The Sweetheart Mystery

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  The mourners each grabbed a handful of dirt as the casket was lowered into the open grave and took turns tossing it in. When it was Betty Anne’s turn, she lifted the largest clump in the pile of freshly turned earth and chucked it into the hole. It hit the casket with a loud thump.

  Noah chuckled.

  “I have it on good authority,” Sharla said with a conspiratorial whisper, “that she had the coffin nailed shut to keep him from rising back up to haunt her.”

  “Is that true?” Harper asked. Although she’d had a similar thought, hers was in jest.

  “Nelson from The Devine Heaven Funeral Home said so.” Sharla shrugged. “I cut his hair on Tuesdays.” The trio turned back as the mourners dispersed like a flock of crows taking flight. They wandered toward a long line of black limos, the cheerleaders and players chatting among themselves. Betty Anne put a hand on the shoulder of each child, though little Gerry shrugged her off and scowled.

  Yep. Apple. Tree.

  The reporters tried to get to the relatives and failed. The bodyguards kept them at bay.

  According to Kimmie, Willard had planned an expensive send-off lunch at his country mansion. Harper said she’d never been to the house but told Noah the place was supposed to be nice.

  “If you didn’t make at least seven figures,” she added, “don’t wait by the mailbox for an invite.”

  “Oh, poo. We should crash the party,” Sharla said with a wicked gleam in her blue eyes. “We can hit the bar together.”

  “We should not,” Harper said. She carefully picked her way around the tree and down the path between the graves. Sharla took Noah’s arm with her gloved hand for support and they followed. Up close, she smelled like flowers.

  However, his eyes were on Harper. The flirty skirt of her dress played around her sexy thighs as she walked with an athletic grace down the hill. Even the tight bun-thing that she’d twisted all her hair in couldn’t distract him from admiring her understated attractiveness.

  She was something.

  For a woman who was mistreated by her boss, and accused by nearly everyone of murder, Harper still managed to show respect for Gerald despite it all. And she’d taken him to task for his funeral-nerves inspired jokes. Noah admired her for that.

  “Are you two an item?” Sharla said as she tottered along beside him. She clung to his arm with a tight grip.

  “We’re just old friends.” Saying anything more would lead to a long and complicated conversation. He wasn’t about to discuss their history with a stranger.

  “But you like her,” the woman pressed.

  He did like Harper. Very much. “Subject change.” They hit the paved path. Since Sharla had come to them, he might as well take advantage of the situation for questions.

  He unlocked her fingers from his arm. Harper stopped frowning. “Why don’t you tell me why an attractive woman like yourself ended up with a toad like Gerald Covington?”

  Chapter 13

  Noah, Harper, and Sharla settled on a pair of stone benches near a small fountain and watched the last of the limos drive off the property. Since Kimmie and the cheerleaders weren’t in the elite crowd, they drove their own cars. It was unlikely they’d be at the luncheon.

  The cemetery went quiet.

  As if by magic, the sun broke through the gray clouds and settled on the grassy areas not blocked by tree leaves.

  Mottled light filtered through the maple tree behind them as Sharla pulled out an electric cigarette. The two waited patiently until the woman took a long drag on water vapor and exhaled. She instantly looked at peace.

  Lifting her face to the light, she sat for a beat, as if contemplating Noah’s earlier question. A second drag followed and she dropped her attention back to her companions.

  “I’ve given up the real stuff, cancer and all that.” Sharla stared at the fountain. “You want to know why I’d hook up with an unpleasant married man like Gerald?” Her eyes turned pensive. Making a confession about taking up with a married man couldn’t be easy. But Sharla was nothing if not blunt. “Truthfully? The money.”

  Oddly, this didn’t surprise Harper. “That was the one positive Gerald had going for him.”

  Sharla smiled and nodded. “True. Also, believe it or not, he had strange sense of humor that I found charming.”

