by Tanya Agler
Mike Harrison strode out of the repair shop. Way back in high school, he was the last person she’d expected to become a cop. After all, they’d spent quite a few Friday nights toilet papering yards. Still, his shoulders, husky and broad, filled his navy uniform well. His cropped hair was slightly darker, almost a dirty blond now. Those chocolate-brown eyes of his held more responsibility, more authority.
“Georgie.” He approached, his tone lacking the laughing cadence of the past. “Have you worked here long enough to determine what’s missing?”
“Of course.” She turned and patted Mr. Reedy’s arm. “You wait right here. I’ll be back.”
“Will you be okay with Georgie’s dog?” Mike’s tone was as cautious as his gaze.
Mr. Reedy yanked at the leash. “Beau’s mine.”
Mike glanced at Beau, then at her.
Georgie shrugged. “I kill houseplants.”
“Follow me.”
Her stomach roiled at entering the place someone had robbed earlier. The thieves wouldn’t take her peace of mind. She wouldn’t let them. Lifting her chin, she went inside and cleared her throat. “Is it okay to touch everything again?”
“Sure. No usable prints on the windows, knobs or any other surface. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was an inside job.”
All the oxygen escaped her lungs. Had he just accused her of breaking into Max’s Auto Repair? Max was the closest person she had to a father. She popped her hands onto her hips. “Is that your professional opinion?”
“It wasn’t directed at you. Any new hires besides you? I’m assuming the Crowes still work here.”
“No one else. And Travis and Heidi love this place. Surely you know them. Everyone does.” She waited until he nodded.
“Older couple. He’s tall and skinny? She’s short and round?” Hand gestures accompanied the descriptions.
“You make them sound like Jack Sprat and his wife.” Georgie chuckled. “It’s just me and them.” If Max was like a father, they were her honorary aunt and uncle. “They just celebrated their fortieth wedding anniversary. She’s the office manager while Travis is about the best diesel mechanic I’ve ever met. Considering how many places I’ve worked, that’s saying something.”
She’d lost count of the number of cities and towns where she’d made pit stops. Boston, Atlanta and Seattle were a few of the places she’d called home for a brief time, with her current address technically being her apartment in Nashville. Until Kevin Doherty proposed, she hadn’t wanted to settle down. After Kevin left, she especially didn’t want to settle down.
“When are they supposed to get here?” Mike asked.
“Any minute now. I arrived early to read the operation manual for Max’s diagnostic scanner. It’s an older model, almost a relic compared to the newer ones.”
“Since Travis is familiar with the equipment and customers, why didn’t Max leave him in charge?”
Really?
He held up his hands, so her patented glare must have worked. “I hadn’t heard about Max leaving or your return. They’ve worked here forever, and it’s a logical question.”
Okay, he had a point. Besides, she’d asked Max the same question. “They like to travel and don’t want the responsibility.” She hesitated. “Anyway, Max wanted to give me a shot at buying him out.”
“Why now? Why didn’t you come back to Hollydale a year ago or a year from now?”
Another long pause filled the air, laden with tension. “Last Friday my mother had a stent procedure in Asheville. I promised I’d stay with her while she recovered. When I called Max to see if he had an opening, he went one further.” She paused. While her mother’s condition was out in the open, Max’s wasn’t. A stickler for honesty, she chose her words with caution. “When I asked to rejoin his staff, he said it was about time he visited his sister in Florida. And this would be a trial run so I could decide if I wanted to buy the business or not. I started back yesterday.”
“What are you keeping from me?”
He knew. He could always tell when she held something back. “Why do you ask?”
“Your face is ashen.”
“It’s been quite a morning.” Her shaky smile wasn’t convincing him or herself, but it was the best she could manage. Mike was here about the burglary, not to jump-start their friendship colder than a junkyard battery. She glanced around and headed for the door marked Closet.
“Georgie, I’m not worried about cleaning supplies and toilet paper.”
“That’s Max’s idea of a joke.” She pulled keys out of her pocket and jingled them. “This is his private office. Despite the closeness of this town, not many people know that.”
She unlocked the door, and her jaw dropped. Someone knew this was Max’s office. Pink and yellow invoices lay scattered over the floor like confetti. The file cabinet’s metal drawers hung open, with manila folders in disarray. Exhaling, she collapsed onto the floor. It would take her and Heidi all morning to clean up this mess.
Mike picked up an invoice and studied it. “Doesn’t Max believe in computers?”
Shrugging, she pulled herself together. “Different mechanics have different methods of remembering customers.” The blood drained out of her face. “Max’s folder.”
She rifled through the filing cabinet. The familiar yellow binder was nowhere in sight. Neither were his comic books. Thank goodness he’d taken those with him. Her legs wobbled with the rubbery consistency of a Michelin. Max had taken his collection, hadn’t he?
“Can I make a phone call?”
Mike laughed. “I usually mention phone calls after a Miranda warning.” Her face must have given him pause, and he handed her his phone. “Who are you calling and why?”
“Max.” She gulped, and her shoulders slumped.
“Use the speaker function.”
