Once Upon a Summer

by Brooke Moss

  He stepped into her room, and she took an unconscious step back. The frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to say something then abruptly snapped it shut. Nodding to her, he picked up the silver box and examined it.

  He has nice hands. He must get manicures. The thought sliced through Harmony as she watched him with the automaton. She couldn't take her eyes off his fingers as they reverently touched the item.

  "What goes in here?"

  Harmony shook herself at his question. The sweet, teasing tone he had used in the car had vanished. Taking a step closer, she tucked her fingers into her back pockets and craned her neck to see what he pointed at.

  "Oh, that's the key drawer. It's on the table along with the winding key. I took it out to get to the screws. Please be careful, I had already removed a couple of them from the box, and they are in the drawer.

  He inclined his head in agreement. "You said it's broken?"

  She nodded as her eyes zeroed in on the box. "Normally, you would wind the key in the egress on the bottom. It coils a spring inside that runs the works like an old-fashioned watch. There's a slide on the side which turns the box on and off. The spring is wound, and the slide is on, but nothing happens except for a click like it's trying to start but can't. If you gently shake the box, there's a slight rattle. I think something came loose. Maybe a pin or a screw? I'll know more when I get inside."

  He hummed in agreement. "I understand your expertise is in mechanics, but I was wondering if you knew an estimate on this piece's value. It looks like silver."

  Harmony let out a long breath as she studied the item. "Uncle Mickey is the expert on appraisals. He's dealt with antiques since he was a kid. Ms. Billups said she got it in an auction. If it were a reputable house, they would have a full workup on the value."

  "I'm assuming we're not talking millions here?"

  She laughed. "Oh, no. If it were an original from the eighteenth century it would be worth a lot more, but not this one. Mickey said it was German manufactured in the twenties. Please don't take my thoughts as law, but my uneducated guess is a couple of thousand as is? Maybe more if it worked right."

  Detective Masterson frowned and placed the box back on the tabletop. "So, most likely not connected to her murder," he muttered. "At least, not for monetary reasons."

  Harmony's eyes widened and she felt the color drain from her face. "Murder? Ms. Billups is dead?" She backed up and sat heavily on her bed. "I think I'm going to be sick. Or pass out. Or both."

  The detective grabbed her garbage can beside her desk and placed it between her feet. Returning to the kitchen next door, he found a dishcloth, wet it and returned to her room. Gently, he pushed her head down to her knees and placed the cool cloth around her neck. "Deep breaths," he told her in his rumble which punched though her panic her as he slid his fingers through her hair.

  Perhaps it was the knowledge she knew someone who had been murdered. Maybe it was the weight of his hand on the nape of her neck and the way liquid heat pooled in her core from his gentle touch. It could even be the knowledge she could never, ever garner the awareness of a man who interested her in the way Sgt. Hunter Masterson did. No matter the reason, Harmony groaned, braced her arms on her legs and lost her breakfast.

  CHAPTER 5

  Tuesday afternoon, at his desk following a light lunch, Hunter sifted through the findings from the Billups' case. The lawyer finally returned his calls and stated Grace's visit was to add specific items to her will. He faxed over a copy of the document. So far, nothing had panned out or looked suspicious.

  Her purse was found on the side of the road leading to her house with her credit cards in her wallet but no cash. Three one-dollar coins along with a handful of quarters were still in the zipped side pocket. Who robs a person, kills them and leaves money and credit cards behind? Her car hadn't been taken, even though the keys were by the door. The State technicians found a little leather bound box in her top dresser drawer containing a small fortune in jewelry. He shook his head at the strangeness of the case. Things didn't add up. This was hands down, the weirdest home invasion he’d ever heard of.

  He glanced over the photos, zeroing in on the collection room. The gears laying on the floor reminded him of Harmony Tailor and the last time he had seen her. It had been two days, and he found himself missing her. Somehow, the petite girl with the too big eyes had worked her way under his skin leaving him in unfamiliar territory. Even now, he regretted leaving her on Sunday and had almost called her a dozen times to ensure himself she was all right. The last time he had seen her, she was still pale and a little scared. He told himself his concern was strictly plutonic. He would be worried about anyone who had a visceral reaction to this situation.

