Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
AIDEN
A drenaline courses through my veins as I sprint across the street. Dark scenarios rush through my mind involving everyone from Puma to the Kravens.
From the front, Sweethearts looks perfectly normal with no signs of trouble. I take note of the cars parked on the street. No customers inside. The air carries the faint scent of smoke. I open the door, annoyed by the jingle altering my presence, and it gets stronger.
My eyes pin to the pair of glass heart windows in the doors. Instead of clear, they’re gray.
“Tinsley!” I shout.
“In here.”
“Get out of there,” I say as I bust into a wall of smoke, billowing in the air.
Her eyes are wide with fear and red from the smoke.
“What’s burning?”
“Brownies,” she squeaks.
“Go to the front, open the doors.”
She does as told as I wade through the smoke to the back and open the door. I flip all the switches on in case one of them belongs to an overhead fan. Creating some air circulation, I search for a fire extinguisher and have it at the ready when I open the oven door.
Instead of a blaze, I pull a very charred pan of brownies from the oven. It’s little more than ash. I toss the thing in the sink where it lands with a sizzle.
Meanwhile, my phone beeps repeatedly. I’d just been researching the Kravens and making connections to their corporation and the governor. Perhaps it’s one of my leads. I’ll have to ignore it for now.
Another fan sits on a shelf mounted to the wall, and I turn it on to help clear the place. A cross breeze works well to eliminate most of the smoke when I finally find Tinsley in the front. Her apron is in her fist and her eyes aren’t just red. She’s crying.
“Come on, let’s get you some fresh air.”
She shakes her head. “No, I ruined everything. Rhondy is going to fire me. I can’t do anything right.”
“It was an accident.”
“I set the timer for an hour and twenty minutes instead of twenty minutes.”
“Honest mistake.”
“No, Aiden, it’s my job. It’s simple. Teenagers can bake. Adult women. Grannies. I’m useless.”
I want to comfort her, tell her that it’s not true, but my phone continues to beep and now rings.
“Aiden, it’s me. Mae is having the baby,” Taylor shouts from the other end of the line.
My heart leaps. I grip Tinsley’s cheeks, give her a gigantic smoosh that I’d like to have turn into a kiss, then rush out the door. “Keep everything open until the smoke clears out. I’ll be back. Love you!” I holler.
Those last words only catch up to me when I park in front of the birthing center—a purple and green Victorian house with a ramp going up the side.
I love her . My breath shudders at the realization, but I know it’s true in every cell of my body. Every fiber of my being.
I take a deep breath and go inside. I can hide my job from my sisters. But no way can I keep love under wraps.
Inside, Bess and Cassian stand in the hallway. My sister scrunches her nose. “You smell like burned chocolate.”
“Yeah, uh, there was a brownies mishap.”
Bess huffs. “Don’t tell me it was Tinsley.”
I hold my tongue because this isn’t about her. “Where is Mae? How is she doing?”
“She’s having a baby. Mom and Dad got here last night.”
“I didn’t realize they’d left.” They’d come down to Butterbury around the due date and stayed at Mae’s. We’d been discussing house plans before I had to fly to LA. Admittedly, in the time since, I’ve been preoccupied with the case...and kissing Tinsley.
“Dad wanted to go to an airshow up north. I guess he said it’ll be his last one.”
I nod knowingly.
“Do you mean they’re really moving back down here?” Bess asks.
“Mae is luring them with a baby. I’m building them a house and—”
“And I’ll just...contribute some charm.” She shimmies.
“You always do, Bess.”
“Thanks,” she says as though disappointed she doesn’t have something better to offer. “Actually, I bet Mom would love to work a few days a week at the bakery.”
“Tinsley would appreciate that too.”
“What did she do?”
“We’ll talk about the brownies later. How’s our sister?”
“Mom is in there with her and Taylor too. Dad is getting some celebration pie from the Starlight.”
“Does that mean the baby is here?”
Bess’s gaze shifts to the side and she listens.
A baby’s cry splits the softly playing instrumental music from somewhere nearby.
“I’d say the answer is a yes.”
Despite my usual composure, the three of us jump up and down and hug.
Less than five minutes later, Dad is back. We exchange a greeting around a stack of pie boxes and paper plates. “Rhondy said she’ll be over later with dinner.”
Taylor ushers us into the room to meet our nephew. He’s small, pink, and has a shock of dark hair. Everything about him is tiny, precious. Perfect. My eyes mist over at the little miracle that just took place.