  Now this did surprise Harper. Noah watched her eyes widen. “I didn’t know that about him. The only time I saw him smile was when he was eating puppies and squashing defenseless victims like bugs. Otherwise a disapproving smirk was his only expression. I think he even had his own emoji.”

  The two women shared a knowing glance. “Yes, that was Gerald. But when we were in bed—”

  “Dear God, no!” Harper yelped and covered her ears. “Please don’t gross me out.”

  The redhead laughed and waited for Harper to drop her hands. “Okay. Let me rephrase. During, um, quiet moments, when his guard was down, he liked to tell stupid jokes and make fun of his family. I know the latter sounds bad, but he had real affection for his children.”

  * * * *

  Had the subject been anyone but her hated old boss, Harper might have enjoyed some insight into Gerald’s private life. As it was, he’d never treated her as anything higher than something he’d found stuck to his shoe, so it would take a lot more than fatherly affection and jokes to change her opinion.

  She lifted a hand. “Okay, I get that there was something pleasant about him the rest of the universe didn’t see. However, he wasn’t exactly a catch in the looks department, if you know what I mean. Even lots of cash couldn’t make him appealing.”

  Harper felt bad about bashing him, but she had to find out as much as she could about the workings of their relationship to make Sharla a suspect, or rule her out.

  “You’d be surprised. Money is a powerful aphrodisiac.” Sharla played with her veil. “Even half-dead and moth-eaten old billionaire businessman often have women as young as their granddaughters on their arms. They have to know she isn’t in the relationship for their hot geriatric physiques. It’s all about the cash, baby.”

  Noah piped in, “She has a point.”

  “Point or not, ewww.” Harper had to move past this topic before the hairdresser shot way off into the ick zone. Her breakfast was already souring. “Sharla, did you kill Gerald?”

  Sharla took two puffs. Noah seemed fascinated. It had to be a guy thing.

  “I did not.” She stood, turned the cigarette off, and tucked it into her purse.

  “Look. Am I sad that Gerald is dead? I am. Despite that his wife looks like a homeless woman, he was generous with me and my son. The jewelry alone will pay my bills for months to come. But did I have any hopes for us beyond an affair? I did not. Nor would I have married him if he were free to ask. When I marry again, it will be to a decent guy who loves me and Andy.”

  Pulling the veil back over her face, she smiled sadly. “The mourners are gone. I think I’ll go pay my last respects.”

  She walked off, leaving Harper and Noah to watch her go.

  “What an interesting woman,” he said as she vanished around a small mausoleum. “Do you think she killed Gerald?”

  Harper shook her head. “I don’t. It would be easier if she had. We’ve done three interviews and still have no suspects.”

  “Besides you.” Noah stood and pulled her to her feet. “I think you need some tension release.”

  His warm hands were rough on her skin. She really wanted to see him naked. “I’m not having sex with you. Not now, not here, not ever.”

  Slowly his face dissolved into a predatory grin, like the Cheshire Cat, only lusty. She felt like a mouse with a cat paw on its tail, trapped and about to be eaten. Noah was no cat, and she was no cowering mouse, but he left her quivery with all the sexy promises he sent her in that one unspoken challenge.

  She took a quick step back. “Do
n’t touch me.”

  “I don’t intend to.”

  Puzzled, she scanned his face. What did he intend then? His eyes held the promise of naughty without the nice.

  He stepped forward and leaned to her ear, his warm breath skimming across her skin. Her breath caught. He whispered, “When I do touch you, you’ll be begging for it.”

  Dear lord! She grasped for the only life preserver that might remind him that the attraction between them couldn’t be acted on. “What about Lori?”

  “What about her?”

  Noah pulled back just enough to look deep into her eyes. Not even the cemetery or common sense could keep the warm flush out of her girly bits. She was balancing on the edge of a cliff and it wouldn’t take much for her to grab his hand and jump. But she wouldn’t go to bed with him for the wrong reasons. And there were many.

