by Jo Raven
I nodded. “I guess if I’m going to have my own security detail, he might as well be a hunky firefighter.”
“Oh, hunky,” Kennedy said, pulling me into his arms. “I like the sound of that.”
After a little quiet-time spent on the couch petting Wilbur and talking about random crap in order to distract ourselves from the elephant in the room, Kennedy drew a bubble bath for me. While I lay soaking in it, he got started on dinner.
Blackened catfish was on the menu, alongside a heaping pile of buttery garlic mashed potatoes and a small tossed salad. It was simple, and yet surprised the hell out of me because I loved every bite. “You are a god,” were my exact words as I finished off my meal.
Kennedy hadn’t corrected me. In fact, I think he took a certain amount of satisfaction in hearing that word applied to him. After polishing off a bottle of wine, I repeated the phrase several more times between the balcony, the back of the couch, and the bedroom where we finally fell asleep from pure exhaustion.
***
Monday morning began our new routine. Kennedy and I woke together, showered together, ate together, and went to work together. After reassuring us both that the place was clear of any and all danger, he left to run some errands with a promise to stop back in later.
“How is Operation Destroy Abby’s Freedom going so far? Are you two sick of each other yet?” Having left work early for a doctor’s appointment, Hope had stopped by for an impromptu lunch date request. Leaning her hip on the counter while I carved out brownie squares, she was serving as my entertainment until Ronnie returned from picking up deli sandwiches for his and Dexter’s lunch.
“It’s only been a couple days. We really haven’t had time to get sick of each other yet,” I replied. And I hoped we never would, but if anything could prove whether or not we were a good match, this would be it.
“I think it’s sweet how Ken is all possessive of you. I wish I had a man like him in my life.”
“You’ll find your guy soon enough,” I assured her. “Looking all fabulous in your skin-tight jeans.”
“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If this ass gets any fatter, it’s going to rip through these skin-tight jeans.”
“You have a lovely ass.”
“It practically has its own zip code, Abs.”
“Men like that, Hope. If I could switch with you, I would. Try carrying around no ass sometime,” I said, referring to my flat butt.
“Yours is perfect. Small, round, and perky. I’d switch with you in a heartbeat. Hey, change of topic, but have you had a chance to feel out any of Ken’s coworkers?”
Looking for a man was at the top of Hope’s list of priorities, right below losing twenty pounds and getting her nails done. “I haven’t been back to the station in a while, but I promise next time I will find out who’s on the market.”
With a deep sigh, Hope pinched off a corner of one of the brownie squares and tossed it into her mouth before I could slap her hand away. “How much longer do we have to wait? I’m starving, and if I have to sit here looking at this endless display of heaven, you’ll need a baseball bat to keep me from eating them all.”
Holding up a finger, I walked over and poked my head out of the kitchen. Seeing Ronnie back at his station, I flashed Hope an “OK” sign. “Ready to make a break for it?”
“Hellz yeah!” Hopping down from the counter, we breezed up to the register where Dex and Ronnie were ringing up a customer.
“Hey, hun. We’re going to be heading out for a bit. Since we’re coming up on the afternoon lull, I’ll flip the sign on the way out, and you two can take your break once the last customer leaves.”
“Okie dokie. Before you leave, where will you be eating and when will you be back?” Ronnie asked us casually, although there was nothing casual about the way his eyes held mine.
Tilting my head, I propped my hands on my hips. “Kennedy got to you, didn’t he?”
“You’re every move is to be noted and reported back,” Dex confirmed. “Failure to follow directions is punishable by a thorough beat down by the whole fire department. Apparently, you have fans.”
Fans? Me? But I… Oh. “They’re just protecting their own interests. If anything happens to me, the gourmet treats stop.” With a wave, I said, “Tell Kennedy that we’ll be at the diner next door and we’ll be back in an hour.”
