Midnight Witness (Parker’s Landing #2)

Chapter 1

Mina

Blood whooshed in my ears, my heart thundering against my ribs.

This was it.

Inhaling a deep breath, I tried—and failed—to steady my hand as I lifted a silver key to insert it into the back door lock of what would be the expansion to my little coffeeshop, The Cozy Cup. After months of planning and waiting, it was finally mine.

No thanks to the ridiculous Miranda Benning.

Someone needed to take her real estate license away.

I don’t know how she sold any properties.

She was a sneaky, underhanded, lying witch.

Thank goodness for Claire, my best friend and realtor.

She’d read through every iteration of the contract to make sure Miranda didn’t try to slip in a clause somewhere that wasn’t agreed upon.

It only happened once, early in the process, but it was enough to keep us on our toes.

But it was over, and I didn’t have to deal with her anymore.

I wouldn’t have at all if it weren’t for the fact that I needed this building.

Since it was already attached to my coffeeshop, it was perfect for my expansion plans.

I could stay open for most of the renovation and not have to move all my equipment to another location.

The key scraped the doorknob as I inserted it. With a quick twist, the lock clicked, and I opened the door.

Mustiness and the smell of years of dirt hit me as I stepped inside.

Wrinkling my nose, I shut the door, then wandered deeper into the back room. I felt along the wall for the switches I remembered seeing when I toured the building, flipping them on when I found them.

Bright, fluorescent light flooded the space, giving the dingy interior no place to hide.

My shoulders slumped at the sight that greeted me. Mr. Shuman hadn’t emptied the building’s contents like he said he would.

At least, not back here, anyway.

Old paintings and rusted signs lined one wall. I hoped there were no more in the front of the store or in the basement. This place had been an antique store before Shuman retired late last year and decided to sell.

My gaze moved over the rest of the space. It really wasn’t too cluttered. Other than the paintings and signs, there was only a dusty desk in one corner. But it was covered in suspicious little brown pellets and bits of paper.

Great. A mouse problem.

I heaved a sigh. First thing on the list after I met with the contractor today was to hire an exterminator and make sure there weren’t any four-legged friends currently in residence.

Or six-legged ones, for that matter. The health inspector would not like that, and it would have to be rectified before any work occurred.

Once we knocked down the wall to connect the two spaces, anything over here was fair game for the coffeeshop.

Walking through the back room, I headed for the swinging door that led to the main store, flipping light switches on as I passed through.

A bit of weight lifted off my shoulders when I saw that most of the displays were empty. I would have preferred for everything to be gone, but hauling out display cases and a few paintings was much better than removing all the small antiques and furniture that had been here just a few months ago.

But still, item two on the agenda was to get a dumpster and to have a small sidewalk sale with all this stuff. While the display cases were in decent shape, I couldn’t use them. It might have actually been better if he’d left the furniture. At least some of that had been tables and chairs.

I wandered closer to the art leaning against the wall as one particular piece caught my eye. It fit the nature theme I wanted to put in the café. I’d have to leaf through all the prints and canvases Shuman left behind and see what I could use.

The soft creak of the back door’s hinges, then the thud of a heavy boot hitting the pine floor of the back room, brought my head up. It sounded like the contractor had arrived.

Changing direction, I headed for the rear of the store to greet Les Decker, the local contractor I’d hired for the renovations. He’d done the coffeeshop renovations when I opened five years ago, so when I decided to expand, he was one of the first people I called.

But it was not Les who stepped through the swinging door.

My eyebrows drew together, and my step faltered as I stared warily at the tall, fit, and rather handsome man holding a storage clipboard and a pen.

“May I help you?” I clutched the building key in my fist, turning it so it stuck out like a poker. I was not above stabbing him if he tried anything funny. I would give zero fudgesicles about marring his pretty face.

A wide smile brightened his face, and a touch of amusement entered his eyes under the swath of wavy, golden brown hair hanging down on his forehead.

He raised a hand. “I’m Luke Decker, Les’s son.

You can put the claws away.” He tipped a finger toward my hand and the key clutched between my knuckles.

Heat suffused my cheeks. I knew they were probably growing red, and I hoped my makeup could hide that fact.

I let my fingers relax and straightened my spine, bringing me to my full five-foot-three height. “This might be Parker’s Landing, but I’m still a woman alone. Excuse me for defending myself.”

Some of the amusement faded from his expression. His head bobbed once. “My apologies. Let’s start again.” He held out a hand. “I’m Luke. It’s nice to meet you.”

Blowing out a soft huff, I stepped forward to take his hand. “Mina Kensington. You too.”

His warm palm enveloped mine. Strong, calloused fingers gripped my hand. When he let go after a quick shake, those roughened digits slid over my skin like delicious sandpaper.

Spicy tingles raced up my arm.

A curious gleam in his gray eyes had me wondering if he felt it too.

Mentally, I rolled my eyes at myself. Yeah, right. He probably just noticed my awkwardness.

Clearing my throat, I shifted and clasped my hands, letting the cool metal of the building key bite into my palm. “So, how come you’re here and not your dad? I was expecting him, and he didn’t say anything about sending someone in his place.”

Fine lines appeared on Luke’s face, making me question just how old he was. Initially, I pegged him for his early to mid-twenties, but those lines said differently. So did the sage maturity now written on his expression.

“Dad, um…” Luke paused and cleared his throat. “He had a heart attack the other day.”

“Oh my goodness!” Any wariness I still felt over this stranger’s appearance evaporated, and a different sort of wariness took hold. A pit formed in my stomach, and I sent up a silent prayer that Les Decker was still alive. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Is he doing all right?”

“Yes. He’s been transferred to the cardiac rehab side of things at the medical center. Hopefully, he’ll be home in a week or two. It wasn’t a mild heart attack, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, either.”

The tension in my shoulders abated. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

“Me too. It was…” Luke shifted on his feet and took a deep breath. “It was scary.”

“I bet.” I could only imagine how he felt. My parents were both in great health and living out their dream on the family homestead near Hoonah.

“In any case, he was adamant the business didn’t shut down during his recovery. Somehow, I let him convince me to add project manager to my duties at the company.”

“What were your original duties?”

“I’m an architect.”

My eyebrows shot up. “How old are you?” Because now that he wasn’t frowning and the lines disappeared around his eyes, he once again looked like he was barely old enough for the ink to be dry on his university degree.

“Twenty-six.”

And just like that, I felt old. At thirty-two, I knew the age gap wasn’t huge, but somehow, it felt significant—like I had lived a lifetime in the six extra years I’d been on the planet.

“But don’t worry, Ms. Kensington. I’ve had my general contractor’s license since I was eighteen. I grew up helping my dad on jobs. He had a hammer in my hand before I could walk.”

The image that provoked brought a smile to my face. I could see Les doing that. He was extremely serious about his work, and it showed in the finished product.

“Well, that’s good. So, are you up to speed on what I’m looking for?” Les and I talked about it, but he’d yet to see the building. Today was supposed to be about coming up with a feasible plan for my ideas.

“Mostly. How about you walk me through the space and show me what you want? I’ll take some measurements and get started on the plans.”

“Sounds good.” I glanced around, deciding where to start.