“Marco, someone tried to kidnap Jillian. I have to call the police.”
Quickly, I ended the call, dialed 911, spoke to the emergency operator, then hung up and hurried over to my cousin to hear her story.
“I was talking to Claymore on the phone when I left here.” Sniffle. “I put my phone in my purse, turned the corner, and bam! Someone snatched my beret. When I went to see who it was, some thug twisted my arm behind my back and pushed me toward the street. I struggled and tried to get away, but he shoved me into this dirty old van, then climbed in with me and shut the door. Then the van pulled away.” Sniffle. “I thought for sure I was going to die.”
“Good heavens!” Grace exclaimed. “Did you get a look at his face?”
“He was wearing a ski mask.” Jillian wept, abandoning Lottie to switch to Grace’s shoulder. “He snarled something about giving it up, and I said, ‘Give up what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ and then he grabbed me by the arms and shook me. Then he said in this whispery, scary voice, ‘Don’t play games with me, Abby Knight,’ just like that. So I said, ‘I’m not Abby.’ And he said, ‘Right.’ And I said, ‘No, seriously. I’m her cousin.’ And he said, ‘No way.’ And I said, ‘Surely you’ve heard of me. I’m Jillian Knight-Osborne, the well-known wardrobe consultant.’ ”
Dear God. She gave the kidnapper her name.
Marco rapped on the front door, and Lottie let him in. At the same moment, a squad car pulled up, lights flashing, and two cops got out, one of them Reilly.
Jillian blew her nose on a tissue Lottie offered. “Then the guy said in this hoarse voice, ‘You swear you’re not Abby Knight?’ And I said, ‘I told you I’m her cousin. Would you like to see my ID?’ Then he banged on the roof, the van stopped, he opened the door, and shoved me out! Look at my purse! It’s ruined.” With an angry sniff, Jillian brushed her hair away from her face, then patted the top of her head. “And he still has my beret!”
With Marco and the cops there, Jillian repeated her tale. She’d gathered her wits sufficiently to embellish it, so I knew she was going to be okay. Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling so hot. Cold, actually. Shivering, teeth-chattering cold.
I hugged myself for warmth as the cops began questioning her. Was she sure the man had called her Abby Knight? She was. What had he said to her exactly? She couldn’t remember. It was all a bit fuzzy. What color was the van? Dirty. Okay, white. How old was the man who grabbed her? She couldn’t tell by his voice because he whispered, but his arms were thin, so probably a teen. Could she give a description to their sketch artist? Only if they wanted a drawing of a guy wearing a ski mask. Did she see a license plate number? Puh-leez! She was facedown on the street.
“Sweetie, you look as white as a sheet,” Lottie said to me, while the cops finished up. “Come on. Let’s get you a glass of water.”
Lottie escorted me into the parlor with Grace hurrying ahead of us. “A nice bracing cup of tea is what she needs.”
I sank down on a chair at one of the ice cream tables and rested my forehead in my hands. Moments later, Marco pulled up a chair and put his arms around me. “You okay?”
I nodded, turning against his chest. It felt safe there. Warm and safe, melting the cold.
“Reilly wants to talk to you,” Marco said quietly, rubbing my back.
“Here’s a glass of water, sweetie,” Lottie said.
“And a cup of herb tea,” Grace said, setting a cup and saucer next to the glass.
I reached for the water as Reilly sat down at the table and got out his notebook. His partner stood behind him, keeping an eye on the front door. In the other room, Jillian was retelling her story to someone on her cell phone.
“Have you noticed anyone following you lately?” Reilly asked. “Any suspicious vehicles, or this white van your cousin described, parked outside the shop or your apartment?”
I shook my head.
“From what your cousin said,” Reilly began, “it seems likely that the perps are the same two who went after Nikki.”
Stating the obvious. I took a sip of water. It didn’t want to go down. I switched to tea.
“It also seems likely that they were, in actuality, after you both times.”
