Hidden in Shadows

He should have checked the entire building, every corner, beneath every table, inside every teapot before leaving her alone in there.

He whipped the back door open. “Krista!”

Nothing.

“No, no,” he ground out between clenched teeth. He raced to the stairs leading to the second-floor office. Taking the stairs two at a time, he pulled out his firearm, got to the top and spun around, pointing the gun into the room.

Directly at Krista.

With round, terrified green eyes, she dropped the teapot in her hands and it crashed to the floor into pieces. He swung the gun around the room.

They were alone.

“What happened?” He holstered his gun. He took a step toward her and she backed up.

She was scared out of her mind. Because of Luke.

He put out his hands in a calming gesture. “I’m sorry about the gun. Okay? Just breathe.”

Luke took a deep breath and she mimicked him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded affirmative.

“You screamed. Why?” He didn’t move, didn’t step closer. But he wanted to. He wanted to put his arm around her and calm her down, stop her trembling.

His touch would probably make her shake more considering he’d just pulled a gun on her.

“What happened?” he asked.

She pointed to the broken teapot on the floor. Lying beside it was a dead mouse.

“That’s why you screamed?”

She nodded again. “It was…in the teapot. So, so I was checking other ones and you…” her voice hitched.

He threatened her with a gun.

“I’m sorry. I thought…never mind. I tend to go to the worst-case-scenario places. But you’re okay, that’s all that matters. Everything’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. There was no way a mouse could open the lid of a teapot and climb inside.

“Has this happened before?” he asked.

“We have mice problems. All restaurants do,” she said, defensively.

Good, she was coming out of her fright.

“The teapot was on my desk when I came upstairs. Strange, because I don’t remember leaving it here.”

She touched the calendar desk pad. Somewhere, deep down, she sensed the danger as well. But for now, Luke would shelve the possibility of this being a threat against her and help her get her bearings back.

“Krista!” a girl called from downstairs.

Krista didn’t answer at first. She just stared at Luke. He stepped aside, giving her ample room to pass. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel threatened. She needed to trust him if he had any chance of protecting her.

“I’ll clean up,” he said. “Broom?”

She pointed to the far end of the long attic office. He stepped around her and she rushed downstairs.

The high pitch of excited female voices drifted up from the restaurant. He grabbed the broom and hesitated, trying to calm the adrenaline rush. Couldn’t help reacting the way he did. He’d been a few seconds too late and his partner died because of it. Luke wouldn’t make that mistake again, especially not with a complete innocent like Krista.

With a deep breath, Luke got the broom and began sweeping up the mess. Shards of china, loose tea and a few candy wrappers.

He eyed the dead mouse. A few inches away he spotted a white scrap of paper folded a few times. He grabbed a pair of latex gloves used by the kitchen staff and opened the note.

Welcome Home, Pretty Lady.

“Great,” Luke muttered. He had to assume this was a threat, right? A dead mouse in a teapot. So Garcia’s man had been here in the shop?

“That’s too close.” It’s not like the quaint tea shop would have video surveillance. He’d have to do it the old-fashioned way and check the locks for signs of tampering.

He took his time cleaning up, giving Krista space. She needed to recover from the sight of the dead mouse, and a man pointing a gun at her. But he wasn’t going far. When the chief stopped by Luke would hand off the note and have him send it in for prints.

It seemed tame for a drug lord’s henchman. Subtlety wasn’t their style. They were more direct, more in-your-face vicious.

Now you get to watch him die.

Garcia’s words slashed through Luke’s chest like a knife. His best friend, the only guy in the world who both understood and accepted Luke for who he was, broken parts and all, died right in front of Luke. And he was unable to do a thing about it.

Luke shoved back the memory and the pain. Stuffing the note into a plastic baggie and then into his pocket, he headed downstairs to call in this development.

If only he knew what it meant.

Thank goodness Krista was feeling more like herself halfway through the lunch rush. She thought her nerves would never stop skittering.

First a break-in, then a dead mouse, then Luke aiming a gun directly at her chest.

She reminded herself that that was normal behavior for a man like Luke, but still, the image was not easy to shake. Pulling a gun because she’d found a dead mouse was definitely overkill. Then again, he didn’t know what had made her scream.

“Table four needs more cream and jam,” Tori Sass said, breezing into the kitchen with a handful of plates.

“Right up.” Krista squirted sweetened whipped cream onto a plate and spooned a dollop of jam beside it. Some liked their scones extra sweet. She wondered how Agent McIntyre liked his.

No, he’d probably never tried a scone. He seemed more the doughnut type of guy.

Why was she thinking about him again? She was tired, that’s all. Tired and frightened out of her right mind between the mouse and firearm.