The Sweetheart Mystery

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  Adam grinned and put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. “You’re wrong, Brother. Her taste in men is abysmal but her eyes are perfect.”

  She laughed. “Twenty-twenty.”

  Adam had been a sweet kid and she’d loved him like a little brother. Seeing him again made her realize that she’d missed him. Even after she and Noah solved the case and split up, she hoped to keep in touch with Adam.

  Before she could take another breath, Adam steered her around and dragged her into the kitchen and to the table. “Sit and tell me what you’ve been up to for that last decade.”

  She sat. “You mean, other than murdering my boss?”

  He went to the fridge and dug out a water bottle. “I planned to start with your college and cheerleader years but I guess you can start with that.”

  For the next half hour, she told him about the case. Then finished up with, “Noah is helping me out.”

  Adam leaned back and encompassed them in a knowing look. “I’m not surprised. I don’t think he ever got over you.”

  “Adam,” Noah warned. He received a bratty-little-brother-type grin for his effort.

  “What? First love takes you by the balls and never lets go. Not really. And you two had it bad for each other.”

  Harper’s gaze flicked to Noah. His face was unreadable.

  Could he still be in love with her? It was highly unlikely. Yet, he had kissed her. There might be feelings beyond an obvious lingering attraction. She seriously hoped not.

  “So, are you still racing Motocross?” she said abruptly. Adam laughed. She’d effectively changed the subject.

  “Nope. I gave that up five years ago when I broke my collarbone. Now I tinker with cars.”

  Noah grunted. “People send him their junky old muscle cars from all over the world. He gets paid a shit load of money to revamp the wrecks. His work’s been featured in every car magazine on the planet and he’s won a ton of awards.”

  “Congratulations!” She was so happy for Adam. “Maybe he can turn my rental into a race car.”

  Adam’s face took on a look of horror. “Are you talking about that hunk of junk in the driveway?”

  “The same.” She snickered, shifted a glance to Noah, and caught him staring at her. From the heated and intense look in his blue eyes, he was both thinking about their too-brief kiss…and wondering what the older Harper looked like undressed.

  Oh, boy.

  Chapter 17

  Harper left the guys to do what guys do when women are absent—kick tires, scratch, eat raw meat. Okay, she’d really made a run for a safe zone before Adam caught on to the reason for her blush. She and Noah hadn’t gotten past a chaste kiss, yet she could imagine his rough palms on her bare skin.

  The thought freaked her out.

  She closed the door behind her, threw the bolt, and hurried to the kitchen to lock the glass doors, too. Since Noah had given her the spare key, she had to hope he didn’t have a drawer full of back-ups to his back-up key. She needed some alone time to get herself together.

  Why hadn’t she pushed him away before the kiss? It was as if her mouth was a moth heading straight for the front porch light, not realizing the heat could sizzle her wings off.

  And everything else, too.

  How had she expected that she could work with him in a professional manner when all she wanted was to press her naked body against his naked body?

  “What’s wrong with me?” The same thing that was wrong with her when she’d been seventeen and he was everything bad for her. He was like that first sneaked sip of beer at a family party, or eating half a cake when you know your jeans are already too tight. You know it’s wrong, but you can’t help yourself.

  Noah became an emotional high to a good girl who wanted to be a little bit bad, and she hadn’t been able to resist.

  Her phone chimed. “Harper?”

  Taryn. “Hey, you.” A flood of relief filled her. Taryn felt like a lifeline in the darkness. “I tried to call you.”

  “I know,” Taryn said. “Our operator passed on your call. She said you sounded anxious and had called from jail. I wish I’d phoned sooner, but it’s been crazy here.”

  “You’re still at Quantico?”

  “We are. We head back on Monday.”

  Drat. She’d hoped the Brash & Brazen operator had been wrong. She could use assistance from someone whose bones she didn’t want to jump.

  “So what’s up with the jail thing?” Taryn said. “Give me the brief overview. I have a workshop in thirty.

  Harper jumped right in. She was finished in ten. “We’ve talked to a couple of potential suspects but so far we have nothing. I’m hoping that when you get back, you can help?”

  She hated her helpless tone, but the walls were closing in. Willard had an army of lawyers and investigators digging for dirt to use against her. The truth of her innocence wouldn’t stand in his way.

  “We? Who are we?”

  “I hired Noah to help me. He has skills.”

  There was a pause. “Noah? As in Noah Slade, your ex?”

  “The same.”

  “Is that a good idea?” Taryn said slowly. She was known for speaking her mind. For her to be diplomatic meant she was concerned for Harper.

  “Probably not,” she admitted. She might as well get the truth out there as Taryn was like a human lie detector machine. “He’s hotter than ever and I’ve had dreams of us doing the wild thing.”

  Taryn sighed. “Not good.”

  The one thing about spending months together traveling in close quarters meant there were few secrets between the Muskrats cheerleading team members. Many nights were spent with wine and deep conversations. When Taryn, Summer, and Jess had been ejected from the bus by Willard and Alvin the Ape, Harper had been heartbroken. Only the financial strain of paying bills kept her on the team. But she hadn’t been silent about her feelings on the matter. No wonder Willard hated her.

