“Of course. He’s Marigold’s boss. He met Adam a few times.”
Tina decided to swing by the constable’s office and have a chat with Luke. “Have you heard anything else about Adam?”
“Me? No, but I know who has.” Heather waved at her mother behind the counter as she got to her feet. “Mom! Take a break. I’ll fill in for you.”
A moment later, Sally McPhee, a hand towel slung over her shoulder, her pink hoodie half-unzipped, slid into the seat in Heather’s place. Her face was weathered but still pretty, her look stuck in the early 2000’s. “You’re the Asian lady cop, aren’t ya?”
“That’s me. Asian Lady Cop. You should see my OnlyFans.”
Sally laughed so hard that she had to wipe tears away with the hand towel. “Heather said you were funny. What do you want with me? Don’t matter what you’re investigating, I’m innocent. Unless?—”
Tina held up a hand. “You can stop there. I’m not here to bust you for some crime I don’t even know about. I was wondering what you know about Adam Johnson, Marigold’s ex.”
Sally’s expression darkened. “Took too much sugar in his coffee. Sent his eggs back, too. A dud. He pretended to flirt with me, like he was throwing me a bone. Little twerp.”
“Okay, okay. This helps. Did he ever mention any personal details to you? Like where he was from, places he’d been, that sort of thing?”
“Connecticut,” she said instantly. “He went to some fancy private school there. He mentioned it because I was making fun of how he ate his pancakes, and he said he learned it at boarding school.”
“Hotchkiss?”
“That’s a real place? Hot kiss? Crotchkiss?” Sally laughed and laughed.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Tina said dryly.
“Don’t take it as anything. He didn’t say a name. I don’t even know if it was real. Seemed like a poser to me.” She looked past Tina, at the door opening, and her eyes went wide. “Ho. Ly. Fucking. Shit. Guess who just walked into my establishment?”
Whoever it was had instantly inspired Sally to upgrade her coffee shop to an “establishment.” Tina turned to see—who else—Jack Finnegan step through the door.
“Do you know who that is?” Sally seemed to be frozen to her chair. Her only movement was that of her eyes tracking Jack’s entrance.
“Yes, that’s Jack Finnegan, who plays Denver Black on a TV show. He’s not some kind of god. He’s just an actor.” Tina heard the irritation threading thorough her own voice.
“Don’t say that. He’s not just an actor. He helped me quit smoking. I’d get all itchy and I’d pop in a DVD of Dark of Night and boom, no more urges. Other urges, maybe, but…oh my God in heaven, he’s coming this way. Do something.”
“Like what?”
Sally suddenly ducked her head under the table. Tina had never witnessed quite this level of unhinged crushing before.
“Sally, it’s all right. He’s just a normal person. I’ve met him myself and he’s honestly nothing like Denver Black. See for yourself.” She waved at Jack, who was hesitating a few yards away, probably trying to make sure he was welcome. “Come join us,” she called to him.
He smiled and made his way toward them, gracefully stepping between chairs, but when he was just a few steps way, all hell broke loose.
The sound of crashing glass came first.
Then a thud.
Tina’s brain put it all together before her conscious mind could. “Everyone get down!” she yelled. She ducked low as something whizzed past her head. A bullet lodged in the leather seat of a stool. She dashed toward Jack, who had spun around and crouched behind a chair, staring at the broken window and the ocean beyond. She tackled him to the ground. He landed with a hard “ooph.”
“Stay there,” she ordered. “Get under a table.” Staying low, she ran through the room, pushing shocked stragglers to the floor and upending tables so they could act as shields. No deaths that she could see, at least so far, but the bullets were still coming.
She pulled out her phone and dialed Luke’s number, which was already programmed into her phone.
“Shots fired at the Bloodshot Eyeball. Looks like they’re coming from a speedboat. No injuries. Still ongoing.” She switched to her camera app and took a few shots of the boat, making sure to stay below the level of the window frame.
The next thing she knew, pain streaked across her forearm and she was knocked backwards. Her head hit hard against something. Then—blackness.
9
