Page 95 of Deathmarch

Shannon patted her arm. “You never had that, did you? Well, you’re always welcome in my kitchen. And you’re right, it is homier.” She led the way.

“We have matching limps,” Allie observed.

“We’ve been down, but we’re not out, and that’s what counts. How do you feel about butterscotch cookies?”

“If it was legal, I would marry them.”

Shannon laughed as she pulled out a kitchen stool for her. “All right. Here.”

Then she went off for another mug while Allie settled in and looked around the familiar space. She used to come in for cookies and lemonade after mowing the lawn. The fridge might have been replaced, but not much else. There was a sign above the window she didn’t remember being there before, white letters painted on a tan background, the wood decorated with dried flowers.

LIVE YOUR BEST HOPE INSTEAD OF YOUR WORST FEAR.

“I saw that on a billboard outside town.”

“Henry used to say it all the time,” Shannon told her. “I sent it in when the call went out for the billboard campaign for quotes that embody hope. Then I caught myself driving out just to see it up. So I had a sign painted for the kitchen. Carol Kerlin did it. Remember her? Used to work in the library. She’s been big on the craft-show circuit since she’s retired.” Shannon looked up at the sign. “She did a good job. And it’s a lovely sentiment, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Allie said, then couldn’t help herself from adding, “Even if it’s not too practical.” At Shannon’s inquiring expression, she shrugged. “Expect the best, prepare for the worst. Right?”

“As long as a person doesn’t spend all their time preparing for the worst and miss when they stumble across the best.”

Allie sincerely hopedherbest was yet to come. Because so far, the year had been crap: losing bookings, being arrested for murder, getting banged up…

She selected a cookie and focused on that. “You know, I think the last time I had these was here in your kitchen.”

Shannon brought her a steaming mug of fragrant tea. “That’s way too long to go without butterscotch cookies.”

Allie gave a heartfelt sigh. “You’re telling me.”

And then she lost herself in the culinary delight that was Shannon’s baking, almost too happy to worry about the note she’d left for Harper and how he would take it.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“A-andwe got the warrants.” Harper sent them to the printer with a click of a button, then jumped up from his seat.

“Can I come?” Mike asked.

“You and everyone else available. I expect the suspect to own weapons, so I want everyone in full gear.”

“You don’t think he’ll cooperate?”

“He won’t answer my calls.” Harper headed to the back for a bulletproof vest. “I drove by a couple of times this week, but he didn’t answer the door. He didn’t show up for his interview.”

Mike nodded as he followed close behind. “Doesn’t sound like a guy who aims to please.”

“Let’s play this safe. Overwhelming force. I want a peaceful surrender.”

“We could do a quiet evacuation of his immediate neighbors before we even knock on his door.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” Harper pressed the Velcro of his vest into place. “We lost Old Man Lamm. I don’t want anyone else dead.”

At least Allie was no longer in danger. Brittany was in lockup until Monday morning. Zane was getting his head looked at in the hospital, under Chase’s watchful eyes.

Allie was safe, and Harper had a lot more to say when he got back to her.

Forget playing it cool. He was ready to lay his cards on the table.

* * *