Tart of Darkness

by Denise Swanson

  Spencer rubbed the space between his eyes where a headache was forming. Working with Dani to discover who murdered Regina would give them a chance to get to know each other and develop a friendship. Which was the only relationship he really could handle right now.

  All he had to do was keep Dani safe from a shady cop and out of the path of a killer while they figured out who murdered Regina Bourne. Oh, and keep his own hands off the tempting chef and her luscious cupcakes.

  Spencer ground his teeth, stomped out of his office, and went into the break room. Maybe a shot of java would cure what was ailing him. The look on his face must have deterred his employees from asking any questions, because the two men didn’t attempt any conversation. Instead, they hastily finished their coffee, rose to their feet, grabbed their equipment, and headed out the door muttering about making their rounds.

  As Spencer started to fill his cup, he stopped midpour. Breakfast. That was what he needed. A good old-fashioned breakfast with his friend Hiram. If anyone could advise him on the best way to handle the situation with Mikeloff, it was Hiram Heller.

  Hiram had been Spencer’s mentor since the academy. He wondered what his adviser would have to say about both the detective’s behavior and Spencer’s sudden urge to stick his nose into police business after years of steering clear of the local law enforcement officers. The old man usually had an opinion and wasn’t shy about sharing it.

  A quick text and twenty-five minutes later, Spencer arrived at the Downs Diner. The familiar double doors with their cloudy glass and fading red paint welcomed him. And the notices taped to the window informed him of an upcoming community garage sale as well as a lost bicycle.

  As Spencer inhaled the wonderful scents of pancakes and bacon and coffee, he greeted Uriah, the café’s owner. Then, marching to the back booth, Spencer slid into the bench across from his mentor. Before he was fully seated, Uriah approached the table and thumped a dish containing half a dozen slices of bacon, three eggs, and a generous portion of hash browns in front of Hiram. Wordlessly, the café owner cocked a brow at Spencer, who ignored the laminated menu and instead nodded that he would have the same. Uriah grunted and headed back to the kitchen.

  The owner of the diner was a big, barrel-chested man in his sixties wearing his usual uniform of white cotton pants, T-shirt, and apron. Spencer wasn’t sure of his ethnicity, but no matter the season, his complexion was always bronzed and his eyes were an unusual shade of light green. He never had much to say and he handled the cooking and serving without any hired help. His only employee was a cleaning lady he spoke to in something other than English.

  Hiram glanced up from his newspaper, skewered Spencer with a sharp stare, and asked, “What’s got your boxers in such a twist?”

  His mentor had the rough voice of a heavy smoker, but Spencer knew Hiram had never lit up a cigarette. He was a compact man, barely able to claim five foot eight and 140 pounds. But his small stature hadn’t kept him from being one of the best agents his unit had ever produced.

  Grinning, Spencer said, “Hello to you too.”

  “Recruit,” Hiram growled.

  The old man didn’t tolerate a lot of small talk. Not out of disinterest, but from years of getting to the point. Hiram had guided Spencer’s career since he was twenty-two and had never given him a bad piece of advice—including the suggestion a year ago to get out from undercover and have a life.

  Hiram was the one who had taught Spencer how to navigate the politics of the law enforcement profession and how to be a good officer. He was also the one with whom Spencer had shared his hopes, dreams, and troubles. And the one who, knowing Spencer would never be happy completely out of the protect-and-serve business, had recommended that he apply for the head of security job at Normalton University.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Spencer said to Hiram, then thanked Uriah who had returned with his plate of food.

  “Uh-huh.” Hiram set aside his newspaper, took off his glasses, and said, “Just a sudden urge to drive ten miles for breakfast?”

  “Why not? I was up early and we haven’t talked in a while.” Spencer rose and walked to the coffee machine on the counter. “Want a refill?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Hiram rubbed his hands together. “Uriah keeps this place too dang cold. It’s icier than a whore’s heart in here.”

