going to react.”

  He pressed his mouth closed. “Hmm.”

  Tandy narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, ‘hmm’?”

  Zam held out his hands. “I mean there’s also a verse about how we’re not supposed to fear what man does to us—only what God can do to the soul.”

  Tandy dropped her head back with a groan. Should she tell Zam that she’d faced off with killers before? She’d literally had her life threatened more than once. She could write books on overcoming the fear of man. “Marissa is a woman.”

  “I hear ya.” Zam chuckled. “But part of becoming a Christian is the belief that God gave us commandments because He knows what’s best for us. So I don’t want you to make a poor choice out of fear.”

  Zam was right, but his message was as hard to swallow as one of her burnt cake pops would be. She studied him. The jagged edges of his skinny face. The hard lines of a wide forehead made even wider by a receding hairline. The long tuft of hair in the center of his scalp that gave the appearance he was trying to grow a mohawk rather than simply going bald. The haunted wisdom in his pale eyes. “Spoken like someone who’s been the bad guy before.”

  Zam didn’t flinch. “Haven’t we all?”

  Ouch. Tandy had never thought of herself as a bad guy. Even when she’d made big mistakes, she’d always assured herself she was doing what she had to do. But the truth was that in those moments she’d been ruled by fear. And she’d hurt people. From the scathing newspaper article she’d written that had ended her journalism career to the love-triangle she’d gotten herself into as recently as Valentine’s. Not her finer moments.

  “I’ve been learning the hard way that to overcome any fear, we need a bigger fear.” Zam shrugged. “For example, a woman might be afraid of swimming, but if her baby falls into the pool, she’s going to jump in to save the baby because she’s more afraid of something happening to her child than something happening to her.”

  That made sense. Though it also made Tandy squirm in discomfort. “You’re saying in order to make right choices, displeasing God needs to be my biggest fear.”

  Zam read her lips then looked her in the eye. “If the fear of the Lord was Randon’s biggest fear, he never would have developed a ransomware virus. If the fear of the Lord was Cash’s biggest fear, he never would have tried to kill Randon.”

  Tandy twisted her lips in thought and a little self-derision. “If the fear of the Lord is my biggest fear, then I won’t hide the truth about the stove from Marissa for fear of her reaction.”

  Zam nodded.

  Tandy had never really understood the fear of the Lord before, but this idea was freeing in a way. Because no matter what others did, she still had the power to make the right choice.

  She took a deep breath. She’d write Marissa about the stove because it was the right thing to do. Not because it was going to be easy.

  Marissa stared in horror at her email. Tandy had almost burned down their shop. And she’d thought her friend couldn’t do any worse than a black bridesmaid dress.

  Her amazing evening with the Lord did not make up for having the rest of her life destroyed. Seriously. If God loved her so much, she didn’t get why He’d let her future go up in smoke.

  Marissa ran her fingers into her hair and squeezed the roots away from her scalp. Was she supposed to sit around for the next couple of months while Tandy planned the biggest day of her life? And she wanted to do the cake tasting that day. She’d probably pick coffee and cream flavor. And make the frosting black. Everybody who ate it would look like they were missing teeth in her wedding photos. Which reminded Marissa, she still needed a photographer. What a nightmare.

  She jabbed at the mouse to reply and give specific directions. Would Tandy get the message in time? Or would she put a deposit down on a disaster. It would be a deposit Marissa couldn’t afford because they had to get their oven checked out and possibly repaired.

  If only Marissa could run back to town for a day and get everything taken care of. Then she could actually enjoy her time of rest in the middle of nowhere.

  Her eyes slid toward the window where she could see the shed. She could go back to town for a day.

  Nobody would be looking for her because they didn’t expect her to be there. And she had a disguise to keep her from being recognized. She’d simply start by checking on Tandy and Connor at the cake tasting. She knew where they’d be and when. If they messed up the cake selection, she’d have a little heart to heart with them.

  Well, she hoped to have a heart to heart with Connor either way. Her heart thumped in anticipation of another goodbye kiss.

  He wouldn’t like that she’d come out of hiding, but he’d be happy to see her. Maybe she could even tell him her secret location so he would come for surprise visits.

  No. She couldn’t go that far.

  She was still afraid of the killer, but she was more afraid of having her wedding ruined.

  Zam’s baker friend turned out to be one of his old employees, Bunny. She had to be at least in her seventies, dressed in leather like she belonged on a Harley, and with enough eye makeup to get mistaken for an ’80s rock star. Tandy loved her. Especially with her newfound respect for anybody who could bake.

