DOWN COLDER: A Hallie James Mystery (The Hallie James Mysteries Book 3)

by DK Herman

  DOWN COLDER

  A Hallie James Mystery

  DK HERMAN

  RUN FASTER

  A HALLIE JAMES MYSTERY

  DK HERMAN

  ©June 2017 All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced without written consent of the author. This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and other incidents are the product of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, events, locations, or organizations are purely coincidental.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lately, I've been off the sauce and on a dating bender. I declared personal prohibition after my first blackout. It was an awful experience to not remember what I'd done the previous evening. Even worse, I woke up naked, and my ex-boyfriend, Hank Ross, was in my shower. After he assured me that we hadn’t had sex the night before, (because I'd passed out) I had another first when I threw a hunky, naked man out of my bedroom.

  In spite of not having had sex for a year, it wasn’t as difficult as it sounds. I was suffering from a ginormous hangover, and the jackass told me that we could be together, if I quit my job. And then he offered me a job in his bar. Yeah, like that was going to happen! I've learned the hard way that nobody is worth giving up my dreams.

  Taking Hank home while I was schnockered, told me I was ready to date after my marriage ended so badly. So I've been on blind dates set up by friends, and friends of friends, and now I was giving online dating a shot. So far, I hadn't found anyone worth a second date. Several hadn't made it through the first.

  I'm Hallie James, a private investigator with my own firm. I live and work in the small town of Herville, Pennsylvania. I live with my Gram, her new husband, George Murphy, and my Aunt Jeannie in a huge mansion that's been in my family for generations.

  Yes, my family is well off. I was too until my conniving weasel of an ex-husband made off with my trust fund and almost everything I owned. Hence, my previous dating drought. There's nothing like being forced to live for six months in a thirty-five-year-old RV to put a girl off men.

  I'd grown attached to the RV and named her Chitty. I still have her. My bestie, Gabrielle Ross Thomas, and I are taking Chitty to the shore in ten days. I can’t wait to feel the sun on my face, and the sand under my butt. I went swim suit shopping with Gabi last night. I’m happy to report that I found two suits that didn’t make me want to flip off the dressing room mirror.

  With honey colored, gold highlighted hair, leaf green eyes, and a naturally slim build my looks were holding their own. Even though I'd turned forty last December, men still seemed to find me attractive. But standing next to Gabi with her petite, curvy body, and natural, long blonde curls I felt less confident.

  Not that I begrudge my friend her looks. OK, I was a little jealous. But realistically, someone is always going to be smarter, prettier, faster, stronger, etc. You can’t let feelings of inferiority rule your life. Besides, Gabi is so funny, sweet, and outgoing that it’s a delight to hang out with her.

  It’s Friday afternoon, and I have another date tonight. A computer match, I’d met him for coffee earlier in the week after doing a background search on him. He seems normal enough. His name is Brian Sims. He lives in Bloomsbury, a town about twenty minutes south. My computer search revealed he’s never been married and owns a home near his job at the pretzel factory.

  Brian drove a newer model SUV to the coffee shop and was well groomed. He has thinning, light brown hair and gray eyes, which is a slimmer build than what I usually went for. Plus, he’s a little short compared to my height of 5’8”. But compared to my previous dates, he’s prince charming.

  I agreed to let him pick me up tonight and take me somewhere nice for dinner. Looking forward to a fancy restaurant, I also bought a gorgeous, new dress on last night’s shopping trip. If I didn’t have my grandmother’s dogs in my car, I’d stop at the mall for new shoes.

  Buddy and Princess are technically my Gram’s dogs, but they spend a lot of time with me. Princess is pure American Pitbull Terrier with a white and brown coat. Buddy is a Pitbull/Lab mix and all dark brown except for his white chest and white toes on a front paw. Other than their coloring, they look very much alike.

