He smiled, though his eyes still held a note of concern. "Then she's a hero."
I made a mental note to call her that in my article. To make sure the entire school knew what a brave hero the introverted, unassuming Ellen was. I felt horrible for ever having suspected her for a second, and I vowed to make it up to her in any way I could.
"And Chase? Is he going to be okay?" I asked, eyes going to the gurney where EMTs were still flashing little lights in his eyes and checking vitals.
Raley nodded. "He'll be fine."
I let out a long sigh of relief. "Really?"
"They're checking for a concussion. Considering he lost consciousness, it's likely. But he's alert and responsive, so those are all good signs."
I nodded, feeling tears leak from my eyes. "Thanks."
Raley put his hand on my shoulder again. "Your boyfriend's going to be fine," he said in his fatherly voice.
I should have corrected him, but in that moment, I really didn't mind anyone thinking of Chase as my boyfriend. As long as we were thinking of him alive, Raley could call him whatever he wanted.
"Did Chase say what he was doing in the booth?" I asked, thinking back to the male voice and the ominous thud I'd heard after I'd seen Sophia enter it.
"He said Sophia texted him. Said she saw someone drag you inside and thought you were in trouble."
My stomach clenched. "He went in to help me?"
Raley must have seen my eyes threatening to leak again as he patted my back awkwardly. "He's a good kid."
I nodded, the tears in my throat preventing speech.
"Anyway, I've already spoken to your mom," Raley told me.
My feeling of relief at Chase being okay was short lived. "You have?" I squeaked out, knowing it had been inevitable.
"Yeah. She's on her way." He pursed his lips together, giving me a long, assessing stare. "Look, maybe we should give her a slightly edited version of events tonight."
I paused, feeling my eyebrow rise. "You want to give her an edited-for-Mom version?" I asked.
He grinned. "I hadn't thought of it like that, but yeah. I mean, I'm not going to lie to her, mind you."
"Of course," I agreed.
"But I might want to soften some of the dangerous edges a bit. You know, for her sake." He paused, grinning again. "What do you say?"
"I say that's a great idea," I told him. What do you know? Maybe Raley wasn't such a terrible guy after all. Look at him worrying about Mom's feelings that way. And if his worry kept me from being grounded for the rest of my natural life, well, so much the better. Maybe I could handle him being around a little longer after all.
* * *
The next day, Mom kept me home from school, citing the need for a mental health day. I promised her my mental health was fine, but she said it wasn't my mental health she was worried about. Despite our edited version, Mom had, as expected, freaked out at the idea of me being in the sights of a murderer. Again. I'd been hugged within an inch of my life (which I really hadn't minded), scolded about putting myself in danger (even though, in all fairness, it had been Sophia putting me in danger, not me putting myself in danger), and moaned to about where Mom had gone wrong in raising a daughter who was constantly targeted by killers.
I'd countered that it wasn't a constant state. And that she must have done something right in raising me, because we'd brought a killer to justice. But the word killer hadn't gone over very well, and in the end I had agreed—Mom could use a mental health day.
So, I'd slept in, eaten a big breakfast of quinoa pancakes with agave syrup, and played board games with Mom and binge-watched Netflix shows all day. It wasn't until after dinner that she'd chilled enough to let me go to my room alone and type up my firsthand account of the confession from the Gamer Con killer for the Homepage.
I'd just finished it up and sent it off to Chase when I heard Mom call up the stairs.
"Hartley? You have a visitor!"
"Be right there," I yelled back, expecting it to be Sam with an armload of homework for me. I hit Send and quickly ran down to meet her.
Only, it wasn't Sam at the door but Chase. He was standing in the foyer, conversing politely with my mother. He looked up as I approached, and I could see a white bandage taped to the right side of his forehead. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed the fact he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, but other than that, he looked like his usual self, dressed in a pair of dark jeans, combat boots, and a black hoodie.
"Hey," he said, raising a hand as I hit the last stair.
"Hey," I said back, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious that I hadn't looked in a mirror in hours. I was still in my Netflixing sweats and fuzzy socks with little unicorns on them. Not exactly sophisticated loungewear.
"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me," Mom said, stepping away. "Glad you're okay, Chase."
"Thanks, Mrs. Featherstone," he called after her.
She gave him a wave before disappearing through the kitchen doorway. Though, I had the distinct feeling she might be hovering just this side of earshot.
I turned to Chase. "Are you okay?" I couldn't help my eyes going to the bandage on his head.
He shrugged, giving me a lopsided smile. "I've been better. But, yeah, the doctor said I should be fine. Gave me some good pain pills for the headache, but nothing too serious."
I'd beg to differ that being knocked unconscious by a killer was kinda serious, but I let it go. I could tell he was doing his best to put on a brave face.
"Sorry," I told him.
He raised an eyebrow my way. "For?"
"For getting you hit on the head."
He frowned. "You didn't do anything."
"Yes, I did. I should have seen that Sophia was playing us. And I shouldn't have left you alone. You put yourself out there as bait, and I should have had your back more."
