A Cuppa Trouble, Page 2

  Would it be suspicious if she plugged her nose while sipping? Possibly.

  Connor owed her big time.

  With a deep breath, Tandy closed her eyes, curled her toes, and sipped the most…the most…the most satisfying drink she’d ever tasted. Rich. Silky. Liquid pleasure. Like crème brûlée in a cup.

  It was that good.

  Could Marissa’s morning get any worse? First, she’d slipped in a puddle, then she stupidly agreed to try on a jumpsuit that resembled a paper bag, and now, Tandy was acting like their product didn’t matter. Granted, Marissa would have thrown away the coffee herself, but Tandy was supposed to be selling the stuff. Would she continue to be this wasteful?

  Speaking of waste, Marissa’s little white paper bag that she’d given to George with a crumpet inside still sat on the counter. She’d agreed to try on the jumpsuit only if he tried the crumpet, but he hadn’t kept his end of the bargain.

  The bell over the door chimed, and she looked up in hopes George had returned.

  Randon trudged in, his thick eyebrows low over dark, brooding eyes. Obviously, he wasn’t having a good day either. Oh yeah. The Corvette.

  “Hello, Randon.” Marissa stuffed the jumpsuit behind the counter next to where she’d hidden the ugly boots Connor had given her as an early Valentine’s gift. She didn’t want Randon to see it and ask questions. She would have preferred not to speak to him at all since he was more likely to order coffee than tea—and because of their almost fateful date last Christmas. But Tandy was busy trying to talk Billie into ordering a Mexican Mocha under the argument that since Billie liked cinnamon in her apple cider then she’d also enjoy cinnamon with coffee. When Marissa got a second, she’d brew a cup of orange spice tea for Billie, and the woman would vow her allegiance forever. But at the moment, she had to make a similar offer to Randon. “Can I get you anything?”

  Randon scraped a chair against the wood floors then landed in it with a thunk. “Can you get my car back?”

  Marissa frowned. Why was he asking her about his car? “I can’t, but Jumpsuit George can.”

  Randon studied her out of the corner of his eyes. “Why do you think that?”

  Marissa tapped her chin. Maybe Randon didn’t know George had found his car. “Because that’s what George does when people get their cars stuck in snow.”

  Randon swiveled to face her. “My car isn’t stuck in snow. My car was stolen.”

  Stolen. The word and its implications echoed through Marissa’s mind. Her lips parted. “Oh.” Her heart trilled. Did this mean what she thought it meant? “Jumpsuit George just stopped in for coffee after picking up your Corvette. He thought you abandoned it.”

  Randon jumped to his feet. “George was here? With my car? Is it okay?”

  Marissa blinked, shook her head, and pointed out the window. “He parked around the corner. You didn’t see him?”

  Randon sprinted toward the door. “I came in the other way—from the police station.”

  Wow. Marissa had helped crack another crime. On her first day of business. She could see the headline now, Tea Shop Owner Serves Solved Mysteries. It could really boost her sales.

  “I’m coming too.” She grabbed the bag holding her crumpet off the counter and ran outside after him. She needed to be there when the news reporters showed up. Maybe they’d even get a photo of George eating her pastry. “Wait, Randon.” Running in snow was not one of her talents.

  Thankfully, Randon paused at the corner.

  Her foot slipped twice, but she caught up to him without further incident…until she followed his gaze. Then her heart plummeted.

  Not only was Randon’s Corvette missing from the back of the tow truck, but George lay motionless in a mound of bloody snow.

  Had their very first customer been murdered?

  Chapter Two

  Marissa burst back into the overly warm shop, her mind a blur of words she couldn’t express. The growing crowd stared in expectation.

  Tandy arched an eyebrow. “George didn’t like the crumpet?”

  If only. Marissa shook her head. She now had the right words to say, but she didn’t want to say them. She didn’t want them to be true.

  Connor sipped his tea lazily in the loft above. “I’m sure your biscuits aren’t that bad, hon.”

