by Lena Gregory
She squinted to get a better look, her eyes still blurry from exhaustion. “Oh my…”
“You recognize him?”
“Yes.”
“From New York, or have you seen him down here?”
“I saw him in the café. He’s been in a couple of times since…well…you know. He said his name was Caleb Williams.” She’d read over the names of the people involved in the civil suits against Bradley and her numerous times. “I don’t remember seeing his name anywhere, though.”
“Because his name isn’t Caleb Williams, it’s Caleb Fontaine.”
“Oh. Oh no.” She recognized the name immediately. He’d been one of the many to call and harass her during the trial. He’d never believed she was innocent, even after she was exonerated. And he’d vowed to get even.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Um…” She tried to remember, but everything seemed foggy. He’d asked her out to dinner the same night Trevor had. And she’d almost said yes. Had she almost gone out with Bradley’s killer? Had he intended to kill her?
“Gia?”
“Oh, uh…sorry. He came into the café… I think it was the day before yesterday. The day you were there with Sonny.”
“Is that the man you were talking to at the counter? He had his back to me, so I never got a look at his face.”
“Yes. And then I saw him again tonight when we were at the bed and breakfast. He came out and got in his car when we were leaving. He had a duffle bag with him, but I didn’t leave until after he’d gone, so I don’t even know which way he went.”
Hunt nodded. “Do you remember if you saw him at all before Bradley was killed?”
“No. I can’t remember. I can’t think straight yet.”
“It’s all right. If you think of anything else call me and let me know.”
“Call you? Aren’t you staying?”
“I can’t. Leo is going to be here in a few minutes. He’ll park out front and keep an eye on the house until morning, then he’ll bring you to the café. I’ll pick you up when you close and drive you home.” He stood and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Hopefully, we’ll have him in custody by then, now that we know he’s probably still hanging around.”
He didn’t have to tell her he was probably still hanging around to kill her. She’d pretty much figured that one out on her own.
Chapter 23
Gia recounted the money from the register drawer. She had to have made a mistake. Her mind had been everywhere but on business all day. She hadn’t heard a word from Hunt since he’d left in search of Caleb the night before. He was supposed to pick her up after they closed, which, technically, wouldn’t be for another hour, but they hadn’t had a single customer since lunch time, so she’d closed early. At least, they’d had a fairly steady, but slow, breakfast and lunch.
All she wanted to do was clean up, get Thor from daycare, and go home. She couldn’t help but wonder if Hunt still planned on staying with her. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit some small part of her hoped they didn’t find Caleb Fontaine.
As much as she’d enjoyed her walk in the park with Trevor, that spark of attraction just wasn’t there. But with Hunt…well…what could she say?
She threw the pile of bills she was holding onto the counter after losing track again. No wonder she kept coming up short. She had to clear her mind. She’d be better off if Hunt found Caleb and went back home to Sonny. The last complication Gia needed in her life was a man.
“Okay, let’s try this again.” She rubbed her eyes and tried to concentrate. She sorted all the bills into piles separated by denomination, then grabbed an order pad and pen. At least then if she got sidetracked and lost count, she wouldn’t have to recount all of it. Not that there was more than a couple thousand dollars.
Mark stopped at the counter before she made it through the first pile. “Do you want me to wait while you lock up?”
“Is everything done? The garbage out?” She still avoided going out back, except for cracking the door open to leave Harley’s dinner, which she’d almost forgotten to do. She’d have to take care of it as soon as she finished with the register.
“Yup, and the back is all locked up, but I could hang around if you want, just so you don’t have to leave alone.”
She waved him off. “I’ll be all right. Detective Quinn is picking me up. Thank you, though.”
He frowned. “Detective Quinn? Is something wrong?”
Unsure if Hunt wanted anyone else to know they had a suspect, she dodged the question. “No. Everything’s fine. I just didn’t drive in this morning, and he offered to pick me up and drive me home.”
“All right then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He started toward the door but turned back. “Make sure you lock up behind me.”
Distracted by the fact that the day’s receipts didn’t match the amount of money in the register, she followed him to the door, waved, and locked the door when he left. Then she returned to the register and counted the drawer again. Still three hundred dollars short. “This doesn’t make sense.”
But there was no arguing her findings this time. She’d counted one pile at a time and written her results on the pad, then added them up. And she came up with the exact same total she’d come up with every other time she’d counted.
She racked her brain for where the money could have gone but still came up empty. She hadn’t gotten any deliveries, hadn’t run out for anything, hadn’t given Mark or Willow money to run errands. There was simply no other excuse. Someone had stolen from the register.
Willow was the most likely suspect, since she was the only person, other than Gia, to regularly ring up customers, but the thought broke Gia’s heart. She liked Willow. A lot. The girl was a hard worker. She was good with the customers. Gia couldn’t believe she’d steal from her.
