The Sweetheart Game

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  Following suit, she and Jason also peeked, leaving her feeling a little foolish.

  The man Jer indicated was somewhere in his fifties and had the weathered and rangy look of a man who’d lived a tough life. Graying hair stuck out from under a Produce Pantry ball cap and he was cutting open boxes and stacking cucumbers in perfect rows in the bin.

  “He kind of looks like a serial killer,” Jason offered.

  “From nineteen-eighty-two maybe,” she said. The man had a pronounced limp and one hand was kind of arthritic. She highly doubted he’d have the strength to make off with one fully grown woman. “I guess we should talk to him anyway.”

  Summer rounded Jer and headed for Harold. He was holding a box cutter in his good hand, a cucumber in the other, and smelled of stale cigarette smoke. She kept the stack of boxes between them. Just in case. “Are you Harold Blum?”

  “I am.”

  He had the wary eyes of a man with secrets. If he had Mary, she intended to get it out of him by any means. Time was ticking away. “Do you know Mary Crosby,” she asked.

  “Who?”

  She held up her phone with Mary’s picture. “This woman is missing and we have reason to believe you might know where she is. Do you know where she is, Harold?”

  “What do you mean, she’s missing? I don’t know her. I’ve never seen her.” His eyes darted back and forth like a trapped bunny’s. “Who told you I knew her?”

  “Did you kill her?” Summer pressed. She braced for a foot chase if he bolted.

  “What? No!” He waved the cuke and glanced around as if looking for an escape route. That plan ended when his eyes landed on Jer. “You! You did this!” He let out a growl and leapt over the box with surprising agility, his eyes locked onto Jer. The cuke and box cutter were still gripped tightly in his hands. “I’m going to kill you, you little shit!”

  Jer jumped back, knocking over the corn display. “I gave you the best nine weeks of my life, you damn cheater!” Jer yelled before tripping over cans and bolting for the dairy cases displaying unpasteurized milk and cheese.

  A large woman with a handbasket jumped out of the way, tripped on a can, and went down hard. Screaming could be heard as Jer and Harold rounded the corner past the refrigerator case and vanished into the bowels of the Produce Pantry.

  “Should we go after them so they don’t kill each other?” Summer asked and bit her bottom lip.

  “Nope.” Jason said and walked briskly toward the exit.

  * * *

  “If we get arrested as accessories to murder, I’m giving you up,” she said as they settled into her car. “I don’t think I’d last long in prison.”

  “Good to know.” He ran his eyes over her.

  The sky had gotten cloudy and she’d put the top up when they’d arrived. Without the open sky above them, and Jason just an arm span away in the enclosed car, she got a rush of jitters. His stare didn’t help. The guy had the ability to both attract and annoy her at the same time.

  Time to refocus. “People don’t just vanish,” she said and watched a cart blow across the lot and hit a silver BMW.

  “People vanish all the time.”

  She frowned. “Not helpful.” She tapped her palms on the steering wheel. “Maybe I should let Taryn or Jess take over the case? They are experts at finding people.”

  Jason popped the last bit of a GMO-free hot dog he’d bought from a vendor outside the building. A sign claimed the pig snouts and entrails used in processing the dogs were free range; as if that made the idea of eating them more palatable. Summer had passed and bought a water—the bottle was made from recycled plastic and the organic water was pulled directly from the Huron River. Holding the bottle up to the light, the water was slightly beige with tiny particles floating about. She dropped it into a recycling can.

  After a big swallow, he spoke, “I never took you for a quitter. Five minutes into this case and you’re ready to throw in the towel.”

  “I’m not ready to quit!” Okay, she was. “I’m just not equipped to do field work. I’m the computer tech.”

  “Then why don’t you find her that way?” He opened the window and tossed the hot dog bag fifteen feet into a beat up trash can.

  Impressive. At her look, he explained, “High school basketball. Four years.”

  A few drops of rain hit the windshield. Seconds later, a deluge enveloped the car. “I poked around online already and didn’t find anything. Except for her credit card usage that last day, she’s off the grid.”

