AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
A spicy waft of cinnamon enveloped Sam Draper as she opened the door of Moxie Java, cradling the phone between her face and shoulder as she searched her jacket pocket for her wallet. “I’m here now, babe, and it smells like they have those amazing cinnamon rolls. Want me to drop one by the restaurant before I head back to the station?”
Sam pulled her wallet from her pocket as she said a quick good-bye to her wife, Sara, and dropped the phone back into her jacket. For once, there was no line at Moxie Java, the only coffee shop in the tiny mountain town of McCall, Idaho. Sam congratulated herself on her timing as she spied their famous cinnamon rolls dripping with cream cheese frosting on a cooling tray behind the counter.
“Good morning, Heather.” Sam smiled at the teenager behind the counter, who stared back blankly, her face strangely pale and tense. “I’ll take two of those beauties behind you and a large black coffee.”
Heather bit her lip and stood stiffly in place, an unattended lock of bright teal hair falling across her face, her eyes locked over Sam’s shoulder. The walls seemed to echo Sam’s words, bouncing them across the café, then watching as they drifted slowly to the floor, reverberating in the hollow silence. The tension in the air settled onto Sam’s shoulders as she instinctively shifted her focus. Her eyes flicked to Heather’s hand, stiff and motionless by her side except for the single finger pointing to the left. Sam shifted her face into neutral and turned slowly where she stood, keeping her gaze soft and steady as it settled onto another thin teenage girl. This one held a Glock semiautomatic weapon, her hands shaking, her finger pulled tight against the trigger.
Sam studied the girl’s red-rimmed eyes and uneven black hair haphazardly tucked behind one ear. She wore glasses with a crack down the center of the left lens and had a tense grip on the gun. Too tense.
“Hey there.” Sam kept her voice soft and wished that she’d worn her service weapon while off duty for the first time in her career. “Take it easy. My name is Sam.”
The girl shook her head slightly as if to discard Sam’s words, then jerked her head toward the sound of a young boy coughing in one of the window seats. His mother pulled him closer and whispered in his ear, looking frantically out the window before wrapping him in her jacket.
Sam took a quick glance around at the situation. Moxie Java was at about half-capacity, about fifteen people in the building, including herself and the staff behind the counter. Everyone was staring, their eyes darting back and forth between her and the gun pointed in her direction, including a portly deputy in a beige Ada County Sheriff’s Department uniform handcuffed to the back of his chair. His shiny bald head was slick with sweat, and his wrist strained against the metal rungs as he stared at the gun.
Sam turned back to the shooter and softened her gaze. “Look, why don’t you tell me why you’re doing this? There has to be a reason.” She paused, watching the girl’s eyes fill with tears that were quickly blinked back. “What’s going on?”
“Stop talking!” Her words were sharp, staccato, and seemed to clatter and fall flat onto the floor in front of her. “I just need her—” The girl paused, then jerked her head toward Heather. “To go lock the damn door so no one else can get in.”
Heather waited until Sam nodded, then walked with shaky steps around the counter to lock the door. She hesitated before she went back toward the counter, her eyes still locked on Sam.
“Why the hell is everyone watching you?” A touch of panic elevated the girl’s voice, and her eyes spun wildly around the room. “I’m the one with the gun.”
Silence settled between them. Out of the corner of her eye, Sam caught one of the employees starting to say something, so she jumped in first.
“The rumor is that I look like a tall Tom Cruise.” Sam flashed her most charming smile, silently willing the McCall locals to take the hint and not reveal her status as law enforcement. “So that could be it.”
“No.” The girl studied her with the barest hint of a smile. “That’s definitely not it.”
One of the bussers behind the counter snorted, and she glared at him, the smile fading quickly from her face. The boy in the window seat started wheezing again as his mother dropped to her knees at the end of the booth, pulling him toward her.
Sam kept her eyes on the girl with the gun. “What’s your name?”
“Why?” Her eyes snapped back to Sam. “So you can pretend to care?”
“Look, it sounds like that kid is having an asthma attack. And if he doesn’t get out of here and get treatment, things could get real serious, real quick.” Sam paused, locking eyes with the shooter. “And I can tell you don’t want that to happen.”
“Right, so they can go straight to the cops?” Her glance flitted to
the ground, then back to the boy. “That’s all I need. More police up in here.” Her eyes flicked over to the handcuffed deputy, then back to Sam.
