Kiss or Kill Under the Northern Lights

by Susan Johnson

  Laz looked at him then. “Now you can do anything you want. You’re not beholden to anyone. You understand that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m proud of you,” Laz said. “You done good.”

  The words hit Kerry in the center of his chest. Proud? Laz was proud of him? The fucked-up foster kid?

  No. He wasn’t that kid anymore…

  He cleared his throat. “Do you mind dropping me off somewhere else?”

  Laz’s eyebrows rose.

  Kerry practically blushed, although Laz couldn’t have seen that in the dark.

  Laz chuckled. “Which way?”

  “Take I-30 to the Alpha Street exit.”

  “Don’t tell me! The hottie from the ER?” Laz said.

  Kerry grinned. “If she’ll still have me.”

  10

  “Lucy, it’s Kerry.” He pounded on the door again. “I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you. It’s important. Open up.”

  Finally, the door opened. Correction: she flung the door open. “You have some nerve, mister, coming over here in the dead of—oh!” She stared at his face.

  “Can I come in?” he said.

  She looked down at her bathrobe.

  “Please?” he said.

  She stepped aside, and he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

  In the living room, they stared at each other. She pulled her bathrobe tight around her body, her hands clasping it tightly at the neck. “What happened?”

  She meant what happened to his face, but he needed to start farther back. “I told you I was raised in a boys’ home.”

  “Yes,” she said, clearly confused by the direction of his thoughts.

  “It’s a tough way to grow up. I don’t like to think about it much.” He sighed. “I’ve read the books. I’ve studied psychology. I know I resist connections with people because I’m afraid they’re going to leave me. That happened a lot when I was a kid. Hell, my own parents abandoned me.”

  “Kerry—”

  “Let me finish,” he said, then added, “Please.”

  She sank down on the couch, and he sat down beside her.

  “The image I project to the world—that’s a protective mechanism. I know that on an intellectual level, but I haven’t figured out how to change it in here.” He tapped his chest.

  She reached for his hands, and he folded his around hers.

  “The Strikers were the first family I ever had, that actually felt like a family,” he said. “But after the accident, I realized they didn’t know the real me, either. And I guess I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “Ready to let people see the real me.” He shrugged. “Hopefully people will like me enough to stick around.”

  Hopefully you will like me enough to stick around.

  “There’s so much about you to like, Kerry,” she said fervently.

  He grinned sheepishly. “I’m starting to believe that.”

  She leaned forward and cradled his face in her hands. “For the record, I never thought of you as just a biker. Or just an orphan. Or ‘just’ anything.”

  Looking into her eyes, he felt his protective wall crumble just a little bit more. “I know.”

  “And I’d really like to kiss you right now,” she said.

  He laughed, feeling lighter than he could ever recall feeling. He’d thought it would be scary starting over; instead it was exhilarating.

  The woman in front of him may have something to do with that.

  He tugged her onto his lap. “What are you waiting for, woman?”

  THE END

  About the Author

  Tracey Cramer-Kelly is an award-winning author who has been a “biker chick” herself for over thirty years. She lives in small-town Minnesota with her husband and two children, where they enjoy outdoor activities of all kinds—especially water sports, soccer and motorcycling.

  She spends her days balancing the family business (Leader Motorcycle Accessories), working as a soccer referee, and writing whenever possible. Her background includes a helicopter pilot license and a stint as an Army Reserve combat medic.

  www.TraceyCramerKelly.com

  Robbery at the Lilliput Bar

  By Edna Curry

  The Lilliput Bar reports money missing, but there’s no evidence of a break-in. Detective Chance suspects an inside job, but the owner insists he trusts all his employees and no one could have broken in because his alarm system didn’t go off. So, what’s really going on?

  Robbery at the Lilliput Bar

  ~ Ike ~

  Ike Owen was totally sick of working lousy jobs that didn’t pay much. But now he’d gotten a great idea for making some quick cash after overhearing a conversation at a bar in Dallas a few days ago. A couple of guys in the next booth were discussing stupid things businesses did with their security systems. One claimed that many didn’t change the codes for setting or disabling their systems for years on end. One of the guys said he worked at an alarm company and changed codes for various businesses, so he should know what he was talking about. They both sounded a little drunk, laughing uproariously at people’s stupidity.

  Ike had worked at a little bar in Landers, Minnesota that did a rip-roaring business on special holidays when the tourists flocked to the resort town and he knew how lax things often got in such places. The boss had instructed him to put the day’s take in their little safe and lock up the bar, so he’d taught him the code to activate the alarm. Ike had worked his tail off for peanuts there for years. The damned place owed him, and it was past time to collect.

  Ike nursed his drink and mulled over a plan on how he could do this. His nephew, Tim, worked at that same bar now and had always worshiped Ike. He’d bet Tim could be persuaded to help, if he could figure out how to convince him.

  A couple of weeks later, the perfect excuse arrived in Ike’s mailbox. It was an invitation to their cousin’s wedding in Stillwater, Minnesota, only a half-hour’s drive from Landers. Ike knew he and Tim were both going, and it was the perfect opportunity to carry out his plan. But he’d need Tim’s help, because Ike had only learned to activate the alarm when they closed up. Apparently, the boss had thought teaching only one of the codes to them was a safety measure. And Tim had told him the new boss followed the same procedure. He’d never taught Tim the code to deactivate it, either.

