Breaking Barriers (Love Is Book 8) Read online

  “Good thing we made the place presentable, huh?” Tiredness kept her from starting an argument by pointing out she knew what she was doing when it came to merchandising. He apparently didn’t have a clue.

  Freddie fingered the blue umbrella that matched the chaise lounge. “Yeah. You were right.”

  She was probably right about him putting the fish by the door too. Why was Freddie making conversation when he wanted to get rid of her?

  The bell tinkled, and James came through the doorway.

  Freddie straightened. “Hello, sir. Can I help you with something in Beach Guy?” He motioned toward the cut-out.

  James winked at Ann. “Sure.”

  * * *

  James followed Freddie to the table in the middle of the floor.

  Freddie waved his chubby hand with brown hairs on the knuckles over the merchandise then glanced at the carpenters banging in the back of the room. “Everything’s over there until we finish remodeling. It’s a little jammed, but I’ll help you find whatever you need. If we were any closer to the noise, I don’t think we could hear each other.”

  “Uh, yeah. You’re probably right.” James froze as he stared at the mussed up t-shirts lying amid dress shirts and crumpled pants.

  Freddie stiffened then separated the clothing. “I’m sorry, man. I had several customers in a row. They charged in here and snatched up garments like wild animals.” Freddie put his hand over his mouth. “Excited shoppers they were. Excited about our sale, I’m sure.”

  James picked up a blue shirt with a button-down collar. “This is nice. It’s rather difficult to find this style, and I like it.”

  Freddie chuckled. “I hear you. So do I.”

  “I’m glad you understand. Have you worked in men’s clothing long?”

  “No. I was laid off at the pizza parlor. I’m a friend of Harold Craven’s brother, Joe. I guess you wouldn’t know, but Harold owns Beach Lady. He’s a bit older than Joe and more...uh...what would you say...sophisticated. But he seems nice. He needed someone to open his new men’s store.” Freddie waved his hand toward Beach Lady. “That thing is called a boutique, but I guess that’s all right as long as this side only says Beach Guy.”

  James chuckled. “I think people will make the distinction. So, you’re an apprentice?”

  “I’m on my own. Ann gives orders, but she’s not much on teaching.”

  James gritted his teeth. How dare he degrade Ann. It was unprofessional and rude. “Have you asked her questions about retailing?”

  “Not really.” Freddie crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Maybe you should, especially before you speak unkindly of her in front of a customer.”

  Freddie’s face turned red. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  James held out the blue shirt. “I’ll take this one.”

  “Good deal.” Freddie rang up the purchase at the register in the back amid the banging. “Thanks for shopping at Beach Guy.” He slid the merchandise into a bag and handed it to James.

  James wandered back into Beach Lady and stood beside Ann, who rearranged sundresses on a rack. “Is it too late to ask you out to dinner?”

  Ann stared at the dress she held. Had his spur of the moment invitation offended her? “I know you’re busy, but people usually don’t plan a lot on Monday.”

  “I’ll probably have to straighten the garments in Beach Guy before I can leave.” She used an angry tone and drew out the word “straighten.” “But I could go later.”

  “How about nine o’clock at The Wharf?”

  “That’s perfect. I’ll come over as soon as I lock up.”

  “Great. See you then.”

  * * *

  Ann turned out the lights in Beach Lady, snatched her purse from under the counter, and trod into Beach Guy. It looked as though Freddie had made an attempt, but the half-folded t-shirts resembled those stuffed in dresser drawers, not display items.

  She folded a red t-shirt to display the front of it then picked up a crumpled blue one. The air conditioner clicked off and an eerie quiet fell. The glow from the store that sold aquariums across the parking lot went out. The small bistro next to it grew dark. Did she hear footfalls? A man’s silhouette moved in front of the window. Was it Harold?