After we all dote on Mae, Taylor, and the baby, Mom and Bess pass out plates of pie. I take a bite, feeling full of love, life, and the faith that anything is possible.
From across the room, Mae says, “Aiden, you have a look on your face.”
Bess agrees. They all do.
“I’m in awe.” I tip my head toward the infant, resting in my sister’s arms.
“Yeah, but it’s something else.”
Bess wags her finger at me.
“I’m in love.”
“Yep. I knew it.” Mae exhales. “I warned her not to break your heart. Do not let her break your heart.”
“Take it easy, Mae Bae,” Taylor says.
Mae pushes to sitting. “I’m just saying if she so much as—”
“You already warned Tinsley,” Taylor adds.
“You warned her?” I ask, aghast.
“Just doing my sisterly duties.” She juts her chin defiantly.
I scrub my hand down my face. “Thank you, I guess.”
“You’re welcome.”
Taylor kisses his wife and son on the forehead then comes over to me when the ladybosses arrive.
“Did you have to pick Tinsley?” he asks in a low voice.
“I don’t think it was a matter of selection. It just happened, but if you’re uncomfortable with it, we can talk.”
“No, it’s not that. As mentioned, we never officially dated. I’m just worried that you won’t walk away unscathed.”
I almost roll my eyes. “I think I can handle it.”
Taylor’s expression wrinkles. “What about the, uh, ‘If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you’ situation?”
“Taylor, I don’t typically kill people. I’m a federal investigator.” I rub my temples.
“But does she know about your job and the case?”
“Oh. Uh, not yet.” Uncertainty pinches me inside. This far down the road, I’m not sure how to tell her without one of us getting scathed.
The pursed-lip look Taylor gives me suggests I may have a problem on my hands.
“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it. I always do.”
After we visit for a while longer and well-wishes filter in and out, Mom has everyone leave to give the new family some time to rest.
I exit into the hallway in a daze to find Tinsley standing there.
She holds a pastry box from Sweethearts. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Mae and Taylor have a healthy baby boy.”
“I made brownies.” Her smile wavers.
“That was so sweet of you.”
“I didn’t burn them.”
“And very responsible.”
“From now on, I’m going to do a great job at Sweethearts. Nearly burning the place down was a wake-up call. Rhondy came by in case I hadn’t heard about the baby, and I told her everything. I’d been on my phone, distracted when I set the timer. I wasn’t focused.”
I smoosh her cheek and am tempted to do the same on her lips, but she draws back.
“I don’t know why I’m here.”
“Is that an existential question?” I guide Tinsley toward the door and outside where there is a garden and bench. We sit down with a nice view of the town.
“You have a look on your face,” she says.
She’s got that right. I can’t tear my gaze from her.
“I just witnessed the meaning of life and realized something important.”
“Do you mean you witnessed the miracle of life?
“That too.” I turn to Tinsley and our knees bump. Taking her hands in mine, I say, “I know what I want. You. Us. A family.”
Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, her big brown eyes search mine.
When she still doesn’t reply, I say, “I’ll take a smoosh.”
Our lips collide and a smoosh quickly turns into a smooch which becomes a kiss. A long kiss where I pour my love into her. Love I want her to receive with open arms. Love that I didn’t know existed never mind the kind that I’d ever be lucky enough to feel.
I caress her jaw, rub the soft spot by her ear, and trace the nape of her neck with my rough fingers. I want to make every part of Tinsley mine, today, tomorrow, always. My heart races toward her. My pulse barely keeps up as the kiss deepens on this late spring morning when I finally have met my match.
When we part, Tinsley’s gaze searches mine. I’ve found what I’m looking for. I hope she has too. My chest swells and my stomach tumbles as I take her hand and kiss the back of it, an anchor as I prepare to take a risk.
“Tinsley, life is too short to live it lukewarm. I realize I have big, hot feelings for you.” I try not to smirk. “I’m wondering if you’d like to make this more official? I haven’t asked anyone this since high school, but I’m wondering if you’d like to be my girlfriend?”
“Your girlfriend?” she repeats as if it’s a foreign word or she expected me to say something else.
Doubt slinks in as seconds drip like a leaky faucet between us, taking my mojo with it. Then Tinsley leaps toward me, throwing her arms around my neck, clobbering me. She pulls back and then grips my cheeks with her hands before smooshing me again. “Yes, yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
“Really?”
