Chapter 15
Reno pulled up at Buns ’N’ Roses to drop off Grace.
“Have a good day,” she told him as she opened her door.
“It’s already a great day because I made my two favorite girls smile this morning.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop to think about them.
Grace paused for a heartbeat in the act of getting out, then continued. She mumbled a goodbye and went inside.
As always, he watched the security camera app on his phone to make sure she was safe before he left.
She was in the kitchen, tying on a frilly pink apron. She pulled proofing trays out of frig, and put butter in the microwave to melt. While it ran, she turned and walked over to the corner where the inside camera was mounted. He frowned. Was something wrong?
She looked up, right into the camera, and blew him a kiss.
Reno froze, watching blankly as she brushed melted butter on rolls. He did a quick inventory.
Hands: Not dropping phone. Not shaking.
Throat: tight.
Stomach: knotted.
Chest: not breathing.
Breathe, you idiot. Don’t pass out in your truck on Main Street.
Knee: silent. Even the knee.
He’d been kissed in his life, even by some women who really knew what they were doing.
But he’d never, in thirty-three years on this earth, been blown a kiss through a security camera by an angel on Earth who had a daughter and a dead husband and a stalker, and who hadn’t flinched while he laid out the worst thing he’d ever done.
It was the best kiss he’d ever gotten. And he hadn’t even been in the same room with the woman who gave it to him.
The auto shop smelled like motor oil and yesterday’s coffee. The garage doors were rolled down against the spring chill, and the morning sun coming through them made stripes on the concrete floor. Boone had Reno’s coffee waiting on the front hood of the Mustang.
Reno picked up the mug, propped up the Mustang’s hood, and stared at the alternator he should replace but was too distracted to pull out.
Instead, he gazed at the bakery across the street.
Mary’s hatchback pulled up and parked. A delivery van he didn’t recognize was at the corner down the street, and then it wasn’t.
From behind him, Boone said, “I need to talk with you about Mary.”
That got his attention.
Boone leaned against the Mustang’s fender sipping coffee. He didn’t look at his watch or his phone, which meant he had time, which meant the next thing he said was going to be worth listening to.
“Mary’s hasn’t said a word to Charlotte about her sister for almost a full week, now.
That’s not normal. Mary always leads with her sister.
My sister said. My sister thinks. My sister and that boyfriend of hers.
” Boone looked toward the bakery. “Then, yesterday, Mary came in here to drop off some rolls Charlotte ordered. She asked me if I’d noticed anything strange going on around Grace’s place.
I told her I’d noticed plenty of strange things going on around Grace’s place . . . and she didn’t ask me what.”
“She didn’t ask?” Reno echoed, startled.
“Nope.” A pause. “Now, why do you suppose that is?”
Reno set his coffee down. “She’s afraid of the answer.”
Boone nodded. “That would be my read, too.”
Reno couldn’t believe he was saying the words, but he asked quietly, “Do you think Mary’s involved with the harassment? She does have a key to the place. And her sister works for another bakery.”
Boone considered the question. “I don’t see her doing it on purpose.
She loves Grace. Has worked for her since the bakery opened.
But the sister . . .” He shrugged. “I don’t think Mary intentionally tells the sister anything important.
But I could see the sister asking her questions Mary doesn’t realize are fishing for information. ”
“Such as?”
“Who’s come into the bakery to talk with Grace about catering a party or a wedding? What time does Grace usually leave the bakery? Does Grace ever talk about the new bakery in Apple Pie Creek?”
“Huh.”
“Mary’s not stupid. I think she’s put together her sister’s questions, her answers, and the bad things that are happening to Grace.”
Reno nodded. “The not-talking-about-her-sister is the tell.”
Boone finished with, “Mary’s done the math and thinks her sister’s involved in the harassment. She just doesn’t know what to do with the answer.”
Reno took a slow breath. “She needs to tell Grace.”
“Yeah, she does.”
“Will she?”
“Maybe. In her own time. Charlotte says Mary’s notoriously stubborn. If we try to question her or push her to tell Grace, she’ll dig in her heels and refuse to say a word.”
“Cooper needs to know, now.”
“Then tell Cooper.” As Boone headed for the office, Reno pulled out his phone and texted Cooper. Got a minute?
The reply came back inside thirty seconds. You at the Mustang?
Yep.
Cooper replied, There in twenty.
Cooper rolled into the bay twenty-two minutes later in his own truck, not a squad car, wearing civilian clothes and a baseball cap. So. He didn’t want to look like a deputy standing across the street from the bakery, did he? Fair.
