The After Party (A Badboys Boxset)

by Karr, Kim

  Searching, searching, searching for what to say, I come up with nothing.

  Jasper circles my desk and places his strong hand on my back, and then leans in to kiss me. “I’ll call you when I can.”

  I look up at him with concern.

  “It will be fine,” he assures me.

  Words spoken without context or feeling behind them. They don’t make me, or him, feel any better.

  “Jake, can you call Max and tell him we’ll have to postpone the test drive?”

  “Yeah, sure. No problem.”

  Jasper gives me one final nod and then, just like that, he and Will are gone. The laces from his boots hit the metal staircase faster than I’ve ever heard them.

  I hope everything goes okay.

  As I stare out the window, the sky begins to cloud over and I sit in my seat just watching it for a long time.

  I feel on edge. Hot and testy. At odds with myself. I wish I could have gone with Jasper. Yet, I know I couldn’t. I hate that I can’t be with him in times like this. I need to clear my father’s name so I can hold my head high.

  After berating myself enough for now, I sip my cold coffee, and then finally try to read my blog post. After the fifth reread, I feel that it is ready to be sent to everyone else, so I compose my email. As I hit Send, I know the chances of getting everyone’s approval today are low.

  The rest of the morning drags on. No call from Detective Hill. No news from Jasper.

  I try to start a new post but end up corresponding on social media about my previous posts from the corporate account instead.

  “We’re heading out to grab some lunch. Want to come?” Jake asks.

  “No, thanks. I think I’m going to leave around four if I haven’t heard from Jasper. I have some things to do, if that’s okay?”

  Jakes shrugs. “It’s fine with me. And you can go ahead and post that article. Drew and I both approved it.”

  Uncertain, I try not to sound that way. “You sure it will be okay?”

  Drew chuckles. “If you want, I can email you my approval along with a note that says I told you to go ahead and post it.”

  I laugh but look at him seriously. “Would you, please?”

  Jogging back over to his desk, he sits down and lifts the lid to his laptop.

  For some crazy reason Jake looks at me like I’m from Mars, and I begin to wonder if I forgot to brush my hair this morning. “What is it?” I ask him.

  He shrugs. “I was wrong about you.”

  My brows rise. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re good for Jasper, that’s all. Tell anyone I said so, though, and I’ll deny it.”

  With my fingertips I pretend to zip my lips closed.

  That makes him laugh.

  Somehow I’m able to bite back the word I’m thinking—anomaly.

  “Done,” Drew says, and slams his lid down. “Oh, and Charlotte, I’m going to see Hank Harper after lunch about that parts contract we want from him.”

  “He’s in the office?”

  Drew nods.

  I guess he wouldn’t be near the press.

  “I’m taking off for the rest of the day after that. Tell Jasper to call me,” he says.

  “Okay,” I tell him. “Have a good weekend.”

  “I’ll be back,” Jake says.

  “Hey,” I call to him.

  He turns before stepping down the stairs.

  “How late will you be here? I thought about grabbing some of those documents I told you about and bringing them back.”

  Jake shrugs. “I don’t have any plans. I can hang out here. I’m sure Jasper won’t mind if I invite myself over for dinner.”

  Feeling a little excited over the prospect of making headway, I extend an offer that I probably shouldn’t without talking to Jasper first. “Good, I’ll stop at the grocery store after I run home to get the key for the storage unit.”

  He raises a brow. “You’re cooking?”

  “I am.”

  Jake takes a step down. “I’ll definitely be here. How are you getting to your place?”

  “The People Mover.”

  “I’ll be back before you leave, so you can take my car.”

  “No, I don’t want to be an imposition.”

  He holds up a hand. “Look, Charlotte, the goody-two-shoes thing wears on me a bit. Just say yes, will you? Besides, if you don’t, then I have to listen to Jasper’s shit about why I didn’t help you out.”

  “Okay. Yes.”

  He shakes his head.

  I smile at him.

  Saying no more, he disappears from my view.

  At one, I stretch my legs and pop downstairs to grab an apple and the few slices of cheese I brought yesterday but never ate. I don’t feel like running out for lunch.

  By two, I’m ready to crawl out of my own skin. I still haven’t heard from Jasper and Jake hasn’t returned. Searching the news, there is nothing about the abandoned car.

  With my fingers still hovering over the keyboard, I type HH Automotive in the search bar. What Drew had said about Hank earlier not wanting, or being unwilling, to supply the parts needed got me thinking about what he would have been providing for Laneworth.

  The search results yield many articles about the company’s growth and financial success. The company is privately held, so financials aren’t available, but I learn plenty about the company. Enough to understand it wouldn’t be to their strategic advantage to buy parts from another parts supplier in any way, shape, or form; even twenty years ago HH dominated the market.

  I try to picture those invoices, and every time I see them I swear I see the word widget written across them. I’d come across that box when I first went to the storage unit and hadn’t really paid it much attention.

  For the heck of it, I Google the word and get the following result: Widget is used in texts and speech, especially in the context of accounting, to indicate a hypothetical any-product.