  Her and her big mouth. It sure enjoyed getting her into trouble. Still, she wasn’t about to keep quiet when her friends had been wronged.

  Although she wore a sparkly skirt and sequins for her job, she was a protective tiger when it came to her friends.

  “I know that I’m walking a mine field.” How could she explain to Taryn how she felt about anything with her life so complicated? “I wouldn’t come within a hundred miles of Noah if I had any other choice. He’s my kryptonite. He’s also my best choice to get me out of this murder rap.”

  She could hear Taryn breathing on the other end so she knew the line was still open. Taryn was a loyal friend. She’d do what she could for the case.

  “I’ll come home today.”

  “Absolutely not.” Harper took a breath. “Please finish your week. I’m fine. Really. I can handle this until you get back.”

  She needed help, not protection. She wouldn’t go down with a whimper, but a roar. Muskrat cheerleaders were tough.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  They ended the call with the promise that Taryn would call when she returned to Michigan. Just having that lifeline, even if she didn’t use it, gave her comfort.

  Harper stared at the phone. Everything inside her wanted to call Taryn back and beg her to use Summer and Jess’s talents to end this ridiculous witch hunt, but the kickass part of her said hell no.

  Noah had skills even if they’d gotten off to a slow start. They needed to keep their lips off each other and focus.

  So she sat on the couch with a pad and paper and listed everyone who hated Gerald and could kill him.

  With the list down to fifteen suspects, she took a second look and crossed off two who she deduced were more bluster than murderous. She could add them again later if the evidence pointed their way.

  At the top of the list, she’d put Kimmie. True t
hat Kimmie was a third of Gerald’s size and unlikely able to plunge a knife in his chest, but she was also the one person who’d dealt with the most crap from the boss.

  With testimony from the team to back her up as to what Gerald had put her through, no sensible jury would ever convict her. What if he’d tried something on her, and she killed him in self-defense?

  That’s why Harper had to talk to her. Even if she wasn’t the killer, she might know stuff. Assistants were often privy to a surprising number of secrets. Gerald couldn’t sneeze without Kimmie making a note of it in her laptop.

  The squawk of tires outside broke into her thoughts. Curious, she went to the window and peered out. A black SUV stood parked at the curb and someone loitered near her car.

  Concerned that the rental might be vandalized—not that it could hurt the car any worse—she hurried outside. A large man in black leaned over to check the missing hubcap tire. She grabbed a small flowerpot off the deck rail and hoisted it like a weapon.

  That damn car was going back to Cheap in one piece if she had to hire a security guard to guard against future damage.

  She got within five feet of the guy when his deep voice brought her upright.

  “You actually drive this piece of shit?”

  There was something familiar about him. He straightened to the height of a grown grizzly bear and turned. She squeaked in shock as the familiar face came into view.

  “Hello, Harper.”

  Chapter 18

  “Alvin?” Alvin the Ape stared down at Harper from under a bushy black uni-brow, with just a hint of amusement in his dark eyes, while she prayed for her bladder not to let go.

  He’d always been a scary figure when he’d been Willard’s bodyguard. After ejecting her friends from the team bus after Taryn rearranged Willard’s face, legend had grown with rumors of him turning assassin.

  Whether he did anyone in wasn’t the point, and she knew Taryn had befriended him since that unfortunate day. Still, he was scary and dangerous looking. He could squish her like a gnat with his big hairy paw.

  Even though he no longer worked for Willard, it made sense that Willard could have hired him to dispatch her to the great beyond as revenge for Gerald’s death. After all, once a hired killer always a hired killer. Right?

  Since Noah wasn’t in sight for backup, and Alvin outweighed her by two-and-a-half times at least, she had to use brains versus brawn. After all, her IQ must be well past his on every chart. Maybe mix in some intimidation and she’d take down the giant before he realized what was happening.

  Ready kickass cheerleader? Go!

  “I swear I didn’t kill Gerald,” she begged in a hoarse whisper-whimper. “Please don’t hurt me. I still have a long life to live.”

  What the heck, Harper? A baby lamb could have done better! So much for playing tough.

  Alvin’s face went blank for a long beat; then he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What is with you cheerleaders?” he grunted under his breath. “Do I look like a killer to you?”

  “You kind of do.” The words slipped out. She quickly backpedaled. “I mean, no you don’t.”

  A sigh and an eye roll followed. “I knew I should have taken a Xanax on the way over.”

  Confused by the comment, she thought he was looking less killer-like by the second. She didn’t know much about assassins but assumed they didn’t question their scariness or deny their past acts of violence.

  “You’re not here to kill me?”

  “Not today. Ask me tomorrow.” He braced his feet and tugged on his beard. “Taryn called me. I came to help with the case.”

  Now this was a twist. “You work with Taryn?” Of all the things he could have said, this was the last she expected. Her friend and the assassin were closer than she thought.

  Using grunts, sighs, and less than a hundred words, he filled her in. Again, she couldn’t be more surprised that he’d gone from ape-bodyguard to assassin to bodyguard again. Boy, had she been out of the loop since her three friends began working for Brash & Brazen.