Reno told him about Mary’s sister, Mary’s recent and unusual silence, and his and Boone’s read on what it meant. Cooper listened intently without interrupting.
Then he said merely, “Noted. I’ll look into it. And my read’s the same as yours.” Cooper looked at him a beat longer than necessary, then said, “I had a long night last night.”
“Do tell.”
“Curtis Marchand slipped out the back way from his mother’s place again last night. Apple Pie PD discreetly tailed him to this side of the lake and handed off the tail to me.”
“And?”
“He drove by the bakery real slow, headed over to Lily’s preschool to make a drive-by, drove past the cottage, then drove home.”
“He’s casing locations for another hit of some kind,” Reno bit out.
“Seems so.”
“At least we know whatever he’s planning is probably going to happen at night,” Reno said grimly.
“Likely, but not guaranteed. He may have spotted the daytime surveillance on the bakery and pre-school and just be doing his casing when he thinks no cops will be around.”
Reno took a slow breath. “Can’t we find something to arrest this guy on? Get him into custody?”
“Patience, Counselor. You know we’ve got to have probable cause to pick him up.”
Reno huffed. Sometimes following the law was a pain in the butt.
Cooper shot him sympathetic look. “I know how freaked out I was when some kids tried to frame Rose’s son for a crime I knew he didn’t commit. Let our investigation take its course, Reno. Slow, steady, methodical police work catches more criminals than flashy, premature action.”
“My head knows you’re right. My heart’s another matter.”
“I get it.” A pause. “The good news is Curtis doesn’t know we found the back way out of his mother’s place. He wouldn’t have used it again last night if he’d spotted our surveillance on it.”
“Can we put a tracker on his vehicle?” Reno asked.
“You know I’d need a warrant for that. Everything I’ve got on Curtis is hearsay and circumstantial. No judge will give me a warrant based on it.”
“Yeah. I know.” Reno banged his fist down on the Mustang’s fender. “This is so danged frustrating!”
“I was on the phone with Apple Pie PD when you texted me. They let me know Tara Marchand visited a law firm in Bozeman yesterday. Civil-suit shop, mostly trade-litigation work, divorces on the side. When I got off the phone with them, I told Clint. Turns out he fishes with a guy who works at the Bozeman firm, and he called his buddy. Had an off-the-record conversation. Tara Marchand is planning to sue Grace for unfair business practices. She’s accusing Grace of stealing her customers. ”
“Tough to steal her customers when Grace had never heard of Tara Marchand a week ago.”
“I know that. You know that. The accusation doesn’t have to be true to function as the front end of a lawsuit. It just has to give the plaintiff cover to drown the defendant in legal fees until the defendant sells, settles, or runs out of money.”
Reno said tightly, “Do I have your permission to share this with Grace?”
“As long as she knows it’s confidential information that’s part of an ongoing police investigation and she can’t share it with anyone else. And I mean anyone. Not even the other WoWS. You know how gossip travels in this town.”
“All right. I’ll talk with her tonight. And I’ll get to work on response paperwork. Can you get me a copy of the complaint the minute it gets filed? I’ll need to file a notice of appearance the same day. Her law firm will probably amend the caption the second they realize who’s representing her.”
Cooper looked at him a beat. Then his face visibly relaxed. “You’re going to represent her?”
“I am.”
Cooper murmured under his breath, “Praise the Lord.” Then, “That law firm in Bozeman isn’t going to know what hit it.”
“That’s the plan,” Reno said grimly.
“I’m glad to see you get back on the horse. By the way, I made a few calls to Houston, and I hear you’re a sight to behold in a courtroom. Is it true you never lost a case?”
“It is.”
“Welcome back.”
“Don’t celebrate yet,” Reno replied.
“Still. I’m going to enjoy seeing what you do to Mrs. Marchand and her lawsuit.”
Cooper drained his coffee and flicked the cup into Boone’s recycling bin. He clapped Reno on the shoulder on his way past and didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.
Reno stood at the front fender of the ’68 with both hands flat on the engine block for a minute after he’d gone. His belly was doing literal flips in his gut.
He waited for the accusing voice that had lived in his head for three years to say something damning about him doing this. In fact, he waited a long time for it to speak up.
It didn’t.
It stayed silent, the way it had been since he’d told Grace everything.
He picked the wrench up. Set it down.
He shut the hood and drove over to Hank’s.