The Sweetheart Game

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  “And don’t come back!” The kid probably wouldn’t stop until he hit Ypsilanti.

  “Was that necessary?” Jason asked as he joined her. His voice was full of humor.

  “He tried to feel me up last week,” she said and bent to brush grass off her jeans. “The little monster.”

  Jason pulled a piece of leaf out of her hair. “Who can blame him? I want to feel you up.”

  She tipped her head sideways and glared up at him. “Just because I kissed you does not mean this will go any further.” She straightened. “I don’t do one-night stands and I’m not ready for a relationship. Sharing a cat is all the connection you’re getting from me.”

  “Then we agree. I don’t want a relationship either.” He ruffled his hair to eject anything he might have picked up from the lawn. “After my mom died, my dad dragged women in and out of my life so fast that by the time I got used to one, she was gone. I wouldn’t know a successful relationship if it bit me in the ass.”

  The image left her a little sad. At least her grandparents gave her stability. “Your dad and my mom should get together. Tammy isn’t happy unless she’s screwing up someone’s life.”

  Most everything she said was true. What wasn’t true was the whole relationship part. Deep down in the pit of her sweet southern heart was a woman who wanted love and a family. With her grandparents gone, and Heather under the questionable care of their mother, Summer was for all intents and purposes alone. She wanted the picket fence and two-point-five children. She wanted to build a family, a stable and loving family, while still kicking criminal butts, of course.

  “How did we grow up normal?” he asked.

  Summer snorted. “You call us normal? You bury dead animals in your backyard and I spend twenty-four-seven on my computer. We barely know each other and we already share a cat, have kissed a couple of times, and yet we run from relationships. We are, by no stretch, normal.”

  “You forgot about our messed-up childhoods.”

  “Right.” Summer sighed. “Perhaps we can get a discount on group therapy.”

  “Or we can have sex. It’ll cure about anything.”

  Her eyes narrowed. He did look yummy all mussed up from their wrestling match. “So will aspirin.”

  * * *

  Damn. Although he didn’t expect her to drag him into his house and tear off his clothes, one could hope. Summer was so damn sexy with grass in her hair that his caveman gene wanted to kick off his loincloth and make her howl. The enlightened part of him knew she’d wake up tomorrow wishing they’d never met. If he wanted to keep her around as his first friend in Michigan, which he did, he’d have to behave.

  Time for a subject change. “I should go in. It’s getting late. I should get some work done before bed.”

  Summer stared. “What is it exactly that you do? You said you were in publishing. That’s kind of vague.”

  Was it time to come clean? It wasn’t that he kept his Mick Malone novels secret. Rather, he just liked to keep both parts of his life separate. A couple of stalkers years earlier made that case for him. He realized he wasn’t ready to share.

  “I work on special projects.” Before she could press him, he added, “I have to go. See you tomorrow.”

  He went inside under the weight of her glare. He fed the cat and checked out her ever-expanding belly, convinced that she was ready to pop. She followed him into his office and lay down on her cat bed. Her loud purring sounded in the room. Smiling, he signed on to his computer.

  Thoughts of Summer kept him from work. Rather than stare at a blank page, he signed onto the Hunters chat. Several members were talking up their latest catches. He scrolled up and down for Hotsummernites, again finding it interesting that two women who kept his mind challenged both had a summer connection.

  Hotsummernites wasn’t online. Damn. Although HSN wasn’t real outside of the chat group, he did enjoy flirting with her. She offered a nice distraction. So he sent her a private note. Seconds later, she responded back.

  HSN: I’m here.

  Poefan7: We haven’t talked much lately.

  HSN: I know. I’ve been busy with work.

  Poefan7: Anything to share?

  HSN: Sorry. It’s against the rules.

  Poefan7: So is messaging offline.

  HSN: True. We are a pair of rebels!