  The name of the woman’s shop fit too. Cake My Day. It wasn’t cutesy like one might expect in a small tourist town either. It had the tra
ditional black and white tiled flooring, but the walls were black and there was only one chrome table where she and Connor sat at the back of the skinny storefront behind the shiny glass display case along the wall.

  Bunny disappeared into a side room to retrieve their samples.

  Connor groaned, leaning against his minimalist leather chair, and rubbing his belly. “Why did you have to schedule this tasting on the same day as the Americana Festival hotdog eating contest?”

  Tandy stared at the man. First of all, she was new to these festivals and didn’t know such a contest existed. Second, she never would have expected Connor to participate. Didn’t you need a big belly to hold all that food? Third, how could he participate in such frivolity at a time like this? “How many did you eat?”

  “Fourteen.”

  Ugh. One would make her sick. “Why?”

  “The mayor wanted a challenger. Said it would be good publicity for my business since I’m remodeling his house.”

  “Did you win?”

  “No.”

  “Of course, Grace Springs would have a mayor who was also a hot dog eating champion.” Tandy looked from Connor toward the kitchen where Bunny’s fluffy gray ponytail bounced against her patched vest. “It makes me appreciate Bunny all the more.”

  “About that.” Connor leaned forward as if wanting to converse quietly, but he groaned, clutched his stomach, and leaned away again. His eyes flicked Bunny’s way instead. Making sure she was still out of hearing range? “I’m not sure this baker would be Marissa’s first choice. Maybe we can use my stomachache as an excuse to leave. Then we can hire someone from a nearby town or something.”

  Tandy closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the vanilla air. She didn’t want to be planning Marissa’s wedding at all, but working with someone as real as Bunny was would help her get through it. She opened her eyes and frowned. “Did you look in the display case? She does good work.”

  Connor glanced at the bright lighting on all the layers of fondant, combed icing, and piped flowers. The sparkling sweetness took Tandy back to her childhood of memories of sneaking onto the kitchen counter in order to stick her finger in the sugar bowl.

  The front door swung open and a customer dressed like Inspector Gadget stepped in front of the display to admire the handiwork. Tandy might think the outfit strange if not for all the crazy costumes their townsfolk liked to wear. As far as she knew, there was some scavenger hunt going on for the Americana Festival that required entrants to dress like their favorite detectives.

  “They’re beautiful,” Connor conceded. “I’m just afraid this baker is going to deliver the cake to my farm on the back of a motorcycle or something.”

  Tandy tried to imagine such a feat. Maybe the motorcycle had a refrigerated trailer on the back. Or a sidecar with a cakebox shaped seatbelt. “Nothing wrong with that.”

  Connor opened his mouth to argue.

  Bunny’s biker boots clomped their way. Tandy admired their buckles and made a mental note to ask where the baker got them.

  “All right, cutie-pies. I brought you some classics such as vanilla and chocolate, but I also want you to taste my tortes. They don’t use flour, which gives them a smooth, silky texture. I also have some memorable flavors for summer like berry and citrus.”

  Tandy’s stomach growled. She hadn’t had a good piece of cake since Marissa left her to do the baking. “Let’s try them all before we make any decisions,” she suggested to Connor.

  He looked at her like she’d sent him a ransom note for Ranger.

  Bunny dropped into a seat between them. “When’s your big day, kiddos?”

  Connor set about to explain their situation while Tandy eyed the variety of lush layers, trying to decide which to start with. She picked up a fork and reached for the closest little square plate. That was the polite thing to do, right?

  Mmm… The creamy texture melted on her tongue. Light and delicate and not too sweet. “Is this cheesecake?” The brilliance of such a selection blew her mind. “Connor, you have to try this.”

  Connor grunted and fiddled with his fork.

  Bunny looked back and forth between them. “You know, I had a friend in witness protection once. Her dad testified against the leader of a biker gang.”

  “Really?” Bunny got more and more interesting. “Is that green one pistachio?”

  “Key lime. With cinnamon graham cracker crumbles to imitate pie crust.”

  Tandy took a sip of the coffee she’d brought to cleanse her palate. “A vacation for my mouth. Hand it over.”

  Bunny passed her the shiny plate.

  Connor didn’t even look at the dessert but continued to stare at Bunny. “Is the gang leader still in prison?”

  “That is a good question, baby cakes.”

  Tang exploded on Tandy’s tongue. Surprising, yet mixed with the subtlety of sugar and cinnamon for the perfect combination of cool and refreshing. “Oh, Connor. You have to get this one. And then take Marissa to Key West for your Honeymoon.”

  Connor wiped his forehead. “I’m gonna take your word for it. I don’t have the appetite for anything right now.”