  A hypothetical any-product?

  That doesn’t make sense.

  The sound of the front door has me jumping out of my seat. “Jasper!” I call, rushing toward the staircase.

  A body emerges up the winding metal but it isn’t Jasper, it’s Jake. “Sorry, it’s only me. You haven’t heard from him either, huh?”

  Disappointed, I shake my head.

  “I tried to call but he didn’t pick up.”

  Dropping back into my seat, I sigh. “I scoured the news, but there’s nothing yet.”

  Jake tosses his car keys on my desk. “Yeah, I did too. It’s coming, I’m sure.”

  Reaching for his keys, I give him a slight smile. “Thanks again.”

  Jake being Jake, he just shrugs it off. “I left it parked out front of the building. No reporters out there today.”

  “You found a spot?”

  He nods. “My lucky day.”

  I ignore his sarcasm. I’m starting to get used to it. “Hey, can I run something really crazy by you?”

  He raises a brow. “You sure you want to do that?”

  I sit back in my chair. “I’m serious.”

  He takes a seat and crosses his arms. “Go for it.”

  “What if one person is responsible for all of this—the explosion, the accident, Eve’s murder?”

  “As in the same person?”

  I nod. “Who are you thinking?”

  “Hank Harper.”

  Jake starts laughing. “You had me. Here I thought you solved a twenty-year-old crime.”

  “I’m serious. Think about it. Who gained the most from the plant explosion? Why doesn’t he want to help Jasper—perhaps because he doesn’t want Jasper to build the plant?”

  “That’s not true.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I just do. He’s always been supportive of Jasper.”

  “Yes. But business-wise it makes sense. It will hurt his business when Jasper brings other businesses back to Detroit. He’ll no longer have a monopoly.”

  Jake scratc
hes his head.

  “Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  “I wish I could say yes, but I can’t. Even if Jasper weren’t like a son to him, what would be his motive for killing Eve?”

  My lips purse. “I don’t know the answer to that.”

  “And besides, he’d never kill all those people on purpose.”

  I nod.

  “Charlotte, I know you want to clear your father, but I think you need to take this a little slower. Jasper looks up to Hank. I would keep that theory under wraps until you have a little more proof,” he says and turns around in his chair.

  He’s right, of course, but even though I try to dispel the idea, my mind is on those bank statements. Why was HH paying Laneworth for parts, even if they weren’t widgets? It doesn’t make sense. From everything I read about HH, they should have been able to procure the parts cheaper than Laneworth.

  At three fifty-one, I can’t take it anymore. I still haven’t heard from Jasper. Hopefully, he’ll be back by the time I am. “I’m going to head out now. I shouldn’t be too long,” I announce.

  Deep in concentration, Jake gives me a nod to let me know he heard me.

  Not a man of many words.

  As soon as I set foot on the sidewalk, I freeze.

  The car is right in front of me.

  It can be rather intimidating.

  Sure, I’ve heard the Storm described as visionary and cutting edge. In a class of its own. And yes, it’s super fast, super sleek, and a performance machine, but it’s also a manual transmission, and the stick shift is what scares me the most.

  The first car I learned to drive on was a stick shift, but it’s been a while and this isn’t my car. What if I stall in the middle of the road and someone hits me from behind? Worse, what if I ruin the transmission?

  I turn my phone to silent; I need all my attention on getting from point A to B to C with the car in one piece. I must have been crazy when I decided to go home, get the key for the storage unit that I keep taped under the coffeepot from the bed-and-breakfast, then go to the storage unit, then go to the grocery store, all before heading back to Jasper’s place.

  Nuts.

  Nuts.

  Nuts.

  Once in the driver’s seat I think back to watching Jasper do this.

  Car in neutral.

  Foot pressed on the clutch.

  And turn the ignition.

  The car purrs to life and I’m off to a good start. I put it in reverse and just like riding a bike, driving a stick comes back to me.

  Soon I’m shifting out of instinct.

  I got this.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  OVERDRIVE

  Jasper

  SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT.

  Streaking down the highway, I can hear the roar, hiss, and whistle of the engine. Normally music to my ears, it sounds off. I look over at Will. “Do you hear that fluttering?”

  From lids half-mast with exhaustion, he fully closes his eyes and listens. “Sounds like the headers might be leaking.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  “Are the RPMs within range?”

  A glance at the dashboard tells me what I already know. “No, they aren’t ticking all the way through.”

  “You might want to have Max look at it,” Will says.

  I nod. “I think while he’s at it he should recalculate the pipe lengths. What do you think?”

  “Maybe. Not sure if that is it or if someone messed with them when the car was at impound. But either way, taking another look will only make the Storm go faster.”

  That puts a smile on my face and I focus on the road ahead, and then try Charlotte’s cell again.

  Still no answer. This time I leave a message. “Hey, it’s me. It was a crazy day and I haven’t had cell service for past couple of hours. Call me.”

  Soon enough, it’s home, sweet home.

  It’s after four when I’m finally nearing my building. I crest the slope into the garage like a skateboarder taking flight over a mondo ramp.

