by Holly Plum
“I'm here,” Teresa said cheerfully.
***
“I’m just going to take the last of the trash out, and then I’ll be ready to go,” Joy called over her shoulder to Sara Beth.
Sara Beth waved her off as she continued to look over the schedule for the tomorrow.
It had been another long day but thanks to Teresa the day had been manageable. Sara Beth had been freed up to work in the back on the specialty orders. Joy really did need to sit down and look at the finances so that she could figure out a way to hire someone permanently for the front. She hoped that person would be Teresa. It had only been Teresa’s second day, and Joy was already fond of her.
Joy tied up the trash and took a bag in each hand. There was a noticeable increase in waste with all the extra ingredients she was going through to put donuts back on the menu. Extra ingredients meant extra sales, so Joy saw it as a good thing.
She waddled out through the back door, the heat of the summer night hitting her as she walked to the dumpster in the little alley behind the bakery. The bags were so full that she had to carry them one at a time into the dumpster. Finished with that task, Joy brushed her hands together. As she was about to go inside, she paused at the sight of a car in the alley. Her heart stopped when she realized it was the same car Tyson had used to follow Daisy.
He's back.
In an instant, something covered Joy's head, blinding her as strong arms gripped her tightly. She tried to scream, but a hand clamped down over her mouth. Joy fought the best she could, but it was no use. The person, who Joy was certain was Tyson, bound her hands with rope, and picked her up. It wasn’t long before she heard a car door open. Then she was falling, panicking because she couldn’t put her arms out to catch her fall. Joy landed on her side in the backseat of the car. She started screaming just before she heard the door slam shut.
“If you don’t stop screaming I’ll shut you up for good!” Tyson yelled.
It was clear by his tone that he meant it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The car drove for what seemed like an eternity. Joy tried to stay calm, but it was difficult. She thought about her mom and how she used to sing when Joy was feeling scared or upset. Would she be seeing her mother again soon? The thought sent a chill down her spine, but she took several deep breaths to calm herself down. Joy had to come up with a plan. She wondered what Tyson wanted from her, but couldn’t come up with any ideas that didn't involve her ending up the same as Sunny Rogers.
When the car finally stopped, Tyson led Joy somewhere on foot. She heard the chirping of birds once they got out of the car, but there were no traffic noises. They had to be somewhere remote. Joy was led into a quiet place and pushed into a chair. Tyson told Joy to stay quiet and then the sound of his footsteps disappeared in the distance. It seemed that Tyson had temporarily left her, but Joy couldn’t be sure since she still couldn't see.
The rope around Joy's wrists rubbed into her skin and moisture clung to her face from her breath being trapped inside the bag over her head. Joy heard herself breathing and tried to latch on to a coherent thought. How do I get out of this mess?
Sara Beth will realize I’m gone. She’ll call the police, Joy thought. A swell of hope rose in her chest, but she knew she was still on her own. It would take a while for the police to find her, assuming they even could. The hope Joy had just felt dimmed at that thought. At least maybe Tyson was still driving the same car. She’d given Randy the description of it yesterday.
Joy wiggled her hands around, trying to be as discreet as possible. There was just the slightest give in the rope. Maybe she could free her hands. Then she would either have to slowly peel the bag from her head in hopes that she wouldn’t attract attention, or she would have to whip it off as quickly as possible and immediately disable Tyson if he was still nearby.
The creak of a door opening alerted Joy to Tyson’s presence, and Joy froze. The bag problem was remedied for her as he pulled it from her head. Tyson's dark steely gaze met hers. Joy squinted up at him, her eyes adjusting to the light. He looked just like the police sketch.
“Why were you following me?” Tyson asked bluntly.
Joy glanced around the small room that contained cleaning supplies. A lightbulb hung from a chain in the middle of the room. She was in some kind of closet.
Tyson leaned in closer, resting his hands on the arms of Joy’s chair. She leaned away from him, not wanting to be anywhere near him.
