Christmas Cover-up. Cassie Miles
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.”
She wriggled out of Danny’s embrace and came back toward Cody. “If I could get Chez Mona to serve some of my pastries, my business would take off.”
“I can’t make any promises,” he said. “We’ll talk to the chef.”
“Hey,” Danny interrupted. Like all politicians, he hated being ignored. “This isn’t a dating service.”
“I know,” Rue said crisply. “I was almost killed.”
“That’s not the way I heard the story,” Danny said. “You chased after the shooter. Damn it, Rue. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I did what I thought was right.” She stood up straighter, stretching her height to maybe five feet, four inches. “It’s like you always used to tell me. Sometimes you have to use your weapon to fight the bad guys.”
She must have touched a nerve because Danny looked surprised. “Did I say that?”
“Frequently,” she assured him. “You always told me to aim at the midsection. The largest target.”
Though she looked as innocent as a newborn fawn, she didn’t seem to have any trouble standing up for herself. Cody was beginning to be intrigued by this sweet little cake-baker with a backbone of tempered steel.
A second ambulance parked at the end of the driveway as the first team finished loading Carlos the bodyguard into the rear and pulled away.
“Will Carlos be all right?” she asked.
“Should be.” Danny squinted after the ambulance. “One bullet to the thigh.”
“And Mr. Lindahl? Is he…”
“Dead,” Danny said. “It was fast. There was nothing you could have done to save him.”
“Three bullets in the chest,” Cody said. “Sounds like a professional hit.”
“Let’s leave the investigating up to the police,” Danny said coldly. “Thanks for keeping an eye on my stepdaughter. I’ll take it from here.”
Cody wouldn’t allow himself to be so easily brushed aside. Rue was his ticket to the inner circle, and he wasn’t going to let her get away. “It’s no problem,” he said as he took her arm. “I’ll be happy to escort you over to the ambulance so the EMTs can take a look at you.”
“Really,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“You’re shivering like a leaf in the wind.” He turned up the charm. With a smile calculated to melt butter, he leaned close and whispered, “Let me take care of you.”
Though he recognized