Perhaps the money had slid down the back. She pulled out the drawer and searched underneath. Nothing. She replaced the drawer and slid it shut. No way could she confront Willow without being a 110 percent sure the money was missing.
She emptied the shelves beneath the register and looked at all the shelving. If the money had fallen into the bins she kept underneath for dirty dishes, she or Mark would have found it when they’d emptied the bins and loaded the dishwasher.
Hmm…Mark? She couldn’t remember Mark having used the register that day, but he certainly knew how it worked. She’d trained him herself.
Maybe she should just suck up the loss this time and give everyone their own code to access the register. At least if it happened again she might be able to narrow down when the discrepancy occurred. As it was, there wasn’t much she could do.
With a sigh, she pulled out the drawer and started counting again. Whatever the amount this time, it was going in the deposit bag. She’d hoped to get out early, but by the time she finished making Harley’s dinner and cleaning up, she’d be lucky if she finished before Hunt got there.
She started counting again, but a knock on the door interrupted her. She glanced up, expecting to find Hunt standing there, but instead, she found Miranda Ainsworth.
Giving up on counting, she jotted the amount she’d kept getting on the deposit slip, stuffed that and the money into the deposit bag, and shoved the bag into her purse on the counter.
Fading sunlight glinted off Miranda’s ring when she gestured for Gia to unlock the door.
Gia stuck her purse on the shelf beneath the counter and went to open the door. May as well get this over with. She probably should have called her after she’d fled the hotel and let her know she’d turned everything over to the police. Hopefully, they’d be able to help her get her money back. And if not, well maybe she’d be more careful who she got involved with in the future. Though Gia felt bad about the uncharitable thought, she couldn’t help it. The woman had obviously known Bradley was married to h
er when she’d gotten involved with him. Not that it served her right—no one deserved to lose everything—it just wasn’t Gia’s problem.
She unlocked the door and stepped back. “Come on in, Ms. Ainsworth.”
She strutted through the door like she owned the place. “Did you find it?”
“Find what, exactly?”
“Don’t play with me. Did you find anything that belonged to me?” She pointed a dagger sharp, blood-red nail at her. “Or did you come to your senses and decide to give me what’s mine?”
“Look, I don’t know exactly what you’re looking for, but I did find paperwork with your name on it.” She could at least give her that much, though it probably wouldn’t help. She rounded the counter, retrieved her purse from the shelf, and dug through for her cell phone. She pulled up the picture she’d taken of the paperwork and held the phone out. “That’s all I found.”
Miranda yanked the phone from her and stared at the picture through the cracked screen. She played with it until her name showed between cracks, then ran her finger along the line her name was on. “This’ll do for now. Where is it?”
Uh oh. This was the part where she wasn’t going to be happy. “The police have it.”
“What!” She slammed the phone onto the floor.
“Hey!”
“Are you crazy?” Smoke practically poured from her ears. “Why would you give it to the cops?”
“It was in a box with a bunch of folders. The police confiscated it all.” Confiscated, she handed it over, same difference.
“Why would they take the folders?”
“I-I-I don’t know. They took them when they found the lawyer.”
“What lawyer?”
A noise came from the back room. It sounded like the door clicking shut, but Mark had locked it before he left, so it was probably wishful thinking. “Don Reynolds.”
“Did that snake tell them anything?”
“N-no. He wasn’t able to.”
“You mean, he’s dead?”
“Yes.” Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. Oh, well. Not like she could take it back. And right now, she’d say just about anything to get this woman out of her shop. “So, you’ll need to get the papers from the police. Sorry, I can’t help you further, but I really have to get done. My ride will be here any minute.”
Miranda paced back and forth in front of the counter, tapping a fingernail against her chin. “No.”
Gia slung her purse over her shoulder. “Excuse me?”
“I said, no.” She pulled a gun out of her purse and pointed it at Gia, her hand shaking wildly. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Gia froze. She focused on the back room, desperate to hear a repeat of the sound she’d heard indicating that someone had come in to save her. She couldn’t hear a thing over the blood rushing in her ears and her ragged breathing. She was going to have to get out of this herself. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You are going to get the papers back from the cops. Call them and tell them you need the paperwork back. And where’s the flash drive?”
“Flash drive?”
“Reynolds should have had a flash drive with him when he died. Where is it?”
“The police found it.”
“What!” The scream she let out sent shivers running through Gia. The woman was completely and totally unbalanced.
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“You don’t know anything, right? Innocent little Gia. Wasn’t involved in anything her big, bad husband was doing. Didn’t even suspect anything. Just another victim.” She lifted the gun toward Gia. Her hand steadied. “Well, I’m not buying it.”
“I—”
“What’s going on?” Mark strode through the door from the back room.
She’d never been so relieved to see anyone. “Call 911. Hurry.”
Miranda kept the gun trained on Gia. “Oh, nothing much. Gia here was just telling me how the police found the flash drive on the dead lawyer.”
