The Sweetheart Kiss

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  Of all the things she could have said, this was low on his list. “Is this a joke?”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  Despite appearing ready to come out of her skin, her body was tense and she wasn’t smiling. He also knew Jess was not a flake or a conspiracy theorist. If she thought she’d seen the sniper, she had. “Tell me everything.”

  Jess filled him in. “The neighbor saw her go over the fence and run off. Well, he wasn’t sure if the kid was male or female, or what age he might be. But the description fits. And if she knows I’m here, then she likely knew about my apartment. She has to be the arsonist, too.”

  Sam held up his hands. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Everything Jess said made sense. “If all of this is true, then this person has been stalking you and Irving for some time.”

  “I think so, too.”

  Shit. “Was there any sign of a rifle?”

  “The neighbor didn’t say, so I think no. She could be getting my routine down.” Her voice trailed off and she rubbed her neck. “To take another shot.”

  She stared off.

  “This is bullshit.” Sam paced, angry for not having been there to catch the sniper, but also that the woman had most likely stalked Jess, Irving, and maybe Summer and Taryn, too, without sending up red flags. “Who in the hell is this woman and what is her end game?”

  Jess walked into the living room and sat on what remained of his couch. She dropped her face into her hands. “I have no idea,” she mumbled and lifted her head. Her eyes were worried. “This has to be tied to one of our cases. There’s nothing else that makes sense. Brash is the only common connection.”

  “Then we have to look at this through that lens.” He went for his notebook and pen and sat on the coffee table. “We need to start from the beginning of your employment with Brash and move forward. Somewhere in your old cases is the key.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  He tapped the pen on the book. “Do you have a better idea?”

  For a second, she considered the question. “No.” Then, “There might be one other thing. Before Spike took off something hit me in the back of the neck. Twice. It stung. And this wasn’t the first time. I’ve felt the sting before.”

  “And you’re telling me this now?”

  “She didn’t shoot me. I didn’t think it was relevant.” She leaned her head forward while he looked at her neck. There were two small red marks. “Spike also ate a piece of jerky off the grass. She might have left it to distract Spike.”

  He dropped onto his ravaged couch beside her. Anger burned in his belly. If this had been the sniper, she’d been close enough to shoot Jess. Why hadn’t she taken the shot?

  “She may have used a pellet gun,” he said. A pellet gun made perfect sense. “That would explain the lack of serious injury. She meant to warn you, not kill you.”

  “Oh, hell.” She picked at the exposed stuffing, her face becoming an angry mask. “Warn me against what? We aren’t exactly close to catching her.”

  “Maybe her game is to scare you or just piss you off?” If the sniper had been serious, Jess would be dead.

  The idea of never seeing her again caused a pain in his chest. “This is why we need to stay close. She just proved she’s a loose cannon and dangerous.”

  Jess dropped the stuffing and stood. “Then let’s get to work and catch her.”

  For the next two hours and a backyard break for Spike, they went through every case she could remember, again, throwing a few solved by Summer and Taryn into the mix.

  Sam’s frustration grew as each case was examined and tossed aside. He closed the notebook. “Damnit.”

  Calvin padded past wearing a bright yellow banana hammock per their agreement that he cover up in daylight hours. Sam didn’t even twitch. Progress.

  “I told you that we do not have high level cases,” Jess said with a wave for their guest and slumped back in her seat. “In order to hire a sniper, someone has to have the funds to pull this off. Most of our cases are divorces and petty stuff. Well, and an attempted murder, but that man is in jail.”

  She took a deep breath. “If anyone is angry with me, they’d probably come at me with a crow bar.”

  Seeing a solid dead end to the questioning, he rose. “I need a break. Why don’t we check the gun shops?”

  * * *

  Because Spike had proved his worth by sniffing out the sniper, Sam let him ride along. Although it was more likely that the dog was after the jerky and not the suspect. In Sam’s eyes, Spike had proven his worth as a guard dog.

