“I don’t know what you have going on in Dry Gulch, but Luca’s planning to double-cross you. He wants you out of the picture so he can take over either by forcing you out, getting you arrested or killing you.”
Her father didn’t seem surprised to hear that. “And you know this how?” he said from between clenched teeth.
“Because I’m your daughter. I’m more like you than you think. It’s why I stayed in Dry Gulch and why I’m going back. I plan to stop him.”
He stared at her. “Youplan to stop him?”
“He thinks I’m still in love with him and that I will do whatever he tells me to do, foolish woman that I am.” Her father raised an eyebrow as if agreeing about the foolish part. “I think I felt something for him at first. It wasn’t just about rebelling, at least I don’t think it was. But I don’t anymore.” Her hand went to her slight baby bump. She shook her head, thinking about the offer Donovan had made her. She’d felt so touched, yet she never wanted him to know how close she’d come to tears. “Luca and I, not anymore.”
“What do you need from me?” he asked after a moment.
“Whatever you’re planning to do during the grand opening of Arnie’s café, keep Donovan out of it.”
“Donovan?” Malcolm shook his head. “Didn’t Luca tell you the plan?”
“All I know is that he bought a whole lot of explosives from one of the crew members working on the Dry Gulch hotel swimming pools. I’m assuming he plans to blow something up with you in it.” Lolly saw her father’s expression and smiled. “I take it getting blown up wasn’t part of your plan for Arnie’s grand opening?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Arnie couldn’t help being nervous as grand opening day at the café arrived. The same group of older women had marched around out front of the café earlier, no doubt in preparation for the actual opening. Only this time, Goldie hadn’t come over and run them off. He’d thought about calling the sheriff but decided against it. The soap had been removed from the windows. As he opened the blinds, he saw the women stop pacing up and down in front of the café to turn in surprise.
As the blinds rolled up, the women stepped closer to see the changes he’d made. The booths had been replaced with new higher-backed ones. The upholstery on the booths and counter stools had all been replaced with red leather.
He’d also replaced the table tops and counters with black Formica. He’d had the men gut the kitchen, starting over from scratch with shiny new equipment. Everything shone, making him beam with pride as he saw the old women step closer to see everything he’d done. He could see that they were impressed even though grudgingly.
As he put up the open sign, he felt a swell of excitement mixed with pure terror. Today was the day. At the end of it, he would be the owner of his dream café with Malcolm Mandeville. But there was also the chance he’d be dead or behind bars again.
Right now, prison didn’t seem such a bad option if everything went south today.
IT LOOKED LIKEany other day on the main street of Dry Gulch before the doors of Arnie’s café opened for the celebration, the sheriff noted from his office down the street. A few people slowed to glance through the now clean front windows of the café, as if curious. But no line formed as the minutes ticked by until ten when the grand opening would begin. If Arnie had expected a crowd outside the café this morning in anticipation, he must be disappointed, Max thought.
For the town, there was no apprehension or dread since only a handful of people knew what might be happening in the next hour, as the sheriff watched from behind his desk at the office.
Only a few vehicles were parked along the street, but that was normal for a Wednesday morning. A resident walked her dog on the sidewalk outside, stopping to wave at him as she did every morning, before moving on.
Max looked at the time. Five minutes to ten. The armored car was scheduled to arrive at the bank between ten and ten thirty this morning. So far there was no sign of the armored car or Mandeville or anything unusual happening, as if it was just another day in Dry Gulch.
The sheriff could almost convince himself that he’d been wrong. That nothing about this day would be any different than any other, except for the anxiously awaited grand opening of the new owner’s café. The doors were set to open at 10:00 a.m. sharp, Arnie had written on his flyer.
Max had taken that as a sign, since it corresponded with the arrival of the armored car carrying a historic amount of cash. Every precaution had been taken. Extra deputies were on hand. The state police had been notified of his suspicions and were standing by. The sheriff had paid another visit to the bank on his lunch hour yesterday. He’d insisted on seeing the basement again. Unfortunately, he’d heard nothing. Worse, he’d seen no sign that the wall had been tampered with, let alone breached.
He tried not to doubt himself. After all the jackhammering he’d heard in the café basement, he doubted that it would take much to blow a hole in the old bank wall. Once in, the thieves would have the run of the place.
But until Mandeville made his move, that’s all Max had. Suspicions. His radio squawked.
“A large dark SUV just pulled into town,” Rance reported.
Max had his deputy watching the main street from the fourth-story window of the hotel, armed with binoculars along with weapons. “Can you see them?”
“I’m looking through the binoculars. Wyoming plates. Can’t see who’s in the vehicle yet. Just a minute. Okay, it’s them. Mandeville is in the passenger seat. Don’t recognize the driver.”
“How many in the rig?” Max asked.
“Two. But there’s another vehicle coming into town. Another big SUV. It’s Mandeville’s second-in-command, Luca Havers. He appears to be alone. Mandeville’s just parked in front of the café. Looks like Havers is going there as well.”
Max looked down the main street to watch Malcolm Mandeville get out of the first SUV. He’d never met the man in person, but he’d seen his photo—just as he’d seen the man’s second-in-command’s mug shot. Luca Havers took his time getting out of the second SUV.
“The man who was driving appears to possibly be a bodyguard?” Rance radioed. “He’s definitely carrying.”
