A Cuppa Trouble

by Angela Ruth Strong

  “No kiddin’?” Vic popped another fry. “You knew him when we were together.”

  Tandy rolled her eyes. That made it sound like Vic had been her first choice. “I hadn’t seen him since we were thirteen. We reconnected when I moved here.”

  “What a fantastic surprise to find out he’d grown up to work for a law firm. He probably makes good money, huh?”

  “Yes.” She cloaked her words in sarcasm. “Can’t you tell how materialistic I am by my Beetle and one-bedroom apartment? I’m obviously dating him because I’m shallow.”

  Headlights flashed in the distance. The tension shifted from hanging between them to a shared stiffness. Were they about to catch a car thief?

  The SUV rolled past, and Tandy exhaled, sinking deeper into chilly leather.

  Vic crumpled his bag and set it to the side. When the whites of his eyes flashed her direction, no trace of humor remained. “You’re not the shallow one, Tandy. I am.”

  Tandy rolled the unexpected confession around in her brain. No matter from which angle she studied it, it didn’t fit. How could Vic be shallow unless he really was a car thief, and this was his confession? But that didn’t fit either. “What?”

  “I broke up with you without telling you why. Without going deeper to work on the challenges of our relationship.” No trademark grin took the edge off his solemn words.

  Tandy didn’t know how to deal with an earnest Vic. If he meant what he said, she needed to figure out what he was talking about. “Our challenge was that you had to move to another city. I knew that.”

  Vic looked down and tapped the gearshift. “I didn’t have to move to Toledo. I’ve always been able to work remotely.”

  The impact of such a revelation jolted Tandy backwards against the door. If he hadn’t had to leave Cincinnati, then he’d chosen to leave. What had she done to drive Vic away? Did she want to know?

  He grimaced. “I didn’t realize how much I would miss you, so I came here to be honest and see if we could have another chance. I didn’t expect you to start dating someone else so quickly.”

  Okay. She needed to defuse these truth bombs. First, Vic used his relocation as an excuse to breakup with her. Second…second didn’t matter yet. She couldn’t focus on the fact that he missed her if she didn’t know why he’d left in the first place.

  “Why did you break up with me?” Her heart thrummed with the insignificance she’d felt ever since Mom left.

  She’d been angry that Vic had chosen the job over her, like she’d been angry that Greg was choosing his job over her, but now it sounded like Vic had chosen nothing over her. He’d rather have been single than be with her. Unless he wasn’t single…

  She swallowed. “Was there someone else?”

  Vic grunted.

  Tandy closed her eyes and leaned against her headrest. With the way blood roared in her ears, a whole motorcycle gang could ride into the car dealership and take off with every car in the parking lot, and she wouldn’t have even noticed.

  “I wanted there to be someone else,” he finally said.

  Well, that didn’t help. Tandy opened her eyes to scowl. “You didn’t cheat on me, but you wanted to?”

  “No, no.” Vic’s pleading tone softened the walls around her heart. “I’m messing this all up.”

  Vic never messed up his words. They were always confident and joyful like his smile.

  “I’m better with cars. Remember when I drove a Dodge Challenger?”

  He was comparing her to a Challenger? “Yeah, and you loved it. Except when you found out that it was in the top ten most dangerous cars, you sold it for a Chrysler.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t want to take the risk.”

  Tandy shook her head. “How am I a risk?” Sure, she had an edgy side, but she’d also almost cried over that portrait of Cocoa.

  Vic stilled, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light. “You’re white.”

  Was he racist? Could a black man be racist? “I thought that didn’t matter to you.”

  He started to reach for her but then pulled away. He dropped his hand into his lap. “It didn’t. But it mattered to my sisters.”

  Her spine jerked upright. Her arms flailed. “Your sisters? I thought your sisters loved me.”

  “They do.” He grimaced. “Just not as my wife. They hate it when successful black men marry white women because it feels like a slap in the face to them. Like black women are not good enough.”