  When they arrived at the first shop, he looked in the back seat. “Why does he lick the windows?”

  Jess turned around. “I think it’s a nervous habit.”

  “Ah-huh.” Sam opened the windows enough for the mutt’s big head to stick out, and they went into The Deer and Duck Sporting Goods Store. A hidden doorbell quacked as they went inside. A pair of men dressed from hat to toe in camouflage checked out Jess as one of them chewed on a toothpick and the other examined a crossbow.

  “I’ll bet you ten bucks that their undies have ducks on them,” Jess whispered, amused. “I love outdoorsmen. I have several in my family. But those two are over-the-top.”

  Sam liked fishing as much as the next guy, but these two looked like hard-core hunters. They probably dressed like that all the time in case a new hunting season popped up.

  “It’s not much of a bet,” Sam said. “You’d have to find a way to check or forfeit your money.”

  Jess acted like she was interested in a display of wool socks. Sam went for the holsters. “It’s been a while since my last date and I am hot for men in uniforms. It’s a bet.”

  Giving her a look, he put a holster back on the rack. “Don’t encourage them. I’d rather not shoot anyone today.”

  The sexy troublemaker wandered to a rack of women’s orange camo coveralls. The two Bubbas watched her like she was a ten-point buck in their rifle sights. The men put their heads together, whispered back and forth, and chuckled, while Sam wanted to punch them both in the face for being disrespectful.

  The arrival of a clerk from the back brought the gawking to an end. One of the hunters made a purchase and they left.

  “Can I help you?” The clerk was grizzled, in his sixties, and had the weathered face of a man who probably spent most of his free time outdoors.

  Sam walked over and introduced himself. The man claimed to be the owner. “We’re looking for a woman in her late teens or twenties, who might have purchased these.” He pulled out a shell casing in an evidence bag.

  “We sell a lot of those here, and many of our clients are women.” He took the bag and held it up to the light. Shaking his head, he handed the bag back. “Can you be more specific?”

  “We’re looking back over the last week or two,” Jess offered and gave a short description of the sniper. “She might have been wearing a dark hoodie.”

  The owner shrugged. “Sorry. I can’t help you.”

  They got the same response from the other shops they visited. They just didn’t have enough information to make the suspect stand out in anyone’s mind.

  “She could have come prepared.” Jess said what they were both thinking. “If she’s from out of state, the purchase could be from anywhere.”

  They passed through a drive-thru for lunch and headed back home. Sam wanted to update his files and go into the office for a couple hours. He had other active cases that needed some attention. And Spike needed to spend some time outdoors.

  As Sam drove toward his driveway, they both could see into the backyard.

  Two women sat on lawn chairs in the yard behind them. The chairs had a perfect view of the tent. They had fruity drinks in their hands and were sharing a bowl of popcorn.

  A headache thudded in his skull.

  “I’ll head to the hospital and visit Irving. Alvin will need a break. He’s taking the shooting hard. H
e feels like he failed the boss,” Jess said, ignoring the women.

  “There was nothing he could do.”

  “Try to tell him that.” Jess sat quietly as they pulled into the driveway. Suddenly, she froze. “Oh my God. Irving.”

  “What is it?” Sam said.

  “The letters. It’s the damn letters.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Why hadn’t she put two and two together? There was one common denominator that pointed right at Irving as the true target, the stalker letters. She’d bet her paychecks for a year that they were somehow connected.

  “Remember I mentioned that Irving has been getting creepy letters from an anonymous sender? He didn’t make a big deal out of them because there was no overt threat.” She lifted her gaze to his and gave him a quick recap. “It’s possible the sender upped his or her game and decided to take Irving out.”

  Sam backed out of the driveway. “We’re going to find out.”

  The hospital loomed in a mix of brick and glass as they walked in and followed a sign to the elevator. Irving was watching a news program while Alvin stood watch from the doorway like a giant sphynx hovering over the boy king.