  She couldn’t let their casualness continue. Not when she’d called Sheriff Griffin from Randon’s phone, and the place was about to be surrounded by an ambulance and police cars. Most likely the coroner too, though Randon was still outside, trying to resuscitate the tow truck driver with CPR.

  She shivered, suddenly cold despite the way she’d been burning up. “I think George is dead.”

  Tandy gasped. “From your—”

  “No.” Marissa closed her eyes in hopes of erasing the image of the man’s blood. “It looked like he slipped and hit his head.”

  Tandy covered her mouth. Billie sank into a chair. Connor tromped down the stairs and wrapped his firm arms around her before she even realized he was there.

  He pressed his lips to her temple. “This is why I bought you boots with better traction.”

  She was too saddened to point out that the boots Connor had bought her were a crime in themselves. Not that it mattered at the moment.

  Sirens wailed in the distance.

  A lump formed in Marissa’s throat. She swallowed. “Randon’s car is missing from the back of George’s tow truck.”

  Connor pulled away to peer down at her face. “You mean it was stolen?”

  Marissa met his gaze and bit her lip.

  Tandy circled the counter to join them. “So George might have slipped when giving chase, or…?”

  Marissa winced. “Or.”

  Connor took a deep breath, his chest pressing against her.

  Emergency vehicles pulled to the curb outside the window, their flashing lights eerie in the dim morning light.

  Tandy ran her hands over her face. Her eyes reappeared, their usual fire dulled by grief. “Did George have any family?”

  Billy wiped at a tear. “He lived alone, but he was very loved.”

  Marissa had always enjoyed their visits. Even when he teased her about spilling tea on her clothes. “He has a niece in college. She comes to visit sometimes, but his employees are his family.”

  The front door swung open. The sheriff she’d once babysat stood there with his buzz cut, soft cheeks, and an authority he hadn’t yet earned. Marissa and Tandy had actually solved his last case for him, but then the previous sheriff went and retired, so the kid got to pin a gold star to his shirt. “I don’t want anyone leaving until questioned.”

  Marissa grimaced. She’d been questioned before. At least this time she wasn’t a suspect. She’d do everything she could to help. Even if that only meant brewing more tea.

  She pulled away from Connor and stepped behind the counter to dig out her jar of chamomile tea leaves. They would help soothe nerves.

  Tandy joined her, refilling a filter with her pungent coffee grounds.

  The thought crossed Marissa’s mind that the caffeine in coffee would make everyone more nervous, but at the moment she didn’t have the heart to point out the error of Tandy’s ways. If Marissa hadn’t been so focused on their silly rivalry earlier, she might have paid more attention to George. She might have put on his ugly jumpsuit, causing him to linger in their shop a little longer. He might have stayed safe.

  “I should have put on the jumpsuit.”

  Tandy lowered her bag of beans and squeezed Marissa’s arm. “It’s not your fault. None of us knew Randon’s car was stolen. We didn’t know there were car thieves in town. And even if we did, we didn’t steal the car. We didn’t hurt George.”

  Marissa sighed. It was good to hear her friend defend her, but words couldn’t keep her from feeling the pain of all life’s what-ifs.

  Tandy dug a fist into her hip. “We need to buy a security camera.”

  Sheriff Griffin planted himself on the other side of the counter, eyes s
harper than the stylus he used to make notes on his phone. “Billie installed security cameras recently, so we’ll be able to check her footage. It won’t have a clear view of George’s tow truck, but we could possibly see the perp coming or going.”

  A feather of hope tickled inside Marissa’s chest. Hope for justice. Though there was nothing just about George’s death.

  The bell over the door chimed. In breezed a middle-aged man wearing a blue FBI jacket over a tie. He might have been considered handsome if not for the rows of wrinkles under his V-shaped receding hairline. Thankfully, his critical gaze landed on Sheriff Griffin before it reached Marissa. He pulled out a piece of gum and stuck it in his mouth as he strode toward them.

  The town sheriff cleared his throat twice. His chin puckered.