  Jason liked how messaging her lifted his mood. If only they could meet in person. But chances were they’d both be disappointed. Online relationships rarely lived up to their hype. Fantasy was always better than reality. Having watched a few episodes of Catfish with his grandfather confirmed this. However, a few details couldn’t hurt. He already was too fixated on her only wearing pink polish.

  Poefan7: Tell me something personal about you.

  HSN: Not allowed.

  Poefan7: Please?

  HSN: Okay. I have blue eyes.

  Poefan7: I like blue eyes.

  HSN: What about you?

  Poefan7: I’m a novelist.

  HSN: Really?

  Poefan7: Really.

  HSN: Have I read your books?

  Poefan7: Maybe.

  HSN: Now I’m intrigued.

  Poefan7: Sorry, you get nothing else.

  HSN: Tease.

  He chuckled. They talked for another hour about manhunts and news and the weather. By the time they said their goodnights, Jason was ready to work and Summer was in the back of his mind.

  He updated his newsletter and wrote a solid chapter, leaving Mick contemplating a sexual encounter with a mysterious redhead. Satisfied with the chapter ending, he signed out and stared at the blank screen.

  He left the office and went to the kitchen for a beer. His cell chimed before he could twist off the cap. Curious who’d be texting at the late hour, he swiped open the phone.

  Follow the paper trail and catch the rat.

  Chapter 18

  “We can’t break into the man’s house,” Jason said as he stared across the street. He wasn’t afraid of getting caught. He’d been in worse situations in the past. He didn’t want her to damage her reputation and job by getting arrested, for starters. Or shot by the homeowner. “Even you can’t think that’s legal. Anything we find will probably be thrown out of court.”

  Summer frowned. A small line appeared between her brows. “I don’t want to break into the house. Yet. If he killed her there, he’d have cleaned up the evidence. However, there are still a few things we can do.”

  “Then what is your plan?” He dropped the curtain into place and stepped back. “The texts gave us nothing to point to any suspect. And how did he get our cell numbers?”

  “It isn’t that hard,” Summer said. “Unless you live in an underground bunker and don’t pay taxes, nothing is private anymore.”

  Jason didn’t like the idea of someone knowing everything about them. It felt like stalking. “Whoever is sending the texts may be playing a sadistic game and nothing else.”

  “Yes, but if not, I believe the rat has to be Mel. We’ve found no other suspects, like a scorned lover or enemy. I want to check out the garage and shed to see if we find anything to lead to his guilt.”

  “Or away from it.” He tried to keep reason in the conversation and take out the emotion. Again. Truthfully, he suspected Mel, too. But his former cop training told him to go slowly. Many a case had been thrown out by lack of evidence or questionable investigative practices. “We’ve heard nothing to show they were unhappily married.”

  “Don’t forget the insurance policies.” She stubbornly set her chin and lifted Mrs. Kravitz from her lap. “Some killers like to keep their victims close. They sometimes bury bodies in their own backyards. If Mel did Mary in, she might still be over there.”

  Jason considered that. “I don’t think Mel would be that stupid. The cops will be all over his property.”

  “You’re right. However, the police are only looking for Mary as a missing person. They haven’t done a search yet. If Mel hid her there, even temporarily, there
may be DNA.”

  Summer brushed hair off her jeans. “We won’t touch anything. If we find blood, we can shoot off an anonymous call to the police. They can confirm the find on their own.”

  In as much as he wanted to dismiss her plan as crazy, there was a certain excitement to doing some real investigating again, beyond just writing about it and doing research for his books. Mick Malone would never turn down the chance to pull on his trench coat and sidle down a dark alley after clues.

  “I’m in and I’ll wear my black pleather pants.” Jason said. Her bright smile kicked him in the gut. He hoped her happiness was worth possible jail time. “But if we get caught, I plan to dump all the blame on you.”

  She smiled at his play on her previous comment, and her pretty eyes lit up.

  “Is that so?” She pushed off the chair. “I was thinking I just have to outrun you . . . and the police . . . and I’m free.” At his brow lift, she crossed her arms. “I already kicked your butt. Do I have to show you how fast I am, too?”