  He snorted. Yeah, go ahead and lie to yourself some more, Masterson. You're getting good at it.

  When he left, Hunter had just received word the state forensics lab had arrived at Grace's house. He wanted to stay with her until her uncle and aunt returned home but duty called. Getting her assurance she was all right and that she would lie down for a while, he reluctantly left. He was so distracted by her distress, he was halfway across town before he realized he had left the box on her table. Telling himself it had nothing to do with Grace's murder and therefore wasn't dangerous to Harmony and her family, he made the choice to leave it in their care knowing he could retrieve it later if needed. The decision had nothing to do with how excited she was to have the box in her possession. It was business.

  Yes, he was intrigued. It was crazy, and he knew it. Harmony was brilliant, talented and not to mention gorgeous. His attraction was a little unusual as his tastes didn't usually include the intellectual sect. He didn't have a problem with women who were smarter than him. However, Harmony's brilliance put him into unfamiliar waters. She was so far out of his league; it wasn't even funny. Calling in a favor from a friend, he obtained a report on her from California. Part of him was ashamed at poking into her private life, but he validated his decision by insisting he was just thorough. What he found astounded him. Harmony wasn't just smart; she was a genius; as in, a certified, MENSA card-carrying genius with an IQ of one hundred-seventy and a perfect ACT score of thirty-six. He also learned she had a clean record, lived alone in a sublet apartment at school, and had no known boyfriends or close acquaintances. She kept to herself, led a quiet life, and her financial habits showed no extravagance. She was exactly as she seemed to be and that made him happy - especially the no boyfriends part.

  Tearing his thoughts from her, he picked up the folder sitting on his desk and read through the autopsy report that came in this morning. As suspected, Grace's cause of death was blunt force trauma and Judd's guess was right on target with a time of death of nine pm. As best as the Medical Examiner in Jackson could tell, the weapon was a baton or small bat. He did note bone density was lacking, making her skull brittle and more susceptible to damage. Hunter considered what it meant. Perhaps the perp didn't intend to kill her. He frowned. It didn't matter if it were intentional or not. Dead was dead, and he would catch the murderer.

  "Hey, Hunt. You have a visitor."

  Hunter dropped the file back to his desk and looked up as a deputy waved to someone in the hallway. "Right in here." He motioned toward the door. Hunter stood as Harmony entered carrying a cloth wrapped bundle in her hands.

  "Hi, uh... Sergeant Masterson."

  He smiled at her shyness. Today she wore a drop shoulder shirt in pale purple, and a pair of light-washed jeans. Her toes peeked out of a pair of sandals. The nails were the same shade of lavender as the headband in her hair. Her eyes seemed a bit darker, and her lips were shiny as if she had applied makeup. Considering how she had been dressed the last time, he could tell she had put forth some effort to look nice for her visit. The thought she wanted to impress him made his chest puff with pride.

  "Hello, Harmony. Please, call me Hunter. Have a seat."

  She eased into the chair in front of his desk and rested the bundle on her lap. "Thank you for s
eeing me."

  Hunter almost chuckled. If only she knew how much he had wanted to see her. After two days of running through his mind, to have her in his presence was a refreshing breath of fresh air. "Thank you for coming by. How can I help you?"

  She scooted forward in the chair and placed the bundle on the edge of his desk. As she pulled the pieces of fabric away, the scent of machine oil wafted out and mixed with the subtle cloud of sweet vanilla that was Harmony. Together, they made a memorable scent which made his heart pound and blood flow to a certain part of his anatomy. It was sweet, innocent, and intelligent all rolled together.

  "I found something," she said breathlessly. Carefully, she unwrapped the bundle to reveal the silver bird box that belonged to his murder victim. "When I got into the chamber yesterday, I found an object wrapped in paper. From the residue on it and the inside wall, it was once attached to the side but came loose. A folded corner of the paper became wedged in the works, which stopped it from running. I pulled it out, checked the works, serviced the parts and lubricated the pieces. It works beautifully now."