"Hartley." Chase took a step forward, deleting any space between us. His hand reached out and grabbed mine, enveloping it in sudden warmth. "It's not your fault. None of us knew what Sophia had done."
I licked my lips, having a hard time concentrating on the conversation with the way Chase's hand holding mine felt. "But you got hurt trying to protect me."
But Chase shook his head again. "You would have done the same thing."
Would I? Maybe. Probably. Hopefully. But it didn't erase the guilt that had been gnawing at me ever since I'd seen his combat boots in the same position Connor had died in.
"Besides," Chase went on. "Me baiting Phoebe had nothing to do with how things ended up. I mean, Phoebe was totally innocent."
It didn't escape me that his voice suddenly had a cheerful lift to it at that last thought. "Not totally innocent," I argued. "She did bug my phone." Which, by the way, I'd had to hand over to Raley as evidence. To be honest, I'd been happy to fork it over—not wanting to use it again until I was sure it was de-bugged.
Chase shrugged in concession. "Fair point. But I talked to her about that."
"You talked to her?" An uncomfortable feeling hit the pit of my stomach.
He nodded. "She said she only put the spy program on your phone because she thought you knew something that might help her lawsuit."
I frowned. "Which, I guess, we did. We led her right to Tyler."
He nodded again. "Right. And when she contracted Tyler, in addition to getting him to sign on with Peak to create the next Athena's Quest, she also got him to detail how he had created the epic game while working as an intern for Peak. With Tyler's testimony, she's expecting to have full rights to the game."
"Goody for her," I mumbled. "I suppose she's hired you on as her intern too?"
He let out a soft laugh. "Nah. Not really my scene, you know? I was thinking I might apply for an internship at the Mercury News instead."
"So, you're not going to be spending the summer with Phoebe?" I asked, cringing internally at how stalkerish I sounded.
He shook his head and shrugged. "Probably won't ever see her again, truth be told. Can't i
magine why I would."
Neither could I. Which put a little pep in my step.
"I guess with the cat out of the bag about Connor, that's the end of Jason Pruit's gravy train," I noted.
"Oh, I don't know about that. Did you see his public statement?"
I shook my head. "No. I'm phoneless until my new one arrives." I hadn't realized how disconnected it would make me feel. "What did he say?"
Chase pulled his own phone from his pocket, swiping to pull up a video clip on YouTube. "Check it out."
I did, watching Jason face the camera at some sort of impromptu news conference outside the offices of Silicon Valley Management. "We're all very shocked by the arrest of Sophia Larson in connection with Connor Simon's death, and we hope that justice is served in the matter."
"What about allegations that your client was a fraud?" someone in the crowd shouted.
I could see him wince as microphones were shoved at him, but he answered smoothly. "While Connor Simon may have had some help in creating his content, his legacy in the gaming world is one that should be honored for being the driving force behind the goddess games."
"Driving force?" I asked. "Is that code for thief?"
"Oh, it gets better," Chase said, nodding toward his phone.
I leaned in, watching the screen as another question I couldn't really hear was lobbed Pruit's way.
"I'm glad you asked," Pruit said. "We're very pleased to announce our latest talent acquisition here at Silicon Valley Management, Tyler McGowan."
"No way!" I said, laughing.
"Way." Chase nodded at the screen as Tyler's face appeared, looking distinctly young and a little shellshocked at all the attention.
"Tyler was Connor's protégé," Pruit went on, "and we're excited to see what kind of wonderful things he'll be bringing to Peak Games in the future. Now, if you'll excuse us, no more questions please."
The clip cut out as Jason ushered Tyler inside the building.
I shook my head. "Poor Tyler. He doesn't have a clue what he's got himself into."
"Well, let's just hope he fares better than Jason's last client." Chase put his phone back in his pocket. "Anyway, I just wanted to stop by to make sure you were okay."
"Me?"
"You weren't in school today."
"Right, mental health day. Mom's, not mine."
"I heard that!" I heard Mom call from the kitchen.
See, I knew she was listening.
Chase and I both shared a grin before I followed him out the door onto the front porch. "Thanks for coming by," I told him.
He nodded, looking like he had more to say. "You gonna be in school tomorrow?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I plan to be. Why?"
Again he looked like there was something on his mind, but he was having a hard time putting it into words. "Just wondered. Thought maybe we could do something after school."
"Something?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
He grinned. "Maybe I could buy you an ice cream or something. I mean, you kinda did save my life."
"Ellen saved our lives. I was the reason Sophia knocked you out," I reminded him.
He took a step closer to me. So close I could feel the warmth radiating off his skin and smell the brand of fabric softener his mom used. Bounce. Though it smelled so much more enticing on him than it did in our laundry room.
"Hartley," he said softly. "It wasn't your fault."
I sucked in a breath. I was suddenly hyper aware of his every movement. I parted my lips to respond, but before I had a chance, he leaned in. His lips moved toward mine, brushing against them ever so softly. So softly I thought I might have imagined it. I was still sort of in a dreamy state as he pulled away.