  “You might be wishing for the AC this afternoon.” Spencer grabbed the carafe, poured a cup for himself, and topped off Hiram’s white crockery mug. “It’s supposed to be a sizzler today.”

  “Thanks.” Hiram leaned back and took a long sip. “So what’s this really about?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Something is on your mind and you might as well spill it.”

  “It’s kind of complicated.” Spencer stared over Hiram’s shoulder. “Did I tell you that my niece got into trouble and her parents made her move out of that apartment she was sharing with her friends?”

  “You mentioned it.” Hiram folded his glasses and put them in his shirt pocket. “She’s living in some mansion with the woman who had been her neighbor. Something like a boardinghouse situation, right?”

  “Yeah. Ivy’s landlady has got herself a whopper of a serious problem.” Spencer removed the napkin from around his silverware and put it in his lap. “And it could turn into something worse.”

  “That’s a damn shame.” Hiram’s expression was mournful. “You said she’d been real good to Ivy and the other girls.” He quirked his mouth. “Still. I don’t see that as any of your concern.”

  “The thing is”—Spencer focused on spreading jelly on his toast—“it’s entirely possible her troubles could also become Ivy’s.”

  “Is that a fact?” Hiram tilted his head and examined his protégé. “So you’re only worried about your niece’s possible involvement?”

  “Not entirely,” Spencer admitted. “I don’t want Dani hurt either.”

  “Dani, huh?” Hiram’s lips quirked. “She isn’t the frumpy neighbor lady you thought she was after all. Just how good looking is she?”

  “She’s real pretty.” Spencer squirmed on the uncomfortable wooden bench, uneasy with his thoughts. “But she’s got this freshness. And although she’s not a pushover, life hasn’t made her hard.”

  “Interesting.” Hiram took a sip of his coffee. “What’s her problem?”

  “In addition to renting out rooms to my niece and her friends, Dani has this business called Chef-to-Go.” Spencer ate a strip of bacon, then continued, “One of her clients was murdered the night after an event that Dani and the girls catered. And the party didn’t end on a good note for Dani or Ivy.”

  “I see.” Hiram took a small red notebook from his shirt pocket. “So Dani’s a suspect and Ivy could turn into one.” He jotted down a note. “Do they have an alibi for the time of death?”

  “Unfortunately, the TOD isn’t as important as when the insulin was injected, and evidently, that isn’t as easy to pin down.” Spencer knew where Hiram was going and outlined the circumstances of Regina’s murder.

  “Ah.” Hiram pinched his bottom lip between his index finger and thumb and pulled it out. “You need to get a copy of the coroner’s report to find out when and where this girl was injected.”

  “Any possibility you know someone who can get me a peek at it?” Spencer slid his cup in circles on the cracked plastic top of the table.

  “I have someone who works in the coroner’s office,” Hiram said. “He’ll want something for his trouble. A hundred bucks should do it.”

  “That’s fine.” Spencer dug out his wallet and handed over two fifties. At the rate he was paying for information, he’d better make an ATM stop on his way back to his office.

  “Is the detective handling the case someone reasonable who you can work with?”

  “Just the opposite.” Spencer ate a bite of crispy hash browns. “In fact, the asshat’s the b
igger of the two problems.” He explained to Hiram what he’d discovered about Mikeloff’s penchant for using his position for revenge, then added, “And this jerkwad apparently has some sort of hard-on where Dani is concerned.”

  “Why is that?” Hiram leaned back in his seat and extended his arms across the back. “Does she know him? Have they had a run-in before?”

  “She says that she hasn’t and I believe her.” Between bites, Spencer filled his mentor in on his conversation with Dani regarding the detective. “However, while I’m fairly sure she’s telling me the truth about Mikeloff, she is holding something back. And I think it has to do with her previous job in HR at the insurance company.”

  “You want me to look into that?” Hiram asked. “I could call in a favor.”

  “No.” Spencer dipped his toast into the yolk of a perfect sunny-side-up egg. Uriah was a genius with a spatula and frying pan. “At least not yet.”