“Hmm…” He stuck hands in the pockets of his khakis and rocked back on his heels.
“Don’t stand there and hmmm me.” Her cheeks flushed purple, and strands of hair came loose from her up-do and tumbled into her face. “You weren’t supposed to kill him until you had the flash drive, you moron.”
“I got interrupted.”
“What?” Gia’s head spun, then realization dawned. “Oh. Oh, no.”
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Spittle sprayed from her mouth. Miranda Ainsworth was definitely losing it.
And if Gia didn’t find a way out of there soon, she probably wasn’t going to get out.
“Give me the gun, Miranda, before you hurt yourself.” Mark held out a hand and inched toward her. Maybe he was on Gia’s side after all.
“You know how important that paperwork is. I have to have those names.” She shoved the loose strands of hair back into her bun.
“I know.”
“I already lost everything, and we can’t continue Bradley’s work without that information.”
“It’s okay. We’ll get what we need,” Mark told her calmly.
“How?”
“Hand me the gun, and I’ll show you.”
She raked her gaze over Gia, then relented and handed him the gun. Her shoulders slumped.
A breath of air whooshed out of Gia’s lungs in a painful burst. “Oh, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Mark held the gun out in front of him, aimed right at Gia’s chest. “You are going to get that information from your new friend, Detective Quinn.”
“But I—”
“But nothing. I have no intention of leaving here poor. Remington’s entire scheme is outlined in those papers and on the drive. Names, account numbers, contacts, everything. As soon as we get it, we can get out of here and start over.”
“Start over? You mean swindling people?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Three hundred dollars is not going to get me very far.”
Gia gasped, and despite the desperateness of her situation, anger surged. “You stole the money out of the register.”
He laughed. “Not like you’ll be needing it where you’re going. Now come around the counter and pick up your phone.”
She glanced at the clock. Hunt should be coming soon to pick her up. If she could just stall…
“Don’t bother. He won’t make it in time.”
She bit back an angry retort before it could slip out. The last thing she needed to do was antagonize a man holding a gun on her. She rounded the counter, bent, and retrieved the phone. One look at the screen sank any hopes of calling for help. She held up the shattered screen for him to see. “Your friend had a temper tantrum.”
He shrugged it off and moved behind her. “No problem. Use the phone in the back.”
If she could call Hunt, maybe she could find a way to let him know she was in trouble. Or maybe she could call Savannah. Savannah knew her well enough to read between the lines. Hunt, not so much.
Miranda shoved her toward the back room. “Move faster.”
Gia stopped and glared at her. Once she made it into the back, the chances of anyone looking in the front window and noticing what was going on dropped to about zero. “I don’t know what Bradley ever saw in you.”
Miranda looked down her nose at Gia. “Do you know what got Bradley killed, Gia?”
“No. What?”
She stared directly into Gia’s eyes and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He didn’t move fast enough.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He was supposed to contact you and get the box you took out of the storage area, but he kept making one excuse after another, avoiding me. Had he moved just a little faster, Mark wouldn’t have had to put a bullet
in his head. Now…” She shoved her again. “Start moving, or you will be joining him soon.”
Gia had no intention of joining Bradley in the afterlife. As she started toward the back room, she slid the cracked phone into her purse.
Mark followed her.
She could feel the gun aimed at her back. If she lived through this, she’d have—
Her fingers brushed something cool and hard in her purse. Hope soared. She’d only have one chance, and if she screwed it up, she’d be dead. Heck, she was probably already dead. She yanked the bear spray from her purse and depressed the button as she whirled on him.
Mark screamed, pressed his hands against his eyes, and started choking.
Miranda waved a hand wildly in front of her face, choking and crying.
Gia bolted. With Mark and Miranda between her and the front door, she ran through the back. There was nowhere to go but out the door into the parking lot where Bradley had been found. She hit the door at a dead run, and slammed her face and shoulder into it. Locked.
She fumbled the keys out of her bag, found the right one, and shoved it into the lock.
Footsteps pounded behind her. Mark was almost on her. “You’re dead now.”
Finally opening the lock, she shoved through the back door into the parking lot.
The door didn’t even fall all the way shut before an irate Mark shouldered through and stopped in the doorway, holding the door open with his foot. “Stop right there.”
She did as he said. Even though there were several cars and a new dumpster in the lot, she’d never make it to any of them before he could pull the trigger.
“Hands up.”
She slowly raised her hands.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
She turned toward him, keeping her hands in sight. “Does the easy way involve you not killing me?”
“Nope. But it can be a lot less painful if you give us what we want.” He sniffed and swiped at the tears tracking down his face. Unfortunately, she hadn’t managed a direct hit.
She nodded. She had no clue how she’d get the information they wanted, but she had no intention of dying in the parking lot behind her café, a mere twenty feet from where Bradley had been found.