“They, Piper, not me. But if his murder leads me back to you, I can’t let it go. Not this time.” He brushed past her and out the door. If Piper had connections to this burglary, and ultimately Christopher Baxter’s death, he wouldn’t be played. Luke had wised up since his rookie days undercover with the theft unit. A pretty face wasn’t always an innocent face.
Piper had proved that.
The moment he’d laid eyes on her, when she was eighteen and he was only twenty-one, a fierce need to protect her gripped him. But he’d always been a protector—a fixer, like Granddad—whether it was a stray cat, a broken bird or a hungry dog. Piper had been broken, wounded—a stray—when they met inside that pool hall. Turned out the one thing Luke should have protected, he’d left vulnerable.
His heart.
Eric Hale, Luke’s partner, stood with a cup of coffee in his hand. “You were in there awhile. Did she wake up?”
Eric had given Luke a few minutes to see Mama Jean. The woman had always cared about him. He’d checked in on her over the years, and she’d promised never to tell Piper. Looked as if she’d kept up her end of the bargain.
“No. Her granddaughter showed up. I asked her a few questions.” Eric had no idea about his connection to Piper, and until he could figure out what to say about her, he’d like to leave it that way.
“She offer anything useful?” Eric finished his coffee, trashed it, then fell into step with Luke as he zipped up his black leather jacket.
“Useful? No.”
“You believe her?”
That was the question. Could he trust her again? Time would tell. “Let’s throw the flashlight on Baxter’s history and see if it lands on her. I’m not ruling her out.”
Eric chuckled. “You really are a hardnose.”
He had Piper to thank for that.
“Must want that sergeant’s promotion bad, huh?”
Luke had worked tirelessly to be where he was. Paid penance every day for his prior mistakes. He wanted this promotion. Needed it. Piper wasn’t going to get in the way this time, but his gut screamed everything about this case would track back to her. And it terrified him because the instinct to defend and shelter her had resurfaced the second she’d marched into Mama Jean’s room. It’d been difficult to keep a tough exterior, but then, he had plenty of old hurts to fuel him.
Luke would do his duty to serve and protect and nothing more. He wouldn’t allow Piper to rob him of his heart again. No getting tangled up with emotions. But as he resolved the issue, a sliver of doubt wiggled like a splinter in his chest.
* * *
“Did I see who I thought I saw?” Harmony asked as she and Piper breezed through the glass entrance doors. The wind picked up Harmony’s shiny blond hair, blowing it in her face.
“I think I should stay the night in the waiting room,” Piper said, ignoring the question.
“Mama Jean is gonna be out cold all night. You need some rest. Come back early. Fresh.”
Harm was right. But there was no way Piper was going to sleep well. Her nerves tingled on edge already, but something else wafted in on the night’s current. She paused and scanned the parking lot. Only a few lit posts dotted the area. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention.
“What’s the matter with you, Pipe?” Harmony paused and followed Piper’s gaze. “You looking for Luke?”
Piper put her arm out to block Harmony. “Something’s off.”
“What do you mean? What did he say to you? Was something stolen?” She removed Piper’s arm from across her middle.
“He’s working homicide now. Investigating Christopher Baxter’s murder.”
Harmony rifled through her purse and plucked her keys. “He know anything?”
“I don’t know.” Piper swallowed; a knot swelled in her abdomen. “I guess I’m just freaking out.”
“So what did he say?”
Slowly, Piper started toward her car, Harmony at her side. “Not much, and I doubt he’d offer any additional information. He thinks I’m involved. Of course.”
“That’s ridiculous and he knows it.” She pointed across the lot. “I’m over there. See you at the house.”
“Okay. Be careful.” Piper watched as Harmony hurried to her car, unlocked the doors and climbed in. When she safely drove away, Piper strode toward her own car. Could Chaz have reemerged and hurt Mama Jean? He was that evil.
Piper pressed the fob on her key ring to unlock the doors to her car. She rounded the hood to the driver’s door.