  The FBI guy extended a hand. “Agent Nathan McNeil. I’ve been assigned to the car theft ring, and I’ll be joining your investigation.” His voice came out smooth and deep despite the wad of gum in his cheek.

  “Agent McNeil?” Griffin added unnecessary pump action to their handshake. “It’ll be an honor working with you. We had a murder right here last year, and I was able to track down the killer.”

  That wasn’t how Marissa remembered the story. She glanced at Tandy who had her lips pressed firmly together, likely to hold back one of those witty retorts that had previously gotten her into trouble with the law.

  Griffin continued. “With the both of us on this case, we’ll have the perps behind bars in no time. I’ve been questioning witnesses who last saw George Knibbs, and we can also retrieve a surveillance video from the antique shop across the street.”

  Billie stood. “I’m not really sure how my surveillance system works. I better go call my son. He set it up for me.”

  McNeil nodded his curt approval.

  Connor walked with Billie toward the door, a protective hand on her back. Probably asking if she wanted him to accompany her. He was sweet like that.

  McNeil didn’t care to watch the exchange. His scrutiny remained on Marissa and Tandy. “You two are the women who solved the Virginia Pierce case, correct?”

  Well, then. The FBI guy knew his stuff. Bad for Griffin, good for George.

  “Yes,” Tandy said.

  Marissa nudged her with a shoulder. She didn’t see the need for making the joint investigation harder on their local sheriff. Of course, Griffin hadn’t once mistakenly arrested her. “We helped a little,” she amended.

  Tandy nudged back with equal force, except with Marissa, being a clumsy woman in heels, it was enough to tip her sideways. She caught herself on the counter and sheepishly regained her balance—a little farther away from Tandy this time.

  Griffin narrowed his eyes in warning as if he thought she was goofing around to make him look bad.

  Connor returned from walking Billie to the door, read Marissa’s emotions, crossed his arms, and monitored the law enforcement officers.

  McNeil never wavered from his intense study of her and Tandy. “I hope you can help this time.” Deepening forehead wrinkles told her he had doubts. “What all did you see when you found Knibbs?”

  Marissa took a deep breath before diving into her memories. What had she seen? It had been such a shock. “I…I saw George face down on the ground. There was blood, and Randon’s car was gone, so I immediately assumed foul play. I don’t remember anything else that would make me think that.”

  “Did you see…?” Griffin started in the small-town pace he was used to.

  “Anybody else around?” McNeil snapped the question out faster.

  “…anyone else?” Griffin finished.

  Seeing the two trying to work together reminded Marissa of when she’d first joined forces with Tandy. Hopefully the law enforcement officers would also be able to balance each other out and become stronger as a team.

  Marissa wracked her brain for clues. She reimagined the murder scene, though everything around George’s lifeless form blurred in the background. Needing to calm her nerves, she reached blindly for the rest of the tea Connor had brought down from the loft earlier. She sipped the relaxing liquid.

  A thought flitted through her mind. She focused to catch it like a butterfly in a net. It evaded her reach. She swiped again. So close. There it was. Yes. She knew what bugged her…

  She stared at the cup in horror. She hadn’t been drinking tea at all. The bitter dregs of coffee clung to her tongue. She must have grabbed Billie’s cup by mistake. Though it really didn’t taste like cinnamon.

  “What?” Griffin demanded.

  “What is it?” McNeil’s tone bordered on cynical.

  She looked up, knowing her answer would disappoint the others even more than herself. “I just drank coffee.”

  Tandy rubbed at the dull ache in her temples. It had been a long day. At least Marissa had been too out of it to realize she’d been drinking the coffee Tandy had secretly prepared for Connor. Her poor partner didn’t need any more worries than that of being the first witness on a murder scene.

  Marissa had a weird way of dealing with the stress though. She’d gone into overdrive, serving all their customers with the speed of Lightning McQueen. Unfortunately, it wasn’t only her swift service that brought in more customers than expected on their first day.

  The news of George’s death had spread. The whole town turned up to hear firsthand what had happened, share in the mourning, and offer their own conspiracy theories.