  Only the two of them knew the combination to the safe, where she left each day’s earnings. At Harold’s convenience each night he entered the store, took the money, and deposited cash for making change the next day. If it was Harold outside, why didn’t he come in? Ann shivered. She put down the shirt, grabbed her purse off a pile of pants, and switched off the lights. The parking lot lampposts partially lit the deserted area, but dark shadows loomed as well. Was someone hiding in one of them? She was probably a little spooked from the attack at the bank. Still, safety first. She fished her key fob out of her pocketbook, turned the lock on the door to Beach Guy, and slipped through the doorway.

  Her car at the end of the row of parking spaces in front of Beach Lady might as well have been ten miles away. Harold had requested she leave the closer slots for customers. Her chest tightened as she lowered her head and hurried toward her vehicle, her breath short. Footsteps clomped behind her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ann’s shoes pounded the pavement as she stepped into a dark shadow. The footfalls grew louder, closer. She dashed toward the car. Thuds resounded then a hot breath on her neck. Go faster. Go faster. Her pulse beat in her temples as she punched her car door opener.

  A blue glow cut into the dark. She raised her gaze and puffed out a sigh of relief.

  Derick. God’s timing. She waved as she slid into the driver’s side of her vehicle, her hand still trembling when she pressed the ignition button. She backed out and looked around. No one.

  It had to have been Freddie. He knew she’d be in the store late straightening out the mess he left. If he couldn’t aggravate her into quitting, he’d scare her into it. He’d better think long and hard about his antics. She’d make sure they didn’t work. She clenched the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white.

  Within fifteen minutes she parked under a hundred-year-old oak tree in front of The Wharf and scooted out. Pebbles crunched underneath her shoes as she strolled to the entrance of the white plank building, which resembled a plantation home. Inside,she brushed past a large dieffenbachia plant on her way to the rustic wooden hostess desk. “Hi, I’m meeting someone on the deck.”

  The petite lady with short black hair smiled. “James?”

  Ann stepped back. “Yes.”

  “He’s waiting for you. I’ll show you to your seat.”

  A soft breeze blew off the lagoon and caressed Ann’s cheeks. She relaxed her tight muscles as the hostess opened the glass door. She escorted Ann to a table overlooking the yachts and fishing boats in the harbor.

  The golden glow of an oil lantern on the railing beside James shone on his finely chiseled features and dark brown hair. He could’ve been a hero from a scene in a romantic movie.

  He turned toward her and waved.

  Ann’s heart fluttered as she pulled one of the tall wooden chairs up to the table, scraping it across the plank floor. “Hi.”

  The corners of James’s lips turned up. “I’m glad you could come. I have good news. At least I think it’s good news.”

  “I sure could use some. Wait until you hear what happened.”

  The waitress hiked over to them. “Hi, I’m Joanne. What can I get for you?”

  “Uh...” James grabbed one of the large laminated menus from between the mustard and ketchup bottles and studied it.

  “I can come back if you want.”

  James held up his slender hand. “No, I’m ready. I’ll have the amberjack with fries and water to drink.”

  “Sounds good, except I’d like coleslaw rather than fries.”

  “You got it.” The waitress turned and left.

  James placed his elbows on the table. “You first.”

  “Freddie’s trying to frighten me in
to quitting my job. Tonight while I worked late he lurked around the building. Then when I left, he followed me. I was so rattled I hardly could think straight.” Ann gestured with her hand. “I put my head down and dashed to my car. I’m not sure if he would have hit me or not, but Derick, the policemen who answered your 911 call at the bank, drove in. The footfalls behind me disappeared.” Ann tried to keep her voice from cracking, to no avail.

  James’s blue eyes softened in the corners. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think it was Freddie.”

  Ann sat up straight. “Well, who do you think it was?” James didn’t know her father or her brother.

  “I believe you’ve been targeted by those in the anti-Christian group. Remember, you started True Light Guardians.”

  James couldn’t be more wrong. “They don’t know True Light Guardians exists. It’s a brand new, secret organization. We have an underground network sharing information with other Christians.”

  “You should consider letting someone else take over.”