Hence the chattering teeth.
Reilly glanced at me to see if I was paying attention. “Plus, we have the threatening letters and the burning brick.”
Why was he drawing this out?
“Naturally, we’ll be actively looking for these people,” Reilly said, “but until we figure out who’s behind this, it’s best if you’re escorted to and from work.”
“I’ll handle that task,” Marco said.
Great. Now I was a task.
“Also,” Reilly continued, “don’t leave the shop or your apartment to run errands unless someone is with you.”
“We’ll see to that on our end,” Grace said. I smiled my thanks, but there was no way we could manage the shop with two of us gone at the same time.
“And last”-Reilly glanced at Marco, then cleared his throat-“you need to keep a low profile. That means stopping your campaign against Uniworld.”
“No!” I put down the cup, sloshing tea. “That’s what they want me to do!”
“Abby, whoever is behind this kidnapping attempt isn’t fooling around,” Reilly argued. “Confinement is a class-A felony, punishable by thirty years in prison.”
“You know very well who’s behind it. Nils Raand. Go tell him about the thirty years in prison, because Marco’s little pep talk obviously didn’t do the trick.” I glanced at my hero and rubbed his arm. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re right,” Marco said. “I didn’t give Raand enough credit for his cunning. That’s my fault, but I sure as hell won’t make the same mistake twice.” He gazed earnestly into my eyes, making me go all gooey inside. “Look, baby, I know you’re upset and scared, but you don’t have to worry. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m here for you.”
Aw. How could I argue with that? I laid my head on his shoulder, nestling in the crook of his neck. Besides, if Marco was going to play bodyguard, I really wouldn’t have to give up my campaign.
As Grace brought a pot of tea to the table, Reilly slipped his notebook in his pocket and stood up. “I’ll pay another call on Raand first thing in the morning.”
“Hellooooo,” Jillian called, coming into the parlor. “I was the victim, remember? Don’t I get any tea?”
“I’ll take you home in my car,” Marco said as we got ready to lock up the shop. “I’m going to leave the Prius at your place. In case of an emergency, I don’t want you to be without transportation. Rafe will bring me back here to get your car.”
“Then are you going to keep the Vette at your apartment?”
“Unless you object.”
“Oh no. That’s very thoughtful of you.” Always looking out for my safety-another of those pluses that made him so great.
He kissed me on the forehead, so I refrained from reminding him to be really, really careful with my car. Of course he’d be careful. If I couldn’t trust the man I was thinking about becoming engaged to, I shouldn’t think about becoming engaged to him.
“So… you won’t let Rafe drive it, will you?”
He chuckled.
Was that a no?
Marco insisted on walking me up to the second floor of my apartment building, and waited while I opened the door, to be sure Nikki was home. “Nikki?” I called.
“I’m in the living room,” she called back.
“All clear,” I said to Marco.
He gave me a long, hot good-night kiss that made me wish he weren’t leaving. “I’ll be here at seven forty-five in the morning,” he promised.
Awesome. My very own limo service. I locked the door behind him and removed my coat and hat, calling to Nikki, “You’ll never believe what happened today.”
“Hold on,” she called. “I have to pause the movie. We’re watching Titanic.”
I stepped into the living room and found Nikki and Morgan sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a comforter.
“Come join us.” Nikki held out a bowl. “Greg made cheese popcorn.”
“One of my many hidden talents,” he said.
Nikki ruffled his hair. “You’re so cute. You remind me of Leo DiCaprio.”
If only Morgan would float out to sea.
Deputy Prosecutor Greg Morgan had the blue eyes, perfect teeth, and golden brown hair of a choirboy, looks that had opened many doors for him, some into bedrooms, but the most important one straight into the prosecutor’s office. Everyone at the courthouse adored him. Indeed, it was almost impossible not to like him-unless you’d had a huge crush on him in high school and he’d totally ignored you until you came home from college with breasts.