A shadow leaped from the side of the car, throwing Piper off guard, her bag falling to the ground.
Something heavy struck her thigh, sending a blinding pain up her side, clear to her teeth. She stumbled backward, tripping over the concrete parking bumper, and landed on her backside.
The attacker, dressed in a dark hoodie, mask and gloves, lunged forward. She jumped to her feet, landing a front kick to his chest.
Grunting, he faltered and dropped his weapon.
The tire iron clattered against the asphalt.
Piper gasped. Same weapon used to assault Ellen Strosbergen—the woman nearly killed in that last burglary Piper had been a part of a decade ago.
Her assailant hunkered down and came at her full force, but she dodged and kicked him into the side of the car. He bounced off the back door with a thud, leaving a dent, then grabbed the tire iron and hightailed it through a line of parked cars.
Where was the parking security?
Piper gave chase, weaving through the vehicles. A dark van squealed into the lot, and the shadowy figure hurtled in before speeding away. She rubbed her thigh and fisted her hands to control the shaking. Hobbling back to her car, she scrambled in and locked the doors, heart beating out of her chest.
What to do? Find Luke? She peeled out of the lot. Would he even believe her? No. He wouldn’t. She was on her own.
* * *
Luke ducked under the crime-scene tape and slipped a pair of blue bootees over his shoes while studying the mechanic shop. Eric did the same. So much for getting a solid night’s sleep. Crime never rested, and he wouldn’t have been able to anyway. Piper was back and mixed up in this somehow. A train sounded in the distance. Horns blared and tires squealed over Poplar Avenue, piercing through the chilled night.
A uniform filled him and Eric in on the scene at hand. “Girlfriend said he didn’t come to bed. Found the vic in the bay. His face is pretty mangled.”
Luke followed the officer into the bay, the smell of oil and exhaust wrinkling his nose. A Caucasian male, early thirties, lay in a pool of blood, a stained tire iron beside him. That would definitely rough up a face. Brought back memories of poor Ellen Strosbergen.
It might have been used to bloody the vic’s face. But from what Luke could tell, it wasn’t the cause of death. The man’s head was lying at an odd angle.
“Neck broke?” Eric asked.
“Pretty sure. I’m interested to know which came first, the bludgeoning to the face and head or the snapped neck. Medical examiner on his way?” Luke browsed the area. Two cars raised on jacks, a few tires lying around. Tools in disarray, but not due to someone tossing the place—just seemed business as usual. A few greasy rags dotted the grimy concrete floor.
“Yeah. Crime-scene unit, too,” the officer said.
“Name?”
“Tyson Baroni. Thirty-four. Owns the shop. We called his next of kin. Has a brother that lives in Arlington.”
Tyson Baroni. He was hardly recognizable. Luke’s stomach soured, and he chomped on the inside of his lip. Squatting, he carefully retrieved Baroni’s wallet. A card fell out.
He read the name scrawled across the middle.
God, why now? I’m finally getting beyond it after all this time.
“Whose card is tha
t, Ransom?” Eric asked.
“Piper Kennedy’s. Business card for her dojo in Jackson.”
“The granddaughter from the hospital?” Eric’s eyes held questions.
“Yep.” Piper claimed she wasn’t involved, that she was clean. “I want to talk to the coroner and the girlfriend. Rule her out.” He reached into his jacket pocket and popped two antacids. With skilled martial-arts training, Piper was more than capable of snapping a neck. Was the girlfriend? Dread churned like a frosty tornado.
“What do you think she had in common with him?” Eric stared at the body, squinting.
Everything. “Ten years ago, Baroni ran with Chaz Michaels. A low-life dirtbag who got his jollies burglarizing the elderly who lived in wealthy neighborhoods. He was the wheels.”
“You think he had something to do with the robbery-homicide earlier? How does that link with the granddaughter?”