  Randon had been the worst. Even though the coroner left with George’s body hours ago and both Griffin and McNeil had gone to the police station to analyze data and write reports, the hipster remained in their shop. He Googled car theft on his tablet as if he thought the FBI needed his help.

  Tandy peeked over his shoulder to read an old article of a busted Ohio car theft ring where a group of men were caught breaking open the little black boxes that held keys at an auto dealership. Did auto dealerships still use those little boxes? She didn’t know about that, though she did know automotive designers were constantly working to improve their anti-theft devices—a career that provided good job security since thieves were only ever a year or two behind in technology.

  She knew this because her ex had chosen said job security over their relationship and relocated to Toledo. Of course, if he hadn’t, Tandy never would have moved to Grace Springs. She never would have started her shop with Marissa or reconnected with Greg.

  She glanced at her watch. Greg should have gotten off work a while ago. She didn’t need support the way Marissa needed Connor comforting her in the kitchen while she baked, but it would have been nice if Greg had stopped in to check on her.

  Tandy closed her eyes, ashamed of herself. She’d give Greg some of that grace she’d been learning about and assume he was stuck at work. He was, after all, an attorney. Another career with great job security that left her alone most of the time. Hmm…

  Randon grunted. “These can’t be the kind of thieves we’re dealing with. My car is vintage and privately owned.”

  Tandy wasn’t as alone as she wanted to be. She opened her eyes to get as far away from Randon as possible. The guy seemed more worried about his vehicle than the man who’d lost his life trying to tow it for him. She huffed and sent his stupid little screen a parting glare then—

  She stopped. A name in the article snagged her attention. She refocused right as Randon scrolled to another screen.

  “Wait. Go back.”

  “What? Why?”

  She pointed. “I think I saw a familiar name.” Could it be?

  Randon moved his hand around the screen like a magic wand and the story reappeared.

  Tandy scanned the article. No names. Maybe she’d been mistaken. Unless…

  She lifted her fingers to the smooth surface and shifted the story sideways. There. The last line on the bottom of the bold list of culprits read: George Knibbs.

  Randon leaped to his feet. “George wasn’t saving my car. George stole my car. Call Agent McNeil.”

  Tandy cri
nged. She wished she’d found this information on her own. Now it would be used like ammo from the loose cannon that was Randon.

  “Hold your fire.” She raised a hand. “If George wanted to steal your vehicle, he wouldn’t tow it here then come in and tell us about it. He didn’t even know it was stolen.”

  Marissa bustled over. “Why do you think George stole it?”

  Connor followed, his arms wide behind Marissa as if spotting a gymnast on the balance beam. Once she arrived safely, he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  Randon held up his tablet. “George went to jail in 1996 for stealing cars. That’s too much of a coincidence.”

  Marissa cleared off the table next to them, seemingly unable to stand still. “I’m not so sure. It was a long time ago. He’s been here for years, and there haven’t been any other thefts that I know of.”

  Connor tilted his head. “You have to admit, it would be awfully ironic if he gave up his life of grand theft auto only to get killed by a car thief.”

  “I would use the word tragic.” Marissa balanced a few too many mugs in one hand and plates in another.

  Tandy agreed with the word tragic. It would also be a tragedy if Marissa broke all their dishes in her grief. Tandy reached to take some of the mugs and prevent any more disaster on their first day of business.

  Connor emptied her other hand.

  Marissa whirled, as if looking for something else to do. “Take it to the police if you want, Randon. I’m really busy here.”

  Connor lifted his eyebrows at Tandy. “I’ll stay here with her if you want to go with Randon.”

  Tandy shot him a tight smile. “We could just call Griffin.”

  “Oh no.” Randon pressed buttons on his tablet to take a screenshot. “I have to show this to the Feds. And we don’t want to interrupt the investigation by making them come here again. It’s only a few blocks away. I don’t need you to go with me, Tandy.” He grabbed his bright orange pea coat and fingerless gloves.

  Tandy stood her ground, daring Connor with her eyes. What reason could he possibly have for wanting her to babysit the millennial?