I tolerated him because of Nikki and because his position on the prosecutor’s staff gave him access to information that was helpful in solving murder cases, when I was able to pry it out of him, not that he could ever admit to helping me and still keep his job.
“Tell us what happened,” Nikki prompted.
“Jillian was kidnapped,” I said, “but the kidnappers meant to get me.”
Nikki gasped. Morgan sat forward. “Is Jillian okay?” Nikki asked.
“Shaken, mostly,” I said.
Morgan began firing questions at me. “Were there any witnesses? Were statements taken? Who are the officers involved? Any suspects?”
“Slow down, Greg. I’ll tell you what happened.” I dipped my hand in the popcorn bowl and perched on the side chair to tell the whole story, except halfway through, my stomach got queasy, so I pushed the bowl aside.
When I finished, Nikki said, “Listen to Reilly, Abby. You absolutely have to call PAR to tell them to find someone else to fight Uniworld. You can’t risk your life for those cows.”
“Come on, Nikki. Not you, too.”
“Seriously, Abby,” Morgan said. “Pull back and let the police do their job. I’ll do everything I can to see that those jerks are brought to justice, whoever they are. We can’t have this sort of thing happening in our town. And forget about going after Uniworld. This issue with their milk has to be resolved in a court of law. And just so you know, they’ve hired local lawyers to represent them, and they have unlimited funds at their disposal.”
That was news to me. “Who?”
“Chinn, Knowles, and Brown,” Morgan said.
“Wait a minute. Peter Chinn is the assistant city attorney. That’s a conflict of interest.”
“You’d think so,” Morgan said, “but it happens all the time. When that much money is involved, there are no conflicts. It’s all about influence, Abby.”
“Then why were other towns able to stop Uniworld?” I asked.
“My guess is that Uniworld was unprepared for attacks by interest groups. They probably thought they’d kept information about their hormone supplementation quiet, not realizing the information got out anyway. But that made Uniworld’s legal team shrewder. As a result, anyone who tries to stop them now is in a no-win situation.”
“Maybe you can help our cause, Greg,” Nikki suggested, entwining her arm with his.
He gazed at her fondly. “I wish I could, but I’m a law enforcement officer, and it’s not a criminal matter. I don’t have any expertise in civil law. The kidnapping, well, that’s a different story. Bringing these kidnappers to justice is what I do. And a word to the wise, Abby. If you keep fighting Uniworld, you can bet they’ll turn up the heat until you have no choice but to give up or risk losing everything. Are you willing to make that sacrifice for those cows?”
I sank into the chair in a fit of gloom. There had to be some way to fight back.
I was not in the best of moods the next morning as I slid into the passenger side of my car. Although I had the sexiest escort in town, I missed driving my Vette. I missed the feel of the steering wheel in my hands, the surge of its mighty engine under my feet. I also missed feeling safe in my own hometown. It made me all the more irate about Uniworld’s seemingly unlimited power and influence.
As I buckled myself in, my cell phone rang. At the same time, Marco’s began to chirp. He flipped his phone open and glanced at the screen. “It’s Reilly.”
My screen had Grace’s name on it. I glanced at Marco. “This isn’t good.”
“Abby, dear, there’s been a break-in,” Grace said. “I wanted to prepare you before you saw the police car out front. They’ve just now arrived, so I must go.”
“What did they take?” I asked, but she’d already ended the call.
Marco shut his phone and glanced my way. “Did you hear?”
Frowning, I leaned back against the headrest. “Grace told me there was a break-in.”
Marco reached over and gently squeezed my hand. I couldn’t even begin to voice my dismay, so I said nothing, only squeezed back. I feared Morgan’s prediction that Uniworld would turn up the heat had just begun to come true.
Marco pulled up behind the squad car and let me out. While he went to park the Vette, I hurried toward the yellow door, my stomach churning in dread. Through the sparkling new glass pane I could see Reilly talking to Grace and Lottie, and behind them, a cop taking photographs. With my heart in my throat, I stepped inside and gazed around in disbelief.
