The Sweetheart Kiss

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  “That explains Bigfoot in his office.”

  Jess nodded. “That’s Alvin the Ape. He was hired to kill Taryn and ended up Irving’s bodyguard. Go figure.”

  He straightened and his body tensed. “And you didn’t tell me this before now? Can he shoot?”

  “I don’t know, but the sniper isn’t him.” She gave a brief synopsis of Alvin’s history. “Months ago, he’d be first on my suspect list. Now, he’s sort of proven himself. Besides, Irving pays him a small fortune for 24-7 security. Why would he harm any of us?”

  Tenting his hands, he put them to his face and closed his eyes. “What about your former boss, Willard? Could he have sent another killer after you? You are a witness in Taryn’s case.”

  “Possibly, but I don’t feel it. Willard is a creep and a psycho, but he knows that we have evidence against him about Alvin. If something happens to Taryn, he’s the top suspect. I think he’s out as a suspect in this case.”

  That didn’t appear to pacify the detective in the least. In fact, he seemed more annoyed.

  “Does crazy follow you Brash girls around?”

  “It does.” Why lie? “But this is our first sniper case. This ups the crazy to a whole new level.”

  Chapter Seven

  Far down in the center of his churning gut, Sam had a feeling this case was about to get seriously screwed up. Despite what the sexy PI said, there were probably people who wanted at the least to see her ass kicked, and worse were sitting on their couch, drinking a beer, and plotting how to get away with murder.

  “When you mess with relationships, bank accounts, or child custody, emotions run hot,” he said. “A soccer dad could end up a killer with the right motivation.”

  “Do you really believe a soccer dad would want me dead?”

  “Picture your last divorce case where kids were involved and ask yourself that question.”

  Her pretty face fell. “Oh, damn.”

  “Yeah. Can you get me access to your cases?” he said. The odds were good that her job was the key. From what he’d learned when researching her, there wasn’t a lot going on in her personal life. Why that pleased him made no sense. “I want anything that might have involved threats, verbal or otherwise. We’ll start there.”

  Jess rubbed her forehead. “I wish Summer was here. She’s better at computers that I am. But I’m sure I can get you what you need. We have a decent backup IT guy.”

  Once that was concluded, he took her back to Brash. She had other cases to check on. Irving had taken care of the flat tire. With all the dents and flats and worn out engines Taryn went through, Irving had bought a storage building behind Brash and changed it into an auto shop. Several mechanics took care of all the employee cars.

  “Does Brash have tire elves?” he said as he parked beside her SUV and looked out the window.

  “Yep. They wear little green hats and pointed shoes.” She pushed open her door. “I’ll get those files and text you.”

  He gave her his number and left.

  Watching him pull out of the lot, she had to work very hard not to sigh like a lust-struck school girl. First, she was never one to swoon. Second, just because he was handsome did not make him her next romance disaster. Although she wanted a relationship like her friends had, the surly detective did not live up to any of the requirements on her list. Well, except for sexy. He had that in spades.

  However, sexy alone could not carry a relationship into the happily-ever-after she wanted. The regrets would pile up before she got her bra off.

  Nope. She had to keep her naughty thoughts about him in check and her mind on watching out for a crazy nut-job sniper.

  * * *

  Jess turned off the gravel road and headed for a double-wide trailer tucked back on overgrown acreage in the eastern end of Washtenaw County. The trailer sat at an angle to the road and up on crumbling cement blocks. The white metal shell of the home listed to the left and was rusted and peeling in spots.

  A pair of old cars of indistinguishable vintage sat off to the right side, their headlights staring blankly at her as she wondered how anyone could call this disaster a home.

  The trailer was the kind of place awaiting a hard wind to knock it over. Hopefully no one would be inside when it did.

  Weeds hid what might have once been a driveway and she was grateful for all-wheel-drive as she bumped over potholes that could have eaten a Smart Car. She stopped and frowned, thinking she should have brought back-up, in case a rabid chipmunk decided to eat off her face.

  She’d been hired to find Montrose Blevens by his ex-wife in hopes of squeezing child support from the deadbeat. He’d been hiding from her for ten years, while, according to Dani, he’d drank and gambled away any money he made from odd jobs around the local paper mill.

  “Unless he’s buried a treasure chest under the trailer, she isn’t getting blood from this turnip,” Jess said as she tucked her gun into her holster and exited the SUV. There was a fair chance she’d need to shoot something. Might as well be prepared.

  The home didn’t look any better up close. In fact, she was more disturbed. Gingerly climbing the rickety wooden steps of the small and rotting porch, and grateful she hadn’t encountered an angry skunk as she’d made her way through the brush, she rounded an empty dog bowl filled with dead leaves and knocked on the metal door. “Mr. Blevens?”

  No answer. No dog barking. Good.

  “Mr. Blevens!”

  Still nothing. She turned the door handle. It was unlocked.

  The door screamed like the damned as she pushed it open and peered into the darkness. “Mr. Blevens? You’ve won a trillion dollars from Publishers Clearing House. Come get your check.”