She pressed oh-so-familiar numbers on the screen. Three rings, four, five. Finally someone answered.
“Hello, Max?”
“Georgie? Why did the number for the sheriff’s office pop up on my screen?” Max’s scraggly deep voice, fresh from slumber, made her stomach roil worse than the break-in. She refused to meet Mike’s gaze. This was hard enough without looking at him.
“You took your comic books with you to Florida, right?” She crossed her fingers for luck. Something had to go her way today.
“No. I left them at the shop. It’s got a security system. Didn’t see the need in paying for one for my home when they charge me enough to guard my shop.” A loud yawn came over the line. “What’s wrong?”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Waking him up only to deliver bad news upon bad news was harder than she’d expected. That growing dread in her throat became downright metallic.
“This is Officer Michael Harrison.” Mike saved her from having to speak. “I’m investigating a reported burglary at your repair shop.”
“Georgie? Are you okay?” Alarm came out of Max’s voice, and she loved him for it. “Are Travis and Heidi there? Are they safe?”
“No one was here when the burglary happened.”
“That’s good, very good.” Max cleared his throat. “I’ll be back in twelve to fourteen hours.”
“No!” Georgie raised her voice, and Mike’s eyes narrowed. “You told me you haven’t seen your sister in years. Surely she wants to introduce you to her friends and other people.”
If only Max would read between the lines. Scans of a tumor suspected of being malignant were more important than comic books. His life was worth way more. His sister had agreed, insisting Max consult with her oncologist in Florida rather than one closer to home.
“Max, what type of comic books are we talking about?” Mike held up his hand before she could start talking again.
“Golden Age, mint condition, all in protective covers.”
Mike rubbed his ha
nd over his chin and whistled. “Have you had them appraised?”
“Uh...yeah. Five years ago. They were worth thirty-five thousand dollars.”
“Let the police investigate.” Georgie’s words tumbled out.
Comic books could be replaced. Max couldn’t. Sometimes he was too rash for his own good. A Vietnam vet and one tough customer, he wouldn’t take any of this lying down. Eleven years ago she’d lost her best friend, Mike. Friday her mother had undergone serious surgery. She couldn’t lose her mentor. “Stay in Florida. You can’t do anything here.”
Max’s sigh ripped through her. “I should stay. Would I be able to help or would I get in the way, Officer Harrison?”
“We’ll investigate the best we can.” Mike met her gaze. As if he read her concern, he held out his palms and his eyes widened. “I can’t decide for him.”
She threw him a grateful smile. “Please, Max. Give the police a little time.”
“The doctor my sister recommended canceled and rescheduled my appointment for a week from today.”
Some good news at last. If the doctor postponed Max’s scans, Max’s case might not be that urgent. He might make a full recovery and maybe even come back to Hollydale. She’d grab that hope and run with it.
“If the police solve the case in the meantime, you’d lose that appointment and valuable days with it. I’ve got everything under control. I’ll call you tonight with the latest update.” She said goodbye and ended the call.
Mike crossed his arms and leveled a stern gaze. “I was about to ask Max for more information.”
She stood, stretched and shook her head. “Let the poor man have a cup of coffee first. Please finish up so Heidi and I can open sometime today.” Weighing her options made her pause. There was a lot for her to get her head around. “And Mr. Reedy will be frozen if we dawdle much longer.”
“The police department will use all its resources to solve this and help Mr. O’Hara.” He glanced out the window. “And I might have a solution to the other part of the puzzle. Excuse me for a minute.”
He strode outside. This Mike spoke and acted with authority, unlike the gawky kid she’d known years ago. She took stock of the messy reception area. Burglaries, surgeries and Michael Harrison. She hadn’t changed her mind one bit.
Of the three, Mike was the one who’d keep her awake at night.
CHAPTER TWO
THE THEFT OF the comic books bumped this case up to a high priority. Mike shook his head. Thirty-five thousand dollars? Who kept thirty-five thousand dollars’ worth of comic books at a car repair shop? Between the upcoming tourist season and the B&Es, spending time with Rachel would be a luxury. One more quick look around Max’s Auto Repair and he’d go back to the station and file his report.
Each of the four patrol teams, one short of the normal five covering Hollydale, would comb through his written findings for anything he might have missed. In no time they’d find the person, or persons, responsible.
He studied the reception area, chaos at work. Yet the flat-screen plasma television sat on an end table, not damaged in the least. Walking over to the reception, he spotted a desktop computer. The thief who broke into Carter’s Sporting Goods had picked the manager’s office clean of all the petty cash and electronic devices. A real professional job with surfaces wiped down. Same as the previous B&Es.
The MO was different here. It was almost as if two different burglars had struck on the same night.
He pulled open a drawer. A Kindle lay nestled snug above a black laptop. Instead of answers, more and more questions kept popping up. The sweet scent of lemons filled him. A shadow crossed over his shoulder. He didn’t have to look back. Georgie smelled the same now as she had in high school.
“Why did the burglar take the comic books and Max’s company folder but not Heidi’s Kindle or laptop?” Georgie asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“There’s another question I’d like answered first. Did the security company call you to report the break-in? They sure didn’t call the station.”