  It’s been one long fucking day.

  All I want to do is see Charlotte and not leave my apartment for the entire weekend. I don’t want to have to submit to police searches because a dead body was found in the abandoned car near where my mother lives. I don’t want to wait outside for hours while my mother cries on my shoulder that Hank is going to break up with her if word gets out about who she is. I don’t want to have to explain to her that she’s his tenant, nothing more, if asked.

  And for fuck’s sake, I don’t want to be trapped in the limits of Bloomfield Township unable to leave until the crime scene investigation is complete, with no fucking cellphone reception to boot, like I have most of the day.

  I give Charlotte another ring.

  “Did she pick up yet?” Will asks.

  I shake my head no. “Maybe she has her earphones in.”

  Looking exhausted, he nods. “Probably. Knowing Drew and Jake, they’re jamming to happy-hour music by now.”

  Screeching into my spot, I whip my door open and stretch my back. I’ve been in the car way too long.

  Will does the same. “I’m heading home. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Got plans with Whitney?”

  There’s a hint of a grin there. “Yeah, I do.”

  “What are you doing?”

  He shrugs. He’s the only one out of the four of us who doesn’t kiss and tell. That is going to have to change. I’ll have to work on that—later.

  Pressing my key fob, I pause for a second and lean over the top of the car and keep it simple. “Have fun. And, Will.”

  He looks over at me.

  “Thanks again. I really appreciate you being there with me today. You stopped me from losing my shit more times than I can count.”

  The beep of his key fob unlocks his car. “You’d do the same for me.”

  I would.

  As I start to walk down the tunnel, I try Charlotte one more time. Still no answer. I hasten my steps and hustle to the elevator. Minutes later I’m at my door and then finally inside. Will was right. Music is blaring from up above. Some Stones. And I’m okay with that.

  Grabbing a beer, I open it, take a sip, and then head toward the stairs to tell my girl the workday is officially over. Before I make it to the foot of the staircase, I hear a loud stomping noise out in the hall.

  It sounds like a herd of cattle.

  One foot on the step and I can hear it getting closer.

  Wham! All of sudden the door bursts open and four dark blue uniforms pound across the hardwood floor, guns drawn. The Detroit Police Department has arrived.

  For me?

  It has to be.

  My throat tightens, forcing me to swallow and take deep breaths.

  The music stops.

  The giant space is dead silent.

  Then Detective Hill enters the room.

  Our stares collide.

  “Jasper Storm, you are under arrest.”

  Shock isn’t even the word to describe what I’m feeling. “For what?”

  Blue beady eyes stare at me. “The murders of Eve Hepburn and Tory Worth.”

  I set my beer down on one of the steps. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tory Worth was the victim identified today in Eve Hepburn’s car, and both murders have been linked to you.”

  Tory is dead?

  Why?

  That storm in my chest that I haven’t felt for over a week starts to rage within me, wild and untamed.

  Ravaging.

  Devastating.

  And not just for me—for Charlotte, too.

  What does this mean for Charlotte? Will it bring her mother back to town? How will she handle seeing her?

  Jake is standing behind me on the stairs and I can hear his heavy breathing.

  Feeling sick, really sick, I look the detective straight in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere until I call my lawyer.”

  Cuffs in hand, the detective steps toward me
. “You’ll get your call from the station.”

  I twist to look at Jake. “Keep Charlotte upstairs. I don’t want her to see this.”

  “She’s not here. She went home sometime before four to grab some things.”

  The wind is gone from my lungs, and my gut clenches to think she might walk in here and see me like this. “You have to find her and keep her away from here.”

  “I will. Let’s get you out of this first.”

  “No, you have to find her before she walks in on this.”

  “I don’t think I can leave,” he says.

  I look in front of me. The cops. The detective. The wall they are forming that is meant to stop me and anyone else from leaving.

  For an instant I can feel what he must have felt. My father. Helpless. Unable to do anything as flames leaped up the walls all around him and then consumed him. Did he picture my mother and me in his last moments? I’m sure he did. I am not dying, but I am no longer in charge of my own fate. My mind is a jumbled mess. My legs are trembling. I can’t think straight.

  Both Eve and Tory are dead.

  Why?

  Charlotte isn’t answering her phone.

  Why?

  I need to get to Charlotte and make sure she’s okay. I can’t stand here and let the fire render me useless.

  Detective Hill is right in front of me now.

  I feel trapped.

  I blink a few times and wipe the sweat from my brow.

  “Make this easy, Storm. Turn around and we can walk out of here without any commotion.”

  Walk out. Yes, I can walk out. He couldn’t, though. My father . . . he couldn’t. And yet I hated him for dying. Hated him all these years.

  “Storm!” the detective shouts, holding up his arrest warrant.

  “I didn’t do it!” I shout back, wanting to douse the flames I can’t see through.

  “Jasper,” Jake whispers. “Go with him. You have to, man.”

  Suddenly the flames disappear and I’m back in my loft with the police surrounding me, and I’m being accused of something I didn’t do.