Hidden in Shadows (8 page)

But it was. Probably because of the angst she read in his eyes when he wasn't covering with bravado or humor.

Krista finished with the last of the ornaments and carried the box into the back. Luke was nowhere to be seen. Yeah, he was probably hiding in his car. Whatever. She had to respect his need to keep his life private.

He came downstairs carrying another box. “I'm goin' outside to do the lights.”

She grabbed her coat and followed him out the back door.

“Don't you have scones or something to bake?” he said, as if he didn't want her around.

Whenever his curt side popped out, she couldn't decide if she should turn and walk away, point her finger in his face and give him a lecture or shower him with compassion.

She chose compassion, because that was the most Christian thing to do. She grabbed the ladder and followed him to the front of the shop.

“I'm very particular about my lights,” she said.

“I'll bet you are,” he joked.

So he was covering with humor again. Interesting. She leaned the ladder up against the house and shook it to make sure it was secure.

He started up the ladder with the box in his hands.

“Careful,” she warned.

“You're making me nervous.”

“Sorry.” She gripped the ladder so it wouldn't budge.

Luke slid the box onto the asphalt shingles and climbed onto the roof. “Okay, boss, where do I start?” he asked with a smile.

“String the bigger lights along the roof line. The clips should be there from last year.”

Luke kneeled down and fingered the edge of the roof. “Okay. You want them to go all around the roof or just in the front?”

“All around, please.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

A car pulled into the lot with three ladies inside.

“Looks like you've got customers. I can handle this.” She hesitated.

“Go on. I won't mess up, too badly.” He disappeared to the other side of the roof and she headed inside to prepare for the first customers of the day.

Shucking her coat, she tossed it on the stairs going up to the office and grabbed a few menus. She took a deep breath and greeted the three middle-aged women.

“Good morning, ladies,” she said. “You have your choice of tables.”

The short blonde woman with a round face pointed to the corner table by the tree and her friends followed.

“Have you ever been to Grace's Tea Shop before?” Krista asked.

“I came last year with my mom while staying at the Lake-side Resort. I'm back for a girls' weekend.” She smiled at her friends.

“Sounds great. We specialize in high tea, offering three different versions.”

The ladies sat down and Krista handed them menus. “We also have salads, soups and sandwiches. I'll give you a few minutes to—”

A loud bang echoed from outside, followed by pounding from the ceiling. Krista instinctively ducked and glanced out the window…

…just as Luke dropped off the roof.

S
tunned, Luke struggled to breathe as he stared up at the gray November sky. What on earth just happened? He heard a loud crack, like a gunshot, lost his footing and tumbled off the roof.

Which meant someone was shooting at him? He had to get up, protect Krista.

He pinched his eyes shut against the frustrating paralysis of his lungs. That was the only thing he could feel right now, not the pain of a possible broken limb or concussion. He couldn't even tell where he'd been hurt. He just knew he had to have done some kind of damage in the fall. “Luke?”

He looked up into Krista's warm green eyes. And for a second he felt a kind of peace he'd never experienced before.

Then panic set in.

“Got to…” He struggled for air to form the rest of his sentence. He had to get up, get her inside where it was safe.

“Don't move. An ambulance is on the way.”

“No,” he gasped. “Can't leave you.”

“Don't argue with me or…or I'll fire you.” She shot him a stern look and placed her hand to his chest.

Her touch made him relax, helped him focus. Should he tell her he'd been shot at? And that they could be aiming for her next?

No, it made no sense to kill Krista. Abduct her, maybe, but
not kill her. She had something Garcia's men wanted. She'd be no good to them dead.

He got it together, took a deep breath. “You need to get inside.”

The squeal of a siren echoed across the parking lot. “Help is here. Everything's going to be fine.”

He didn't believe it, wouldn't believe it until he nailed Garcia and got this woman out of danger.

“Over here!” she called out.

A second later Officer West came into view.

“I was a block away when I heard your call. What happened?” Officer West asked.

“I heard a bang—”

“It sounded like a gunshot,” Luke interrupted Krista.

With a nod, Officer West took a few steps away and spoke low into her radio.

Luke tried to push himself up, but Krista wasn't having any of it.

“Don't you dare move,” she ordered. “The cops are here, the ambulance is coming. You just stay put.”

“I'm fine.” In truth he had no idea how fine he was until he stood up. “Get inside. You've got customers.”

“They'll wait. You think that bang was a gunshot?”

“It sounded like it. I ducked, but lost my footing.”

She glanced nervously over her shoulder. “Where is that ambulance?”

“Krista?”

She glanced at him. “I never should have asked you to put up my lights.”

“Stop, this is not your fault.” He placed his hand over hers. But he could tell she didn't believe him. “Help me up.”

“I will not.”