  The veins in Ann’s neck throbbed. “Absolutely not.” She opened her mouth to say how dare he make such a suggestion, but she gazed at the earnest look in his eyes. He only wanted to help. She could trust him, and she needed a friend. “I’m sorry. You’re entitled to your opinion.”

  “You’re blazing a way for other Christians to follow. It’s a very brave and important thing to do.”

  Ann waved her hand. “Pfff. I’m just trying to do what’s right and preserve the faith I love.”

  The waitress served the food and James picked up his fork. “No. There’s more to it. I believe the anti-Christians have an agenda. I’m not certain what it is, but they’re going to a lot of trouble to rid this country of Christianity. It’s almost like the faith is the last stronghold before they break through to something.”

  Ann put her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t considered any ulterior motives. “Like what?”

  James shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, something they think they can control if they obliterate Christianity.”

  Ann was more determined than ever to make True Light Guardians succeed, to reestablish her church. “Well, I resent them using my religion as a means to their end.”

  The waitress laid down the bill as James slapped the table lightly with his palm. “You’re missing the point. What you’re doing is dangerous.”

  “I know. Christianity’s dangerous. The anti-Christians killed eighty percent of our church members, but I still don’t think those terrorizing Christians know about True Light Guardians.”

  James took a sip of his tea then munched the last of his fries. “I can see I’m not going to convince you.” His shoulders slumped.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll pray for you.”

  Warmth zipped up Ann’s spine.

  “At least believe me about Freddie. It isn’t him. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I browsed in the store and bought a new shirt to learn more about Freddie. I’m convinced he’s as harmless as a moth. He might aggravate you. Actually, he used to work in a pizza parlor. He has no experience in merchandising. You need to help him.”

  Ann turned James’s words over in her head. Had she failed to give Freddie a chance? She knew little about him personally. What if James was right? “I haven’t been a good Christian as far as Freddie goes, and I know it. Tomorrow I’m going to have patience with him and be a friend as well as a co-worker.”

  “That a girl.”

  Ann fished out her billfold, but James held up his hand. “I asked. My treat.” He left cash on the table. Then they stood.

  He escorted Ann to her car and waited while she unlocked it. He held the door open as she slipped into the driver’s seat, a wistful look in his eyes as though he wanted to kiss her.

  “See you soon.” He closed the door, and she backed out.

  Was she reading too much into their friendship? If not, could she handle a relationship with her father’s angry voice still calling out to her?

  * * *

  Ann stepped inside Beach Lady, the sun streaming onto the check-out counter. In the still, quiet store on early mornings, Ann often reflected on the privilege and responsibility of running it successfully as though a little part of it belonged to her. Pride rippled over her skin.

  Someone inhaled and exhaled behind her. She jumped. Who followed her inside? She breathed deep and turned. Harold.

  “Good morning.” She tried to sound cheerful as though she was happy, not shocked, to see him.

  Dressed as though he was headed to an important meeting, he wore a dark linen suit that matched his brown eyes and a light green shirt. He strolled to the mannequin Ann had placed in the window a couple days ago and fingered the capri pants. “Hi. Is this part of the new stock we received last week with Freddie’s orders?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Harold’s balding brown hair made him appear older than his forty years and probably had made him slip from one of the area’s top ten most eligible bachelors. He’d been so precise about the way he wanted the store run after his grandmother died and left it to him. Had the responsibility of owning it aged him? He was a demanding boss, but Ann couldn’t complain, for he’d been generous to her.

  Freddie entered and gave Harold a light slap on the back. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine, fine.” Harold smiled, but he rushed his answer as though he didn’t want to get involved in a conversation. Then he handed Ann a black coin purse and some bills rolled up in a rubber band. “I planned to stop by, so I brought the money for making change.”