  After discovering how much they like to ride in a car, I started taking them along on errands when it’s not too hot. Today I’d picked them up at lunchtime and took them to the vet’s office for their shots. Afterwards, I decided to take them to my office for a while before I went home early to get ready for my date.

  “That wasn’t very nice of you two, sniffing that poor poodle like that,” I said to the pair of dogs in the back seat of my metallic green Yukon Denali. “I know a dog with its rear-end dyed purple looks funny, but more than one sniff of someone’s butt is rude.” I knew they were just curious, but the poodle’s owner was under the impression that all pit-bulls were killers. She reacted like a foul-mouthed wife of a fish-monger. This caused my gentle dogs to both try to climb into my lap.

  Both dogs sat quietly, head turned, looking out the windows as if they didn’t hear a word I said. But they both looked like they were smiling and enjoying the ride.

  “I think I’ll stop at Brew’s and get some donuts,” I said. I chuckled, watching the dog’s heads whip toward me, their ears standing up straight.

  I parked across from my office, unbuckled my seat belt, and grabbed the dog’s leashes. Outside my agency's door, I paused to admire the brass plaque that read James Investigations before leading the dogs inside.

  Linda Young sat behind her desk in the reception area. Her professional smile widened when she saw Buddy and Princess. Linda is a former bank teller who decided it would be more fun to work in a PI’s office than retire. “Come here, babies,” she crooned. “Give me some kisses.”

  I let go of the leashes and Buddy and Princess eagerly complied.

  “Ben in his office?” I asked.

  “Yep,” Linda answered between giggles while getting her face washed.

  “Come on, guys,” I said, clapping my hands. I walked back the hall. The first office belonged to my computer personnel. Poppy Hopper and Rayna Paynton are the best in their field. The agency depended on their skills. Poppy is George Murphy’s granddaughter, so we’re related by marriage. Rayna is her best friend. They can find anything or anybody in the cyber world, and they know all the tricks to keep us and our clients safer online.

  Their door was ajar, and I could see them both sitting at their computers, fingers flying over the keyboards. Not wanting to disturb them, I kept walking and knocked on the next door.

  “Yeah,” a male voice answered.

  I opened the door and peeked inside. Ben Gordon, my assistant/intern sat at his desk with the phone at his ear, and a framed poster of Jim Rockford on the wall beside him. Ben is thirty, tall and well-built with thick, wavy, dark blonde hair and gold eyes. And he has a smile that could charm the pants off a nun. He’s also a genuinely nice guy. We’ve become very close in less than a years’ time, and I love having him in my life.

  Ben’s from Ohio. When his little sister we
nt missing, he tracked her to Herville. But poor Cara Gordon had been murdered along with several other young girls. Ben helped me investigate, then he decided to stay and become a private investigator. He was learning quickly, and I felt comfortable leaving him in charge of the office.

  “Be right with you, Hal,” he said, flashing a smile that gave me a glimpse of the sexiest dimples I’ve ever seen. “That sounds great, Trevor,” he said into the phone. “I’ll drop off my share after work, and we’ll go for a couple beers.” Ben finished up his phone call as the dogs ran into his office to greet him.

  “I’m going to Brew’s.” I smiled, watching him cuddle Buddy and Princess. “Do you want anything?” Brew’s is Herville’s best coffee shop and is a few doors down the street.

  “I’ll walk along with you,” he said. “I haven’t been outside since this morning.”

  “Thanks for taking care of things while I’m out, “I said.

  Ben stood up and stretched his tall, well-muscled form. “No problem. You’re leaving again soon to get ready for another big date, right?” He had a smug look on his face.

  “Yes,” I replied. “Don’t look like that. This guy’s much better than the others.”

  “That’s not hard to believe,” Ben said with a grin. “The others kinda set the bar pretty low.”

  “I shouldn’t tell you everything.” I sighed. But he was right. One of my best dates so far, was the guy who smelled like a cross between dirty feet and a skunk’s ass. When I couldn’t hide my disgust, he got insulted. Indignantly, he explained the smell was an expensive cologne he bought online. The website claimed it contained pheromones that would drive women wild. I demanded he drive me home with all the car windows open.