  Jason watched the rain. “Unless she took to the mountains of Alaska, no one ever vanishes completely,” he said. “And since Michigan is not mountainous, and I don’t think she’s a survivalist, she has to show up somewhere. Stretch the boundaries of your thinking.”

  “Like check out surveillance cameras from a store or gas station she stopped at, something like that?” Hope welled. Until they found her body, Summer refused to believe Mary was dead. The idea of finding her online fit right in her skill set. “We should go home so I can start looking.”

  An hour later, and with unsuccessful stops at Meijer and Target along the way, Summer was seated at her computer as adrenaline rushed through her. Jason was right. She’d limited her search to credit card statements. There were a lot of other options.

  “We have Mary’s picture, so I’ll start a facial recognition program. Then I’ll check the security feeds off local businesses she frequents from her credit card statements. We should look for anyone who appears to be watching her as she shops.”

  She looked over her shoulder. Jason was frowning. “If you can’t take a little rule bending, choir boy, you can go.”

  The frown deepened. “Wanting to stay out of prison doesn’t make me a choir boy.” He crossed his arms. “Shit. Is that the FBI database?”

  “Maybe.” She spun her chair around. “Before you freak out, I have FBI clearance.” She didn’t need to tell him about her criminal hunting. He already thought she was nutty. “I’ve helped them on a couple of cases, so they let me use their database.”

  Well, sort of. She’d been caught hacking the FBI database while at college, to find an online predator who was stalking a student in her dorm. He was caught and arrested. Once the feds discovered what she’d done and how, they were impressed and let her go with a warning and offered her a job, which she refused. Too many rules. But they did clear her for basic access and she occasionally did assist with cases in her free time. The FBI and CIA also happily arrested the criminals found through her group. It was a win-win for everyone.

  Without waiting for his answer, she spun back around. “I’ll only be able to check security feeds if they’re on a network. The old video tape VCRs won’t have internet connections.”

  With a copy of Mary’s last credit card statement opened up side-by-side with a second screen, she dug in. The process proved painfully slow. “It’s hard to believe so many businesses either don’t have cameras or are old school. Who uses cassette tapes anymore?”

  She moved on to the next store on the statement.

  “There she is,” Jason said over her shoulder. The feed came from Pretty Pinkie’s nail salon’s external camera. It showed her coming and going a day before she vanished. “She came alone and left alone.”

  Jason bent for a closer look. His chin almost rested on her left shoulder. She could hear him breathing.

  Summer fast forwarded as Mary pulled out of the lot. “She wasn’t kidnapped there.” Was that shaky voice hers? Every time he leaned in to examine the video, her breath caught and her stomach fluttered. She wanted to lean in and nuzzle his neck. The man was killing her with his sexiness.

  “Hopefully, she wasn’t kidnapped at all,” he said and pulled back. Was he unaffected by her? It seemed so.

  Clicking off, she scanned the statement and moved on to a local mini mall. Scrolling back to the day on the statement, she pulled up a feed for an Italian grocery store. It took a couple of minutes to find her.

  “Ther
e.” Summer pointed to the screen. The feed was grainy, but Mary had a certain walk Summer now recognized, like she was having a hard time placing her feet. “She’s been sick for months. It shows.”

  “All from drinking bad water?”

  Summer shrugged. “That’s what has baffled her doctor. He thinks she picked up something more serious like a parasite. He’s the one sending her to Mayo.”

  Mary had been frustrated by the lingering illness.

  “I don’t see anyone following her.” She slowed the video until Mary went inside. Summer dug around but there was no interior video. She fast forwarded to Mary’s exit. She carried a plastic grocery bag and clutched her purse.

  “She’s walking out of view.”

  “Darn.” Summer bit her bottom lip. “I think there’s a Lowes next door. They should have decent cameras.” A few minutes later she was in. Jason leaned close. “There she is.” The video was at a distance but clear and aimed out at the parking lot. Mary walked to her car across the top of the screen and dropped the bag in the back seat. A man approached on foot. Summer held her breath. He continued past and headed for the grocery store.