Hope and I were just stepping onto the sidewalk when I came up against a wall of muscle. “Excuse us…Oh, hey.” My smile was instant. Seeing Kennedy standing there, dressed in faded jeans and a dark pullover, was a treat for sore eyes. Only a few hours apart and already I missed him.
Embracing me, he kissed the top of my head. “Hey, sweet. Hey, Hope. Where are you ladies headed?” He was being so polite, that I almost missed the strain in his voice.
“Don’t worry. We’re just going next door to grab a bite for lunch. I already turned in my itinerary with your hired goons.” I hitched my thumb at the bakery, so he knew I was referring to Dex and Ronnie.
“All right. Well, while you do that, I’m going to hang around a bit.”
At lunch, I confided in Hope about my inner worries. Things I didn’t want to burden Kennedy with. “I just don’t want him to think he has to hold me together, you know? The last thing I want to do is fall to pieces every time I think about the possibilities, and what purpose would that serve anyway? Except to make us both miserable.”
Stirring her hot chocolate, Hope did what best girlfriends did for each other. “I totally agree with you. There’s no point in crying over spilled milk.”
“Thank you.”
“But,” she continued. “There’s also no point in hiding your feelings from him. Kennedy obviously cares about you, so why not let him shoulder some of the burden? That’s what couples are supposed to do for each other.”
“All good points,” I agreed, “but everything is still so new. Wouldn’t that, like, jinx it if I just started dumping all my inner turmoil on him? Isn’t that the first step in running a guy off?”
“Only if that guy is a total creep.” Hope pushed her mug away and sat forward in her chair. “Look, if Ken were going to run at the first sign of trouble, he would have done it already, right? So give him the benefit of the doubt.”
“And if he runs?”
“Then he wasn’t worth your time in the first place. It’s better to find out now, than after your heart is invested.”
The problem was, it was already too late for that. “Yeah, I guess you have a point. I’ll think about it.”
“Do that.”
We spent the rest of our lunch talking about Hope’s latest project at work. As a design consultant, she was working on putting together a floor plan for a loft in downtown’s historic district. If she could pull it off, it would mean a healthy commission. I had the utmost faith in her ability.
By the time we exhausted all conversation, we’d run over our hour lunch. “I hope the boys aren’t too pissed,” I said as we settled our bill and headed out.
“You’re right next door. If they had a problem with it, they knew where to find you.”
Stopping outside the door to the bakery, I turned to Hope and gave her a big hug. “Thanks for coming out to spend time with me. I definitely needed it.”
“Me too. Girl time has been seriously slim lately, and I was in desperate need of my Abby fix.”
“Next time, we won’t wait so long to get together,” I promised. After we said our good-byes and parted ways, I felt as if a small weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
As I approached the shop, I noticed the sign on the front door had been flipped to ‘closed.’ Frowning, I tested the door and finding it unlocked, I pushed my way inside and flipped it back to ‘open.’ I was ready to scold the first person I saw for being so careless.
“Seriously? First the sign, and now this?” I muttered as I scanned the empty room. None of the guys were in sight. No one manning the counter. No one cleaning. The least they could do w
as pretend to be working.
Hearing a small noise in the back, I followed it. “Guys, come on. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and the ‘closed’ sign was up. Do I really need to tell you…” I stopped in my tracks, my words trailing off as I looked down, startled to find Ronnie on the storeroom floor, his arms and legs bound behind his back with plastic zip ties and his mouth covered in shiny silver duct tape.
Chapter 20
“Ronnie, oh my God!” Dropping to my knees, I ripped the tape from his mouth, and then started searching for something to cut the ties.
“Abby, get the hell out of here,” he whispered harshly.
“Are you crazy? I’m not leaving you behind!” Finding a box cutter on top of one of the shelves, I cut the tie from his wrists first. Sitting up, he grabbed the box cutter from me and set to work on the one around his ankles. “Where’re Dex and Ken?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see where he took them.”
“He who? Ronnie, what the hell happened?”
