One Spoonful of Trouble (Felicity Bell Book 1) Read Free Page A

held the weapon in both hands.
    Poor guy, he thought. He’d never met a stick-up woman before but he knew just how her victim must feel. He’d once joined a troop of marines doing reconnaissance when they’d come under fire. He’d sweated bullets and wasn’t too proud to admit he’d nearly wetted himself.
    This guy hadn’t wetted himself as near as he could tell, but he was definitely sweating. His face was simply covered with some sort of white secretion.
    He surveyed the scene, trying to decide what to do. A little voice in the back of his mind told him to stay put. For one thing he was unarmed and at an obvious disadvantage, and for another he was a reporter not a cop, so heroics wasn’t required on his part.
    But then again, he couldn’t just let the poor schmuck die.
    Deciding he had the element of surprise, and priding himself on his great aim—he’d been something of a prodigy in Little League—he selected a can of Bush’s Baked Beans from the rack behind him and weighed it tentatively. It had the kind of heft he was looking for and he decided it was go time for Rick Dawson.
    He drew a bead on his target. He only had one shot at this, so he made sure his aim was true. Finally, with a soft grunt, he let rip with all the power of his right arm.
    The can sailed through the air and described a perfect arc. Before the woman knew what hit her, Condon Bush’s gift to bean lovers had done its work and the gun was slammed from her hand.
    She let out a yelp of surprise, and the figure kneeling at her feet saw his chance. Moving quickly and without hesitation, he went for the gun. And he would have reached it if the woman hadn’t raised her foot and given the man a kick in the trouser seat that landed him in the prepared foods section.
    Rick winced. That must have hurt. Cool as dammit, the woman picked up the gun, and towered over the man, her face set in an expression of contempt.
    “Try that again and it’s game over, buster!” she thundered.
    Rick couldn’t help but admire her sheer chutzpah. She acted as if she owned the place. Shaking his head, he took out his cell and snapped a few quick shots of this latter-day Bonnie Parker.
    He figured if he sent these to Suggs Potter, the editor just might reconsider Rick’s untimely termination.
    He crouched down and out of sight, not wanting to be discovered by the mad bandit, and while possible headlines presented themselves to his practiced reporter’s brain, he made sure to keep a low profile. He didn’t want to miss a thing but he didn’t want to become her next target either. He’d risked life and limb trying to save the poor bastard now immersed in Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo, but he wasn’t going to be so foolish again.
    The woman was a seasoned pro, that much was obvious.
    Moments later, he heard the telltale siren of an approaching police car and he relished the coming showdown. He wondered how the boys in blue would respond to this situation. And he had a first-row seat. Talk about luck!
    He picked up a Dr. Pepper and a bag of Pop Crunch and hunkered down. This was going to be a great show and he might as well sit back and enjoy it.

CHAPTER 4

    Rafi Papandreou stared frantically from one security monitor to the next. Though he’d never really expected his deli to be the target of a hostile takeover by armed bandits, he’d heeded his mother-in-law’s warning several months before and had installed the expensive security system. Now he was holed up in his ‘safe room’ behind the counter, the door locked and bolted, and was trying to assess the damage this gang was wreaking on his precious store.
    Rafi’s Deli had only been open for business six months when a thunderstorm wrecked the shop window. Barely a few months later there had been that idiot who’d plowed his truck into the shop and then there was the freak accident with the tree being hit by lightning and taking out the front window yet again.
    And now this.
    He was starting to believe