by Aiden Bates
I glanced to the tire iron that I’d had tucked away in the umbrella stand by the door for exactly this kind of situation ever since Josh’s note had arrived. “Yeah. I think I can manage that.”
“Doors locked? Windows shut?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” I sank my teeth into my lower lip, biting down until I nearly tasted blood. “Am I overreacting here?”
“No such thing right now. Stay put, okay? Don’t leave the house. Get yourself into a room with at least two exits, but don’t turn off any lights.”
“Then what?” There was a waver in my voice, one that betrayed exactly how terrified I was. For my life. For my baby’s life. For what might happen next.
“Then nothing. I’m five minutes away. Headed over now.” Harper’s voice was firm and confident. The most reassuring thing I could’ve imagined in that moment. “I’ll be there soon.”
7
Harper
As I guided the Mustang off Third Avenue onto Holly Street, I glared at the speed limit sign. Nothing quite like a printed piece of metal to tell you how fast you were allowed to go in a time of crisis—and with a murderer on the loose, doing twenty-five miles per hour felt more like doing five.
Luckily, the car was still outside Nick’s house when I got there. Even luckier, the man inside it was still in the front seat. As I pulled my car up along the curb across the street from him, I caught a glimpse of a phone pressed against his cheek.
Bossman calling to give orders, maybe. Maybe just phoning his client to give word that the target was at home, suspected to be alone.
Either way, it wasn’t this man’s employer he was going to have to answer to in just a few minutes. If he wanted to sit outside of people’s houses and make them afraid for their lives, then he was going to have to tango with me first.
I put my car into park but left it running. Popped open the door, but didn’t close it behind me as I got out of it. The slamming of a car door might spook Nick’s nighttime visitor into taking off before I could talk to him—and if things went down poorly, I might need to make a speedy getaway. If nothing else, it would lead the man away from Nick’s house. At least, for the night. And if he came back again…
I grunted in annoyance, checking the gun in the holster at my hip to make sure it was loaded and chambered. The safety, which I normally kept on in all but the most dire of times, I made a point of flicking over to off.
I didn’t like that this mystery man knew where Nick lived any more than I liked him camping out across the street from Nick’s house. It suggested a level of coordination, of sophisticated information gathering and planning, that only a high-level enemy would be able to string together. Whoever this guy was, if he’d managed to figure out who Nick was, how he was connected to Joshua’s case, and where to find him, it was likely that he was good. Unlikely that he was working alone.
With that in mind, I cast a final glance up at Nick’s house, spotting his face in one of the upper windows. Idiot. I’d told him to get into a room with two exits. I thought he was smart enough to rule out taking a window out onto the roof.
If we survived this—and I was determined that we would—Nick and I would need to do some special education classes in how not to wind up dangling over his hedges, clinging to his drainpipe for dear life.
I drew in a deep breath as I approached the vehicle, my fingers ready to pull out my gun at the first sign of hostile movement. But as I loomed over the driver’s side window and gave it two raps, to my surprise the man inside jumped with a start.
“Hold—just, fucking, hold on!” I could hear the man grumble through the window as he pressed the button to roll it down. Now that I could get a better look at him, I could see that he was staring up at me with puffy red eyes and a swollen, hot pink nose. “Sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something here. Can I help you?”
“Ah—sorry, just…” I paused, hearing a voice bark out from the man’s phone as he pulled it away from his ear.
“Oh, so you couldn’t hold on to Mopsy’s leash for five fucking minutes, but you expect me to hold on now?” a deep, distraught voice bellowed from the other end of the phone.
Well, that wasn’t what I expected.
Rats.
“Just making sure you’re okay,” I said gently, moving my hand away from my pistol and letting my jacket fall back over it. “I’m really sorry, I just saw you parked out here in front of my house and you looked pretty torn up about something—figured maybe you’d blown a tire.”
“Nope—just my relationship,” the man said, sniffling and rubbing a tear out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t mean to worry anyone. I was just out at Eaton Park with my Alpha’s idiot dog—”
“What did you just call Mopsy? Jamie, you bastard, she’s not an—”
“She got away from you, huh?” I asked, cringing sympathetically.
