The Sweetheart Game

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  That’s where everything went wonky.

  For an instant the hood slid back and he lost his hold. The camera caught his face.

  “Is that George Clooney?” Jason said.

  Summer stomach dropped. “I think it is.”

  The woman reached out to right the kidnapper before he hit the ground. The scarf tangled around her legs and got pulled off her head. She appeared to be wearing a curly gray wig. Even from the angle, she didn’t look like Mary.

  Sajan slapped the laptop closed. “See, she was kidnapped. When do I get my reward?”

  Suspicion filled Summer. She wrestled the laptop out of his hand. “Let me see that again.” Jason stepped between them as Sajan made a strangled noise. “I think that woman was Indian.”

  Chapter 28

  “See! I told you it wouldn’t work!” yelled a female voice from near the coolers. “Law enforcement people are too smart!”

  “Quiet, Mother!” Sajan made a strangled noise. “It was her, Mary, I swear!” He dove for the computer and hit Jason in the chest instead. “Please! We can share the reward! Fifty-fifty!”

  Summer placed the laptop back on the counter and flipped it open. It was not protected and the screen opened. Sure enough, her suspicions were correct. “It appears that George Clooney has kidnapped Sajan’s mother.”

  “Nooooo.” The clerk was on the verge of panic. “You have to help me. Living with her is killing my love life.” He put his hands together as if praying. “I only need a few grand to get my own place. You can keep the rest.”

  Summer handed the laptop back. With a scowl, she led Jason out into the bright sunshine, annoyed that she’d been duped.

  “Wait! Pleeeaaassseee!”

  The glass door closed, cutting off whatever plea came next. Summer didn’t look back out of fear that she’d see him with his tearful face pressed against the glass.

  “I almost feel sorry for the guy,” Jason said when they stepped off the sidewalk into the parking lot.

  “I’m sorry we came over here for nothing.” She didn’t forgive the waste of time so easily. Although, having a pushy mother herself, she could relate. “I’d hoped we’d have a new lead to follow. The more time it takes to locate Mary, the less chance we have of ever finding her.”

  He hooked her arm through his. “I know you’re frustrated. It’s your first big case and you’re learning. I trust that you’ll solve this.”

  She leaned into him. “Thank you.”

  This wasn’t her first big case. Locally, yes, but she was an online hunter. She wanted to tell him about the game, but couldn’t due to confidentiality. Even though she no longer believed he was an international arms dealer, there were many things she didn’t know about him. And there was her little crush on Poefan7 . . . for now, her secret double life would remain secret.

  * * *

  Jason felt for her. She was running to nowhere on a hamster wheel and couldn’t get off. The case had clues and roadblocks and none of it made sense, yet, all of it made sense if Mel had poisoned his wife. But without Mary’s body, they couldn’t do anything to prove that theory.

  He nudged her into the truck and got behind the wheel. “I know what’ll make you feel better.”

  “We already did that,” she grumbled and slumped back on the seat. “The euphoric effects didn’t last long enough.”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “I’m letting that insult slide. No, I have another idea.”

  The Cupcake Whisperer was a confectionary store deep in the heart of Ann Arbor. It sold treats of all kinds, but cupcakes were their specialty. Obviously. If anything would bring Summer, who was hunched against the passenger door like a surly teenager, around it was chocolate.

  By some miracle, Jason found a parking place not too far from the shop and fed the meter with quarters scrounged from the console. When he used the last one, he came over and pulled open her door. “Let’s go.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  Boy. She was in a bad mood. So much for her sunny disposition. “I’ll give you five bucks if you get out.”

  Her eyes darted his way. “Ten.”

  “Fine.” He pulled her out on the curb. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re cute when you’re angry? This is new side of you. You should be surly more often. It will go with the black leather pants I’m getting you for Christmas.”

  Before she could respond he took her by the arm. “Come on. I have a surprise for you.”