“Fine, then I'll get up by myself.”

With a fortifying breath, he pushed off the ground and stood, wavering slightly against pain in his left ankle. Krista grabbed his arm for support.

“Hey, wait for the ambulance,” Officer West said as the ambulance pulled into the parking lot.

“I don't need paramedics.”

“Stop being a jerk and let them take a look at you,” Krista argued.

“Is than an order, boss?”

“Yes, it is.” She waved the EMTs over.

Luke didn't know any other way to deal with this situation than to try and lighten the mood. Deep down he was worried that if someone was bold enough to shoot at him in public, who knows what they'd do next.

To Krista.

Two EMTs rolled a stretcher over to the sidewalk.

“I don't need that.” Luke started for the ambulance and Krista wouldn't leave his side. He wished she'd go into the shop, although he felt they were pretty safe out here with the cops and emergency crews swarming the lot. The perp would be a fool to take another shot at him.

If someone was shooting at him, that meant he'd blown his cover.

Clenching his jaw against the pain, he hobbled to the ambulance. It wouldn't hurt to let them get a look at his ankle, maybe wrap it for support.

He sat on the edge of the ambulance. “I'm not going to the hospital.”

The younger EMT glanced at Krista. She shook her head. “He's a grown man. We can't force him.”

“Sir, where are you hurt?” an older guy, with jet-black hair asked.

“My ankle.” He stretched it out and winced.

“Okay, sir. We're going to check your vitals and your eyes for signs of a concussion.”

Krista stayed close, nibbled at her fingernail. She looked worried, truly concerned about Luke's well-being. Sure she was. He was her only protection against Garcia.

“Krista!” Alan called from behind her.

She didn't budge from her spot next to Luke.

“Krista, what happened?” Alan nudged his way beside Krista.

“I fell off the roof,” Luke said. He made eye contact with Krista and a silent understanding passed between them. He didn't want to discuss the shooting with just anybody. At this point Luke wanted to keep it between the chief, Officer West, Luke and Krista.

“Thank goodness you're okay,” Alan said to Krista and pulled her aside.

Luke wanted her to stay close where he could keep an eye on her. Yeah, like he'd be able to protect her in his condition?

The older EMT checked his blood pressure, flashed a light in his eyes and then got a look at his ankle.

“Will I live?” Luke said.

“The ankle is definitely sprained, but I can't tell you if it's broken until you get an X-ray.” The guy straightened. “You probably have a concussion. You were lucky you landed on the pile of broken-down boxes.”

Luke glanced across the parking lot. He was lucky it was recycling day and the shop's delivery boxes were stacked and laying just right to break Luke's fall.

“You sure we can't convince you to take a ride?” the EMT encouraged.

“No, thanks anyway.”

“We'll wrap the ankle. Get crutches and stay off it for a couple of days,” the younger EMT said.

“Will do.”

Luke watched Krista and Alan across the parking lot as the younger EMT wrapped his ankle. He hated weakness of any kind, especially physical weakness. He had no intention of using crutches. It would make him look weak, vulnerable.

Luke stepped away from the ambulance, clenching his jaw against the pain. Officer West stepped up to him. “Need a hand?”

“I'm good, thanks.”

Officer West glanced across the parking lot at Alan who
was in a heated discussion with Krista. “That guy creeps me out.”

“What do you know about him?”

“He moved here a few years ago to get away from the city. I guess he's some kind of techno geek. He's dense, that's for sure. I mean she obviously isn't interested.”

Chief Cunningham pulled up and got out of his cruiser. “What in the name of sweet peaches happened here?”

Luke motioned him closer. “I heard what sounded like a gunshot and lost my footing. Fell off the roof.”

The ambulance pulled out.

“Shouldn't you be going with them?” the chief asked.

“He's stubborn,” Officer West said.

“Do I have to pull rank?” the chief threatened.

“Thanks for the concern, sir, but I'm really okay,” Luke said. “Just a sprained ankle.”

“Lucky you,” the chief said. “Officer West, canvass the area and determine if anyone else heard anything resembling a gunshot.”

“You don't believe me?” Luke said.

“I believe you, son. But let's rule out other possibilities first. There's construction on the north end of town, and the local mechanic could be working on a stubborn car. We'll do a canvass just to be sure.”

“I'll radio in, sir.” Officer West got in her patrol car and took off.

“Anything else you can tell me?” the chief said.

“No, sir.”

“Okay, then get inside and ice that ankle before it blows up like a hot air balloon.” He glanced across the parking lot. “Krista!”

She sidestepped Alan and rushed over to Luke and the chief. “Thanks, chief,” she whispered.

The chief eyed Alan, who hovered in the parking lot for a minute before getting into his car.

“Take Luke inside and make him ice that ankle. I'll bring some crutches by later.”