  She slid a lever on the side. The silver cap opened and a tiny bird made of feathers in many shades of blues, greens, and yellows popped up. The wings flittered as it turned back and forth. The tiny beak opened and closed in time with a beautiful bird song that filled his office. She watched it, enraptured with her lips parted slightly for several seconds until the bird returned to lie flat inside its hiding place and the top closed over. "Isn't it amazing?" she asked in a whisper.

  Yeah, you are amazing. Hunter's eyes had only taken in a split second of the device, choosing instead to watch her reaction. He loved seeing her eyes dancing with joy. She licked her lips once, and he felt another stirring down below. He cleared his throat when her gaze turned to him.

  "You said you found an object inside?"

  She nodded and pulled out the little drawer underneath. Inside Hunter saw the mechanism's winding key and a smaller, flat piece of metal. She picked it up and handed it to him.

  He frowned as he examined it. It was about two inches long with a round head, narrow barrel and stair-stepped end. It looked like the head had been filed down to hide a design on it. Hunter could almost make out the shape, but it eluded him. "It's a key."

  "Mickey said it's nickel and his best guess from the 1930's or 40's."

  "What does it go to?"

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug but never let her eyes leave the key. "We don't know. It doesn't fit the box anywhere, so it has to open something else."

  Hunter turned the key over in his hands, studying it carefully. Why would anyone hide a key in a music box?

  "Oh, and you asked about the value of the automaton. Mickey did a little research and appraised it at between four and five thousand dollars now that the works operate smoothly. What's going to happen to it now? I mean, since the owner is dead."

  Hunter tossed the key onto the stack of paperwork littering his desktop and leaned back. "I expect it will stay in your uncle's possession until Ms. Billups' probate is worked out. He'll have to claim the repair costs through them. I can get you the name of her sister who is taking care of Grace's estate."

  "Oh. Then I guess I won't be seeing you again."

  She sounded forlorn as if the thought of not being around him was uncomfortable. He frowned as he realized he didn't like the thought either.

  Harmony stood and leaned over to pick up the key. Hunter placed his hand on top of hers and waited for her to look at him. When those big, gray eyes lifted to him, he smiled. "Have dinner with me."

  Her eyes widened, and the hand under his began to tremble. "W-w-what?"

  Standing, he lifted her hand from his desk and ran his thumb over the knuckles. Her hands were petite, like the rest of her, with long slender fingers made for manipulating things. A dirty thought entered his mind and what he would love to see her fingers wrapped around.

  "Dinner. The meal that comes at night; sometimes, it's called supper. Have it with me, tonight, please?'

  She swallowed and slowly nodded. "Okay."

  Yes!

  Hunter wanted to yell, and fist-pump the air when she agreed. Instead, he gave her a slight squeeze. "Is six all right for you?"

  "Can we change it to seven? Aunt Jolly is a little under the weather. When it gets stuffy hot like it's been the last couple of weeks, her asthma acts up something awful. Uncle Mickey won't be home until then. I rather not leave her alone."

  "Seven, it is," he agreed and reluctantly let her hand go.

  She stared at it for a second then quickly snatched up the key, returned it to the box and wrapped the entire thing back up. Turning to the door, she stopped, looked over her shoulder and gave him a brilliant smile. "I'll see you at seven," she said then disappeared.

  "Wow," Hunter breathed as he sat down. Her smile was dazzling. It lit up her face and made her eyes sparkle. It was the first real smile he’d seen since meeting her, and it slammed him in the chest like a cannonball. He ached to put as many of those amazing smiles on her face as he possibly could. The feeling was odd and unnatural to his normally lax playboy stance, but it also felt right. At that moment, he realized something profound had changed deep inside; both he and his nonchalant dating attitude were in trouble.

  In short, they were royally screwed.