“She bit me,” Jamie corrected. “Then she ran away. But my Alpha, he thinks she’s some kind of innocent little angel, wouldn’t hurt a fly…” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m sorry for bothering you. I’ll be on my way in just a sec.”
“We’ll keep an eye out for her,” I assured the man, patting his car and backing away. “Take all the time you need.”
My shoulders slumped in relief as I crossed the street over to Nick’s house, giving a little wave to the upstairs window he’d been peeking out from to let him know everything was fine. By the time I turned the Mustang off, locked it, and flipped the safety on my gun back on, he was at his front door, opening it with a grateful look in his eyes.
“Not an assassin, then?”
“Only thing that man’s killed recently is his chance of getting laid for the rest of the month,” I said with a little laugh. “Lost his partner’s dog. They were having it out on the phone when I went over to see what was up. You’re safe, though. Promise.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” Nick took a step forward, throwing his arms around me and hugging me tight. When he pulled away, there was a light pink tinge to his cheeks. “I mean, it sucks about the guy’s dog, and I’m really sorry about calling you out here so late at night, but—”
“It’s fine. No harm, no foul.”
“No…I’m an idiot.” Nick pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb. “With Joshua’s murder hanging over my head and all these stupid pregnancy hormones to navigate… Ugh. I’m getting paranoid.”
“Nick. Knock it off.” I reached out to rest a hand on Nick’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was firm and well-muscled beneath my grip. Felt…well, felt nice. Not that I was concerning myself with that at the moment. Private investigating was lonely work, but thankfully, not quite lonely enough that I planned on turning this moment into something that I could jerk off over later. It was just nice to know I’d been able to help. “You’ve got every reason to be worried right now. I’m glad you called. Better safe than sorry, right?”
“I guess so.” Nick laughed. “But now I’m safe and sorry. Do you want to…I dunno. Come in? I could make you a cup of tea for your troubles, at least.”
I returned his laugh with an easy smile. “No need. As long as you’re safe, I’ll go ahead and take off back to my hotel for the night.”
“Please?” His lips pressed out into a gentle pout—one that was hard for a man like me to ignore. “I feel bad for bothering you. If you won’t stick around for a bit for your own sake, come in and let me make you a drink for mine?”
I quirked my head to the side, looking for a good reason to take my leave and failing to find one. It had been a weird day already. Nick was good company. And after everything that had happened since I’d gotten the call about Josh…
“Yeah, okay,” I relented. “A cup of tea sounds nice.”
I sat at Nick’s kitchen table as he set the kettle on the stove to boil, feeling the tension that had been in my shoulders ever since he’d called me slowly melt away. It felt a little strange, being fussed over like this. I supposed it should’ve—I hadn
’t had someone like Nick around to do things for me in a long time.
Sniffing the air, I raised an eyebrow and cleared my throat.
“You have a mishap with dinner or something?” I asked, nodding to the bowl of half-eaten pasta on the countertop as the charred sweetness of burned food filled my nose.
“Dessert, actually. I got so nervous, I forgot about that completely. Sorry—I know it stinks.”
“Not half as bad as my hotel room does,” I assured him. “That smell will fade. Mold and mildew, on the other hand…”
“You’re at the Moonlight Inn, aren’t you?”
“How’d you know?”
“Worst place to stay in town.” Nick’s brows knitted together with concern as he poured the boiling water into a mug with care. It had the words WORLD’S SEXIEST DAD on it—probably a joke gift, I determined.
I smiled as he placed the mug before me, holding up two tea bags for me to choose from.
“Chamomile or peppermint? Sorry, I’ve only got herbal around now that the baby…”
“Chamomile’s just fine. A sugar and a splash of milk, if you’ve got it.”
Nick nodded, bustling over to the sugar jar and pulling milk out of the fridge. His own mug had a Facebook Like printed on it over the words I’m not antisocial, just not user friendly. I chuckled at it as well.