Georgie moved away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Despair flickered behind those green eyes. The sense she wasn’t telling him everything was strong. Funny, he hadn’t seen her in years, yet he already remembered her signals.
“Are you hiding something?”
She leaned against the nearby wall and shrugged. “My mother called at the end of the day as I was collecting the day’s receipts.”
“What does your mother have to do with the security system?”
Her gaze met his. A slight pink flush came over her cheeks.
Not good. Mike closed the drawer and gritted his teeth.
Too often in the past he’d heard stories about Mrs. Bennett. How proper young ladies never went out of the house without looking their best, including a demure smile. How young ladies didn’t have oil and grease under their fingernails. How jeans should never grace the closet of a Southern lady, especially those attending cotillion.
“I deposited yesterday’s money in the bank.” She folded her arms, her fists visible. Everything about her demeanor screamed defense. “But I can’t remember setting the alarm, which means I didn’t. I’m not usually the last mechanic out for the night.”
He exhaled slowly and jotted notes on his pad. “No alarm, then. What about video surveillance?”
Georgie shook her head and pointed to the corner. “That’s a fake camera so customers will think there’s extra security.”
Great, just great. A working video camera might have had a time stamp. That would have given him some idea if the burglar struck here before or after Carter’s. Or if different perps had struck at the same time.
“So thousands of dollars of comic books plus a proprietary folder are missing and there was little security at the time of the break-in. Earlier you mentioned Max wanted you to buy him out. Did he quote you a certain amount?”
Georgie blinked. “Mr. Reedy’s probably wondering where we are.”
“I sent him and Beau across the street to the Holly Days Diner for coffee. Why don’t you want Max coming back?”
Conflict warred on her pretty face. She let out a deep breath and looked left and right, as if making sure no one was around.
“This stays in this room. Max had a colonoscopy last month. They found something. His sister, who lives in Florida, pulled through thyroid cancer and insisted her big brother consult her oncologist and not one around here. They’ve always been close, and he wanted to make her happy.” She shook her head and sighed. “I shouldn’t even have told you that much.”
“How much does he want for the repair shop?”
Georgie winced. Maybe his voice did come out brisk and blunt. This was an official police investigation, not one of Rachel’s tea parties with her stuffed animals. Still, part of him sought redemption from what he’d done to hurt the feelings of his former best friend all those years ago. The other part of him knew Georgie was the one who could restore the Thunderbird. Arresting her would make both those possibilities disappear.
“Thirty-five thousand, but...”
He held up his hand. As much as he hated to ask the next question, the sheriff and the state required it of him. “Where were you last night until this morning?”
“Wh-what?” The question sputtered out, and that doe-eyed gaze flew to his, shock registering in its depths. Mike repeated his question.
The shock in her eyes turned to pure anger. “I was at home, asleep.”
“Can anyone verify that?”
Extending her hands in front of her, she cracked her knuckles. It was his turn to wince. Without a doubt she remembered how much that sound had grated on his last nerve.
“My mother.” Pure satisfaction lightened her features.
He drew in a deep breath. “Georgie, I’ve always appreciated how honest and open you are, but now
is not the time for equivocating.”
“Your eyes, your tone, your little tic at the side of your eye.” Taking a step back while facing him, she gasped. “You think I have something to do with this.”
While Georgie Bennett was as likely a criminal as his own mother, who didn’t even take the tags off her mattresses and pillows for fear the pillow police would come after her, a thorough investigation required looking at Georgie as a suspect. The fact she called this in was a point in her favor.
“I have to follow up on every possibility. You just admitted motive, and you yourself acknowledged you were the last to leave and didn’t turn on the security system.”
“You genuinely believe I’m a common thief?” Spittle escaped from between her clenched teeth and landed on his hand.
“I’ll keep you informed of any progress on the B&Es, but don’t leave town.”
If the same perps didn’t commit both burglaries, that left him with a short suspect list for the Max’s Auto Repair B&E, with one name at the top in big, bold letters.
Georgie.
* * *
GEORGIE HELD UP the disposable cup from the diner while Mike walked Mr. Reedy to the bench under the lone tree shading the front entrance to Max’s. So her former best friend now believed she was capable of theft, yet he’d made sure she had her morning coffee, a habit since their senior year. She couldn’t figure him out. But once she moved on, she’d never have to lay eyes on the infuriating Mike Harrison again.
A black Ford F-150 pulled in to the parking lot. Before the engine stopped, Heidi Crowe, holding a familiar Tupperware container, disembarked from the passenger’s side.
“Bless your heart.” Heidi’s Southern twang was as familiar as corn bread dunked in milk. “Tell me you didn’t walk in on the robbery.”
That might have made life easier.
Georgie shrugged and shook her head. “No one was here when I arrived. Mr. Reedy pulled up when I called the police.” She pointed toward Mike’s squad car, where Mr. Reedy and Mike were discussing something.
“Oh, darlin’, have one of my peach blossom muffins.” Heidi opened the lid, and Georgie inhaled the inviting aroma of peaches and sugar. “You’re too skinny. Have two.”