  Oh yeah, the hot dog competition. He probably had the meat sweats. If hot dogs could be considered meat.

  Bunny handed him a bottle of water. “Are you all right, sugar?” She may look like a tough biker chick, but she sounded like a southern belle.

  “Yeah.” Connor shifted and adjusted his belt. “I just ate more hot dogs than I should have in a hot dog eating competition.”

  Something clattered from the front of the room. Tandy glanced over her shoulder to see the customer playing Cloak and Dagger with a napkin holder she’d overturned. Reminded her of Marissa’s clumsiness.

  Tandy turned back toward the cake selection. She was here for Marissa, but so far it was a job she enjoyed. “Is that raspberry filling I see?”

  “Raspberry on white chocolate cake. It will make you feel rich.”

  Tandy wouldn’t mind feeling rich. “I could use some money. Though maybe instead of repairing our oven, I should serve your desserts in my shop. Those cupcakes Zam brought in when I ruined the macaroons were a little piece of heaven.”

  More clattering. Tandy glanced over her shoulder to find the lady in the fedora bent over to pick up business cards and their holder off the floor. Whoever she was, she had the look of a spy but obviously not the stealth.

  “Excuse me,” said Bunny. Probably also concerned. She stood and headed toward the counter. “Can I help you, sweet pea?”

  Tandy returned to her tray of enjoyments. “Are you sure you want me to pick, Connor?”

  “As long as there’s no ketchup or mustard involved, I approve.”

  Using the side of her fork, she cut off a piece that looked to be fudge but scooping it into her mouth revealed a nutty flavor. Like peanut butter cups or Nutella. “Add some coffee flavor to this and you’ve got a hazelnut mocha.”

  “I knew it!” The voice sounded like Marissa.

  Had Tandy accidentally butt-dialed the bride and put her on speaker phone? She looked toward her rear pocket even though Marissa wasn’t supposed to have access to her cell phone even if Tandy had accidentally called her.

  Cowboy boots stomped toward them.

  Tandy looked up in time to see the Carmen Sandiego whip off her hat and sunglasses. Long blonde hair cascaded down to frame a pair of seething brown eyes.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Marissa.” Connor jumped to his feet as if he hadn’t been in a hot dog eating contest earlier and bounded to her other side to block her from view of the window. “Put your hat back on before someone sees you. What are you doing here?”

  Being discovered was the least of her worries.

  Tandy gulped down the bite in her mouth like she was trying to swallow her guilt. “I highly recommend the hazelnut mocha cake, though I ate it all, so hopefully Bunny has another piece for you to try.”

  Bunny placed her hands on tiny, frail hips. “Hazelnut m
ocha? I didn’t make a hazelnut mocha.”

  Marissa flipped her hat on with one hand and pointed at Tandy with the other. She never thought she’d be on the same side as a baking biker, but here she was. “EX-actly. You’re adding coffee to my cake, and you probably special ordered the black bridesmaid dress, didn’t you?”

  Tandy blinked. “Uh…no.”

  Bunny tilted her head. “You’re the bride who’s also supposed to be in a safehouse? Oh, muffin. The government doesn’t protect you anymore once you come out of hiding.”

  Marissa dropped her hand. They didn’t? “Well, they don’t know I’m gone. And I’ll ride my four-wheeler back before they find out. I had to set these two straight.”

  Tandy’s eyebrows dropped. “You have a four-wheeler?”

  Connor tucked Marissa’s hair inside the back of her coat. “Did you wear a helmet?”

  “Yes. And yes.” She wasn’t an idiot. “But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to discuss wedding planning. If you don’t want me coming out of hiding to fix things anymore, stop messing them up.”

  Tandy’s eyes rounded as if finally realizing what she’d said before Marissa took her disguise off. “I was only kidding when I said we shouldn’t buy a new oven. Bunny’s cakes are remarkable, but your crumpets are… are…”

  “Crumpety,” Connor finished for her.

  Marissa turned her displeasure his direction.

  He held up his hands. “You’re mad at Tandy, remember? I’m trying to help.”

  “Thanks, Connor.” Tandy deadpanned. “That was so helpful.”

  Marissa crossed her arms, still focused on her fiancé. “About as helpful as showing up for a wedding cake tasting too full from a hot dog eating contest to taste anything.”

  Connor held his stomach. “You have no idea how miserable I feel about the hot dogs right now.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, expression stern. “But Marissa, planning this wedding is not as important as your life. If you want to plan it yourself, then maybe we should postpone.”

  What? She exhaled her anger, and a new feeling took its place. Despair.