They cheered and clapped, and then silenced as Josie held up her hand.
“While Alex can’t be here, I want you to meet the man who saved his life. Brendan Pope, the head pastry chef of the Serenity Inn, and one hot biker dude. The man who turns out food fit for angels and rides his Harley like the Devil’s on his tail. Get yourself on out here and say hello!” Josie said.
“This is your cue,” Liz said, and gave Brendan a push. He entered the room through the same door as Josie, minus his chef coat and cap, wearing the white shirt and blue jeans he’d worn to work. He was a sight to behold as he walked out onto the stage, immediately dwarfing her diminutive size.
The oohs and aahs and the occasional whoop of delight were enough to send Brendan packing, but he’d promised Liz he’d endure this, so he made himself wave and smile.
“Thank you for doing this,” Josie said. “And thank you, sir, for saving my brother’s life. As a memento of my undying appreciation, my record label and I want to give you this award for heroism in the face of danger. I don’t know all the details of that day, but I know what Alex told me. The bus was smoking. The engine was already on fire, and you didn’t run away. You ran toward danger. You popped the back exit to give people access to escape and then saw him standing on the overturned bus, about to pass out from blood loss, and pulled him down and carried him to safety. Thank you from all of us,” Josie said, and handed him an ornately carved plaque.
The applause continued long and loud until Josie held up her hand to silence them, then Brendan moved to the mic.
“You know that old saying about being in the wrong place at the wrong time? I’m no hero. I did what any man would have done. The only difference between me and them was that I was in the right place at the right time. There were dozens of heroes there that day. Police, firefighters, and EMTs. Jubilee is good like that. We take care of our own, and the visitors who knock on our doors. Have a great day, and hope you enjoy the food.”
Josie’s photographer snapped multiple shots of her and Brendan onstage, and of him receiving the award. He flashed one last smile and exited the stage.
Josie turned to the audience and grinned. “He looks as good walkin’ offstage as he did walking on, doesn’t he, ladies?”
After that, the party continued. Brendan was back in the kitchen with his award propped up on a shelf, getting chastised by the crew for staying mum about what he’d done, but he just smiled and kept on working.
Chapter 13
A knock at the door, and then a familiar call.
“Housekeeping!”
Harley got up, looked through the peephole, then opened the door. It was Sophie, the maid she saw every day.
“Good afternoon, Miss Banks,” Sophie said, and entered as usual with an armful of clean bedsheets and fresh towels for the bath.
“The same to you,” Harley said. “I’ll try to stay out of your way.” She took a seat in a chair facing the open doorway.
After Crossley’s warning about a hit man, this had become the time of day when Harley was most on alert. The door stayed open as the maid went back and forth to her cleaning cart, and Harley’s handgun was in the kangaroo drop pocket of the sweatshirt she was wearing. She wasn’t turning her back on anyone.
Sophie was all business as she began to dust, empty wastebaskets, and then go down the hall to the bedroom to clean the bathroom and change the sheets.
Another uniformed staff member arrived with thesnack cart, quickly refilled the mini-fridge and replenished snacks, and was soon gone, but today, the traffic in the hall was heavier than usual.
There were a lot more people coming and going, moving past the cleaning cart, laughing, talking, or looking down at their phones.
Harley guessed it was all due to Josie Fallin’s big event and thought of Brendan, wondering how he fared during times like this. He seemed to stay calm in the midst of chaos. Even when he had confronted her father about how he was treating her, instead of shouting louder, his voice got quieter and somehow more threatening. She suspected Brendan didn’t rage; he just got even. Maybe because he’d grown up in a household war, it was the last thing he chose for himself when it was over.
She glanced up at the time, thinking Sophie must have had her own busy day. It was just after 3:00 p.m. Late for housekeeping.
She would remember later how everything after that moment seemed to happen in slow motion.
Sophie banged a cabinet door.
Harley glanced toward the open doorway.
A man was standing beside the cleaning cart, staring at her. A face she remembered!
She was grabbing for the gun in the kangaroo pouch of her sweatshirt as he was reaching beneath the back of his jacket.
Sophie appeared in the hallway.
“GET DOWN!” Harley screamed, and then was diving toward the floor as she took aim and fired.
The shots went off simultaneously.