  Like a wide-eyed kid standing outside the gates of Disney World, Summer faced the display in the window of the cupcake shop and all the tension drained out of her.

  “I’ve heard of this place but I’ve never been.” For the first time since she climbed out of bed in a post-coital bliss—even if he did say so himself—she smiled. “I hear they have a chocolate decadence cupcake that will literally kill you from happiness.”

  “Order something else then. You promised me sex later.”

  She frowned. It had no bite. “You are such a guy.”

  “And I wear my testosterone cloak proudly.”

  Smiling, they went inside and ordered two decadence cupcakes. Five minutes later her face was buried deep inside a large fudgy cupcake.

  Good God. She was enjoying her treat and practically purring.

  “This is better than sex.” She licked fudge off her bottom lip.

  “I’ll choose to ignore this second insult to my sexual prowess in the last ten minutes.” He couldn’t fault her for the sentiment. The cupcake was really good.

  Summer paused her gorging to look at him from beneath her lashes. “You have a way with words. Have you ever thought of becoming a writer? I’d read your books.”

  “Hasn’t everyone thought of writing the next great novel?”

  “True. Most don’t get beyond an idea.” She took another bite. Her eyes rolled up. He vowed to make her replicate that action later, in bed. “I think you should write a romance while Mrs. Kravitz sits on your lap. But you’d have to leave out outdated words and phrases like manroot and turgid member. The days of bodice rippers are over.”

  Jason ate the last of his cupcake and reached for the napkin. “You sound like an expert.”

  “I may have read one or two.”

  He watched with rapt fascination while she finished eating her cupcake. Summer could make anything sexy without trying. There wasn’t a calculating bone in her. If she knew she was killing him with her enjoyment of the treat, she hid it well. By the time she finished, he was turgid all over.

  Lifting her eyes, she seemed surprised by the heat in his. The surprise didn’t last long. The corners of her mouth twitched. “You were right back at Shady Meadows. I do want you badly. I ache for you. I want to lick frosting off your manroot.” She grinned. “I think I’m going to enjoy this friends with benefits arrangement.”

  Jason about fell off his chair.

  “I’ll meet you at that truck,” he said and stood. “I’m getting a cupcake to go.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, Summer conceded that although the cupcakes had been amazing, they were not better than sex. Licking fudgy frosting and cupcake bits off him had been more amazing. Thankfully, she’d had enough exercise afterwards to burn off at least some of the excess calories, she’d said. She didn’t need to worry, he’d countered. She was perfect.

  “If the women of Ann Arbor knew how good you were in bed, you’d never get any rest.” She ran a hand over his sticky skin. “They’d be lined up all the way to Saline.”

  “Cool.” He couldn’t move beyond an occasional involuntary twitch. She’d wiped him out. “You pass the word and organize the line and I’ll wait here.”

  She pulled out a chest hair.

  “Ouch.” He rubbed the spot. “Was that necessary?”

  “Yes, if it’ll keep you from getting too comfortable.” She pressed her mouth to the spot. “Mmmm, chocolate.” He’d need a shower to get it all off. “I don’t like the idea of you with other women.”
<
br />   He lifted his head and punched up the pillow beneath it so he could see her face better. “I thought this was all about casual sex? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  Casual sex wasn’t what he wanted from her. He wanted a long-term committed relationship. He wanted what his parents had before his mom died.

  The thought shocked him like a punch to the gut. Damn, if he wasn’t in love with the girly-girl.

  Summer swirled her fingers through the thin patch of hair. “I may have misspoken before. I don’t want to share, I don’t want to see other people, and I want more than just sex.” She kept her eyes down. “I sort of like you.”

  Oh hell yes.

  “I sort of like you, too, Summer.” He lifted her chin. “We both came from tough situations. It doesn’t mean we can’t act like adults and see where this goes.”

  Her eyes softened. “I’d like that.” She slid up and kissed him, her tongue teasing his. “So . . . are we going steady and can I call you my boyfriend?”