“Maybe we ought to trade mugs,” I pointed out, nodding between the two. “Yours seems like it describes me better than you, and mine…”
Nick laughed. “You think I’m the world’s sexiest dad, huh?”
I tilted my head to the side, smirking. “I’ve seen worse.”
“Goodness, Harper. You sure do know how to charm a guy.” He took a sip from his mug, then slid it over to me, taking mine in its place. “Honestly, I haven’t felt sexy since I aced my pregnancy test.”
“No?” I raised an eyebrow, taking in the way the low lights of the kitchen highlighted Nick’s cheekbones beneath his glasses. “You’ve certainly got that pregnancy glow. Not feeling it, though?”
“What I feel is paranoid,” Nick revealed. “Antsy and unsafe and nervous—almost always. Dr. Lemon—he’s my OB/GYN—keeps telling me I need to calm down. I’ve got a family history of preeclampsia, and…”
“Feeling like you’re being watched all the time can’t make that easy.”
“Easier now that I know I can call you up anytime the tree outside my bedroom window makes a spooky shadow on the wall.” He laughed, but it felt a little forced. Like he was trying his best to be a good host when he must’ve spent most of the evening being exhausted and scared. “I really am sorry for screwing up your night. You probably had plans, and—”
“Yeah, you really cut into my reality TV time on the Moonlight’s shitty old CRT. How am I going to figure out which brother is the biggest one now?”
This time, Nick’s laugh was warm and genuine. “If I hadn’t burned dessert, I could’ve at least offered you some, though. You’ve provided me with a little peace of mind tonight, and all I’ve got to give you in return is a cup of chamomile.”
“Good thing you brew such a good cup, then.” I raised the mug to him in a toast, then took a sip, feeling the warm wetness of where Nick’s own lips had just been on the rim, milky and sweet. “You don’t need to make a fuss about this, Nick. If anything, I ought to be thanking you. You’ve saved me from a few awkward hours spent lying on a lumpy mattress or drinking lukewarm beers at the Moonlight’s bar.”
“Still, I wish I could do more…” Nick looked away for a moment, but I could see the wheels turning in his head as he wracked his brain for a better way to repay me. When something finally clicked, his whole face lit up. “You know…I’ve got a spare room here. It’ll be the baby’s room eventually, but with another eight months before that has to be ready and you sleeping at that derelict old hotel…”
“Don’t worry about me.” I shook my head—tempting as Nick’s offer was, I knew better than to take him up on it. “I’m fine out there. Really. Don’t want to impose on you like that.”
“No—honestly, you’d be doing me a favor,” Nick assured me. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but… I feel a lot safer with you here, Harper. And if you’re going to be around for a while… it’d be more comfortable. Save you a chunk of cash, too.”
“I’ll be all right,” I told him, but even as the words left my mouth I could feel him winning me over. As much as I liked the idea of staying somewhere that didn’t leave me dousing myself with cologne to get the scent of damp out of my clothes every time I left, Nick was pregnant. Alone. Vulnerable—and very likely, still in some kind of danger. I liked the idea of making him feel safe even more.
“Let me do this for you.” Nick reached out across the table to me, folding his hand over mine. “For Joshua. Please?”
“I…” I glanced toward the window. The Mustang was parked right outside. “I’ll need to go grab my stuff from the hotel, but if you insist—sure. Just, know that you can kick me out at any time if I start to get on your nerves, okay? This investigation will leave me keeping some weird hours, and—”
“Thanks, Harper.” Nick squeezed my hand, flashing me a grateful smile. “I’ll come with you. If you want, we can drop by Love Muffins on the way and I’ll buy you a slice of pie. Amelia Lovett makes a great apple cranberry. It can be my first gratitude payment to you.”
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Only because you missed out on dessert. But that’s all you need to pay me—putting me up here is more than enough already.”
“It’s a deal, then.”