  Nevertheless, the story seemed improbable. She had to confirm. “Okay, just to be clear, you’re on my side?”

  He glared. “Ask me that again and I might dump you and that piece of shit car in the Huron River.”

  Well over six feet tall, hairy, and a genetic mix of who-knew-what, he was the perfect movie-type villain. To change everything she knew up to this point, because he said so, wasn’t easy. She’d seen the ejection of her friends from the team bus. They’d hit the ground at the bottom of the bus stairs in a heap of arms and legs. The guy wasn’t nice.

  She lifted a finger and turned her back to him. “Give me a second.” She whipped out her phone and texted Taryn.

  Harper: Alvin a good guy?

  A few seconds passed.

  Taryn: Yes.

  She clicked the phone off, spun, and smiled. “Welcome to the team, big guy!”

  * * * *

  Perhaps she should have thought over Alvin’s involvement before she took him on. Just the sight of him hulking around like Frankenstein might terrify witnesses. Worse, it didn’t take long to realize that he had no real investigative skills. The job he’d chosen was as her lovely assistant (i.e. bodyguard) without any of the “lovely.” It didn’t matter that she already had Noah.

  And he was “lovely.”

  When she firmly tried to back out of the deal—about thirty seconds after he brow-beat her car keys from her—he bossed her into the car, and stubbornly refused to leave her alone.

  “You’re stuck with me until Taryn gets back.”

  A brief and argumentative phone conversation with Taryn while hiding in a mini-mart bathroom, minutes after they left her apartment, left Harper no further ahead in reneging the offer. Taryn brushed off her concerns and told her that Willard must be dangerous in the bullish state of grief he was in.

  “Who better to watch over you than the guy who was once his muscle?” Taryn ended the call with a breezy, “To know Alvin is to love him!”

  Like that would ever happen. Grumbling as she left the bathroom, she found her new temporary bodyguard loitering near a rack of Funyuns, while holding a package of Twinkies, a sleeve of beef jerky, and a large diet Coke.

  A woman spotted Alvin, grabbed her two kids by the hands, and rushed around him and out the door.

  “Ready?” Alvin chirped happily. The man clearly knew what she’d been up to and was messing with her. He’d probably had his ear pressed to the door.

  She grumbled past him and headed for the car. The only pleasure she took in the situation came from watching Alvin uncomfortably fold himself into the small vehicle.

  “I want to drive,” she insisted. They were seven minutes into this adventure and she’d already lost control.

  “No.” He jangled the keys and climbed behind the wheel. With the seat moved all the way back, his knees were splayed out to the sides to keep from being jammed up against the wheel. He was like a clown in a circus mini car.

  Watching him shifting was amusing.

  With his large body taking up most of the front seat, she either had to ride next to him with his knee in her lap, again, or ride in the back.

  There was one clear choice.

  She climbed into the back seat and snapped on her belt. They took off. The man had a lead foot. “I feel like an idiot,” she grumped. “Who gets chauffeured around in a wrecked rental?”

  “We could have taken my SUV.” The big black SUV was still sitting on the curb in front of her apartment. It was pure stubbornness that kept her from accepting his offer.

  “I’m fine.” A set jaw ended the conversation and she stewed for much of the ninety-minute drive.

  Thankfully, they made it all the way to Lansing without Harvey scattering parts far and wide. Her taping skills were stellar.

  The stadium loome
d large as they weaved their way around the city. Harper’s eyes misted over at the sight of the massive building. Despite being employed by the Covington family, she’d loved her job and the people who worked for the Muskrats.

  They were her crazy extended family.

  With her mind drifting over the fun times and what she’d lost, she didn’t notice that they’d parked in the lot until Alvin turned in the seat.

  “Do you need a moment?” he said. He’d pulled a paper food napkin out of the glove box. One corner of the paper product had a stain that resembled taco sauce.

  Harper brushed a hand over her damp cheeks and refused to be baited. “I’m okay.” She drew in a breath and pushed open the door. “Let’s take the back entrance.”

  They had to weave in and out of the garbage dumpsters to get to the large roll up doors where deliveries and the lesser minions—the employees (Willard’s words)—had to enter.

  Although Harper and the other cheerleaders were not required to enter here, they often went this way, to protest for the better treatment of everyone on the Muskrat payroll.

  Besides, taking the back way kept them out of sight of Willard and Gerald’s creepy friends.

  “Hey, Gus.” She smiled at the graying security guard who sat on a stool and checked ID’s. “How’s the back?” Gus was only fifty and had arthritis of the spine. It caused a slight curvature and caused him pain.

  “There’s my sweet girl.” He held his arms out. She gave him a gentle hug. “I’ve missed you around here.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” She pulled back and looked him over. “Isn’t it time for you to get a medical leave and retire to a beach in Florida? I know your grandkids would love to have you around.”

  He adjusted his hat. “Soon. Real soon.”

  It was the same story. Gus didn’t want an early retirement. He believed people retired, then died of boredom. His health would force it someday.

  “So what can I do for you, young lady?” His gaze skipped to Alvin. He frowned. As Willard’s sidekick, Alvin hadn’t been popular with the staff. Gus pointedly ignored him.