  “I won’t allow you to cheat on her with me.” Although they say revenge is sweet, and Lori had wronged her, she just wasn’t that person. She couldn’t hurt the other woman as she’d been hurt. “I won’t be Sharla. I can’t.”

  The grin stayed. “HJ, Lori is married to my brother and she’s become one of my best friends. Other than that one mistake you walked up on, and we didn’t go all the way that night, there’s never been anything sexual between us.” He leaned until she was sure he was about to kiss her. “You’ll need another barrier to keep me out. Lori isn’t it.”

  Straightening, he walked around her and down the path. Harper struggled to pull air into her lungs.

  Everything she ever believed about the night she and Noah broke up was wrong. Yes, he had made out with Lori, maybe even gotten to second base, but they weren’t lovers.

  Despite that news, he still wasn’t trustworthy. That much she knew.

  He’d been out of control during those last weeks before he knocked her world out from under her. It was unlikely he’d change. He lived up to his wild reputation. She’d believed she was the one to tame him. They both failed.

  Still, was it possible there was still more to that story then she’d known? One minute he’d been an excellent boyfriend and the next he’d acted crazy. Crazier. And he wouldn’t tell her what was wrong. She’d been shut out. So when her friends told her he was at the make-out spot with another girl, she’d gone looking for him, burning with anger.

  Seeing them half dressed was too much. The pain had overwhelmed her as only a first love betrayed could. There was nothing she could do but lay waste to everything that reminded her of him, eject him from her life, and never look back.

  Confused and overwhelmed, she headed toward the rental car where Noah sat on the hood. Gone was the grin. Instead he looked concerned. “Do you want to talk?”

  She shook her head and handed over the keys. She couldn’t concentrate enough to drive.

  Silently, they left the cemetery.

  Noah might have grown up, he might be less of a dog than she’d thought, but when it came to opening up and trusting Noah again, there was no place for him in her heart.

  Chapter 14

  The ride back to her motel was silent except for the classic rock songs playing on the radio. When Noah had confessed the truth about that night, he didn’t realize she’d take it hard. If anything, he expected her to be relieved to discover that he wasn’t a total jerk after all. Instead, she’d fallen into an unexplained catatonic state.

  He resisted the urge to reach over and take her pulse.

  The motel was one story and appeared to have been built with a serious lack of creativity, or cash. Painted tan block, with outdated dirty windows with casings covered in a thick layer of rust-colored paint, he suspected that they rented to hookers and johns by the hour.

  A rough looking character stood in an open doorway with his hand tucked into the waistband of his pants and a bottle of liquor in the other. He stared at Harper with a calculated look that made Noah uneasy.

  In a place like this, odds were high that many of the residents had felony records. They’d eat up someone like Harper.

  Peering through the windshield, Noah said, “You can’t stay here.” He wouldn’t bend on this.

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  Finally, life had flooded back into her. Good. Yet, he wasn’t about to argue. “This place isn’t safe.”

  “It’s safe enough.” There was a stubborn tilt to her chin. “I can’t afford the Marriott. I’m unemployed, remember?” She exited the car. The eyes in the doorway guy took on a feral gleam as she walked over and unlocked her door.

  Oh, hell no. There was no way he was leaving her there.

  The room was musty and in need of a steam cleaning. The walls were cracked and the sink faucet trickled water. He couldn’t confirm but he thought he caught movement out of the corner of his eye of some critter running under the bed.

  “I have a place you can stay.”

  She sank down on the queen bed. Dejection filled her eyes as she examined the dump, but the chin jut stayed. “I’m not bunking with you.”

  Geez, she was stubborn. “Look HJ. I’ve worked a lot of cases in places just like this. It’s no place for a woman alone. The locks were made for picking and the chain won’t keep a two-year-old out.”

  He inhaled deeply and stared her down. He’d bunk in a sleeping bag outside the door if he had to. “Either you take me up on my offer or I’m moving here with you.”