Joy said nothing in response.
“Answer me,” Tyson said through clenched teeth.
Joy eyed him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Tyson’s eyes narrowed, but he straightened his shoulders, putting some distance between the two of them. “Did you know Sunny Rogers?”
Joy's pulse quickened at the question. Why would he want to know that? She hesitated to say yes. Though technically, Joy hadn't known Sunny Rogers well.
“I knew of him,” Joy said carefully. She tugged at the rope, and then looked past Tyson to the shelves behind him for something she could use as a weapon.
Tyson got in her face again. “What do you know about him?”
Joy knew Sunny Rogers went for a walk on the beach every morning and his wife, Phyllis, usually came into the bakery to get a muffin and a cup of coffee. Phyllis didn’t do well in the heat and preferred to wait for her husband there. According to her, Sunny's morning walks were one of the only times he left his shop. Joy had heard that he wasn’t the most pleasant person, but his wife was sweet and friendly.
"Nothing," Joy lied.
“It would be in your best interest to answer me,” Tyson said evenly.
Joy doubted that.
She figured, either way, that she was in trouble. Joy just had to stall him for as long as possible and hope that the police were on their way. It seemed like a long shot, but Joy didn’t have any other options available to her. And her other mission was not to be of any help to whatever he was planning on doing.
“I know his wife,” Joy responded. Widow, she reminded herself. She strained against the rope, trying to keep all her movements isolated to her hands. Her thumb popped free, and she fought to keep her face neutral as her insides sang with hope.
“What-”
Tyson was interrupted by a soft beep from within his pocket. He pulled out a cell phone, checked to see who was calling, and swiftly exited the room.
Now’s my chance. Joy twisted her hands, pulling the rope as much as she could. Her fingers and hands were strong from all the kneading she did every day. The rope rubbed her skin raw, but Joy was finally able to pull one hand free and then the other. Joy shot out of the chair and tiptoed to the door, her heart pounding. She listened for footsteps, and then eased out of the closet.
Joy was in some kind of warehouse. It was dark, full of crates and huge shelves, and quiet except for some soft murmuring. Joy crept toward the sound that was coming from the only well-lit area of the warehouse, straining to hear. The murmuring finally morphed into coherent words.
“Don’t worry, Vincent. We’ll find it.” Tyson paused, and then added, “I think I might have a lead.”
Vincent. Vincent, Sunny's silent partner at the antique shop, was behind this whole thing. In her moment of revelation, Joy didn’t notice that a wooden frame lay precariously balanced on the shelf she'd braced against. As Joy eased backward to slink away slowly, the frame came loose and clattered to the floor.
Tyson stopped his conversation abruptly.
For a moment, Joy and Tyson locked eyes before turned around and ran into the darkness.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Joy ran wildly at first, knocking into things in the dark. Pain shot through her side more than once when she collided with a sharp edge. But once she rounded a couple of corners, she stopped to listen. Tyson’s footsteps not far from her halted. And so began their game of cat and mouse.
Joy swallowed, certain he could hear her heart pounding. Everything around her was washed in
shades of gray, the light from the corner of the warehouse barely touching her hiding place. Tyson’s footsteps, though quiet, were still audible, and Joy heard him quickly traveling toward her. She spotted a hole between some large boxes and crept over to it. It was a tight fit, but she managed to squeeze into the slit, holding her breath, so she didn’t make a sound.
Joy froze when she still heard footsteps coming closer. Tyson was trying to be as quiet as possible, but Joy could still hear him. The urge to run welled up in her, but she stayed rooted in place, praying he would walk right by.
When Tyson got to Joy's hiding spot, he paused. Joy held her breath as a bead of sweat rolled down her back. Everything was perfectly still and quiet. With lightning speed, Tyson’s hand darted in between the large boxes and his fingertips grazed Joy's hair.