We finished our tea and took the mugs to the sink before heading out to the Mustang. It’d been ages since I’d had anyone in the passenger seat, and I had to toss several of my notebooks into the glove compartment to make room for Nick, but as I revved the engine to life, even I had to admit that it was kind of nice, having him along for the ride. He was hot, sure—but he was also smart, and with a little instruction, I knew he had the capacity to be clever about this whole thing too. Normally, I worked alone—but if anyone was going to ride shotgun with me through this mess of an investigation, I could do worse than having someone like Nick by my side.
As we pulled away from Nick’s house, though, I heard a second engine purr to life. Casting a glance in my rearview, I expected to see Jamie’s car pulling back toward the park to continue the hunt for Mopsy.
Instead, my eyes caught sight of an SUV just before it flicked on its headlights. It hadn’t been there when I arrived, and yet…
The SUV pulled up behind us, keeping just enough distance that it might have looked legitimate. Might have—but sure as hell didn’t feel that way.
I tightened my fingers around the wheel as I turned onto Third Avenue. A few seconds later, the SUV made the same turn.
It wasn’t Nick that was being followed.
It was me.
8
Nick
As we drove, Harper had the same look in his eyes that I’d seen in the eyes of Salinger Image execs when one of their clients got caught sending dick pics. Grim caution. High alert. When we’d first gotten into his Mustang, there’d been the hint of a smile on Harper’s lips. A relaxation in his shoulders. The sense that everything was quiet, calm and nice. But no sooner than we’d turned onto Third Avenue, his gaze had been shifting between the road ahead and the pair of headlights in his rearview mirror. Every turn he took—many of them actually leading away from the Moonlight Inn—was made with the kind of care that broadcasted loud and clear: something was up.
He drove like every move he made could very well be his last.
“Is everything…okay?” I asked as we finally pulled into the Moonlight’s parking lot. The rundown old hotel loomed up over us, too big to be sustained in a town like Fort Greene where better accommodation was easily available, so ancient that I was surprised it was still passing the town’s fire codes. The giant red M on the hotel’s neon sign out front flickered, as did the L. Half the ti
me, it was just spelling out OONIGHT over the VACANCY sign.
“Might have to put that slice of pie on hold,” Harper admitted, getting out of the Mustang and watching an SUV drive past the parking lot until its taillights faded into the darkness. “But otherwise…yeah. We’re good. You mind coming in with me?”
“Lots of stuff to carry?” I climbed out of the Mustang and breathed a sigh of relief. With Harper on edge but unwilling to tell me why, I was happy for any excuse not to wait outside without him.
“Nah. I can manage. Besides, you’re not a bellhop. Hardly feels right, making you haul my bags around.”
“I’m stronger than I look,” I assured him, holding up an arm and flexing a bicep beneath the sleeve of my t-shirt.
Harper admired it for a moment, then forced a grin. “Not bad, for a data nerd. But don’t sweat it—you’re pregnant, remember? Just don’t want you getting into trouble while I’m gone.”
“Do I look like the kind of man who gets into a lot of trouble?” I winked at him as we fell into step together, making our way towards the lobby. “We data nerds aren’t exactly known for TPing houses and egging cars.”
Harper laughed. “Nick, you’ve got trouble written all over you. Come on—if you behave yourself, I’ll let you hold the door for me while I haul my shit out to the car.”
Harper’s hotel room was even worse than he’d described it. The lopsided old armchair in the corner looked too unstable to even sit in, its tweed coverings freckled with cigarette burns on the arms. The wallpaper was peeling away from the wall at the corners, stained yellow with smoke up toward the top—and the print on it was, well…
“Did you book here because you have a thing for clowns?” I asked, cringing at the little red-nosed white faces that grinned eerily in crooked lines on the wall.
“Booked here because I didn’t want any company.” Harper pulled back the heavy brown curtains at the window, pointing to the parking lot outside. “Our car is the only one in the parking lot, see? No one else in town is dumb enough to get a room here, and the online reviews keep tourists out as well. Makes it easier to tell if you’re being followed—just scan the parking lot for another vehicle.”