Luke stretched his neck from one side to the other. “Piper Kennedy was Chaz Michaels’s girlfriend for a while.” And much more. “She and Baroni were friends.”
Eric stroked his thumb across his lower lip. “So, you like Baroni for the robbery and think the Kennedy chick retaliated for knocking her grandmother around?”
Possibly. Whoever was in Mama Jean’s basement had a mission. The question was: Did they accomplish it? Did they find what they were after? And if not, what next?
“Let’s interview the girlfriend, then pay Piper a visit when sun’s up and ask.” Luke had hoped he wouldn’t have to see Piper again—at least not under these circumstances. Where she was concerned, he had a hard time discerning truth.
God, give me the strength to see clearly.
TWO
“It has to be Chaz. A tire iron? Interesting choice of weapon.” Piper gnawed her thumbnail. Had she made the right decision not calling Luke or the police in general? Her thigh throbbed.
Harmony laid a hand on Piper’s shoulder. “No way. Why now? It makes no sense.”
“He’s come to get even. He has to believe I knew Luke was undercover the whole time.” Which she hadn’t. By the time she found out, she was already in love with Luke. “He blames me for Sly getting caught and going to prison for assaulting Ellen Strosbergen. Or he thinks I took something from the house.”
“Did you?”
“What do you think?” Piper paced the kitchen floor. “I should call the police.”
Harmony sighed. “You said yourself Luke suspects you. Will he believe your story?”
“Probably not.” She had no one to blame but herself for that. She had no concrete evidence that she had even been attacked. Luke might accuse her of making the whole thing up to throw suspicion off her. Call her a liar. Again.
No way was it random. Not after the attack with a tire iron.
Harmony took Piper’s cold cup of tea to the sink and dumped it. “Maybe you should come with me to the Realtors’ conference. Get out of Dodge.”
“And leave Mama Jean? No way. I have to find out who this is.” With or without Luke’s help. Piper rubbed her chilled arm. “Because if Mama Jean saw the attacker, he might come back to finish off what he started. Could be why he came after me tonight—he might think she told me who it was.” Confusion twisted in her chest.
Harmony sank in a kitchen chair. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. But for tonight, I think it’s best if I sleep in your master bedroom. You’ll be safer upstairs. If he comes back, I want to be downstairs where I can hear.”
“You’re scaring me, Pipe.”
“I’m trying to protect you.” Piper was scared, too. And she had no idea what to do, but maybe by morning she’d have a clue. It was after midnight now.
Harmony grabbed Piper’s hand. “I’ll go upstairs. But I don’t suspect either of us will be sleeping.”
There was truth to that. Piper followed Harmony to the master bedroom. “Why do you need this house? It’s huge.”
Harmony switched on the light. “It’s my way of hoping for a family.”
A dream they both shared. But Piper had relationship paralysis. The few men she’d dated, she’d measured against Luke. Every single one came up short.
Hairs prickled the back of Piper’s neck again, as if a presence was in the house. Or outside. Watching. She switched off the light.
“Hey—!”
“Shhh.” Piper peeked out the window that overlooked the backyard and beyond into the woods. “Where does that lead?”
“A creek and then I don’t know. I’ve never taken a jaunt.” Harmony closed the blinds and then flipped on the lamp. “I think we’re safe. And if we aren’t, I’m counting on you being able to take down a grown man.”
Piper could. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t frightened.
Harmony left the room, and Piper hurried and unpacked then threw on a ratty pair of gray sweats and a Shotokan T-shirt with the tiger emblem on the front pocket. She’d been studying Shotokan karate since she was eighteen. Since Luke kicked her out of his life with one word. Run.
At twenty-nine, she’d worked hard and made it to the position of Shihan-Dai—fourth-degree black belt. She was still working toward professor of the art. But no amount of martial arts could fight off the past that seemed to be colliding with her present, choking her.
Piper slid into bed at 12:52 a.m. and stared at the clock until her eyes grew too heavy to hold open.