Joy screamed and shrank back. She looked for another way out of her hiding place, but there was nowhere to go. The boxes were far too heavy for her to push and there were no other avenues that led to freedom. She was trapped. It had been a fatal error climbing into the crevice.
Tyson, who heard her desperate attempts to knock the boxes over, was slowly making progress wedging himself into the narrow opening. His large frame blocked out what little light Joy had left to see.
Joy screamed as loud as she could.
“No one can hear you in here,” Tyson growled through clenched teeth.
Finally, Tyson grabbed hold of her shirt and pulled her out into the open. Joy flailed her arms, but Tyson clearly had the upper hand. He pushed her against the boxes and grabbed her hands to re-tie them. This time, he secured the rope so tight that it hurt.
“Why are you doing this?” Joy asked between gasps. Her voice was hoarse from screaming.
“You followed me, remember?” Tyson turned her around to face him.
Joy studied his dimly lit features. “You and Vincent killed Sunny.”
“I can’t believe that old man was killed with his own antiques.” Tyson chuckled at his joke.
“Why did you do it?” Joy's stomach churned. "Why did you murder him?"
Tyson shrugged. “Sunny put himself in a precarious situation. Some idiot sold him a bunch of what he thought was worthless stuff from his grandmother’s attic, including a jade carving of a Chinese dragon from the Qing dynasty. Sunny bought it for pennies from a guy named James Wang and found out it was worth over a million dollars. He tried to sell the carving without Vincent knowing about it.” Tyson’s lips drew back in a cocky smile. “Obviously Vincent found out about it and hired me to steal the jade dragon from him.”
Joy knew she had to keep him talking. “I saw you arguing with a woman named Daisy in the parking lot at the grocery store the other day. What were you arguing about?”
"I don't know a woman named Daisy." A quizzical glint appeared in his eyes as he studied Joy. “I’m very sorry you had to get in the middle of this, but it’s time for me to tie up loose ends.”
Joy’s heart hammered against her ribcage. “I won’t say anything if you let me go. We can forget this ever happened-” Her voice trembled.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go,” Tyson said as his grip on Joy’s arms tightened.
“Freeze!”
Tyson and Joy were both startled as a beam of light illuminated them. Randy stood still with his gun pointed at Tyson. Two more police officers stood behind him with their weapons drawn.
Tyson sneered at the sight before him, but he slowly raised his hands.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“You don’t have to worry anymore now that we have Tyson,” Randy assured his cousin.
Joy gave him a small smile and nodded. “Thank you.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you going to go after Vincent Fox too?” She had told Randy about the phone call and that Tyson was working for him.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, they’re bringing Vincent in right now.”
Even though they’d caught the murderer and Tyson was safely behind bars, Joy still wished she didn't have to spend the night alone. But it was late, and it was time to say goodbye.
“Thank you for finding me in time,” Joy said.
“Sara Beth saved the day. If she hadn’t have heard something outside the bakery, I don’t know what would’ve happened.” Randy’s brow creased with the admission.
Joy shuddered at the thought.
Randy squeezed her arm. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” Then he paused. “Hey, what did Tyson want with you anyway?”
Joy shrugged. “He wanted to know why I followed him that day. He also asked me some questions about Sunny Rogers. I didn't tell him anything.”
"And do you know anything about Sunny Rogers that could help us?" Randy asked. He straightened the collar of his uniform.
“Not really,” Joy responded. “All I know is that Phyllis used to come into the bakery sometimes while Sunny walked on the beach. She said it was one of the few times he ever left the shop.” She brushed some hair away from her face.
“Hm.” Randy scratched his chin. “Well, I’d better be off. It’s late.”
The next morning when Sara Beth arrived at the bakery, there was already a line of customers at the door. Apparently, Joy had underestimated just how big of a hit her donuts had become. Sara Beth and Joy got to work right away, Joy staying up front to help with the rush that quickly bought out her morning stock of donuts.
Just after they’d sold the last donut, a woman approached the counter, ignoring the long line of people who were still hopeful that they would get some of the new menu item.