  He suspected that she was all bluster and no backup. Outside of her wearing that new running outfit the day she twisted her ankle, he’d never seen her hit the streets. However, since he hadn’t run since he moved here from Chicago, he didn’t doubt that even without practice, she could win. She was fit in other ways. “I know better than to challenge you. I give.”

  Damn she was beautiful when she was amused at his expense. He might have to flex something before she got too competitive and ruined his rep as a tough guy.

  “When are we hitting Mel’s property?” he asked to change the subject back.

  “I don’t have the energy to go tonight so what about tomorrow night? Mary and he used to go to bingo on Tuesdays. Unless he’s not up to going without her, he’ll be gone for three hours.”

  * * *

  Summer pulled the new ski cap over her hair and tucked a few wayward strands up under the stretchy knit. Right away, her head began to itch. She rarely wore hats for this reason. So she dug her nails in and gave her scalp a scratch.

  “You okay?” Jason said as he pulled on his black winter cap. “Did the cat give you fleas?”

  “Funny.” She wanted to pull the cap off. “I think I’m allergic to yarn.” She straightened her black, long-sleeved shirt over the waistband of her black jeans and went to the window. Mel had left a half hour earlier and his house was quiet. “We should hurry or we’ll run out of time.”

  Jason nodded. Also all in black, he looked awfully sexy. She’d not been disappointed that he did not, in fact, even own pleather pants. “You look like an international jewel thief.”

  Watching him, she looked for any reaction that might lead her to believe he was a criminal. There was nothing. Instead of an awkward moment, he grinned and tugged on his gloves. “Watch out or I’ll lift your watch.”

  She’d rather he stole her clothes off her body, but kept that wish to herself. She’d seen her mother make enough bad choices about men that she didn’t want to make the same mistakes herself.

  When she did decide to have another relationship, she wanted a guy she could trust completely. She’d been too trustworthy once and it almost ruined her innocence.

  Shaking off unwelcome memories, she steeled herself for courage and faced her partner. Between them, the mission should be a success. “I’ll turn off the lights and meet you at the door.”

  It was just before ten when they wandered across the street. It was dark enough to put them in shadow, and chilly enough to make wearing a cap acceptable. Summer led Jason down the block and around two corners. Mel’s property backed up to a dentist’s office parking lot. At the late hour, the parking lot was empty. So far, so good.

  “Watch the curbs.” She passed across the lot to the fence line. The chain link was four feet high with triangle points on top. It would not be lethal if they fell, but it was high enough to hurt.

  Scrub trees and weeds closed in around them, making a decent cover from the street. “I hope there’s no poison ivy,” she whispered. Jason climbed over the fence and took her by the hand and pulled her over. She brushed up against him. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  For a second she thought he’d kiss her but he released her and stepped back. Perhaps he took their talk to heart and was keeping his distance? She knew she should be happy, but felt a little disappointed instead. How could he know what she wanted when she didn’t know herself? No wonder he was confused about where he stood.

  One day soon, they’d have to figure it all out.

  Turning to the search, she fell silent and listened for sounds of humans. After a minute, she was satisfied that they were alone. “Let’s go.”

  The rustle of dried oak and maple leaves marked their passage across the backyard. The Crosby’s had an extra lot which doubled the size of their property. The entire thing was fenced, going back to when they had a pair of little dogs who loved to run free.

  Their canine security ended when a coyote, half-starved and with a serious case of the mange hopped the fence and gobbled up one of the dogs. Well, part of him anyway. Luckily for Kibbles, Mel had come running after hearing the commotion and won the tug-o-war for the canine. The DNR trapped and dispatched the distemper-riddled coyote, and Kibbles spent the rest of his long life hobbling around on three-and-a-half legs, under the watchful eyes of his owners.

  “Let’s check the garage first,” Summer said. They headed for the detached building. Unfortunately, it was locked up tight. “Darn.” She poked around for a key under a door mat and beneath a trio of dead potted plants nearby. “Nothing.”