“Really. Why do you seem so surprised?”
“For a second there, I wasn’t sure—”
Tinsley drops back and looks at her hands. “Believe it or not no one, not even in high school, ever officially asked me out.”
I shake my head. “Nope. I don’t believe that. I’ve seen your social media. You’ve, uh, had plenty of boyfriends.” And I’d like to knock out every single one of them. Then again, if they’d been half the gentleman she deserves, she wouldn’t be available.
“No, Aiden. No one ever officially asked me out like that. Sure, we’d go on dates and that would sometimes last for a few weeks or months, but not one of them ever said what you just did.”
“Really?” I repeat with a squint.
“Yes, really. Why is that so hard to believe?”
I wave my hand from her head to her toes. “Because you’re you.”
“Me with the big head and feet?”
“You don’t have a big head.”
“It’s hidden behind all my hair.”
Tinsley goes on to cite several more things she’s self-conscious about. I shoot down each one and follow it with a smoosh. Despite the silly name, I’ve come to understand the smoosh is a caress, a constant kiss, and one that remains there long after our lips part.
At last, she goes quiet, having exhausted her list.
“And now, I’m going to tell you all the things I love about you.” My list is twice as long. When I’m done, I wrap my arm around her and say, “Since neither one of us has officially done this before, we can call ourselves a work in progress.”
“And a baker in progress,” she adds.
“And a beekeeper.”
“Do you really think I can do it?”
“Tinsley, I bee-lieve in you.”
With her head resting in the nook between my shoulder and chest, I feel her smile lift her cheeks.
“No one has ever said that to me either.”
“Then you’ve been hanging around with the wrong people.”
“You got that right. You seem to really love your family.”
“That I do.”
“And this town.”
I nod then glance down before tipping up her chin so I can see her big brown eyes. “And you,” I add.
“You love me?”
“Mmmhmm.” When she doesn’t say it back, my heart sinks a little, but perhaps this is the first time she’s hearing it too. I have a feeling it has to do with her family, and I don’t want to press. But I do want to hold her in my arms for as long as she’ll let me.
Later that evening, I drop Tinsley over at Bubba’s family compound where she’ll meet his grandmother and learn about beekeeping. Meanwhile, I’m in my office, reviewing the latest bit of intel confirming a shell corporation linking the Kravens to Hydro-pro, an environmental organization that donated to Governor Pickering’s last campaign, and an offshore bank account under the name Cindy Clawford.
The dots are starting to connect, but I still cannot figure out exactly why the cat is involved only that she is or how she connects to Stoll. I followed my instincts and I was right, this bank account confirms it. But how? Why?
It’s been over a week since we’ve seen our good mayor. More like a grifter, but that’s beside the point. “Where are you, Stoll?” I whisper.
While Tinsley and I were sitting on the bench outside the birthing center, the vision of my life spread clearly before me like I was watching a movie. I’d like to finish the house, get married, and maybe work out a way to have a family. I’d retire from the agency and become mayor of Butterbury. I’d take care of my home, my family, and this town. That’ll be my legacy.
Thinking about it now sends a thrill through me.
I open an interdepartmental email from Harrison. He tells me Silas Fallon clocked out, code that the guy is dead. I lean back in my chair, hammocking my head.
Having dealt with the Kravens in the past, I know all too well that when people start disappearing and dying, they’re getting closer to closing whatever nefarious deal they have in the works. It also means that it’s only a matter of time before they find their way here, but why is still a question I can’t answer.
Over the next few days, I research Gatlin Stoll, which was where I should’ve started because I learn there are no long-term records for anyone by that name. He appeared a few years ago out of thin air. There are no traces of him prior to him running for mayor despite his grand claims of being a lifelong Georgia resident and a graduate of Georgia Tech along with a roster of achievements including being in the army reserves and helping to rebuild homes after flooding along the coast. However, none of those places have records of his attendance or participation.
Not only is the guy a grifter, but he’s also a swindler.
And I’m stupid for not researching his background, to begin with. Because he was elected mayor, I took him at his word, that he was who he said he was.
Interestingly, I repeatedly tie him to Gannon Barnes, Louella Belle’s lousy brother. He was arrested not long ago but before that, he was running scams in Las Vegas. Turns out, he was released from jail roughly the same time Stoll went to Atlanta.
