Sienna had pulled Jenn into an embrace and held her. She and Jethro had then distracted Jenn with light and silly banter, observations about wood floors, condiments, and ordering coffee in different countries. Shelly and Drew stood guard, keeping other folks at bay. Beau and Roscoe put their lethal levels of charm to work, intercepting anyone who approached and redirecting attention elsewhere.
Ashley, it had been explained to me, was off with Elena Wilkinson, tending to the woman’s injuries, whatever they were. We’d heard an ambulance pull up just after leaving the bakery, I’d assumed it was for Elena.
During all this, I endeavored to contemplate the present fiasco and what I knew about it as well as the facts I hadn’t shared with anyone.
I knew: Kip was dead. Elena was incapacitated at least. Jackson and Boone had suspected me and Jenn for one or both of the crimes.
Facts I hadn’t shared: The first in the pair of people I’d seen in the kitchen had been a motorcycle brother of my father’s who went by the name of Repo. The other, the woman with him, had been none other than Jenn’s mother. Neither Repo nor Diane were presently in the barn. I felt certain this was the case since I’d been scanning the space for their faces since we’d entered.
And, last but not least, Diane had been cleaning either red food dye, cherry pie filling, or blood off her hands in the bakery kitchen sink.
“Hey. I need to talk to you.” Jackson James materialized before me, redirecting my attention outward. He lifted his chin toward Billy. “You too. Both of you, come with me.”
I glanced behind me at Jenn. Her eyes were cloudy, her expression detached, and I swallowed around a discomfiting tightness at the base of my throat. But I also saw that Sienna and Jethro seemed to be doing a good job of keeping her distracted.
As such, I followed Billy and Jackson out of the barn. The blond deputy led us along the outside wall and around the corner. He then turned, his hands on his hips, his expression stern under the cloudless night of a waxing moon and bright stars.
“Let me fill y’all in, then we need to compare notes,” he said, in a very uncharacteristic display of getting right to the point. “Elena was knocked out, but she seems to be okay. We don’t know what or who knocked her out, and she’s not speaking to us. She said she wants her lawyer present. So we don’t know if Kip was with her when she was knocked out or why they were back here after being escorted to their car earlier and told to leave.”
“Y’all escorted Kip and Elena to their car?” I asked. Since Jenn and I left for the bakery, I didn’t know what the resolution had been with the Kip and Elena showing up uninvited situation.
“Yes,” Billy answered hurriedly. “The sheriff pulled us out of the barn, gave Kip and Elena a talking to, then had Evans and Jackson escort them to their car.”
“And I watched them drive away,” Jackson added. “So I know they left.”
“What about you Billy? What about Boone, the sheriff, and Ms. Donner? Diane? Did she go back to the barn?” I successfully modulated my voice to the frequency of mildly curious.
“We all went back to the barn.”
I nodded, absorbing Billy’s information. “And all y’all stayed put?” I’d been holding out hope that the blonde woman wearing a red dress in the kitchen with Repo hadn’t been Diane. Based on Billy’s statement, maybe my eyes had been playing tricks? . . . Unlikely.
Jackson and Billy swapped a look before turning narrowed eyes on me. “I remained in the barn until the shots were fired.” Jackson looked to Billy.
“So did I.” Billy’s hands came to his hips, mimicking Jackson’s posture. “So did the sheriff. He was there issuing orders right after the first few shots then took off.”
Jackson blinked, glancing over my head. “I don’t know if Ms. Donner was still there, though.”
Time to change the subject. “Okay, so shots fired. What happened after that? Other than mass hysteria at the barn.”
“Evans stayed and kept folks calm while my dad, Boone, and I ran toward the parking lot by the bakery—’cause that’s where the shots sounded like they were coming from. Then we heard another round and stopped, ducking behind those big azalea bushes halfway between the barn and the bakery. When nothing else happened, we ran to the parking lot and checked the cars.” Jackson paused here, his jaw ticking, his eyes narrowing. “That’s when I spotted Mr. Sylvester’s car in the lot.”
“So Kip and Elena left and came back,” I said, voicing the obvious.
“Yep. And this time they parked at the bakery, not the main lot. And when I got to the car—” Jackson drew in a shaky breath “—there was a lot of blood. He was sitting in the driver’s seat and the window looked like it had been shot out. I checked for a pulse. There was none.”
“And Elena?”
“She wasn’t there. Boone said he heard something, a bell from somewhere. My dad told us to go check it out while he phoned in to the station. Boone and I went to the back of the bakery first, and I thought I saw someone moving around inside in the kitchen, so I banged on the door.”
“We heard you banging. We were in the pantry, though. I couldn’t get to the back door without alerting the—uh—prowler in the kitchen.”
“Did you see them? Who was inside with y’all?” Jackson shifted on his feet, restless.
I frowned, breathing out, and working through how to answer without lying. “It was dark. The lights were off and, like I said, we were already in the pantry, visibility reduced.”
Jackson nodded grimly. “I figured as much.”
“What did you see?” I asked Jackson, readying myself for the very real possibility that Jackson and Boone had seen Diane.
Maybe she was their number one suspect. Maybe this was the real reason Jackson had pulled me and Billy outside. If this was the case, I needed to come up with a plan to protect Jenn from the fallout ASAP.
I knew my shock would be shorter lived than hers, it might not even last a full day. I knew this for a fact. For one thing, I had a vengeful heart. She did not. For example, as mentioned previously, I often thought about the death of my own father, and how I would exact that revenge.
Not many people were aware that I had the means and opportunity to end his life any time I wanted, whenever the mood struck, even now that he’d been paroled. Furthermore, no one but me knew I’d toyed with making it happen on the anniversary of my mother’s death. But then a short woman baker blackmailed me, distracted me, and changed my life and my heart forever with a dark chocolate confection she’d called compassion cake.
I never made the call that day. Darrell continued to breathe because last year, under Jenn’s continued influence, I’d decided to hold off indefinitely, an active decision based on something she’d once said about my past being in the past, that I got to choose the road I was on in the future as well as who I shared that road with.
But I digress.
Another difference between the two of us contributing to the likelihood of her experiencing prolonged shock: I’d been witness to violence on many occasions during my formative years. She had not. At least, not the severity of violence I’d experienced. Her parents had been wicked to her growing up, using hurtful words, and that was definitely a type of violence. But what I’d seen . . .