This wasn’t just a break-in. My beloved Bloomers had been thoroughly trashed. Fresh flowers lay broken and trampled amidst pieces of pottery, glass, and wax candles. Shelves were swept bare. Display cabinets were upended. My beautiful dieffenbachia were uprooted. Potting soil clumped messily all over the wood floor. Everything in the glass-fronted cooler was destroyed. Uniworld had turned up the heat all right.
The women had attempted to sweep up the mess, but must have stopped when the police arrived. Grace still had a dustpan in one hand and a broom in the other. Lottie clutched a paper bag full of broken merchandise. Feeling sick, I leaned against the door.
“Oh, sweetie,” Lottie said, and dropped her bag to come hug me. Grace headed for the parlor, no doubt to get me a cup of tea.
“Take a few deep breaths,” Lottie instructed. “It’ll clear your head.”
The bell jingled and Marco stepped inside, his jaw dropping as he glanced around.
“Did they wreck the other rooms?” I asked.
“The workroom,” Lottie said sadly.
My haven! Marco put his arms around me, holding me close as I fought back tears. “Want me to check out the damage?” he asked.
“Please,” I said. I waited until he’d gone through the curtain; then I turned to Reilly. “This is Uniworld’s doing, Reilly, and it has to stop!”
“Abby, I talked to Raand a half hour ago,” Reilly said. “He stated that Uniworld had nothing to do with the letters, the brick incident, the attempted carjacking, or the kidnapping.”
“And you believed him?”
“Raand is squeaky clean, Abby. No record whatsoever. More important, he threatened to sue the department and the town if we continue to harass him or Uniworld. So we’ll take fingerprints and see what other evidence we can find, but in the absence of any solid proof, I don’t know what more we can do.”
“Well, there’s something more I can do,” I said. “I’ll hold a press conference to let the public know what Uniworld has been doing to harass and intimidate me.”
“Abby,” Reilly said, “before you take that step-”
“Do nottry to talk me out of it, Reilly. They can’t be allowed to pull this crap.”
“Sweetie,” Lottie said, “can I make a comment here? What if Uniworld isn’t behind the break-in? What if it was a plain ol’ robbery?”
“After everything else that’s happened?” I asked. “Isn’t that a little too coincidental?”
“Lottie,” Reilly said, “why did you mention robbery? Are you missing any cash?”
“No, thank the Lord, they didn’t find our cash,” she said. “I mentioned it because of what happened while Abby was at the Home and Garden Show Saturday morning. A UPS man came by asking for a package he claimed was delivered here by mistake. Thing was, he wasn’t our usual UPS man, and we haven’t had anybody else’s package delivered here. Plus he was looking around, nosy as all get-out.
“So I started asking questions, like how long he’d worked for UPS and where our regular guy was, making him as twitchy as a cat’s tail. When I asked where he left his van-you know how our guy leaves it at the mouth of the alley-he said he must have the wrong business, and took off. So now I’m wondering if he was casing the shop.”
Reilly looked pensive. “How old was he?”
“Maybe twenty, twenty-one,” Lottie said.
“There haven’t been any other robberies on the square recently,” Reilly said as Marco emerged from the workroom, “but businesses on the north side of town have had a string of break-ins, mostly smash-and-grabs for whatever cash they can find. We think it’s a gang of teenagers looking for drug money. Maybe the gang is changing locations.”
“Would they really target a small flower shop?” I asked.
“Why not?” Reilly said. “They’re not bank robbers. They’re looking for easy access. Maybe they got frustrated when they couldn’t find any cash and decided to tear up the shop.”
“Was the alarm tripped?” Marco asked.
“No,” Lottie said. “I found the door open and walked in to this mess.”
“How would teens know how to bypass our alarm system?” I asked Reilly.
“It’s not easy,” Reilly admitted, “but it can be done. Kids today are techno-geeks. The more robberies this gang commits, the better they get. We can’t rule them out.”