A creak pulled her from sleep.
Her eyes shot open as a cloth smothered her face.
A sickly sweet smell and taste filled her nose and mouth. She reached for the bulky hand and broke free. She gulped fresh air, but her head spun, and nausea swept over her.
He came at her again.
Couldn’t. Think. Clearly.
Piper punched him in the sternum, cutting off his air supply, and bounded out of bed, but whatever she’d inhaled had weakened her. Grabbing the lamp, she chucked it at him. It crashed into the wall behind the headboard. Barreling forward, the attacker tackled her to the floor near the bathroom. She reached up and grabbed his mask, pulling it from his face.
Not Chaz.
Drawing her knee up, she made contact with his groin, garnering a wail from him and giving her time to wiggle free.
Her head was still fuzzy and pounding, but she scrambled for the door. Needed a weapon. Her phone.
“Piper!” Harmony yelled.
The assailant turned toward the sound of Harmony’s voice and bolted. Piper raced across the bedroom, but she was off balance, shaky.
A door slammed.
Harmony stood midway on the stairs, a bat in hand. “What’s happening?”
Piper ran to the back door and turned the locks, panting. “It wasn’t Chaz.”
“Who wasn’t Chaz?”
“A man. Here. I saw his face.” Piper’s pulse hammered, dizziness flaring. “He put something over my mouth.” The rag. She rushed to the bedroom and retrieved it.
Harmony stood at the threshold. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. Some kind of drug. Glad I wasn’t sound asleep.” Piper bent at the waist, her mouth watering. “Get me a plastic bag for this. I’m gonna be sick.” She scurried to the bathroom.
Harmony returned with the bag as Piper flushed the toilet. She dropped the rag inside the gallon-sized Ziploc.
Piper leaned against the wall, eyes burning. It wasn’t Chaz. But whoever came after her at the hospital wasn’t working alone. Someone drove the van. “Chaz could have sent someone to kidnap me.” He could be outside right now, waiting. Her stomach churned.
“Kidnap! Why?” Harmony paced the bathroom floor.
“Why else drug me?”
“If it was the same guy from the hospital, maybe he wised up and knew he couldn’t take you without evening
the playing field.” She froze. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
Piper rinsed her mouth, her vision clearing and nausea subsiding. A few seconds longer and she’d have been out cold. “No. You’re right.”
“I’m not going to that conference, Piper. I can’t leave you.”
Piper’s temple throbbed. “Now more than ever, you need to. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
Harmony’s eyes pooled with tears. “What about you? Will you go to the police now?”
Piper wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear. Whoever was after her wasn’t going to stop.
* * *
Piper sat on Harmony’s bed as she scrambled around in a frenzy trying to pack. It was almost 6:00 a.m. “I have to call Luke. He may not believe me, but...”
“I understand.” Harmony rifled through drawers, tossing random things in the suitcase. “You sure you don’t want me to stay?”
Piper folded what she’d dumped inside. “I’m sure.”
Harmony dug in a top drawer, undergarments falling out. “I don’t even know what I packed. I can’t think straight. This is a bad idea.” Her hands shook as she clawed through the items.
Piper placed her hand over Harmony’s. She had to be strong for her. “Let me. What do you need?”
“A scarf. I don’t even know. Black. Gray. Who cares?” Harmony collapsed on her bed, hands over her face. “I can’t go to a conference and concentrate when I know bad stuff is going down here.”
Piper calmly combed through the scarves and undergarments. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re out of this mess.” She paused. Wait. Something caught her eye, buried under the scarves. “Harmony, this is the guy! The guy in the house!”
Harmony’s face paled, and she grabbed the photos. “Are...are you sure?” She stared at them. “I should’ve burned these.”
“I’m positive. Who is this? Why are you in a photo with him?”
Harmony’s lip quivered, and then her eyes widened. “Oh no.”
“What?” Piper demanded.
Fatal Reunion Page 2