Page 29 of A Very Daddy Christmas

“Eva!” Cora exclaims upon seeing her, then rushes in for a hug.

The sisters hold each other close for a few moments. Eva’s eyes can’t look away from the mess—or from us. “What happened here?”

“Orson St. James,” Cora sighs and pulls back, wiping a fresh round of tears from her pretty eyes with the back of her hand. “That’s what happened.”

“I don’t understand.”

I take a deep breath and explain what we walked into, then Cora picks up and delivers the rest of the story. Hearing the details causes rage to bubble beneath the surface, threatening to blind me into a murderous frenzy. I still have a mind of going after those two fucks, but I would have to find them first, and if they have half a brain, they’re long gone by now.

We convince both of them to have a seat at one of the tables while Riggs turns the closed sign over the door. Red and blue lights flash nearby and they’re getting brighter. The sheriff’s office has been alerted by the commotion; probably a 911 call from one of the neighbors.

“We’ve known for a while that Orson may have ties to some really unsavory people in this city,” Sebastian says.

“Those glass displays cost a fortune,” Eva whispers.

Cora sighs deeply. “I know.”

“I assure you, replacing all of this will be not be an issue,” I say.

“What are you going to do? Pay for the damages?” Eva snaps. “You didn’t do this. You’re not responsible.”

“No, but we like to consider ourselves friends of the bakery,” Sebastian kindly chimes in. “Unless a bigger offer comesthrough for this place, chances are you’re going to become building owners when the escrow expires. And we’re here to support you.”

“Why?” Eva asks.

“Because Cora is a good person and a friend, and she didn’t deserve this. Neither did you. Like it or not, we’re involved now,” Sebastian says.

Eva shakes her head. “You gave us too much money already.”

“I see where Cora gets her hyper-independence from,” Riggs chuckles dryly. But neither Eva nor Cora seem amused.

“You can’t throw money at every problem,” Cora says. “This is serious. Orson St. James sent those guys over here to scare and intimidate us. Possibly worse.”

“Exactly. This cowardly move tells me he doesn’t have the funds to top your offer. And neither does George Hamilton, the man who’s supposed to buy this place once you’re evicted,” I say. “He’s desperate.”

“The sheriff is here,” Riggs mutters.

A deputy joins Sheriff Foreman as he walks into the bakery, their brows furrowed and their eyes registering every detail.

“Good day, gentlemen, ladies,” Foreman says. “We got a call through dispatch about a fight happening here. What’s going on?”

“Sheriff, thank God you’re here!” Cora jumps from her seat.

The guys and I stand back and let Cora lead the conversation. The more I listen, the angrier I get, but there’s one thing that pisses me off even more. Deputy Jones seems appalled by whathe’s hearing, Foreman, not so much. I register the furrow of his brow and the flare in his nostrils, but that’s pretty much it as he takes notes in his pad. He doesn’t seem to understand the urgency of the situation.

“Your cameras, are they working?” he asks, his tone too calm for my liking.

“Yes, sir,” Cora says. “I’ll give you all the footage. Not an issue.”

“Deputy Jones will handle that.”

Eva escorts the deputy into the back office to give him a copy of the camera footage. I make a mental note to check those images as well. Everything happened so fast earlier, I didn’t register as many details as I would’ve liked.

My ribs hurt a little. One of them got a punch in, though he received twice as much back.

“Sheriff, we believe the men were sent here on behalf of Orson St. James,” I say, analyzing his immediate expression carefully. “I doubt they’re on his payroll, though.”

“That’s a nasty accusation,” Foreman replies, giving me a doubtful look. “Mr. St. James has done nothing but good for the people of Madison. I see him every Sunday in church, for heaven’s sake.”

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