  Freddie twisted his mouth to one side, then he ambled over to Beach Guy as Ann took it. “Did you get yesterday’s—”

  “Cash? Yes, and I’m so pleased that profits aren’t down even though we’re remodeling. You’ve done an admirable job handling the addition, training Freddie, and accommodating the workers. I want to give you a little bonus.” Harold reached in his jacket pocket, pulled out a white envelope, and handed it to her.

  “Thank you. That’s really thoughtful.”

  “Not at all, it’s good business. If I want to keep reliable employees, such as you, I need to reward them. I intend to do just that.”

  Ann stepped to the side to shake his hand and caught Freddie peering around the cutout. Her bonus was none of his business. “Well, I appreciate it.”

  “Feel free to keep it in the safe until you leave tonight.” Harold turned and headed out, waving over his shoulder. “Later.”

  Ann peeked in the envelope, gasped then giggled. Four hundred dollars. She would put it in the safe. She turned the knob to Mr. Craven’s age, and it clicked. She twirled it to his birth month, eight, and twisted it back to the day, fourteen. It opened. Harold had kept his grandmother’s simple code, changing the first number each year on his birthday.

  She pushed the envelope in, shut the door, and whirled around to open the cash register. A stocky man with black stubble and long greasy hair glared at her with hateful eyes that danced in their sockets as though he saw something he wanted and was excited he was about to get it. Was he going to rob Beach Lady? Ann’s insides turned ice cold.

  She swallowed hard. “May I help you?” She barely heard her frightened tone.

  He bored evil holes into her.

  She wanted to call out to Freddie, but her voice had gone mute.

  Freddie stepped over. “Hey man, I think you came in on the wrong side. You’re not going to look good in any of those bikinis.”

  The man leaned back and a menacing chortle flew out of his mouth.

  Ann’s nerves raced as though someone had turned them to high.

  Freddie stared at the man like a guard dog. “Did you want to see some men’s shirts, sir?”

  “No,” the man grumbled, turned, and stomped out the door.

  Ann’s stomach churned like a washing machine. She wanted to hug Freddie. “I’m so glad you were here. I think he intended to hold up Beach Lady.”

  Freddie patted Ann�
�s shoulder. “He looked up to no good, but who knows? He probably wandered into the wrong store. We used to have homeless people come in the pizza parlor where I worked. Usually they seemed harmless. We gave them leftovers from the pizzas we cooked for the bar.” Freddie scratched his chin. “But evil radiated from this man. I don’t know him, but it’s odd. He looked familiar. I can’t imagine why.”

  “He gave me the creeps.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s gone now.”

  “Hopefully we let him know we can’t be robbed easily. Even though no one’s ever tried, Harold only keeps a small amount of money here.”

  “Yeah, it’s okay. It’s strange we didn’t hear the bell, though.” Freddie directed his gaze toward the door.

  “Oh, you’re right. He scared me, so I didn’t think of it. I was distracted when I came in earlier, but I don’t believe it jingled.” Ann rushed over, flipped up the ringer, and pointed to the clapper, only a nub. “How did this happen?”

  “Maybe Harold accidentally banged the door too hard when he left last night and broke it.”

  “Possibly.” Ann trekked back to the counter, wrote a note asking Harold to replace the bell, then leaned down and put it in the shoe box he checked for messages. She brushed her hands together. “Before customers swarm in here like bees, let’s straighten up Beach Guy.”

  The carpenters entered as Ann and Freddie reached the other side of the store.

  Ann picked up a green t-shirt Freddie had folded in half. “Remember to display the front of the garment.”

  “Do you think I really need to do that? The other way’s so much easier. Customers come in and mess them up.”

  Ann seethed inside but tapped her toe and counted ten times. What would she have done without Freddie this morning? And she’d vowed to be a friend to him. “I’ll show you.” She folded one shirt correctly and another sloppily, laid them side by side, and stepped back. “Now, be honest. Which of these are you more likely to pick up?”

  Freddie studied them. “I see your point, but the customers who come over here are beasts. I could spend all day re-doing shirts, and it keeps me busy just hanging pants and jackets on the racks.”