  He rolled her onto her back and planted a kiss between her breasts. “You can call me whatever you want as long as you do it naked.” He ran a hand up her thigh. She blocked it before he could get his fingers between her legs.

  “One last thing before I let you have your way with me,” she said. “It’s about the case.”

  He groaned and flopped over onto his back. “What an erection killer. Go ahead.”

  “I wasn’t entirely truthful before. I want to get into the Crosby house and you’re going to help me.”

  Chapter 29

  “How exactly do you intend to get into Mel’s house?” Jason asked. He pulled the sheet up to cover her. Summer being naked made a rational conversation impossible. “Breaking in is not okay, unless you know he’s keeping Mary locked in his attic.”

  “Would that work?”

  He made an exasperated sound. He could see the case imploding if it wasn’t handled right. “I’m sure the police have already been inside and looked around. What do you think you’ll find that they haven’t?”

  If he pushed back, maybe she’d forget the idea of breaking in. If Mel was a killer, he could harm her if he felt threatened. Jason wouldn’t take the risk.

  “The police have restrictions.” She twisted her hair into a loose knot. “There is probably a lot of evidence if we know how to look. I just want a peek.”

  “Can I talk you out of this?” If Summer was anything, she was stubborn. The set of her jaw answered his question.

  “Do you have a better plan because so far we have a lot of nothing?” She pulled the sheet higher up when he sent her a lecherous stare. Clearly he hadn’t blown her mind nearly enough to keep her thoughts on him. So he reached for her breast and she skittered backward and off the bed.

  “Nice try, Parker.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Get up, boyfriend, or I’m going without you.”

  The sight of her naked and walking to the bathroom was his favorite sight. Even when they were both old and wrinkly and sporting matching hip replacements, he’d never tire of seeing her without clothing.

  The thought took him aback. Could he and Summer have what it took to grow old together?

  He was ass over end in love with her. Not that dopey love that comes in that moment when a sexy woman lets you into her pants and is over once the orgasms stop flowing. Or the kind you feel for your first puppy. Nope, he was all in for the happily-ever-after shit, random fact blathering and all. And it had nothing to do with orgasms.

  Okay, mostly nothing.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  He panicked. After you have sex, talk about the mating habits of the praying mantis, and discuss how much food to give a pregnant cat, then what do you do for the next fifty years?

  “Deep breathing, Jason,” he mumbled as she wandered back out of the bathroom, buck naked. Oh, hell. If he was going to stumble through life with someone, she was perfect.

  “Have you seen my bra?” she said and dropped to her knees to look under the bed. Her breasts did a dance. He gawked.

  “I think it’s over by your jeans.” Leaning back on the pillow with his hands behind his head, he watched her do a reverse strip tease as one item of clothing at a time covered up her parts, much to his disappointment. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

  “Yes, usually when you’re pulling off my panties with your teeth.” She slid into her jeans. “Are you getting up so we can make a plan?”

  “We can’t do it sans clothes?” That earned him a frown. “Fine.” He climbed up and strolled past her, his cock still clinging to the remnants of his last erection. Or working up a new one. With his constant state of arousal, it was hard differentiating between the two.

  There was an involuntary flash of interest that she quickly squelched. Summer had a hell of a lot more control than he did.

  “I’ll take it that the orgasm I had seven minutes ago is my last as a free man. And with a woman,” he said. “I’ll be incarcerated by nightfall.”

  She hooked her bra and gave him the lord, give me patience look. “You need to get out of cop mode and think of this as a covert op into enemy territory.”

  “Where a drug lord shoots off my ass with an Uzi?” He didn’t want to admit it, but his sense of right and wrong was slipping. Her excitement was contagious. And since she was probably the future mother of his children, he figured why not get arrested with her, too?

  “I’m up.” Mrs. Kravitz was sleeping on his shirt. She purred as he reached down to gently eject her from his tee. She rolled on her back and yawned. He shook his head, scratched her belly, and straightened. “I’ll get another shirt.”