  Tandy knew the feeling of not being good enough. She ran her fingers into her hair and pressed her palms against her scalp, though that wasn’t going to keep her mind from being blown. Had Vic really wanted to marry her? Was marrying someone of another race that much different from dating them? If Vic’s sisters loved her, why couldn’t they accept that Vic did too? And why should this matter now? The two of them weren’t even dating anymore. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I should have told you a long time ago. I thought I was doing the sacrificial thing by protecting you and any possible children from discrimination and—”

  “You should have told me.” For the first time since Vic had arrived in Grace Springs, they agreed on something.

  But what would have happened if he’d told her? How would she have reacted to in-laws who didn’t want to be related? And if her children had brown skin, they’d be dealing with racism in a way Tandy had never experienced. Like Brittney, the little girl in her first-grade class who’d cried when a thoughtless boy told her that her skin looked like poop. At the time, Tandy had argued Brittney’s skin looked like chocolate then licked her arm to prove it. For some reason that hadn’t helped.

  If Tandy and Vic had married and had kids together, their children would surely get judged by both races. And all this time, Tandy thought she’d had abandonment issues.

  “I’m sorry, Tandy.”

  She stared at Vic’s handsome face in a new light. What would she have done if Vic had been honest in the beginning? Had he truly been protecting her by not making her face her own prejudice? Was she glad she didn’t have to make that choice now?

  “I. Can’t. Breathe.” She sucked at the stale air and grabbed the door handle.

  His hand caught her arm. “Wait.”

  She pushed against his chest. She was a fighter.

  With that knowledge came the answer to the question she’d been afraid to ask herself. She was a fighter. “Vic, if you’d told me this when we were still together, I would have married you.”

  He stilled, except for his lungs, which rose and fell underneath her palms.

  So she continued. “If you’d been honest from the beginning, we could have worked through this. It’s not the color of our skin that kept us from being on the same team.” She pushed away and straightened, separating herself from her ex in a new way. “I know it wouldn’t have been easy, but I would have fought for us the same way I’m going to fight for my relationship with Greg. I’m going to be vulnerable with him even if it means he might reject me the way I felt you did.”

  Yes. She would. And she needed to start right now. She grabbed for the door handle again.

  Vic caught her hand. He didn’t pull this time, only held on firmly and respectfully. “Thank you for telling me, but that’s not why I tried to stop you a moment ago.”

  Tandy studied the features she could make out in the dark. He didn’t seem to be looking at her. “Why then?”

  He didn’t answer, but she followed the direction of his gaze to see for herself. A hooded figure snuck from car to car across the street.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tandy fumbled for her phone to call Griffin. A sense of déjà vu brought back the memory of how she and Connor had found her Slug Bug. At least this time she hadn’t kissed anyone.

  Better yet, she’d found closure on an old relationship. But that wasn’t what made her heart hammer against her chest.

  She hit the contact icon for Griffin and held the cell phone to her ear, willing the sheriff to answer right
away.

  Vic pulled his cell out, as well, only he used his to film the burglary taking place in the car lot. “I don’t think this is a farmhand from Connor’s ranch.”

  The phone rang unanswered across the line. Tandy peered through the night at the figure unlocking a door of a convertible Mustang. “Why not?”

  “Look how small the thief is. It has to be a woman.”

  “Susan Snodgrass?” Greg wasn’t going to like this one bit. He may even like it less than he liked Tandy being alone with Vic. Was that good or bad?

  Vic swiped his fingers across his screen to zoom in. “Besides Susan, the only other female in town who we know can steal a car is Marissa.”

  Still no answer over the phone. “You’re not thinking of making another citizen’s arrest, are you?”

  Vic’s teeth flashed as his grin returned. “We can’t let her get away with this.”

  Tandy narrowed her eyes. “I will not be an accomplice to kidnapping.”

  “Tandy?” Griffin growled. “Who are you kidnapping?”

  Tandy grimaced. The sheriff always answered at the worst times. “Nobody. I’m with Vic at Fairly Reliable Fred’s, and we found your car thief.”