  Another promising date was the son of one of my aunt’s church friends. He took me to an amusement park. I was enjoying myself until his mother joined us. He admitted that he lives with her and has been between jobs for three years. When I got to sit by myself on the roller coaster, because he sat with her, I claimed the ride had made me sick and went home in a taxi.

  Last weekend, I went to the movies with a guy who works for the street department. Afterwards, he noticed a few dog hairs on my jeans. He shook his head and clucked sadly, informing me that any pets I owned would have to go when he moved in with me.

  I told him to bust off, but the word I used in the place of bust, started with an f.

  The door to the office across from Ben’s opened, and my office manager, Jessica Stein, stepped into the hall. Jessie’s a pretty, thirty-six-year-old divorcé. Recently she became engaged to another good friend of mine, Andy Ross. Andy is the brother of my ex-boyfriend, Hank. He’s also Herville’s newest and best police detective.

  Jessie kept the office running so smoothly, I didn’t feel bad about poaching her from an insurance agency.

  “There’s a couple things on your desk that need to be signed before you go home for the day, Hallie,” she said. The dogs came to her for some affection and she obliged.

  “Ben and I are going to Brew’s,” I said. “Want anything?”

  “An unsweetened iced tea, please,” Jessie said. “I brought fruit and crackers from home.”

  “That’s no fun,” Ben teased.

  “Neither is the ten pounds I gained this year.” Jessie gave Princess another pat on the head. “I can’t eat anything I want, like you two.”

  “How about a blueberry muffin?” Ben grinned. “Blueberries are fruit.”

  “Pass,” Jessie said. “But I’ll watch the kids while you’re gone.” She led the dogs into her office and shut the door.

  Poppy and Rayna were still busy in front of their computer screens, so we checked with Linda before going out the front door.

  “It sounded like Trevor got a cabin,” I said as we strolled down the sidewalk. The late June sunshine made me feel happy and lazy. I couldn’t wait to close the office for a week and lay around on a beach all day.

  “Yep,” Ben said. “He got us a cabin right on the lake. We’re gonna fish and drink beer, all week.”

  “Sounds like fun but I’m glad I’m going to the shore.” I took off my sunglasses as I reached Brew’s entrance.

  The inside of Brew’s smells heavenly. The scent of fresh baked goods mixes with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I inhaled deeply and studied the contents of the pastry case. I fogged up the pastry case glass eyeing a half dozen of my favorite, chocolate chip scones. I ordered them with an iced mocha latté, Jessie’s unsweetened iced tea, and peach iced tea for Poppy, Rayna, and Linda.

  I took my order and waited by the door for Ben. He came away from the counter with a large soda and a pastry bag. We walked outside, the afternoon air felt even warmer after the air-conditioned coffee shop. I licked some of the foam from the top of my coffee and closed my eyes, savoring the sweetness on my tongue. When I opened my eyes, I found Ben watching me with a strange expression on his face.

  “What?” I asked. “Is there something on my face?”

  “No. Nothing,” Ben said, looking away. He pushed his mirrored aviators back on his face and started towards the office.

  We got back and passed out our goodies. Ben came into my office and offered me a double fudge brownie to go with my scone. I accepted and started to read the papers Jessie'd left for me to sign. There was a couple of new client contracts and an ad for an assistant for Jessie.

  We’d talked about hiring someone to help Jessie and alternate Wednesday and Saturday mornings with Linda. The business was doing very well, and I had no living expenses or car payment. Since Ben couldn’t be licensed in Pennsylvania until he interned for three years, I was also considering adding another PI. What good was money if you didn’t have time to spend it?

  I signed everything in the pile and joined Ben on my office couch. He was throwing pieces of peanut butter cookie to Buddy and Princess, who sat at his feet.