  Seconds later, Mary drove away. No cars followed.

  Jason expelled a breath. “This could take forever. Why don’t we take a break?”

  Summer scanned the statement and closed the screen. “I’ve never known anyone who shopped so much. I swear she hits ten stores a day.” She stood. “If someone took her, she could’ve picked up a stalker anywhere at any time.”

  “Someone could’ve followed her home from a previous encounter.” Jason fell in behind her. “It’s too bad there’s no snoopy neighbor to watch her house.”

  “That would help.” Summer frowned at him and they went downstairs. She knew exactly what he meant. “Had she lived next door to me, I would have seen her dragged into a van, gave chase, and we’d already have her back. There is something to be said about being vigilant.”

  He grinned. “I concede. You are an excellent spy.”

  “Hmmm.” She hit the lower landing.

  “Why don’t we check on the cat and I’ll feed you,” Jason said. “I have sandwich fixings.”

  Although she knew she should take a break from him—she was already unsettled because of the last two hours of up-close contact—she wanted to make sure Mrs. Kravitz was okay. As long as he kept his hands to himself, she’d be fine. Sure.

  “If you have turkey and cheese, it’s a deal,” she said.

  * * *

  Jason left Summer with the cat and turned his attention to making lunch. He retrieved two plates and stuck his head in the fridge far longer than needed while collecting sandwich makings.

  Being so close to his neighbor, with her sweet scent doing damage to his body, had been torture. Now she was talking sweetly to the cat, and when taken out of context, some of those innocent sounds could be construed as slightly erotic.

  Or at least his body thought so. Damn.

  “Would you like a pickle with your sandwich?” he called out and reached for the dill jar.

  “Yes, please! I love pickles!”

  Oh, hell. He chuckled as his dick twitched.

  “I swear she’s about to pop,” Summer said and joined him in the kitchen as he put the food on plates. She had the cat in her arms and snuggled her like a baby. “We should take her for another checkup.” She lowered the feline bowling ball to the ground and went for the cat treats on the counter. “I think she might actually explode.”

  He glanced down as Mrs. Kravitz begged for a treat. Kittens weren’t the only thing causing her roundness. She loved to eat. “You could be right, although, I’ve never heard of a pregnant cat spontaneously detonating.”

  “She could be the first.” She handed out two treats and said in a husky voice, “You are such a good girl.”

  Visions of Summer naked in his bed danced in his head like sugar plums. If he found her under his tree, wrapped in nothing but tinsel and wearing a Santa hat, that would be the best Christmas ever.

  Too bad the holiday was seven months away.

  He collected a pair of bottled waters from a fresh mountain stream in the Southern Alps, walked to the table, and set down the plates. From that angle, he got an excellent view of her butt. Her form-fitting skinny jeans left nothing to the imagination. He sat before she noticed his rising, um, interest.

  She took the chair across from him and dug into her pickles. God, he was a dog. Thankfully, all evidence of his arousal was covered by the solid cherry table. It was a relief when she moved on to the sandwich and ended the torture. She ate for a minute before turning her attention to him. Their eyes met.

  There was something dark in her expression.

  “Is there something wrong with the food?” he said. Perhaps he should have checked the expiration on the mayo. He sniffed his sandwich. It seemed okay.

  “Lunch is fine.” She reached for the water bottle and twisted off the cap. “We may be looking at Mary’s missing person case the wrong way.”

  He stared. “How so?”

  “I think Mel may have killed Mary.”

  Chapter 15

  “That’s quite a leap.” Jason leaned on his elbows and scanned her face. “You think her husband killed her? Why?”

  “It makes sense, doesn’t it? Statistically, the spouse is usually the killer.” Summer sipped the water. “Just because they looked like the perfect couple doesn’t mean that he loved her. He could have wanted a divorce or had a girlfriend on the side.”

  “True. But that would only fit if she’s dead. She could have run off with the gardener. Someone has to be mowing that big lawn and I’ve never seen Mel do it.”