  “I’m on my way.” Something clattered, and Griffin’s breathing puffed louder in her ear. “Don’t let Vic stuff them in his trunk this time, but also don’t let them get away.”

  An engine rumbled from across the street. Headlights flashed.

  Tandy’s pulse gunned it. “The thief started a car. What do we do?”

  “Block the exit,” Griffin barked loud enough to be heard from the driver’s seat.

  Vic cranked on his ignition in response.

  Tandy lowered the phone and leaned toward Vic, desperation coloring her view of possible outcomes. “What if she’s armed? What if she’s actually the one who killed George?”

  “She?” Griffin’s voice echoed from a distance.

  Vic flashed on his headlights, lighting their way and hopefully blinding the enemy. “Then we’ll block her exit like Griffin said and climb out the passenger door to escape bullets.”

  Adrenaline sputtered through Tandy’s limbs. She held her breath and gripped the door handle, ready to make a hasty retreat.

  Vic shifted into drive and stepped on the gas. The car jerked forward, straight toward the Mustang in the parking lot. The convertible grew larger, racing them toward the exit.

  “You’re supposed to block her way out, not play chicken,” Tandy screamed.

  “Oh, I’m gonna block it all right.” Vic spun the steering wheel, turning the car sideways and screeching into place between the curbs.

  The Mustang didn’t slow.

  “Vic!” Tandy let go of the door and reached to pull her ex away from the driver’s side.

  The car rocked on impact, giving her the full sensation of a mosh pit at an actual rock concert. Metal screeched like only heavy metal could. An airbag caught Tandy the way the floor had caught her that one time she’d tried bodysurfing. This show was not something she’d paid for. Though, unfortunately, Vic might have to pay.

  Tandy waited for the spinning in her head to stop so she could reorient herself. The car shimmied to a halt, engines whined quietly, powder from the airbags floated eerily in the beam of headlights, and the scent of burning rubber singed her nose hairs.

  Vic moaned from his bucket seat compacted into hers. At least he was alive. “I can’t believe Susan hit us.”

  Tandy unsnapped her seatbelt from across tender ribs and twisted to face Vic. “Are you okay? What hurts?”

  Vic leaned away from the warped car frame that now shared his seat then reached across his body to hold his left arm close. “I’m fine. She didn’t get away, did she?”

  Tandy glanced through the shattered window into the windshield of the Mustang. All she could see of the hooded felon was a mouth hanging open. “She looks as shocked as we are.”

  “Yeah, hard to get away when you destroy your getaway car.” Vic grunted then gingerly twisted his head to get a look for himself.

  As if the heat of Vic’s gaze melted the perp’s frozen state, the car thief shoved the car door open and scrambled out.

  Sirens blared. Blue and red lights flashed, coloring their surroundings like a disco ball.

  The thief ran, zig-zagging through lines of cars like a football quarterback. Griffin’s vehicle raced to the other side of the lot. The sheriff slammed on his brakes and jumped out.

  The perp scampered, lighter on her feet than Griffin, but not as powerful.

  Griffin circled a MINI Cooper and made the sack.

  Tandy sank into her seat and let out a deep breath. Their little car crash hadn’t been for nothing. Though what a night. Not to mention Vic’s confession of how he’d given her up like his Challenger because they were both too much of a risk. A laugh bubbled out. She couldn’t help it.

  Vic grimaced. “What?” He was likely in pain, but it could have been worse.

  She motioned to his side of the car. “Good thing you traded in your Challenger for this safer vehicle.”

  His eyes crinkled at the sides. He might not be able to laugh about it yet, but someday he would. And just like he was better off without his muscle car, he’d also be able to look back at their relationship as an exciting ride that he’d given up. If they learned something from their communication failure, they could both do better for themselves.

  She grabbed her door handle and opened it this time. Once she climbed out, she turned to help Vic follow. Her limbs moved stiffly, but she wouldn’t be as sore as Vic.

  He remained in his spot, watching through the windshield. “Look,” he said.

