Christmas Cover-up

To his left, he saw several people gathered beside the maroon van with the Ruth Ann’s Cakes logo. Someone was yelling for help. He saw Bob Lindahl’s legs in red and green plaid trousers lying on the pavement. What the hell had Rue done?

She took a step toward the house. The people around him gasped and ducked behind the pillars on the wide verandah. Cowards and imbeciles. Couldn’t they see she was in shock? Her legs wobbled. She could barely stand.

He went toward her.

“Rue.” He spoke her name loudly. Her eyes were glassy and dazed. “Rue, are you all right?”

She nodded.

“Give me the gun.”

Eagerly, she held out the black automatic. He took it from her and gathered her into his arms. Her cheek rested against his chest. He could feel her trembling, delicate as a butterfly. “Don’t pass out,” he said.

“I need to sit down.”

With his arm around her shoulders, he guided her back toward the house. The crowd parted before them. From far away, he heard the siren of an ambulance.

When they reached the three steps leading up to the pillared verandah, she sank down onto the stair and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. Her head drooped.

He sat beside her, arm around her shoulder. “Where did you get the gun, Rue?”

“Carlos the bodyguard.” Her voice was barely audible. “He was shot in the leg. The bad man was getting away. I tried to stop him. I tried.”

“Everything is going to be okay,” he reassured her.

“It’s not.” She stiffened. “Uncle Bob was shot in the chest. Three times.”

Sounded like an assassination. Cody wasn’t sure how the murder fit into his own personal agenda, but it couldn’t be a coincidence. He was meant to be here. At this particular time. In this particular place.

One of the uniformed officers from the party came up beside them, and Cody handed over the gun.

The officer said, “I’m taking this lady into custody.”

“Give us a minute,” Cody said. “This is Danny’s stepdaughter.”

“Oh.” The officer took a step back but stayed close, watching in case Rue decided to make a run for it.

Not much chance of that. She was limp, boneless.

Cody held her protectively and watched as another cop, the assistant chief of police, took charge of the scene on the lawn, herding people back into the house and making room for the ambulance.

Rue looked up at Cody. Strands of her wavy brown hair had fallen loose from her ponytail and framed her face. Her complexion was as white as her blood-spattered shirt, but she seemed more controlled. “Why are you helping me?”

A damn good question. Even though he’d decided Rue might be useful to him, that didn’t mean he had to come to her rescue. He shrugged. “Somebody had to step up before you shot yourself in the foot.”

“Do you think Bob Lindahl will be all right? I’ve never seen anything like…” Her words trailed off, and she covered her face with her hands.

A light vanilla scent rose from her silky hair. She was sweet and quirky—very different from the perfectly packaged women he usually dated. Those ladies wore the right clothes, knew the right people and said the right things. Not one of them would have been caught dead at a social event waving a gun.

Fighting for composure, she looked toward him again. “I really screwed up.”

“What happened?”

“We came out to get the cakes from my van. It was me, Bob and his bodyguard, Carlos. And another guy. His name is Tyler Zubek. We had the cakes in our hands.”

She pantomimed holding a tray. “Then this guy started shooting at us. God, it was loud. The only defense I could come up with was to throw my cake at him.”

Cody bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. She tried to fight off a gunman with a cake?

“It was a beautiful sheet cake,” she said. “A low-fat, gluten-free recipe.”

“It’s good to know you didn’t throw anything fattening.”

“But both of my cakes are ruined.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “Oh my God, what am I saying? How can I even think about cake? Bob Lindahl might be dead.”

He heard the rising panic in her voice and tried to reassure her. “It’s okay. You did everything you could.”

“Danny is going to be so disappointed in me. I didn’t even get the license plate on the getaway car.”

Her former stepfather. Danny Mason. He was the reason Cody had come to this party.

Shortly after Danny was elected mayor, Cody had received a manila envelope marked Personal and Confidential. Inside was a green shamrock tiepin, similar to the one his father had been wearing on the day he’d died. There was also a folded bumper sticker in red, white and blue that said, Danny Mason—Building a Better Denver. The implication? Danny knew something about his father’s murder. Cody intended to follow this lead.

Going to the police was a waste of time. They didn’t have the manpower to reopen a twenty-year-old case. Nor could Cody march up to the new mayor and start asking pointed questions.

When Rue had introduced herself, he’d seen his opportunity. If he got closer to her, he’d get closer to Danny.

Her eyebrows pinched in a frown. “The gunman did the strangest thing after he shot Bob. He dropped his weapon. Just left it there. Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know.”

The ambulance arrived and two paramedics raced toward her van. He gave her arm a squeeze and helped her to her feet. “I think we should have the EMTs take a look at you.”

“I didn’t hurt myself,” she protested. “I know how to handle a weapon. Danny taught me.”

Speaking of the devil, Danny Mason was coming toward them. In spite of the chill, the sleeves of his green shirt were rolled up to the elbow. He had the forearms of a bricklayer. Or a boxer. If Cody remembered correctly, Danny had once been a Golden Gloves middleweight contender, and he’d stayed in shape. His dark-red hair swept back from a concerned forehead. Though his focus was on Rue, his gaze darted, taking in every detail. He might be mayor, but his cop instincts were still in force.

As he folded Rue into an embrace, he scowled at Cody. “I didn’t know you two were friends.”

“We just met.” Cody wasn’t intimidated. “I intend to see more of your former stepdaughter.”

“Is that so?”

“Dinner on Saturday.” Cody named the most romantic restaurant he could think of. “Chez Mona.”

Rue turned her head toward him. “I’ve been dying to go there. They have a new chef.”

“I’ve met him.”