Standing, he talked fast as he began searching the shelves. “Right after you left, Kennedy came in. We were getting ready to take our break. Dex split his sandwich with him and we all sat down at one of the tables. We were talking when that guy showed up out of nowhere pointing his gun at us.” Horror shown in his green eyes. “I thought he was playing some kind of joke.”
“What guy? Did you know him?” Fear gripped me and I held my breath. Was Kennedy okay? Was Dex?
“The cop. The one that was here before. I don’t remember his name, but Dexter asked him if he knew one of the customers.” He shook his head in confusion. The next thing I knew, Ronnie was brandishing a broom over his shoulder like a weapon. “When I find that fucker, I’m going to beat the holy hell out of him.”
My head was spinning, and then, in a moment of clarity, it clicked. Grabbing onto his shirtsleeve, I pulled him back as he stormed past me. “Are you talking about Officer Findlay? The one who answered the call about the break-in?”
“The cocky asshole? Yeah, that’s the one. He came right in through the back door, Abby,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “I don’t know how he did it, because we changed the code. The only people who know it are you, me, Dexter, and the security company.”
The security company… That had to be how he was getting in. I was going to be sick. Cradling my stomach, I looked around for another weapon. “Do you think they’re still in the store?”
“I’m not sure, but I plan to find out. Don’t try to be a hero, Abby. Get out of here and make that call. I have a feeling we’re going to need back-up.”
As Ronnie disappeared through the door, I was left alone in the storeroom closet. Officer Findlay was the one who’d broken in, attacked Dexter, and set fire to my apartment? He was a jerk, I could agree on that, but as someone who’d taken an oath to protect and serve, could he really have done all of that? What was his motivation? Maybe Ronnie was mistaken. Maybe he hadn’t gotten a clear look at the guy, or maybe we’d gotten our information crossed. Either way, I couldn’t stand around and do nothing when three people, whose lives I cared about, were missing and possibly in trouble.
Taking a quick look in either direction, I raced back to the front of the shop and ducked behind the counter. Grabbing the house phone, I call the police like I’d been told, but there was no way I was going to jump ship and leave Ronnie behind.
After hanging up the phone, I crept back down the short hallway toward the back, checking the storeroom and bathroom first. Seeing that the back service door was hanging wide open, I debated on whether or not I should close it. If I left it open, the perp could escape, but if I closed it, we might not be able to.
It was a tough decision, but in the end, I closed the door. Then I changed the passcode. Whether he killed us or not, when the police got here, the perp would have no place to run. I could be signing our death warrant, or I could be signing his. Either way, we were all leaving through the same exit.
Still uncertain I had made a good decision, I stayed low as I silently made my way back toward the kitchen. If I were to rob a bakery, I figured my goal would be to commandeer the kitchen; but somehow, I didn’t think this guy was here for the donuts.
My initial scan of the room didn’t reveal anything suspicious. There were no armed gunmen, no blood, and no bodies. I almost breathed a sigh of relief, and then Officer Findlay stepped out of the freezer and every muscle in my body seized up.
Dressed in a pair of navy work pants and a matching button down crew neck shirt, he was clean shaven and resembled someone out for a casual stroll. But the snarl permanently etched on his face and the gun hanging down at his side told a different story. This was a man who was out for vengeance.
I thought back to my conversation with Mrs. Findlay, and how she alluded that her husband used to own the shop. She didn’t seem like the vindictive type or someone prone to holding grudges, but this guy? He struck me as exactly that type. The question was, who was he to Mrs. Findlay?
I watched from my hiding spot as Findlay walked behind the counter toward the ovens. His leg reared back, and I heard a dull thud followed by a pained moan. “You think you can come in here and take what doesn’t belong to you?” he shouted, pulling his foot back and kicking whoever was back there again.
Knowing there was no one else in the shop, it had to be one of my guys, and I felt the back of my throat burn at the idea of any of them being hurt over something they had nothing to do with.