  “You want to give her time to tell you herself.” Hiram nodded approvingly. “That’s smart. My policy has always been never to make a woman mad. She can remember shit that hasn’t even happened yet. And that’s no way to start a relationship.”

  “Relationship! What?” Spencer choked on the bite he’d just taken. “No! We aren’t… I’m not ready yet.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, son.” Hiram chuckled and drank some coffee.

  Clearing his throat, Spencer said, “Getting back to problem number three.”

  “Which is?” Hiram clicked on his pen and tapped it against his notebook.

  “With Mikeloff’s reputation for framing people he doesn’t like and no way that I can see to get him off the case”—Spencer clenched his jaw—“I…” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “I suggested to Dani that we look into the murder ourselves.”

  “You advised a civilian to interfere with a police investigation,” Hiram sputtered before understanding dawned in his bright-brown eyes. “You’ve got the hots for Dani and you want to spend time with her without actually committing to a date.”

  “No!” Spencer snapped. “That is yes, I’d like to get to know her as a friend, but mostly I’m concerned what Mikeloff might do.”

  “Okay.” Hiram drew out the word and raised a brow indicating he thought Spencer was full of bull. “What’s your plan of attack?”

  “Since Regina was an NU student, I have an appointment with the police chief to discuss the case. She’s been out of town and couldn’t squeeze me in until tomorrow.” Spencer finished his breakfast and pushed aside the empty plate. “I plan to feel her out about Mikeloff and see if she knows that Mikeloff is a bad cop.”

  “The chief’s not going to remove him from the case without some ironclad reason.” Hiram’s thick, white eyebrows met over his nose. “Best scenario, she agrees to keep you in the loop regarding their progress. No way in hell is she showing you the file.”

  “That’s my guess too.” Spencer nodded. “Which means Dani and I will need to interview witnesses and interrogate suspects on our own.”

  “You didn’t fool me back when you were a rookie, and you don’t fool me now,” Hiram snorted. “Hell, just come clean. You like this woman and you want to protect her and spend time with her.”

  “Maybe I do.” Spencer’s tone was stiff. “But all I can handle right now is friendship.” He raised both brows. “And after meeting her ex last night, that’s probably all she can handle too.”

  Chapter 13

  Early Wednesday afternoon, Dani handed a red-and-white paper sack to Abby Goodman and watched as the girl tapped her credit card against the machine. Because she liked to make sure she had dibs if she wanted any substitutions, Abby was usually among the first to arrive, but today she was the last. Even Smokey had beaten her to the counter.

  Dani noticed the girl’s exhausted appearance and wondered if she had taken on too heavy a class load. Although they were technically sold out, Dani felt sorry for Abby and scraped together a healthy lunch-to-go bag for her.

  After the girl hurried away, Dani turned and looked at the disaster that had once been her kitchen. Tippi, her assigned helper, had left an IOU saying she had to study for a test and would make up the hours she owed Dani.

  Of the three girls, the tiny brunette was the least reliable. She tended to show up late for work and leave early, always promising to make up the time but never following through. Her behavior wasn’t something that Dani, or the other girls, would tolerate for long, but since they were all still settling into this new situation, Dani would wait a few more weeks before confronting her.

  Previously, Tippi’s actions hadn’t been a real problem, but today, Dani had been late getting out of bed herself.

  She’d been awake until well after 2:00 a.m., staring into the darkness and obsessing over her situation. An ex that was driving her crazy, Regina’s murder possibly ruining her Chef-to-Go business, and a twisted detective trying to convict her of killing the young woman.

  As Kelsey had pointed out, and Dani had tried to ignore, the cop’s motives were almost certainly related to her participation in Homestead Insurance’s biggest cover-up. As much as she wanted to pretend Mikeloff’s vendetta against her could be connected to any number of personnel matters at her old job, logically, she knew it was probably the nastiest one.