I still wasn’t convinced, but how could I prove it was Uniworld?
Marco’s gaze met mine and I knew what he was going to say. I just didn’t want to hear it. “If I give up now,” I told him, “Uniworld wins.”
“I think they’ve already won, Sunshine.”
At lunchtime, we took a short break from cleaning to get a bite to eat. Lottie headed out to pick up a sandwich from the deli, and Grace went home, wanting to change into something more suitable. Marco brought me a bowl of chili, but couldn’t stay. Rafe needed a ride to a job interview, so Marco promised he’d be back later to help with the cleanup.
While Lottie ate her sandwich in the kitchen, I sat by myself in the parlor at a table in front of the bay window, taking comfort in the hot, spicy stew of ground beef, tomatoes, onions, chili peppers, cinnamon, and black beans. I turned my chair so I couldn’t see the mess in the shop and gazed outside instead. There sat the stately limestone courthouse, the symbol of justice. It almost seemed to mock me. Was there justice when big money was involved?
I sighed, feeling blue. I couldn’t continue to suffer Uniworld’s backlash and hope to keep my business running. I couldn’t subject Lottie and Grace to possible danger, either, and I couldn’t ask Marco to babysit me forever. So did I even have a choice?
I spotted Peter Chinn ambling across the courthouse lawn, heading toward Franklin Street, turning up the collar of his black wool topcoat. There was no mistaking New Chapel’s assistant city attorney. In his late thirties, Chinn was half Asian, half Caucasian, and quite obese. He had short, black hair, small eyes, an upturned nose, a small mouth, and a chin buried in rolls of flesh. I watched as he stopped at the realty next door, then came toward Bloomers, a stack of pamphlets in his hand. I went to the door and unlocked it, opening it a few inches.
“I’m handing out schedules of town meetings,” he said, offering me one. “We’re giving them to all local business owners.”
I took one and looked it over. “I’m surprised a busy man like you would have time for this, when you don’t seem to have a moment to answer even one quick e-mail.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Can I come in for a minute? We need to talk.”
So now he wanted to chat? I opened the door wide. “Sure. Come see what your pals at Uniworld did.”
He stepped inside and gazed around, his face going slack as he took in the extent of the damage. “When did this happen?”
“Last night. Looks like I should install stronger locks. Or do I need to submit a request for that so you and the committee can ignore it, too?”
He pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead, which was beaded with sweat despite the cold temp. “I’m taking a risk coming here, so cut the sarcasm. I had nothing to do with this, nor do I know who did. And just to make this clear, I don’t handle the Uniworld account. I don’t even know which attorney in our firm does. But I can tell you that if you want that new door and ramp installed, you need to stop your campaign against the dairy farm.”
“So you don’t handle the Uniworld account; you just deliver their threats?”
“This is merely a friendly tip from me to you. Give me your word that you and your supporters won’t oppose the farm opening, and you can start looking for a contractor.”
One word. It was that simple. Lottie and Grace would certainly be relieved, as would Marco, Nikki, and my parents. Plus, I could stop worrying about losing Bloomers; I wouldn’t need an escort; and I could get my car back. But could I live with my conscience?
“Explain something to me, please, Mr. Chinn. How does my stand against the dairy farm affect my request for a new door and ramp?”
“Just tell me yes or no,” he snapped.
Before Chinn’s arrival I probably would have jumped at the chance to make the trouble go away. But his thinly veiled threat made me angry all over again. Still, could I afford to turn down his offer? “I’ll have to think about it.”
“Don’t take too long, Ms. Knight. You have no idea what you’re up against.” He opened the door, pausing to say, “And if you tell anyone about this conversation, I’ll deny it.”
Lottie came through the curtain just as Chinn left. “What the heck did he want?”
If I told her, I knew she’d be upset that I didn’t accept his offer. I handed her the brochure. “He left this for us.”