  CHAPTER 6

  The last time Harmony ate at Weidmann's was when her friend from school, Heather had gotten engaged. Even though it was almost five years ago, everything looked exactly how she remembered. As the hostess showed them to a table in the dining room, she was keenly aware of Hunter's fingers gently grasping her elbow as he guided her through the tables. Her hurried glance barely registered the walls covered in pictures showcasing the local area over the past almost one-hundred-fifty years. There was a lot of history depicted on the walls and the last time she’d been there; she had enjoyed studying them. Tonight, she was too keyed up by the prospect of being on a date with Hunter to think of anything else.

  Hunter pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit. She gathered the flirty white skirt of her dress against her thighs and settled in as he pushed her seat forward, before taking his place at the intimate table with her. Nerves slammed into her as she wondered for the hundredth time what possessed her to accept his offer. Harmony didn't date often, yet here she was, in one of the most elegant restaurants of the city wearing a dress she had bought specifically for tonight and sitting next to the most striking man she had ever seen. Quickly, she pinched her thigh just to ensure she was awake and it wasn't one of the many dreams that haunted her sleep since meeting him a few days ago. The sharp pain was her answer.

  Picking up the menu, she perused the selections. A trick so she didn't have to talk to him for a few moments and get her thumping heartbeat under some semblance of control. The lighting was low, creating a romantic atmosphere with a soft melody playing over hidden speakers and supporting the murmur of conversation. She tried to remember what she had ordered the last time she was here but the heat of his leg pressed so intimately against hers unnerved her. She swallowed and gently pulled her leg away to give her addled mind a respite. Harmony caught his frown out of the corner of her eye, but he didn't try to replace his leg.

  "Good evening. I'm Mackenzie and will be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?"

  They both ordered sweet tea and Mackenzie left. Harmony resumed studying the menu and was caught unawares by Hunter's next statement.

  "I hope you like the food. I didn't even ask you where you wanted to go. I confess I hoped to impress you a little by bringing you here."

  She laid the menu on the table as she nodded. "I've only been here a couple of times, but the food is good. We don't eat out very much other than special occasions since Aunt Jolly's diner is next door. She's a fantastic cook and still oversees everything served there." She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Besides, I'm not big on new things."

  Conversation stopped with Mackenzie's return to the
ir table with their drinks. They placed their orders - he chose a rib-eye steak while she went with shrimp and grits. Hunter also picked an appetizer of fried green tomatoes with something called 1870 sauce. When it arrived a few minutes later, she wrinkled her brow. There were bits of ripe tomato, mushrooms and shrimp in a creamy sauce on top of a layer of crispy fried green tomatoes. She hadn't seen anything like it before. He must have seen her confusion because he laughed then cut a piece off with his fork.

  "Here," he said as he lifted the bite to her lips.

  "I don't know," she replied and eyed the fork as if it contained a mass of wriggling tentacles.

  "Come on, Pix, try it. Who knows? Maybe you’ll like it."

  She hesitated and stared at him with a wrinkled brow. "Pix?"

  "Mmhm. You are all cute and petite like a pixie. I can tell you have a bit of mischievousness about you. You look like a 'Pix' to me. Now, quit stalling and try it."

  Harmony huffed but inside her nerves tingled at the intimate nickname. Not wanting to keep him waiting, she timidly stuck her tongue out and touched the tip to the sauce.

  He laughed. "Nope, you have actually to try it. Open up." He nudged the fork toward her again.

  Reluctantly she squeezed her eyes together tightly and opened her lips. Suddenly, her tongue felt the heat of the bite as he placed it in her mouth. Slowly she chewed, sure she was going not to like it.

  Oh, how wrong she was!

  The tomatoes were crispy and breaded perfectly to create a tangy compliment to the creamy richness of the sauce. Harmony opened her eyes wide in surprise as she licked her lips. "That's surprisingly good. I didn't think I would like it."

  "See, I told you." He chuckled then took a bite for himself. He continued to alternate, feeding her from his fork then one for himself. It made her feel special and cherished.