  Which meant Dani would have to pay a visit to her previous employer and try to figure out which of the people involved were connected to the vindictive cop. Although she heard that the entire HR department had gone through a huge shake-up when a chainsaw consultant had been brought in and reduced the employee head count by half, Dani could only hope that there was someone left who would be willing to give her access to the pertinent files.

  As she cleaned up the kitchen, she mentally ran through the list of her colleagues. Although she hadn’t burned any bridges when she quit, she also hadn’t kept in touch.

  Shuddering, Dani realized that Perry Sumac was the only person in her old company who might be willing to help her. He had invited her out several times, and it was clear that he had a crush on her. But even if she hadn’t had a rule against socializing with colleagues, Perry creeped her out. Asking him for a favor would be tough, getting it without agreeing to a date with him even tougher.

  Dani’s mind veered away from the unappealing thought of her old coworker to the very appealing memory of Spencer Drake. Last night, it had been so nice sitting on the porch with him. Once Kipp had dropped off the money and left, she and Spencer had continued to enjoy the pleasant evening.

  She had been shocked when Spencer agreed to help her investigate Regina’s murder. And as much as she could tell he wanted to take back his words, he hadn’t whined or tried to blame her.

  In fact, he had been funny and charming, telling her amusing stories about recent incidents campus security had to handle. He’d seemed genuinely interested in her Chef-to-Go business and hadn’t shown any indication that he thought she was wasting her education or that should be working in HR. Maybe that was because they were both starting over and reinventing themselves.

  Smiling at the thought of the two of them getting a fresh start, Dani inspected the kitchen. Everything was back in place, the dishwasher was humming quietly, and all the surfaces sparkled. Now she could turn her attention to figuring out Mikeloff’s link to Homestead, which would require a shower and some makeup.

  Ninety minutes later, with her hair curled and wearing a pretty summer dress, Dani walked into the Homestead Insurance building. The modern glass-and-brick high-rise had been her home away from home for seven years, and she was surprised to realize that she hadn’t missed it or the work or, to be honest, any of the people.

  The receptionist was on the phone and waved Dani through. She took the elevator to the fifth floor and walked down the long hall until she came to the frosted-glass door with the inscription Human Resources.

  The metal knob felt icy in h
er palm, but she pasted a pleasant expression on her face and entered the department. Taking a deep breath, she nearly choked at the artificial smell of room freshener. Lilies had never been her favorite scent and the imitation was worse than the original.

  A few seconds later, Dani cringed when she heard, “Danielle, what a surprise to see you here. Are coming back to work for us?”

  “Sorry, no.” Dani faced Evie Hanger, the woman who had taken over after the boss’s heart attack. “Since I was in the area, I just thought I’d drop by and say hello.”

  “How sweet.” Evie’s expression didn’t match her words. “Well, there have been some personnel modifications and there may not be a lot of people you know anymore. Still, a quick hello to any of your friends who are remaining is fine, but this is a place of business.”

  “Of course.” Dani held on to her smile. “Is Perry still working here?”

  “Yes.” Evie turned and marched away. “He’s now in the last cube on the right.”

  Perry Sumac resembled a mushroom, a brown blob on a stem of two skinny legs. When Dani entered his cubicle, he was frowning at his keyboard, hunched over a desktop overflowing with empty food wrappers and overturned paper cups. However, when he looked up and recognized Dani, his annoyed expression morphed into a huge smile.

  He jumped to his feet and lumbered toward her. “Dani!” Perry’s voice reminded her of oozing sap. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Thanks, Perry.” Dani’s skin crawled as she endured his hug. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.” He held on to her a few beats too long, but when she squirmed, he let go and guided her to the chair next to his desk.

  “I hear that there’ve been a lot of staff changes since I left.” Dani searched her mind for small talk, putting off the inevitable when she’d have to ask for help.

  “Yeah.” Perry ran a hand through his greasy hair. “They had a blame-storming session and fired everyone they considered responsible for the disappointing profits.”