I try to link Gannon and the Kravens, but they keep the identities of their lackeys locked up pretty tight. I have a dead-end feeling, but that’s not right. I’m overlooking something and it’s probably right under my nose.
The door to the bookstore downstairs jingles at the same time the cat arches her back, hisses, and runs under my desk. I peek down there and she cowers in the corner.
“You okay, Cindy?” I ask.
She looks at me with wide eyes.
I go to the window and see a black sedan pull out of the parking spot and then hurdle down the street. Locking up, I go downstairs to find Aggie snarling and muttering under her breath.
“Hey, Aggie. Everything okay?”
“Just a couple of thugs came in here looking for Stoll. Said he has bills to pay.”
My eyebrow spontaneously arches.
“I told them any money he owes comes to Butterbury first.”
“And rightly so. Anything else? Can you tell me what they looked like?”
“Sure. One was tall. The other short. One thick and the other thin. They both had dark eyes. Something wasn’t right about them.”
Sounds like the Kravens sent their bullies to play fetch. I rub my chin, thinking. What do they want with Stoll? Maybe he’s not missing. Perhaps he’s on the run.
“Aggie, if you see them again or anything suspicious, let me know right away.”
She salutes me as I rush out of the shop. Time to call an emergency meeting.
Instead of my office, the guys meet me at the Starlight. Not my first choice to discuss confidential information, but good enough.
Gathered around a booth, I tell everyone except Taylor, who is home with Mae, about the unwelcome visitors. Buck looks ready to pound someone’s face. Nash scowls. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bo organizes a vigilante group to patrol the town. As for Cassian, as usual, he’s calm, cool, and calculating. I know the gears in his mind turn with the same detail-oriented sophistication mine do. It’s down to our training and our nature—despite the fun-loving farm boy my friends and family know, I have another side that I’ve kept hidden since my original run-in with the Kraven brothers.
We discuss Stoll’s history and the holes I found in it.
“Come to think of it, he did just sort of appear,” Buck says.
Nash lets out a breath and his shoulders drop. “The rest of us weren’t here yet, so we didn’t know any different.”
“If I so much as see that man who claimed to be mayor—” Bo adds with the fierceness of someone who grew up in Butterbury and intends to guard it with his life.
“Remember, you’re speaking in the presence of a federal agent,” Cassian says in a low voice.
“True, but I appreciate your enthusiasm, Bo.”
“So Stoll faked his identity,” Buck says.
“There’s a chance he’s left a trail of scams in his wake, using fake names all along.” I just need a hint like in a crossword puzzle.
“Hey boys, looks intense over here. Everything okay?” Rhondy asks when she refills our drinks.
I take a sip of my sweet tea. “Yeah, just discussing Stoll.”
She grunts. “When he showed up, Paul said if that man becomes mayor, he has a bridge in Brooklyn he could sell. In other words, Stoll was a silver-tongued liar if ever we’d heard one. Talked a big game. And now where is he?”
“Exactly,” Bo says.
“Brooklyn Bridge,” I say lighting up.
“That’s a far click from here,” Rhondy says as she leaves to help another table.
“Yes, but legend has it that the phrase came about after a man sold the bridge twice along with Madison Square Garden and the Statue of Liberty. He’d falsify documents, create fake personas, and con country folk.”
The guys lean in, listening intently.
“So Gatlin may have pulled a similar scam but in reverse, faking his identity, going from town to town, and chasing down money.”
“Could be, but what about the cat?” Nash asks.
“That still has me stumped. Do you think the ladybosses would be up to join us for dessert?”
“Or we could bring it to them. They’re at HQ, planning a new product line,” Bo says.
We move the meeting next door and bring two kinds of pie for brainstorming: chocolate cream pie with chocolate crust and chocolate shavings and an apple caramel cinnamon swirl pie that has my mouth watering.
“What brings you boys up here?” Louella Belle asks.
To my surprise, Mae sits in a new rocking chair, nursing the baby. Taylor sets down a screwdriver next to a footstool he must’ve just assembled.
Hands on my hips, I announce, “I have something important to tell you.”
“Is it about Tinsley?” Mae asks, already sounding perturbed.
Bess says, “Yeah, where is she? You two have been inseparable.”
“And you’ve fallen in love.” Mae’s tone is flat then she adds, “I’m learning to accept it.”
“Good because she’s here to stay and so am I, no matter what you think about what I’m about to tell you.”
