“Bain is looking for Gabby Johnson.” His hands full, Plumber moved place to place—a bookshelf, a cabinet, the microwave. “So, we’re going to have him meet Gabby Johnson . . .”
Why was he stashing weapons all over the cottage? Anxiety rose in her. “You’re going to bring Bain and Fallon here?”
Near the fridge, Plumber stopped and looked over at her. A wicked twinkle lit in his eyes. “What better way to convince them you’re not their Gabby Johnson?”
“Oh, I don’t know about this.” Gabby wasn’t sold on this plan. Not at all sold on it, and she didn’t think bringing Bain and Fallon to this cottage—to her home—was a safe move. “It seems unnecessarily risky to me.”
“It is risky. But we don’t have a lot of options.”
Minutes later, he walked from the kitchen back over to her. “Kelly’s coming up the drive right now. You’re going to need to put on the uniform and go to the police station, then stay put there until I come for you.”
“Coming in,” Kelly called out from the porch. The door cracked open and a woman walked in who looked nothing like Kelly. Her hair was red, her face totally devoid of makeup, and she was dressed in coveralls and a t-shirt mostly hidden by an unbuttoned white shirt that hung almost to her knees. But the most shocking thing was the dark-haired toddler resting on her hip, smiling up at her and calling her mama.
“Kelly?”
“Gabby Johnson,” she said. “My son, Jeremy.”
Gabby got gooseflesh. “Whose child is that?”
“Alyce’s grandson,” Kelly said. “She figured he’d lower the odds of any gunplay—and he calls everyone Mama.”
Kelly smiled—and had totally different looking teeth. For the first time, Gabby’s uncertainty about Plumber’s plan fell to an infusion of hope that it actually would work. She looked at him. “Bain will never identify her as Kelly Meyer.”
“Counting on that. Get into the uniform.”
In short order, Gabby emerged from the bedroom in uniform with her hair tucked up under the hat, her expression stern. “This isn’t going to fool anybody.”
“It doesn’t have to,” Plumber said. “The uniform will keep them away from you.”
They’d walked right into the police station earlier, but they hadn’t been there then to commit murder, so he was probably right.
“It’s time for you to go.” He guided Gabby to the door. “Remember. Go straight to the station and stay put until I come and get you.”
That still didn’t sit right with her. They were taking all the risks. She opened her mouth to object.
His hand on her cheek stopped her. “I know. It’ll be fine.”
If it would be fine, then why had he stashed weapons all over the cottage? She thought it, but held her tongue, stretched on her toes and kissed him. “Be careful.”
“We will.”
Gabby prayed he was right. If anything happened to any of them—a child!—she’d never survive the guilt. Never.
“We’ll be fine,” Kelly waved.
“You better,” Gabby said, trembling, her eyes burning. “I’ve only had three friends in my life and one Plumber.” She blinked hard. “I can’t lose anything else. I just . . . can’t.”
“Have faith, Gabby.” Plumber ushered her the rest of the way to the door, and the second she stepped onto the porch, he pushed it shut.
“Weapons in the usual places?” Kelly’s voice carried out onto the porch.
“Yeah. We’re good.”
“Okay, then. Bain and Fallon will be here at five o’clock . . ..”
Chapter Nineteen
Tuesday, December 15, 4:15 p.m.
Technically, Gabby kept her word. She went straight to the station. But then she made a U-turn in the parking lot and drove down Main Street. She could not sit sheltered in the safety of the station while Plumber and Kelly and little Jeremy took all the risks for her. She had to go back. She’d hide in the woods nearby, then if trouble erupted, she could at least intervene as a distraction.
To do it effectively, she needed a weapon she could just aim and fire. She’d never before held a gun much less fired one, but Bain didn’t know that, and to protect Plumber or Kelly or little Jeremy, Gabby would do it.
At the curb, she pulled to a stop in front of Alyce’s coffeeshop. It was dark inside and the sign on the door read: Closed.
Finding that strange, Gabby looked down Main Street. Everything was closed—all the shops. Pulling out her phone, she dialed Sara. Her call went straight to voice mail. So did Lys’s. As a last resort, Gabby called Pastor Ruther. “Voice mail.” Where was everybody?
The station would have weapons. But they weren’t apt to let Gabby waltz in and appropriate one. Kelly was off the chief’s hit list for firing since Gabby helped her get the computer fixed and her report uploaded, but Gabby borrowing a weapon would certainly get Kelly right back on it and demoted or fired. That the triple threat had adopted her as a fourth in their group was known all over Christmas Cove.
At Patchwork Needle, Gabby spotted something leaning against the bench Leigh Pace had sitting out front near the door. Gabby stopped. A baseball bat. “Well, it’s better than nothing.”
She retrieved the bat and then headed back toward the cottage. How odd Main Street seemed with absolutely no one around. She’d never seen it deserted, regardless of the day or time she’d driven in. Another festival workday? Something significant had to be going on. Strange that Kelly hadn’t mentioned anything.
About a mile from the mailbox and turn, Gabby pulled off the road and into the woods, hiding the Malibu from view behind dense foliage. Grabbing the bat, she took off toward the cottage, avoiding the driveway and getting too close to the clearing.
The branches underfoot crunched with her steps. In the silent woods, the sound seemed magnified. To her left, something scurried off. She glimpsed it from the corner of her eye but couldn’t make out what she’d seen. Probably a raccoon or something like that. Trying hard to move soundlessly, she gave up on that. The undergrowth was too brittle and dry, so she hoped for making minimal noise instead.
Curving around trees in her path, she made her way to a point lining up with the far end of the front porch, hoping Bain and Fallon would park close enough that, should the need arise, she could get to them before they got to Plumber or Kelly.
In position behind a massive twisted oak, Gabby checked her watch. Five o’clock. Her heart raced, and she touched a hand to her chest. Please, keep them safe. Please. Please . . .
A car approached on the driveway. It was black. As it drew closer, she recognized it as an SUV, so seeing Fallon behind the wheel didn’t surprise her. The door to the cottage opened and Plumber and Kelly stepped out onto the porch. Jeremy, parked on Kelly’s hip, wailed at the top of his lungs. That did surprise Gabby. The child had a sunny disposition and had been all smiles and giggles. Now he raged, and he definitely had a set of lungs on him. Trying to calm him down, Kelly ducked back into the cottage and then came right back out onto the porch. She’d wrapped a blanket around Jeremy and held him snuggled to her chest. It didn’t seem to slow his crying. If anything, it intensified.