  Ike knew his nephew was gung-ho to leave the frozen northland, so for his help, Ike could promise him a place to stay to help Tim relocate to Texas. That should do it.

  They talked on the phone often, so, he called Tim and talked about the upcoming wedding. Ike brought the conversation around to the bar. When Tim bragged that the boss let him lock up, put the cash in the safe and even activate the alarm, Ike laughed. “I used to do that, too,” he said. “I’ll bet you a beer he hasn’t even changed the code.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Tim said and rattled off the numbers.

  “Yep, same as when I did it,” Ike said with a laugh, pleased that his ploy had worked. “I used to slip a couple of twenties out of the till when I put the money away. Not enough that the boss would suspect anything, you know, just to supplement my income a bit. He often lectured us about being careful about making the right change. Said the till was a little short, we must be making mistakes, you know? So, I’d make a couple of mistakes on purpose.”

  “And it worked?” Tim asked.

  “Sure. I was careful not to take much, you know?”

  “You’re something else, Uncle Ike,” Tim said with a laugh.

  “So, do you close up all by yourself? You aren’t old enough to tend bar yet, are you?”

  “No, I’m just a bar-back guy. Well, and I tend the grill if someone wants a hamburger or something. The regular grill guy leaves early, cause hardly anyone eats late at night.”

  “Well, that’s good. You like cooking, then?”

  “Yeah, I do,” Tim said. “And the guy who usually bartends the nights I work hates cleaning up the
place. So, he leaves right at closing time, and I do the cleaning up, vacuuming and putting the money in the safe, you know? So, it’s still an important job, Uncle Ike.”

  “Sounds like it. So, you close up all by yourself, then?”

  “Sure. I don’t mind that. Sometimes the bartender even slips me an extra ten for not telling the boss he leaves early, you know?”

  “Yeah,” Ike replied. “Say, you graduate next month, don’t you? What are you planning on doing after graduation?”

  “Just keep working dumb jobs like the bar, I guess.”

  “You’re staying there in town? You like living with your folks?”

  “Hell, no, I don’t like staying here. I’m sick of snow and ice.”

  “You’re not going to college?”

  Tim laughed. “I sure can’t afford college.”

  “There’s always loans and scholarships.”

  “Ha. Not for me. My grades suck, so I won’t get a scholarship or student loan. I’d just flunk out and then be stuck paying it back on minimum wage, you know?” Tim said with a groan.

  “Hm. Well, if you’re just gonna get a job, why not move down here to Texas where it’s warm?”

  “Yeah, right, like I have the money saved up to travel down there and pay for rent and food until I find a job.” Tim’s dour voice showed how dejected that thought made him feel.

  “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Ike said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, you do me a favor and I do you one.”

  “What kind of favor?” Tim’s voice was cautious.

  “Naw, it won’t work. You wouldn’t do it.”

  “Sure, I would, Uncle Ike. You know I’d do anything for you.”

  “Well, I’ve got a pull-out couch, you know. And I always keep plenty of food and beer around. You could come down here and stay with me for a while until you get a job and can rent a place of your own.”

  “Really? In Dallas? I’d sure like to do that! What’s the favor?”

  “Well, one night after the wedding, when you’re locking up the bar, you could forget to activate the alarm,” Ike said. “I’ll hide inside and help myself to a bit of money. Maybe a bit of booze, too.”

  “Yeah? What if they think I did it?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll activate the alarm when I leave. They wouldn’t suspect you or anything. You could make sure you go somewhere right after you leave and be with somebody who can give you an alibi, you know?”

  “Hm. That might work. I’ll think about it, Uncle Ike.”

  “I’ll see you at the wedding and you let me know if we have a deal, okay?”

  “Sure thing. I’d sure like to try living in Dallas.”

  ~ Cassie ~

  Cassie had just finished a “rekeying” job for the hardware store and was climbing into her white Pontiac van when her cellphone rang. Her stomach growled, reminding her it was time for lunch. But, of course, business came first because she ran a small locksmith business out of her house and was always short of money.

  She sighed and pulled out her phone, glancing at the caller ID. She recognized the name, Jack Thomas. He’d bought the Lilliput Bar when it had gone up for sale, after the former owner was murdered. She’d been unlocking a vehicle for a customer behind the building soon after the murder and ended up being a suspect just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She liked Jack, but the bar carried bad memories for her.

  Still, Landers was only ten miles from Canton, where she lived, so it was part of her business territory. She needed the money, so she answered the call.

  “Hello, Cassie Jennings, Locksmith.”

  “Hi, Cassie, it’s Jack Thomas at the Lilliput. Can you stop by and change the door locks and also the combination on my safe today?”

  “Sure, Jack. I can be there in about fifteen minutes. Say, I haven’t had lunch, yet. Can you make up a California burger and fries for me?”

  “It’ll be ready when you get here. Thanks, Cassie.”