  Her eyes flashed. “You’re not my father, Noah. You can’t boss me around like I’m six.”

  At least she’d snapped out of her mood. Angry he could deal with. He rubbed his face and took a reasonable tact. He could bend on a lot of things, but not when it came to her safety.

  “I’m not asking you to share my apartment. I have a rental that’s empty right now. It’s clean and safe.”

  For a second, he thought she’d refuse. Then her eyes moved around the room for a second time, taking full stock of the dismal surroundings. There was no way she could find anything positive in the space. The fight left her.

  “We won’t be living together?”

  Not exactly. “Nope.”

  The mouse ran out from under the bed, saw them, and ran back. She gasped and pulled her feet up on the bed. “Deal.”

  Little did she know that she’d made a pact with the devil.

  * * * *

  The house was a duplex in the heart of Ann Arbor and right near downtown. It was cottage style, painted brown, with ivy crawling up one side wall. Stone steps went from the sidewalk up to the house, and the entire lot was shaded with ancient and overgrown trees and bushes of varying shapes and sizes.

  “This doesn’t look like your style,” she said as he led her to the door. Impressed by the exterior, she couldn’t wait to get inside. “And this doesn’t look like a student rental.”

  She was sure that Taryn and Summer lived within walking distance of here. Jess, she wasn’t positive.

  Noah unlocked the door and pushed it open. “I bought the place several years ago as an investment property. The interior was a mess. I rent mostly to professionals who work at the university and the hospital. Some are temporary visitors from overseas.” He led her inside. “I have two professors moving in next month before school starts.”

  “I’m impressed.” She placed her suitcase on the scarred and polished old wood floor. As Noah had said, the apartment was clean, furnished with sturdy—if not expensive—furniture, and just big enough for two to live comfortably.

  “The other apartment is a mirror of this one. A visiting doctor from Amsterdam is arriving in two weeks.” He gave her a tour. “The house was sold when the owner died. She was a hoarder. It took two industrial sized dumpsters to empty the place out. The rest of the cleaning took a week.”

  “It’s hard to imagine that now. This is great.”

  Wood floors went throughout the living room and kitchen. The applianc
es were fairly new and a small island with a gray marble top separated kitchen from living room. The bedroom had a queen-sized bed with a blue and red quilt, and the master bath held a shower and a claw foot tub.

  “I love those tubs.” It was easy to imagine herself up to her neck in bubbles.

  A gray and white marble countertop matched the one in the kitchen. “I like the colors,” she said and ran her hand over the smooth cool surface. She wouldn’t have to worry about low water pressure and rusty pipes here.

  Or mice. Rats. Gunshots.

  “That’s why I don’t rent to students.”

  “I’ll take it.” She dropped her suitcase on the bed.

  He left her to settle in and she made a list of anything she’d need for her short stay. Food was first on the list.

  After dumping her dirty clothes into the stackable washer, she took the key Noah left on the counter and headed out. The Yugo was gone and she smiled. Noah was driving the wreck. He must be swearing a blue streak, like her aunt used to say.

  The man was bossy, but she was pleased to have conceded on this matter. She hadn’t slept well at the creepy motel. The apartment was much better.

  The cottage was five blocks from downtown. Energized by the vibe of the city, she stopped for a coffee and a muffin at a small coffee shop. Most of the students were gone for the summer, but there were still enough residents on campus to keep this part of the city from being a ghost town.

  After eating, she got directions to a small grocery store. An hour, and two stuffed reusable canvas bags later, she strolled back to the cottage, eager to get dinner started. She was famished and a bit lightheaded.

  The Yugo was back. “Noah?” she called and went into the kitchen. “Noah?” There was no sign of him.

  She walked through the apartment. No Noah.

  Curious, she headed for the sliding patio doors and peered out. The yard was small but cottage-like with shade plants and a short stone path that dissected the yard and led back to a brick patio. On the patio was Noah, his sleeves rolled up, tending to a smoky BBQ grill.