  “I guess we’ll have to settle for the shed,” Jason said.

  They turned to the dilapidated white building. It listed slightly to the left and was decades past needing a roof replacement. If there was any roof left.

  “That building was probably built back when the French fur traders sailed up the Detroit River looking for muskrats,” she said and cautiously moved closer. If a raccoon ran out, she was getting out of its way.

  “Why doesn’t Mel tear that piece of shit down,” he asked. “It’s already halfway there.”

  “Maybe it has sentimental value,” she offered.

  Jason made a face. “The only value it has is for bonfire building.” He walked over and stared upward. “If we go in we may not come back out. The roof is caved in in the center.”

  “You worry too much.” Summer tried the handle. It turned in her hand. The panel screamed for mercy as she pushed it open and stepped into the doorway. Then she felt something bounce off her arm and drop on her boot.

  Looking down, she shrieked!

  Chapter 19

  “What was that?” Summer said in a high-pitched voice as she walked in circles shaking her hands and shuddering.

  Jason clamped a glove over her mouth. “Do you want to get us caught?” he hissed in her ear.

  She pushed him off and lowered her voice. “It was a rat, wasn’t it? It hit my arm. I think I have rabies.”

  “You don’t have rabies and it wasn’t a rat.” He pointed down to where the tiny gray and white mouse had its tail trapped under his boot. Summer jumped backward. He lifted his toe and the mouse ran under the shed.

  “Are you sure?” She pushed up her sleeve and checked for teeth marks. “It attacked me.”

  He put on a serious expression. “I thing we found your weak spot. Rodents.” For a woman who fought like an MMA fighter, she sure didn’t like mice. “It wasn’t an attack but more like an accident. When you opened the door you dislodged it from its nest above the frame.” He indicated the damaged nest.

  Summer stopped flapping her hands. “Still, it could be rabid. Are rabies airborne?”

  “I don’t think so. I saw no foaming at the mouth or any indication that it suffered from a fatal disease.” He reached for her arm. There were no teeth marks. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll spray you with an anti-rabies antiseptic when we get back to my place.”

  She stilled.
“Are you mocking me?”

  “A little.”

  A scowl appeared. “I’ll have you know that I’m not just being a baby about this. We once lived in an old farm house that was infested with rats in the ceiling. One night while I was sleeping, the ceiling finally gave way and hundreds of rats broke through the plaster and landed all over my bed. It took years of therapy before I stopped having screaming nightmares.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Of course I’m kidding. Haven’t you seen Ratatouille?”

  “Is that a rock band?” He hadn’t seen the movie but he’d seen the trailers. “Didn’t they open up for that singer with the weird haircut?”

  With her arms crossed, it pushed up her full breasts. He was getting a little lightheaded.

  “Funny.” She wasn’t laughing. “It’s normal to have a fear of rodents, especially if one falls on you. It’s one of the most common fears.”

  “I did not know that.” Whether that was true or not, he let her off the hook. He might have freaked out himself if a mouse fell down his shirt. “You know what my biggest fear is? Getting caught by Mel! We should stop screaming and get investigating.”

  Summer sent him a death glare, nodded, and stared into the gaping hole that was the open door. “You go first.”

  Jason smiled and took the lead. He flicked on his penlight. The twenty-by-twenty space had a dirt floor covered in leaves and debris from the collapsed roof. In the corner crouched a rusted old John Deer lawn mower among a collection of equally rusted garden tools hanging from the wall and leaning against the mower.

  “Do you see a grave?” Summer said and grabbed the back of his shirt. The woman could take down a grown man but a mouse had really freaked her out.

  He scanned the ground for recent disturbance. “No grave. But there are footprints.”

  Summoning courage, she stepped around him, turned on her flashlight, and examined the prints. “They don’t look too new.” She kneeled and carefully cleared away leaves for a better look. “There are two sizes.”

  “Mel and Mary?”

  “Maybe. One set is smaller.” She stood and narrowed her eyes.