  ~ Chance ~

  Detective Chance Martin sat in the Lilliput, filling out his report on the latest suspected robbery in between bites of a delicious hamburger sandwich. He licked some catsup off his fingers and downed some cola.

  The lunch rush was apparently over, so at the moment, no one interrupted his interrogation of the Lilliput’s former grill cook/bartender/bouncer and now owner, Jack Thomas. Chance’s life was a bit tamer these days and he hoped it stayed that way. He’d burned out as a homicide detective in Minneapolis and taken this job with the County Sheriff’s department a couple of years ago, hoping for a little peace and quiet. Mostly, he’d gotten it, except for a few murders that he hoped never happened in this county again.

  “So, you locked up as usual last night?” he asked Jack.

  “Yes. I was in a hurry to leave, so I just ran a tape of the till’s total sales and then stuffed it all in my safe.”

  Chance swallowed a mouthful of fries and frowned. “Why not drop it into the bank’s night deposit box? Wouldn’t that be safer?”

  Jack shrugged and sent him a glance. “I never do that until I’ve counted it and made out a deposit slip. Otherwise, how would I know what’s there?”

  “Don’t you trust the bank?”

  “Sure, but…well, their employees all have a key to my locked deposit bag, and since I usually have it all ready for them, they’d open it, expecting to deposit it, you know? Besides, I open in the morning before they do, so I wouldn’t have change to start with, see?”

  “Not really.”

  Jack frowned. “Well, my safe is supposed to be safe, you know? Isn’t that why it’s called a safe? So, anyway, I always just put it in there when I have to leave early. Or, if I don’t close up myself, the bartender or whoever closes up does it for me.”

  “But you put it in the safe yourself last night?”

  “Yes. Since I started being short money, I’ve tried to be the person who closes as often as I can.” He slapped a hamburger on the grill and laid two bun halves on the back of the grill to toast.

  Chance watched him. “Who is the hamburger for? I don’t see any customers.”

  “Cassie’ll be here in a jiffy. After I called you, I asked her to come change the door locks and the combination to my safe.”

  “Oh. Good idea.” Chance grinned. His pulse sped up at the idea of seeing Cassie again. He’d meant to call her to arrange getting together tonight. Now he could ask her in person. “Back to the missing money. You said only part of the money is missing? If someone robbed you, wouldn’t they take all of it?”

  Jack scowled and flipped the burger over. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Makes no sense to me, either. But I’m sure my till’s tape doesn’t lie. Money is missing.”

  “How much money?”

  Jack shrugged. “The count is never exactly what the till’s tape says. But a hundred dollars each time is close.”

  “Has this happened before?”

  “Yeah, a couple of times over the past couple of weeks.”

  “And you didn’t report it?”

  Jack sent him a sidewise glance. “Well, I thought maybe I’d goofed up and miscounted the amount I’d started with or something. Or one of the servers goofed up and rang up too much in sales or gave somebody way too much change or something.”

  Chance eyed him. “Does that happen often?”

  “No. So, since then, I’ve been extra careful to double count and write down everything. I know money is missing.”

  “But the door locks weren’t tampered with and the alarm was on as usual?”

  “Yeah. That’s what has me stumped. If someone had broken in, wouldn’t you think there’d be some sign that that’s what had happened? I have a good alarm system and it didn’t go off. How could they get in without leaving a trace?”

  Chance sighed and eyed Jack. “My thoughts exactly. Sounds like an inside job to me.”

  “No way!” Jack insisted. “I trust all my employees. If I didn’t, they’d be out the
door, pronto.”

  “But how could they take money out of the safe without damaging it unless they had the combination?”

  Jack’s shoulders rose and fell in frustration. “Maybe they know how to pick locks or something.”

  Chance ate another French fry, thinking. “Have you changed the alarm code lately?”

  Jack shook his head. “I have to get the security company to send someone out to change it. That costs a bundle ’cause they charge mileage for their travel, you know. I don’t have the extra cash right now.”

  Chance glanced around, looking for other security features. Seeing none other than a mirror up in a corner, he said, “You might think about adding some cameras in here.”

  “Good idea,” Cassie said, appearing behind him. She set her bag of tools on the floor and hopped onto the stool next to him, sending Chance a sexy smile.

  “Ah, just in time, Cassie. Your burger is done.” Jack flipped it off the grill and onto the toasted buns, then added lettuce, tomato, a pickle and chips, and set the plateful in front of her. “Here you go.”

  Chance smiled and gazed into her eyes. “You’re looking good,” he said, wishing he dared kiss her in public. He settled for patting her thigh and edging a bit closer to her.

  Jack turned back to Chance. “I suppose I could spring for a real camera or two,” Jack said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “There were a couple of fake ones up in the corners when I bought this place, but they weren’t very helpful. Somebody told a few people they weren’t real and word got around. You know how small towns are.”

  “That’s for sure,” Cassie said. “You don’t want to say a bad word about anybody around here, cause that will get back to the person within hours. Everybody’s somebody’s cousin or in-law or something, it seems.”

  “Have you told anyone that money is missing, Jack?” Chance asked.