I blinked, so many sensations rushing through my body that my skin tingled and I was swaying on my feet a little.
Chase sent me a lopsided grin again, seemingly unfazed. "You. Me. Ice cream tomorrow?"
I just nodded dumbly as he stepped off the porch.
"Good," he told me, walking backward toward his car parked at the curb. "Looking forward to it, Featherstone."
He wasn't the only one.
I watched him get into his car and, with a cloud of exhaust scented smoke, roar away before I finally felt like I could breathe again.
Me. Chase. Ice cream.
And that kiss.
Oh boy, was I looking forward to it.
* * * * *
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ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Gemma Halliday is the #1 Amazon, New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of several mystery series. Gemma's books have received numerous awards, including a Golden Heart, two National Reader's Choice awards, three RITA nominations, a RONE award for best mystery, and two Killer Nashville Silver Falchion Awards for best cozy mystery and readers' choice. She currently lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her large, loud, and loving family.
To learn more about Gemma, visit her online at http://www.gemmahalliday.com
USA Today bestselling author, Jennifer Fischetto watches too much TV and movies, which fuel her never-ending supply of plot ideas, and is a rabid fan of suspense, horror, and everything supernatural. She lives in Western Mass with her family and a ridiculously large black cat and is currently working on her next project.
Jennifer is the author of the Gianna Mancini Mysteries, several of the Jamie Bond Mysteries, and other stand alone mystery novels, as well as being a contributor to the Danger Cove Mysteries.
To learn more about Jennifer Fischetto, visit her online at: http://jenniferfischetto.com
* * * * *
BOOKS BY GEMMA HALLIDAY
Hartley Grace Featherstone Mysteries:
Deadly Cool
Killer Looks
Wicked Games
High Heels Mysteries:
Spying in High Heels
Killer in High Heels
Undercover in High Heels
Christmas in High Heels (short story)
Alibi in High Heels
Mayhem in High Heels
Honeymoon in High Heels (novella)
Sweetheart in High Heels (short story)
Fearless in High Heels
Danger in High Heels
Homicide in High Heels
Deadly in High Heels
Suspect in High Heels
Peril in High Heels
Jeopardy in High Heels
Wine & Dine Mysteries:
A Sip Before Dying
Chocolate Covered Death
Victim in the Vineyard
Marriage, Merlot & Murder
Death in Wine Country
Fashion, Rosé & Foul Play
Death in Wine Country
Hollywood Headlines Mysteries:
Hollywood Scandals
Hollywood Secrets
Hollywood Confessions
Hollywood Holiday (short story)
Hollywood Deception
Hollywood Homicide
Hollywood Revenge
Jamie Bond Mysteries:
Unbreakable Bond
Secret Bond
Bond Bombshell (short story)
Lethal Bond
Dangerous Bond
Bond Ambition (short story)
Fatal Bond
Deadly Bond
Marty Hudson Mysteries:
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Brash Blonde
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Disappearing Diva
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Wealthy Widow
Tahoe Tessie Mysteries:
Luck Be A Lady
Hey Big Spender
Baby It's Cold Outside (short story)
Other Works:
Play Dead
Viva Las Vegas
A High Heels Haunting (novella)
Watching You (short story)
Confessions of a Bombshell Bandit (short story)
SNEAK PEEK
of the first next Marty Hudson/Sherlock Holmes Mystery
SHERLOCK HOLMES AND THE CASE OF THE BRASH BLONDE
a USA Today bestselling and RONE award winning novel!
by
GEMMA HALLIDAY
&
KELLY REY
CHAPTER ONE
"'How long has the subject been dead?' This is the question most commonly asked in the field of forensic pathology." The speaker paused to survey the lecture hall before moving to his next slide. A collective gasp rose at the sight of a human skull partially obscured by profuse vegetation.
Lightweights.
I sat forward, my attention rapt. The girl beside me muttered "Gross!" and went back to Candy Crush on her phone.
I tried not to roll my eyes at her. Well, I sorta tried. The guest speaker was only Dr. Bennett Osterman, one of the best in the field. His curriculum vitae was probably longer than any book Miss Candy Crush had ever read. I silently wondered how she'd even gotten into Stanford. Probably the offspring of alumni with deep pockets.
"It's sometimes difficult to say," Dr. Osterman went on. "As you can see in this example, postmortem vegetative growth has continued, precipitating the broken orbital bone fragments you see on this slide, which could easily mislead investigators into incorrect assumptions regarding cause of death. The appearance may mimic the results of battery, for example."
"Oh yuck," the girl said.
This time I didn't even try to hide my irritation, giving her a pointed look.
"This is where the inspection of root systems can be valuable," he added.
"I knew I should've dropped this class," the girl muttered.
"Shh," I whispered. "I want to—" My phone buzzed with an incoming text message. I glanced at the screen.
Wicked Games (Hartley Grace Featherstone Mysteries Book 3) Page 18