“Where is that bitch? Tell me!” Findlay let his foot fly once more, and then bent down. When he came back up, his face turned red with strain as he backed toward the walk-in freezer. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the sound of clothing sliding against the hard floor and the low moaning.
Once he was inside the freezer and out of view, I took a chance and rushed into the kitchen, tucking myself into a compact ball behind a cart piled with discount boxes. I needed a plan, something that would get me closer without being noticed.
Voices carried from inside the freezer, but I couldn’t make out the words over the hum of appliances. In a moment of genius—or pure stupidity—I took hold of the cart and wheeled it closer, using it as a shield.
Luck was on my side today. In a dozen painfully slow steps, I made it close enough to the freezer to hear what was going on inside. Findlay was demanding to know where “The Bitch” was.
“You can scream and shout all day, but we’re not talking,” Kennedy answered, his voice sounding off.
“You will tell me.”
“And if I don’t?”
There was a tremendous explosion. It reverberated off the walls and up through the floor into my chest. I screamed, and then clapped a hand over my mouth. Oh my God. He’d shot Kennedy.
Yelling and confusion followed. Findlay was issuing more threats. Dex was throwing some right back. Ronnie was screaming, asking Findlay if he knew what he’d done. And then I heard Kennedy, loud and clear, over all the rest. Bless his heart, his smart mouth was still running, taunting Findlay.
“You can shoot everyone in this room. I guarantee someone out there is going to hear it. How are you going to explain this one to your pals down at the station when they drag you in there in handcuffs?”
“You don’t talk to me unless you’re asked a question, you hear me? You don’t talk!” Findlay’s voice was shaking with rage, and I knew, if Kennedy didn’t stop talking, something worse was going to happen.
“Fine, I won’t talk, but how are you going to get any answers?”
Dammit, I could almost hear Kennedy smiling. Did he want to get shot? Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes and tried to push all of my nerves down deep. This was no time to get a case of the shakes. People could die.
As calmly as possible, I stood up tall, abandoning my cover, and walked with purpose to the freezer opening. Findlay was cursing and gesticulating wildly, his gun waving around all over the place, but my attention wasn’t on him.
It was on Ronnie, wh
o’d been shot in the left thigh. Blood oozed through his fingers, and the agony twisting his face tore at my conscience. How could I let this happen? How could I allow my friends to get caught in the crossfire?
“If you want me,” I said, cutting off Findlay’s tirade, “here I am.”
He spun around, eyes crazed. Behind him, Kennedy paled, looking about as sick as I felt. But at least he didn’t have a gun pointed at him anymore. Although, I couldn’t say I felt any better about looking down the barrel of one myself.
That whole life-flashing-before-your-eyes deal was a lie. Time didn’t reverse itself in some dreamy montage. It slowed to a crawl, where every breath sounded like a vacuum between my ears, where every heartbeat crashed against my ribs. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I thought, this is it. This is how I die.
Then it all burst back into real-time, as if someone hit fast-forward on the DVD player.
“There you are. Finally decide to come out of hiding?” Findlay asked, deceptively calm even as he pointed the gun in my face.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, needing to know. If I was going to die tonight, then I wanted to know why.
“You just had to buy it, didn’t you? Do you even know what you cost me? I sunk my life savings into this place!”
I felt my face scrunch in confusion. “What are you talking about? The building was empty when I bought it.”
I stepped back as Findlay started laughing hysterically. “You stupid bitch. Didn’t you ever stop to ask yourself why a business that had been empty for two years was outfitted with all the latest equipment? Why all the permits were up-to-date?”
I had, but my agent explained that the previous owner was in the middle of renovations when it came on the market. There was no other story behind it. Nothing else to go on. All she knew was that it was the right size and in the right location. “You were the other bidder,” I whispered, my voice weak.
“Every penny. You cost me every penny!” The hand holding the gun shook the more he yelled, and I really grew nervous.