  I kicked off my sandals and put my feet up on the coffee table. Sighing with contentment, I sipped my latte and nibbled on a scone. I looked over at Ben to ask what his weekend plans were and saw him looking at me with that strange expression again.

  Deciding he'd tell what was on his mind when he was ready, I ignored it and picked up my brownie. "Do you have big plans this weekend?" I asked before biting into chocolate heaven.

  "Nothing special," Ben said. He threw the last of the cookies to the dogs. "What about you? Besides your date with the bald guy."

  "He's not bald," I said with an eyeroll. "I said his hair is thinning."

  "So his mop still has a few strings left." Ben chuckled. "But at least he's your age, right?"

  "Yeah, I know. He's not what I like physically, but maybe my days of dating hotties are over." I said with a shrug. "Most of those types are himbo's anyhow."

  "Himbo's," Ben repeated and broke into giggles. "I love it!"

  "What else do you call a male bimbo?" I put the rest of the brownie into my mouth. "I should get home. Are you OK with taking the four o'clock appointment by yourself?"

  "It's just a store manager wanting employee background checks," Ben said. "Piece of cake."

  I stood up and dusted crumbs off my Capri's. "Then I'll see you in the morning." I grabbed my purse before Buddy, Princess, and I went out the door.

  Gram and George were standing in our driveway as I pulled in and parked. Three teenage boys were walking around George's car, one practically drooling on the fenders. I don't mean George's light blue Caddy. This car he’d bought when he returned from Vietnam. It had been carefully stored since the early nineties.

  The 1966, Danube Blue Chevelle SS had been out of his garage and road ready since May. Every day, George and Gram left in the deep, vibrating splendor of duel exhaust. They looked adorable in matching Ray Bans, tooling around Herville in the cherry muscle car. George called the car Ursula, and he had offered to let me drive her. But I hadn't had the time yet. And I must admit, I'm a little scared. It's a terrific car, and I'd hate to be behind the wheel if anything happened to it.<
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  I sat in the Denali and admired my home for a moment. It was built in the 1870's by my great, great grandfather, who also made and passed down a growing fortune. The house is huge and made of mellowing brick. Two wings, three stories each, spread out from the two story, main building. The double front doors with sidelights are painted white to match the large front porch. All around the property are flowerbeds and bushes blooming with color, and the grass is neatly manicured.

  As I slid out of my Denali, Buddy and Princess ran to inspect the newcomers. Two of the boys cringed when the dogs cautiously sniffed their legs. They stood stiff, afraid to move until I called the dogs back to me and took their leashes. I actually understand people's fear of the dogs. At first, I was afraid of them too.

  "I'll put them in the backyard," I said to Gram and kissed her soft cheek.

  "Thank you, dear," she said. "We'll meet you on the patio."

  I nodded and glanced at the boys. The oldest boy, who looked about seventeen with blond hair and a nasty overbite, was talking about buying the Chevelle.

  George shook his head in the negative. "I'm not looking to sell her. If I ever do, I'll let you know. But you'd have to come up quite a bit from five-hundred dollars." George chuckled.

  "But it's so old!" The boy argued. "I'm doing you a favor by taking it off your hands."

  I stopped on the porch and sat on the swing while George tried to let the boy down gently. Finally, George and the teen exchanged cell numbers, and the boys left in a Mitsubishi.

  "Sell Ursula for five-hundred dollars, my eye!" George exclaimed as he walked, hand in hand, with Gram to the porch.

  Gram smiled and snuggled into his shoulder. "They're just boys who don't know any better. And they admire your car so much." She smiled into George's face.

  "All that jabbering has me thirsty for a tall glass of lemonade," George said. "How about you, Hallie?"

  "Sure," I agreed. I got up and followed them into the house.

  After a quick stop in the kitchen to see Liv, we all went out onto the patio with a pitcher of lemonade, and a plate of Liv's raisin cookies.