It’s as if everyone in the room holds their breath, even the guys who know what I’m about to say.
“Bess, Mae, there’s something about me you don’t know. Everyone, this is confidential and doesn’t leave HQ under threat of a town-wide pie ban when I become mayor.”
“You can’t become mayor. You were arrested.” Mae huffs.
“Officer Henley dropped the charges.”
“You stole a cat,” Bess adds.
“I rescued a cat and that’s what this is about.”
“That you’re a cat-kleptomaniac?” Christina asks.
The guys chuckle. My sisters do not.
“Listen, this is serious. I’m an FBI agent and have been on a case. I took the cat because she’s involved.”
This time the ladybosses laugh.
The guys and I remain silent, straight-faced.
“Wait, you’re not kidding,” Bess says.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mae asks.
I brace myself for her to throw something. “To protect you. There are bad people in the world. I might not come across as the thuggish brother who gets in your business, but I trust you both not to have knuckleheads in your life. There are enough in mine. My protection comes in a big picture kind of way.”
“But you didn’t trust us with the truth,” Mae says in a small voice.
“You might think that and I don’t blame you. I’m sorry if that makes you feel bad, but please trust me that I was working in your best interest.”
“And why tell us now? What changed?” Bess asks.
I don’t tell them that my life is at risk more so than it ever has been. The Kravens sent their thugs to Aggie’s bookstore, whether looking for Stoll or me, I have no idea. Surely the brothers won’t be far behind unless I crack this thing wide open before they have a chance to come after me.
“Because I need your help,” I say.
Mae straightens in her chair as best she can. “Oh. How so?”
I tell them about the case, leading up to learning about Stoll’s true identity or lack thereof.
“One question, does Tinsley know?”
“No!” I say.
A smile peeks across Mae’s lips like she finally feels like justice has been served. “Where is she?”
“With Bubba’s mother, learning the art of beekeeping.”
My sister’s eyebrows lift with surprise but not as if she wants Tinsley to get stung. Perhaps Tinsley’s new hobby gives her some respect in my sister’s eyes.
Moving on, I ask, “So what can you tell me about Stoll? Anything, everything. I’m missing something and I can’t figure out what it is.”
“I know that Gatlin Stoll has a tab at the diner a mile long,” Louella Belle says.
Cassian scowls likely because Rhondy is too generous to force Stoll to pay it.
“He left a receipt for a Hawaiian shirt at the inn,” Camellia says.
“What was he doing there?”
“He stayed with us the night before he left or went missing or whatever.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Camellia shrugs. “Because I didn’t know you were investigating him.”
“I didn’t think to mention it.” Nash flinches.
“Why would he stay at Butterbury Bed & Breakfast?”
“Have you been to his house?” Taylor asks.
“Only to retrieve Cindy Clawford.”
“Who?” Camellia asks.
“The famous model is involved too?” Christina asks, confused.
“I think he said Claw ford.” Louella Belle scratches the air like a cat but with her fingers.
“Yes. Gatlin called the cat Twinky, but her collar says Cindy Clawford along with the series of numbers on the back.” I explain the stitching.
“Sounds like it could be the code to a safe. My mother has one in her dressing room for her jewels.” Christina rolls her eyes.
“We searched his office from top to bottom. Didn’t see one there,” Buck says.
Thinking, I bite the inside of my cheek then lift my first two fingers and thumb. “As I see it, we have three choices. One, I’ll do my job, figure out where he went in Atlanta, and where he is now. That’s the most logical. Two, smoke Stoll out by making this public—all his past misdeeds, his mistreatment of the cat, and destroy his credibility. That’s a last resort. Or—”
“The first two options sound complicated, tedious, and expensive,” Nash says.
“Or three, cut holes in the toes of Stoll’s socks, run his underwear up the flagpole, and declare this town ours.”
Taylor punches the air. “I like it.”
My sisters both shake their heads at me.
“What do you say we move this party to Gatlin Stoll’s house?” I ask.
“Taylor and I are going home because baby , but we’d like a full report,” Mae says, getting to her feet.
Nash and Camellia bow out because they have to head back to the inn. That leaves Louella Belle, Bo, Christina, and Nash to accompany me on a search without a warrant.
“We’ll consider it a friendly, neighborly house call to check on the mayor,” Louella Belle says.
I like the way she thinks, but what will Tinsley think when she finds out about my real job and involvement in the case?