  They did have the biggest yard and house on the street. “Doobie Stuart mows their grass. It’s unlikely that Mary’s taken off with him. He’s seventeen and a high school dropout.”

  “Doobie?”

  “He smokes a little pot. Okay, a lot of pot.”

  Jason scratched his head. He didn’t know Mary well, but that did seem farfetched. “I think we can rule Doobie out.”

  Mary was about three times the lawn boy’s age and used to a certain level of living. Hitting the road with an underage kid going nowhere fast, didn’t make sense. Still, he’d check to see if Doobie had seen anything.

  The more he considered Summer’s theory, the more he thought it might have merit. “Can you run Mel’s credit card to see if he’s made purchases, like a motel room, to confirm an affair? Or see what he bought during his last trip to Home Depot?”

  “I can do that.” A smile appeared. “Thanks for helping. I’ve worked for Irving for three years and have been mostly support for Jess and Taryn. If I can solve this mystery, I might take on more field work. It’s nice to get out.”

  “You’re welcome, although you didn’t give me a choice.”

  “We always have choices,” she said. “You can’t tell me that you aren’t intrigued by this mystery.”

  He grinned lazily. “I have enjoyed watching you fumble around. It’s like the first time a baby bird jumps from the nest and hits the pavement.”

  Her nose went up. “I wasn’t fumbling.”

  “Really?” he said slowly. “You asked the guy in the Meijer meat department if he was having an affair with Mary.”

  “I did not!” She flushed. “I may have implied a clandestine relationship but didn’t accuse him. He was kind of Harrison Ford cute. That lady from the U-scan lanes did say they flirt every time Mary comes in. I just wanted to rule him out.”

  “He had an alibi. A heart cauterization.”

  “So he said.” At his frown, she added, “Fine. He’s out.”

  “Good idea.” Jason stretched out a long leg and relaxed back on the chair. “What’s next, Summer? Will we go back to your lair and find out what Mel’s been up to?”

  * * *

  The way he looked at her with those soft green eyes made her all gooey. And she wasn’t one to get emotional about men. Her bad luck, or bad ta
ste, led her to men who only wanted one thing and it wasn’t her opinions on possible life forms on Mars, or the dangers of processed meats. In Jason’s case, he didn’t openly stare at her chest or try to feel her up uninvited. In fact, he’d been a gentleman.

  Wait. Maybe he wasn’t into her. A kiss or two between friends could be nothing more than an exploratory effort to see if there was sexual attraction. Could it be that she wasn’t his type? Did he think she was a bad kisser?

  Feeling a bit puzzled about his lack of interest, she reminded herself that she wasn’t out for a romance. It didn’t matter if he liked her as nothing more than a friend.

  Did it?

  Unable to see beyond the hazy lusty fog inside the orbit that was Jason, it was time to get distance, and clarity. To do so meant to get the heck out of his house.

  “I have to go into the office for a couple of hours. Irving has been getting some weird letters,” she said and jumped to her feet. “I’m going to see if I can figure out who mailed them. Mel will have to wait.”

  Chicken. She could put off Irving until tomorrow, but she didn’t think she could take any more up close and personal with Jason today. She already wondered how often he changed his sheets and whether he manscaped down there.

  Gawd. Flee! Flee!

  “See you later,” she said and headed for the door.

  * * *

  Irving was standing behind his huge mahogany desk wearing one of his favorite daily wear outfits when she arrived a half an hour later. Decked out in a yellow shirt and yellow and blue plaid pants, he was as old as dirt and thus able to pull off any sort of combo of plaid. His bodyguard, the ape-like Alvin, was standing near the window with his arms crossed over his hulking chest and the two appeared to be having an intense conversation.

  Irving broke off the argument when Summer arrived in the doorway and took a seat. “There’s my favorite Summer.”

  Alvin snorted.

  In Summer, Taryn, and Jess’s previous lives as NFL cheerleaders, Alvin had worked for their former employer and had roughly ejected them from the team bus when Taryn Maced Willard after an unwanted advance. Summer thought they’d seen the last of the hulking presence when the bus kicked up dirt in their faces as it sped off.