  She glanced toward the spot where Griffin had tackled the thief. The sheriff pulled the perp to her feet and tugged the sweatshirt hood back.

  The thief hadn’t been Susan Snodgrass after all. The thief wasn’t even a woman.

  The face Tandy stared at couldn’t be the mastermind of a high-tech crime ring, and he certainly couldn’t be George’s killer.

  Her lips parted in shock. “It’s a kid.”

  Marissa had loved making Valentine’s treats ever since she was a kid, but it wasn’t the same when her boyfriend had taken off on Valentine’s Eve. They should be celebrating their engagement.

  She scooped sugary scented pink frosting into a piping bag with a sigh. Maybe it would help if she made Connor a special cookie bouquet. She’d have it ready by the time he returned with nails from the hardware store.

  She printed words across the frosted cookies to make them look like conversation hearts.

  BE MINE

  XOXO

  SOUL MATE

  KISS ME

  What she really wanted to write was MARRY ME. Isn’t that what Connor wanted too? Or had she been wrong about that?

  What a depressing thought. Made her want to stuff all the cookies in her mouth.

  At least Tandy could relate to her with relationship issues. She was out trying to prove her ex-boyfriend innocent of a crime so he would leave town and she could move forward with her current boyfriend.

  Hmm…Tandy was out. Marissa peeked from the kitchen through the front of her closed shop to make sure her partner wasn’t returning to fill Marissa in on the results of her stakeout before heading home.

  Nope. Marissa still had the place to herself. Which meant she could make herself a cup of espresso and pep right up from her funk.

  Sneaking behind the counter—even though nobody was there to catch her—Marissa scooped beans into the grinder. The nutty scent was growing on her and made her feel more awake despite not having taken a drink yet.

  Wow, she was turning into Tandy. What would Tandy do while waiting for the espresso machine to heat up?

  Well, first, Tandy would have said “good night” instead of “wow.” Second, if Tandy wasn’t out there catching car thieves, she’d be here doing research about them on the internet. Marissa pulled her new phone from her apron pocket. It beeped the beep of a dying b
attery, so she retrieved a portable phone charger from the lost and found bucket. It had probably been Randon’s. He had a million of them.

  Now where did she start? She didn’t know anything about car thieves.

  She entered “Car Thieves” into the search engine and looked for the most recent date. February 12th popped up. Yesterday? Had George’s death made the papers? Her stomach churned, but she clicked anyway.

  A photo of multiple cars smashed to pieces appeared on her screen. She slid her fingers wider to enlarge the tiny print underneath.

  Philippines President sends message to car smugglers by demolishing 29 luxury cars found shipped illegally to a Manila Port.

  Marissa frowned. At one-point-two million dollars, that seemed like a waste. Though if the cars were stolen in a country like America, the original owners would have received insurance money, so the smugglers would be the only ones out any money. Besides the insurance companies though, what was the likelihood the cars could be returned to the original owners?

  Marissa entered a second question into the search bar to find out where the cars were being smuggled from. Another list of articles popped up. Something about Canada being a haven for smuggling cars followed by an article on American smugglers. She clicked on the American story then sighed in relief to find her country was cracking down on smuggling rings. The border patrol had even ordered freighters that had left port to return when they suspected stolen vehicles were being shipped under the guise of used fitness equipment. Apparently, organized crime operations such as terrorist groups in third world countries would pay top dollar for luxury vehicles. Their United States counterparts were renting or financing cars such as Ferraris and Lamborghinis under fake names, or simply carjacking them, then they were all sent overseas to be sold on the black market.

  That information definitely deserved a “Good night!”

  Marissa shivered. At least such crimes were much bigger than what her small town was dealing with. No drug lord or kingpin living in the African desert was going to pay top dollar for Tandy’s slug bug or something from the lot at Fairly Reliable Fred’s. As for Randon’s Corvette? It was old. More valuable to a hipster who wanted to impress his buddies at car shows than a sheik to use for racing against a camel. Now maybe Abigail’s Porsche…but that one hadn’t actually been stolen.