Peeking over the side, Maddie spied a fire escape that ran down the edge of the building. “Why didn’t we just climb up this way?”
Emmett got near the edge, looking over without getting too close. “I’ve had enough rickety metal ladders to last a lifetime. Besides, it’s a fire escape. To keep people from climbing up here, it ends seven feet off the ground and you have to unlatch the extension and let it drop. The stairs through the store seemed more civilized.”
She supposed that was true.
“I’ll take this side,” Emmett said, pointing to the southeast side of the building. “Do you want to take the other side?”
“Okay. Text me if you see anything.”
Emmett nodded and walked to the far corner to crouch down and watch. Maddie went to her side, although she didn’t imagine much would happen there. She had a view of the police station—which would be bold of the vandal to try marking—the fire station that had already been hit, the Methodist church where he’d burn in hell for defiling the temple of the Lord, and the hardware store.
She crouched down and pulled up her binoculars. The streetlights were bright enough to highlight anything in the distance, and a car with headlights would be pretty obvious. She spent a good half hour watching and, once again, seeing nothing. Then she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. Coming up Magnolia Way past the Methodist church was someone on a bicycle. The dark shape didn’t have a light or any reflectors on it the way someone exercising in the dark should wear.
Grabbing her phone, she texted Emmett. I’ve got a guy on a bicycle headed this way. Turning onto Rosewood Avenue.
She slunk low along the edge of the electronics store, following the bicyclist as he passed the building they were in and rounded the corner onto Main Street. Whoever it was, they were heading toward the square and away from the police station.
I see him, Emmett replied to her text. He’s turning down First Avenue, like he’s circling the building.
Avoiding the police station, Maddie thought. She crept to the front of the building, where she met Emmett. The guy peddled his bike over to the sidewalk just outside her bakery, then he stopped.
“Oh no,” Maddie said. “He can’t.”
“Just wait,” Emmett said, reaching out to hold her arm. “We’re not sure what he’s doing yet.”
Maddie knew exactly what he was doing. She watched as he slipped off his bag and set it down, unpacking cans of paint.
Before she knew what she was doing, she was running across the roof, heading straight for the fire escape. She climbed down, jumping onto the Dumpster beneath it, then to the ground. She ran down Magnolia Way as fast as she could. It was stupid. Dangerous. The guy could be armed, but she didn’t care. He might’ve damaged her car, but she’d be damned if he was going to put one drop of pornographic paint on the wall of her bakery.
Stopping on the other side of the street outside the hardware store, she reached into her purse and pulled out her pistol as the man raised his arm to start his painting.
“Don’t! You! Dare!” she shouted.
Startled, the man turned around. His eyes grew large as he realized he’d not only been caught but that he was staring down the barrel of a gun. He raised his arms in surrender, a can of garish orange spray paint in his hand.
“Maddie!” Emmett’s voice rang out in the distance, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to blink for a second and give him the chance to vandalize any more of her property. She certainly wasn’t going to let him get away, either. She had this little creep in her sights.
“Drop the paint,” she said.
The vandal dropped the can in his hand, letting it clatter to the ground and roll across the sidewalk.
She still couldn’t see the guy’s face. The streetlights were casting shadows across most of his features. “Step back into the light.”
When he didn’t move, Maddie took a step forward into the street. “Don’t think I won’t shoot you. I’m a southern girl, born and raised, and I know how to handle a firearm. I’m not going to miss.” She let a wicked grin spread across her face and lowered her arms just enough for the gun to point at his crotch. “You seem really obsessed with men’s genitalia. Maybe that’s what I’ll aim for.”
With a gasp, the man covered his crotch and scrambled into the light. “P-please don’t, Maddie. It was just a prank. A little excitement for a sleepy town.”
She recognized his voice before she saw his face. It was Clark Newton, the owner of the newspaper.
“A little excitement?” she shouted, ignoring the sirens behind her. “Are you going to pay for the excitement you left across the hood of my Mercedes?”
“I wasn’t hurting anyone,” he argued. Both his hands were still cupped firmly over his goods.
The police car pulled around the corner then, separating Maddie from her target. She lowered her gun once Simon and Sheriff Todd leapt out of the cruiser and pinned Clark against the still-pristine bakery wall.
“What the hell was that?” she heard Emmett say from behind her.
Maddie shrugged and slipped the small pink pistol back into her purse. “What was what?”