“Someone’s declared war on you,” Fletch said.
“So it would seem.” And given the escalating weapons they were using, he could only imagine what his two nemeses would come up with next. When was that aspirin going to kick in?
“You should go home, boss. Get some rest.”
“Whether I’m there or here, I’ll be doing the same thinking.” He’d only feel worse at home.
“Then, sit your backside down on that sofa.” Fletch pointed at the worn leather seat behind the door. “Or get yourself down to the urgent-care clinic. I’m not losing two bosses in less than a week.”
“I’m touched you care.” Luke did as Fletch requested and sat. Mercifully, the room stopped playing Tilt-A-Whirl.
Cash wandered over and dropped his chin onto Luke’s knee, doggy eyebrows knitting in canine concern. Luke scratched the top of his furry head. “I’m fine, boy.”
Even the dog looked skeptical.
“You might want to clean yourself up.” Fletch shoved a damp towel into Luke’s limp hand. “Unless you want to get blood all over the fine upholstery.”
Luke chuckled. The sofa he was sitting on was older than he was.
“Got it!” Ozzy cackled. “Now all I have to do is...” The rest of his thought trailed off as he dashed to his own desk. A few minutes later he called out, “We’re back online! Wait...now what’s going on? Why have all our file names been changed?”
“See if you can help him, would you?” Luke raised his hand to wave away Fletch. “Give me a few to get cleaned up. Then we’ll see what we can do about retrieving those lost emails. And close the door, will you?”
* * *
“MOM, MOM!” SIMON and Charlie crashed full speed into the diner, flushed faces and dirty shoes a sure sign they’d had an active afternoon. “You’ll never guess what happened!”
“Did you get caught in a mudslide?” Holly bolted around the counter to heft Simon and then Charlie onto stools, but it was too late. She’d have to remop the floors. “What on earth have you two been up to?”
“Nothing,” Simon said, and Charlie ducked her head, avoiding eye contact. “But did you hear? Someone cracked Sheriff Saxon with a bottle. There was blood everywhere!”
“What—? Slow down, Simon.” Holly ran her hands up and down his arms. “Say that again?”
“He was arresting Mr. Winters down by the community center,” Charlie explained, pushing her fist into Simon’s shoulder. “And someone smashed a bottle on his head. Simon and I went by and there was blood all over the sidewalk.”
“Is the sheriff okay?” Paige asked as she and Ursula came out of the kitchen and stopped dead when she saw her daughter. “Charlotte Rose Cooper, those clothes are brand-new. Have you been slogging through mud piles or something?” She plucked at Charlie’s filthy yellow sweater.
“No, ma’am.” Charlie’s chin went down again. “We were just—”
“Exploring on our bikes,” Simon interrupted. “Mom, you should have seen him! The sheriff could barely walk! His whole face was covered in blood.”
“How did you see him?” Holly asked, suspicion overtaking the disgust of what her son and Charlie had conveyed.
“We were riding past the community center when the sheriff and Fletch were putting Mr. Winters in the car. Maybe this means Sheriff Saxon will go away now and Grandpa can have his job back.”
Holly swallowed hard. That Simon was still holding on to that hope was her doing. She and her son needed to sit down and have a serious talk. Luke wasn’t the enemy. At least not the enemy he had been. “I doubt it,” she said. “Luke’s pretty tough.” She’d bet half a year’s rent Luke wouldn’t be going anywhere near a doctor or emergency room. Even growing up, he’d given the impression he didn’t rely on anyone else and preferred to take care of himself.
Given the gun they’d found in Kyle’s bag at the Flutterby Inn, Holly was certain there was more to the story than her son had imparted. “I have a couple of errands to run. Paige, will you be okay for a while?”
Paige looked around at the once again empty diner. “I’ll manage. Oh, I’ll supervise these two cleaning up the floor they just trashed,” Paige said. “Go. You two, march. Into the kitchen and get those shoes off. Pronto!” Their shoes squelched along the floor as they grumbled their obedience.
Holly grabbed her purse and avoided Ursula’s arched brow as she dashed out of the diner and hightailed it to the sheriff’s station to get the truth. Not, she told herself, because she was worried about Luke.