  The stench of rotting food and unwashed everything else made her gag. She was convinced there was something dead in there, too. A hole in the floor led under the trailer and was an invite for critters to enter and expire. The trailer was so filthy that not even one of those hoarder shows could make it right. The place was only good for scrap metal. If that.

  “Mr. Blevens?” The chance that anyone lived here was remote, but she’d seen worse. Desperate people would take any shelter from the elements, even this.

  Before she could consider this lead dead, she had to look for clues to his next destination. So she carefully stepped over a pile of refuse and picked her way through the kitchen and living room. Careful not to touch anything gross, Jess wondered when she’d had her last tetanus shot.

  No mail or maps or notes led her in the direction of her missing deadbeat. She moved on.

  The stench worsened as she moved toward the back of the trailer and everything inside her told her to flee. And yet, she moved forward, determined to solve the mystery of the missing Mr. Blevens. There were four children out there who deserved more than they got from their father.

  She pulled the neckline of her shirt up over her mouth and nose and braced herself for the discovery of the carcass of a dead critter when she opened the back bedroom door.

  The smell almost knocked her flat. But that wasn’t what caused her heart to stop and fear to tear through her. Sitting on the bed with a beer can in one hand and a mummified hotdog in the other was a blurred shape of what had once been a living human being.

  She screamed.

  Chapter Eight

  When the police arrived, Jess was camped out near a patch of bushes, wiping her mouth and face with an old Wet Nap that she’d found in her glove compartment.

  By the time she’d finished her statement and the crime techs had done a preliminary look over the body, Jess’s stomach had settled to a twisty ache. It would take a lot longer for the rest of her to recover.

  She’d never discovered a dead body before. She hoped this was her last.

  By the time Wheeler found her leaning on the back bumper of her SUV contemplating performing a full frontal lobotomy on herself with her house key to erase the memories of the last two hours, she was ready for the d
ay to end with her up to her neck in water and bubbles.

  He leaned an arm on the roof of her SUV and peered down at her with something akin to compassion in his eyes. She couldn’t say she was entirely unhappy to see him.

  “I hear you found a corpse.”

  “You could say that,” she said. “It was awful.”

  He nodded. “Your first?”

  Jess nodded back. “If you say anything smartass, you’ll be my second.” The right corner of his mouth twitched. She was too tired to follow through with the threat. “What are you doing here anyway? Aren’t you out of your jurisdiction?”

  He looked back at the trailer. “My secret cop sources told me you were out here.” He returned his attention to her. “If it makes you feel any better, the techs think it was a natural death. The guy was morbidly obese and a smoker. An autopsy will confirm COD and his identity.”

  Dani wouldn’t get her child support, but knowing Blevens probably wasn’t murdered did make Jess feel a bit better.

  “No, it really doesn’t make much difference. My client has looked for him for years and now her kids get no support and their father is gone. The bastard could have lived long enough to make things right with his family.”

  The detective frowned. “Wishful thinking.”

  Jess stared at his gun. He looked extra hot packing heat. She needed therapy. “What can I say? I’m an eternal optimist.”

  “Right.” He stood and Jess joined him in the driveway. She needed fresh air and sunshine. He frowned and held up a finger. “Give me a second to check something out.”

  Wheeler typed into his phone, then looked around the property and back to his phone. Finally, after a few minutes, he turned back to her. “Don’t quote me on this, but I think a casino is going up near here, on the other side of these woods. I’ve seen it on the news. If this property is slated to be part of the land buy, and Blevens owns it, his kids might get a gift from their dad after all.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack.” He looked down at her face and immediately seemed to regret his choice of words.

  * * *

  Sam watched as light filtered into her watery eyes. “Sorry.” He’d had a quick look at the body and knew why she’d been upset. He’d seen similar cases and they never failed to give his gag reflex a twitch.

  “I have to call Dani.” She smiled despite looking queasy. “Thanks, Wheeler.”

  “You’re welcome.” He liked that she wasn’t frowning, scowling, or grimacing at him. The smile was genuine and softened her face. He liked it. Now Jess had some tentatively positive news to distract her from the Blevens discovery as she walked off to call her client.

  Even if the casino wasn’t interested in the property, the land was still worth something. Once ownership was proven, and as long as Blevens didn’t have other children or a wife, the sale proceeds would go to his abandoned family.

  His gaze drifted back to Jess. She was wearing a form-fitting button-up gray top, snug jeans, and kick-ass black boots with killer heels that could ruin the day of any asshole who tried to mess with her. She looked every inch a crime fighter. As she walked back to him a few minutes later, he couldn’t help feeling a slight buzz down below.

  “Dani thinks the property may have belonged to Blevens’s father or grandfather. Both deceased. She didn’t know there was a trailer here when she gave me his junk box. I found the property through an old tax form from nineteen seventy-seven.”

  “Does he have brothers or sisters?”

  “He had a brother who died about fifteen years ago from a stroke. He wasn’t married.” Jess rubbed her arms. “I gave her the name of a lawyer who deals with finding heirs and settling inheritances.”

  “Good.” Sam watched as the body was removed from the trailer and carted away. “Unless he was murdered by his ex-wife, case closed.”

  Jess nodded.