  Summer smiled. “You love her.”

  “Nope. I’m just trying to figure out how two females have so taken over my life that I can’t have all the sex that I want or wear my own damn shirt.”

  Laughing, Summer slid into his arms. One hand moved up to pull him down for a kiss and the other reached around to grab his butt. “Admit it. You love having us around.”

  “I admit nothing.”

  * * *

  A little while later, they had a plan in place and he was walking over to Mel’s house, a six-pack of beer linked by the plastic loop thing on one finger and a bag of chips in the other hand. This had better work, he thought, and prayed for Summer to execute the op safely. He didn’t want to break Mel in half.

  He’d smiled at Mel as he walked up to where the older man was watering a half-dead rhododendron with a limp hose. He saw Jason approached and smiled sadly.

  “Mary always kept up the plants.” Mel sighed. “I might have to hire someone to keep the flowers and plants watered so they’ll look good when she comes home.”

  If he’d killed his wife, he was a damn good actor. He seemed genuinely sad that she was gone. Then again, there had been that woman.

  Jason suspected that she might be a working girl as Summer had found a credit charge for five hundred dollars from that day for services rendered from a company aptly called Services Rendered. The address of the company was a post office box. Mel wasn’t that deep into mourning his wife.

  Jason held up the beer. “I thought you might need one of these. The last couple of weeks must have been tough.” He sat on the porch steps and stretched out his legs. Mel turned off the hose and joined him. “Here.”

  “It’s been hard.” Mel popped the can lid and took a long swig. Then another. His face turned pensive. “You just don’t realize how important someone is to you until they’re gone.”

  The simple sentence had several meanings. Did he really miss Mary? Her money? Did he know she was dead and was waiting for enough time to pass before trying to claim the insurance payout? Or was he as clueless as the rest of them to where she’d gone?

  Jason ripped open the cheddar and bacon chips. “Keep positive. There is no sign she’s come to harm.”

  He tipped the bag and Mel shoved a fistful of chips into his face. A few crumbs fell on his shirt.

  “She is a survivor. A
nd tough. If anyone can live through this, it’s my wife.”

  What? Jason glanced sideways. Pensive had changed into frustration. When Mel caught his glance, he quickly turned back into sad face. The man had more emotions in one short conversation than a bride left at the altar.

  It was the comment that tweaked his cop brain. What did he mean that she could survive this because she was tough? Did he know she wasn’t dead because the poison hadn’t worked? Or was he innocent? Had she actually fled?

  A movement from the side of the narrow porch caught his eye as Summer popped up from the bushes and hooked a leg over the rail. She flashed him a quick smile.

  Jason’s gut twisted. He turned back to Mel. “Did you know that Mrs. Cleary vacuums her house naked and with the blinds open?” Mel perked up and stared down the street in the opposite direction of Jason’s crazy girlfriend. “Yup. Every day. And she dances, too. Have you ever heard of a Brazilian wax . . . ?”

  * * *

  Summer almost lost it as Jason explained to their neighbor about how the waxing was accomplished and the sensual benefits afterward. Though some parts sounded made up and embellished, and the others wishful thinking, he kept Mel occupied enough for her to tiptoe behind them and get to the screen door.

  Thankfully, the door was old style without a latch. Jason had raised his voice and his enthusiasm high enough about bikini lines and keeping the hedges—his term—shaped up that when the door squeaked a little as she opened it, Mel didn’t notice. The man was enraptured.

  And she was in. Had Mel left the back door unlocked, she wouldn’t have had to do a daring dash through the front door.

  Summer took a big side step out of view and paused to get her bearings. The place was wrecked. Having been in the house several times over the last two years, she knew that not only had Mary kept the place neat, but the maid that Mel had hired was not a housecleaner. She was either a mistress, or a professional paid to keep him company for cash.

  Both ticked her off. Mel was a dog. His wife had been missing a couple of weeks and he couldn’t keep it in his pants out of respect for her for even that long?