“I seem to have misplaced my wallet,” the woman said. The anxious look in her eyes was now familiar. “I had to lose it here somehow. I went to the bank straight after coming here, and I didn’t have it, but I did have my wallet when I paid for my muffin."
Joy frowned. “I’m sorry you lost your wallet. We haven’t found anything, but can I get your number in case we do?”
The woman’s face fell, but she gave Joy her phone number.
“When were you here?” Joy asked, trying to sound conversational as she wrote down the woman’s details.
“It was the other day… around nine.”
“Okay, thank you. I’ll call you if anything turns up.” Joy bit her lip. Just like the others, Daisy had been around the bake shop at the time. The woman gave Joy a brief description of the wallet and then left.
The incident turned Joy’s thoughts to Daisy. She wondered if Randy had talked to her yet. Surely he would take it seriously that she’d been talking to Tyson, even if the event had only been a chance encounter. He hadn’t mentioned anything last night, and Joy hadn’t had the heart to ask him about it. She did wonder if she was doing him a disservice. Daisy just didn’t seem like the right girl for Randy, even excluding the whole thing with Tyson. But Joy didn’t know if it was her place to say anything. After all, she hadn’t talked to Randy in a long time, and she didn’t really know Daisy. Who was she to interfere?
As if her thoughts had summoned her, Daisy walked into the bakery with a wide smile plastered on her face.
“I just thought I would see how the wedding display is coming along,” Daisy said. “I’m looking forward to tasting those amazing donuts of yours.”
The front door opened again, and Teresa stepped in. She paused before her usual ritual of retreating to the back room to set her things down and wash her hands.
“Hey, I know you," Teresa commented. "Have you ever been to Georgia?”
Daisy’s eyes darted back and forth before settling on Teresa again. This time her smile reached epic proportions. “Oh. Um. I don’t think so. You must have me confused with someone else.”
Teresa stared at Daisy for a moment. “Oh, my mistake.”
"Let me get my notes," Joy said, looking at Daisy. Teresa's comment didn't sit well with Joy as she went to the back and got out her notebook. When Joy returned to the front, Daisy was nowhere to be found.
“Where did Daisy go?” Joy asked Sara Beth.
Sara Beth shrugged. “She said she forgot something. I don't know when she'll be back."
“Daisy?” Teresa said, her eyebrows raised. She momentarily stopped what she was doing.
Sara Beth and Joy turned to her.
“Yes," Joy said. "The woman who was just here. Her name is Daisy."
“Huh,” Teresa responded. “I swear I've seen her before.” She narrowed her eyes, deep in thought. After several minutes, Teresa snapped her fingers. “That's it. Rita Cross was her name. I'm sure of it. She worked at a furniture store I went to once in Georgia.”
That was it. There were just too many strange things about Daisy or Rita, and Joy couldn't in good conscience let her cousin marry her. He didn’t even know her real name.
Joy dashed to the back to call Randy. She mumbled in frustration when he didn’t answer. Again. This time, she wasn’t going to wait to talk to him. If he wasn’t going to pick up, she would simply go and find him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Joy drove down Main Street, her mind once again whirling. Why had Daisy changed her name? She was sure Randy would do some research once he knew. Joy couldn’t let her cousin marry someone who was so layered in deceit.
A car barreled around the corner and smashed into her. There was a deafening crunch as metal screeched against metal. Her world spun, and for a moment, Joy was completely disoriented. Another crash brought everything to a sudden stop.
Joy let out a shaky breath as she began to make sense of what had happened. The front end of her car was crumpled up against a telephone pole, and a breeze blew in from the smashed out windows where the other car had collided with her. Something dripped down the side of her face. Dazed, Joy stared at the smudges of red that appeared on her fingers after she'd wiped her forehead. Her eyes trailed across the street to the intersection and Joy was shocked to see Daisy running toward her from the car that had just hit her.