  This was the moment when he should head back to work. Instead, another thought occurred to him. The more he knew about Jess, the more clues he’d have to why someone wanted to kill her. Besides, she was his most pressing case.

  “Can I buy you lunch?” he asked. She made a face. “Or a Tums?”

  After thinking she’d refuse, her answer surprised him.

  “Okay.” She retrieved her keys from her pocket. “I’ll follow you.”

  The restaurant was just off I-94. It was small, retro, and built to look like a submarine. They were led to a blue-topped table with chrome chairs next to the front window. The waitress wore a uniform that looked like an old navy dress from the 40s. On her feet were sensible black shoes to round out the outfit.

  Jess checked out the small imitation radar that held napkins while Sam scanned the menu. The radar had knobs you could turn that made the screen look like the Battleship game with enemy ships. Happiness filled her face.

  “Summer would love this place,” she said. “She’s a vintage girl in a twenty-first century world.”

  Having seen Summer’s car, Sam agreed. “That convertible is something else. It fits her.”

  They went on to order burgers and fries. The conversation started slowly. Every time she looked at him with those amazing eyes, he forgot whatever question had been asked. She glanced at him curiously after his third distracted answer, and with a hint of amusement. Awareness crossed her face.

  “Elizabeth Taylor eyes,” she said and bit into a fry. At his puzzled expression, she continued, “I have Elizabeth Taylor’s lavender eyes. My parents think I was switched at birth. Either that or my mother made it with the mailman. I’m the only person in the family with this color.”

  He managed a nod. When she wasn’t pissed at him and her expression was soft with her smile, he lost the ability to put together a cohesive thought.

  She looked down at her plate and he took a breath. With Jess’s dark hair, the contrast of hair and eyes was as striking as it had been for the late actress. No wonder Elizabeth had so many husbands. What man could resist her?

  He didn’t understand this attraction for the headstrong PI. He had seen her in tiny panties, but that wasn’t it. Well, partially. No, there was something about her that drew him in, challenged him. And for some reason the alpha in his DNA wanted to keep her safe, above and beyond his law enforcement duty.

  Hell, he wanted her in his bed with her long legs wrapped around his waist, her body locked with his.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  His face tipped up. “What?”

  Damn. Caught. He quickly covered. “I wanted to know if you have any crazy ex-boyfriends.”

  The smile faded. “No boyfriends that would care enough to get revenge, although my first love, who was my first heartbreak, busted into the wedding at the moment the shot went off. But he wasn’t looking for me. So the answer is definitely, no. I’m stalker-free.”

  Oh, right. That dumbass in the blue suit. Sam had heard the story but passed over the connection to Jess. Rumor had it that the wedding crasher had been a high school romance for both the bride and one of the bridesmaids. And Jess had mentioned she and Mandy had gone to school together. An assumption filled in from that. The idea that a guy would choose Mandy with her overdone face and fake boobs over Jess was criminal.

  He didn’t need to know the PI well to know that. He had a sense about people. She was something special. “I suspect you’d shoot him, not the other way around.”

  She nodded, the smile returning. “Only if I cared enough about Darren to risk prison. Which I don’t. Clearly his taste in women took a dive after me. Mandy, again? Really?”

  Sam chuckled at the blunt statement. Her heart may have healed but there was still a line of resentment. When teen romances crashed and burned, they left scars.

  His did.

  “And there’s no one else?” he pressed.

  “I can’t say that I haven’t dated, but there’s no one person that stands out. My longest lasting male relationship has been w
ith the guy who foams my morning latte five days a week for the last four years. Although, I believe Serge is married.”

  Shit. A stalker ex would be an easy catch. The quicker he closed the case, the quicker he could get the hell away from Jess. The woman had heartbreaker written all over her.

  “You’re not helpful.” He pushed his half-empty plate away. “There has to be a road rage incident, a crazy neighbor, someone you cut off in line at the grocery store who is out to get you, Jess. No one can get through life without at least one enemy.”

  She dragged her last fry through ketchup and popped it into her mouth. “I grew up in a military family and didn’t stay anywhere long enough to tick anyone off. By the time my mom put her foot down and settled us in California, I was in high school. That’s where I met Mandy and then Darren. Mandy moved here to go to college at Michigan State University. That’s why she’s here. I now live in Michigan because of my former job with the Muskrats. It’s an unfortunate coincidence that we are in the same state again. For me.”

  After taking a drink of water, she went on, “I lost my virginity to a cute nerd named Arlo in my junior year in college. We dated for almost a year before he went back home to Germany. I’ve had three very short relationships since and a bunch of dud dates. Until I got kicked off the Lansing Mighty Muskrat team bus with Taryn and Summer, and took up with Irving, my life has been PB&J on white bread. Now I tick people off for a living, but not enough for anyone to seek revenge.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jess went to bed that night in her tiny newly-converted garage apartment feeling like the case was going nowhere. As a PI, she usually knew the who, what, and where of any case within a very short time. After all, Ann Arbor was not a hotbed of serious crimes. If there was mystery involved, like a theft, there was often only a small set of suspects to choose from. Or the criminals were too dumb to not get caught. That was why her success rate was high. With this case, she honestly had no idea who’d want her dead.