“I don't need crutches,” Luke said.

“Yes, you do,” Krista said, leading him to the back of the shop. She frowned and Luke eyed her.

“The chief thinks the sound could have been a car backfiring,” Luke offered, hoping it would ease her concern. But he wasn't letting his guard down.

“It's not that.” She got him set up at the employee break table in the back.

“What, boyfriend trouble?” He shifted into the chair with a groan.

“He's not my boyfriend.” She scooped cubes into a dish towel. “I'd planned to clear things up with Alan tonight at dinner, but I can't leave you in this condition.”

“It's a sprained ankle, Krista. I'll live. But I don't want you going anywhere without me.”

“Three's a crowd, or haven't you heard?” She pulled out a second chair and she placed his foot on it.

She gently adjusted the ice pack to his ankle and he clenched his jaw against the cold.

“Don't worry about it,” she said. “I need to make sure you take it easy.”

He started to argue with her, then realized if a guilt trip kept her from running off to meet Alan, then Luke would go along.

He'd use whatever means necessary to keep her close and out of danger.

“Stop fretting.” He motioned her to back off. “You've got customers.”

“But you'll—”

“Stop babying me or I'll climb back on the roof and finish the lights.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me.” He smiled.

“Okay, message received.” With a shake of her head, she grabbed an order pad and disappeared into the dining room.

He pulled out his cell. If someone had been shooting at him that meant the threat was already here.

Only, why couldn't they see it? Especially the locals? The chief seemed pretty sharp and on top of his game. He'd have to know about strangers in town.

Unless Garcia had enlisted the help of a local, someone that no one would suspect, someone they all trusted as one of their own. Luke needed the folder of names and background information he'd left in the car.

His foot was pounding and his head still buzzed from the fall, but he couldn't just sit here doing nothing. He grabbed the ice pack and placed it on the table. Pushing the chair back, he lowered his foot and started to get up.

“Don't even think about it,” Krista said, walking into the kitchen. “You're staying put if I have to duct tape you to the chair.”

 

The man was impossible. It was bad enough Krista had to run the shop single-handedly, but she also had to play babysitter to a stubborn federal agent who was cranky as anything.

But he was alive.

She sighed at the thought as she spread dilled cream cheese on a slice of bread. If he'd fallen differently off the roof…

No, she wouldn't go there. Things happened for a reason. Luke's job wasn't finished here in Wentworth. He was meant to survive the fall and close his case.

And make her life miserable in the process.

“I hate to bother you, but—”

“Give me two minutes,” Krista interrupted him, wanting to put the finishing touches on the tea sandwich.

“I'm leaking,” Luke said.

She turned to see a puddle forming on the hardwood floor.

“Shoot.” She dropped the knife and rushed to him. She kneeled beside the chair and gently removed the ice pack. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault.”

Just then, Tatum Sass waltzed into the back of the shop. “Whoa, did I interrupt something?”

“Just the first lunch rush,” Krista said, racing across the kitchen to dump the towel in the sink.

“What happened to him?” Tatum asked.

“Fell off the roof,” Luke said.

“What were you doing on the roof?”

“Hanging lights,” Krista answered. “Which means I'm going to have to finish hanging them tonight after work.”

“Oh, no, you're not,” Luke argued.

“Boy, you guys sound like Tori and her old boyfriend. Argued all the time.” Tatum hung up her jacket and grabbed an apron. “Status out front?”

Krista put on a new pair of gloves and went back to working on tea sandwiches. “You need to take a food order for table five, table three is waiting on the Duchess's Tea and table two is ready for a check.”

“Check,” Tatum joked.

“Go on, get out there. This order will be ready in five.” Krista nodded at the three-tiered tower that was waiting for sandwiches, fruit and scones.

“Oh, and he needs more ice for his ankle,” Krista said. “Can you do that first?”

“No,” Luke protested. “It's better. Go on and take care of customers.”

Tatum shrugged and went out into the dining room.

“It only would have taken her a minute,” Krista said over her shoulder.

“Don't make me feel guilty about you neglecting your customers on my account.”

“Why not? I already feel guilty about your injury.”

“Stop, or I'm going to get my own ice.”

She turned to him. “Don't you dare.”

“Then stop worrying about me.” He smiled and went back to studying the contents of his folder. A folder he wouldn't let Krista get from his car because he wouldn't let her out of his sight.

So he'd called the chief who'd sent Deanna West back to get Luke's keys and retrieve the folder. He'd been engrossed
in the contents, jotting down notes and flipping pages for the past three hours.

When Krista slid a cup of soup and a sandwich in front of him, he'd barely noticed but managed to grunt out a “thanks.” He was absorbed all right. She wished she knew what was so fascinating, but simply didn't have time to ask.