  “Why don’t you take a break,” Jess said to the behemoth of a man. She didn’t trust him 100 percent—after all, their history was sketchy—but he was loyal to Irving and that’s what counted.

  Alvin nodded and left. Irving muted the TV. “I told Alvin he didn’t have to play guard dog but he’s stubborn. He thinks the sniper will blast me while I’m eating my peas and pudding cup if he isn’t lurking.”

  He indicated the empty cup and plastic spoon.

  Jess walked over and poured him some water. “He cares about you. We all do.”

  Irving sipped. “I pay him to care.”

  “We both know that’s not the reason,” she scolded and straightened his blanket over his skinny tanned legs. Some of his color was back. “To know you is to love you.”

  Irving brushed her hands away when she moved to plump his pillow. “Stop fussing. Between Gretchen, Taryn and you, I don’t get any peace.”

  Despite his grumbling, she knew he loved to be fussed over. They were the daughters he never had. Since his wife passed and he was estranged from his son, the crew at Brash &Brazen was his family. He loved them all.

  “What about the whole ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead’ thing you say when we suggest you slow down?” she said. “If you want peace, we can get you a room at Shady acres. You’ll have lights out at nine and all the bingo you can handle.”

  “Are you trying to kill me?” A slight smile showed perfect porcelain choppers. He’d recently upgraded from his old pair.

  Footsteps in the hallway caught their attention. Blond, tanned, and beautiful, Summer breezed in like a ray of sunshine in a floral sun dress. Jason was on her heels. He sent Jess an apologetic shrug as his wife hurried to Irving.

  “I should have known you’d get in trouble if I left town.” She leaned to kiss Irving’s liver-spotted head. He grinned. Summer was his favorite, or so Taryn and Jess liked to tease. She looked down at his bandaged leg. “Why didn’t you duck?”

  “I didn’t have time.”

  Summer clucked her tongue and hugged Jess. “You know I couldn’t stay away,” she whispered. “We’d have come yesterday but all the flights out were full.”

  Jess held her tight. “It’s good to have you back.”

  Alvin slipped into the room. “You didn’t have to cut your honeymoon short,” he groused. “Everything is under control.”

  “I know it is,” Summer said. “You couldn’t have known that Irving was also a target. Now that you have the facts, the sniper won’t have a second chance.”

  This seemed to mollify the big guy. Summer had a way with men. One look or a softly worded comment, and they’d follow her off a cliff. Oh, to have that power.

  “We brought you a present,” Summer said, turning back to Irving.” Jason handed the package over. “I hope you like them.”

  Grinning like it was Christmas, Irving opened his gift. The smile deepened to crinkle up his entire face when he lifted the brightest blue, yellow, and orange plaid PJ’s and matching slippers from beneath tissue paper.

  “Look, it says ‘Aloha’ on the breast pocket. I thought you could wear them while you recover.”

  Irving nodded and dabbed at the corner of one eye. “I’ve missed my golf pants.” He tugged at the light blue hospital gown. “My rump is chilled from hanging out all the time.”

  “No one wants to see that,” Jason joked.

  “I knew you’d want your plaid back.” Summer sat next to the bed and took his hand. “I’m so happy that you’re okay.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “Me, too.”

  Yep, Summer was his favorite. Oddly, Jess wasn’t jealous. Summer was too good a friend and too sweet to dislike. And Irving had enough love to go around.

  They talked about Hawaii and personal updates from everyone before talk drifted to the case. It was the elephant in the room that was impossible to ignore. Well, that and Alvin.

  Jess explained her suspicion about the letters. “The letters are the only connection I could come up with. Sam and I went through three years of cases, and nothing stood out. Yes, we have dealt with sketchy characters, but no one that fits hiring a sniper for revenge.”

  “It’s a pretty big leap from stalker to killer,” Irving interjected. “And why you? The letters came to me.”

  “That’s the unanswered question,” Sam said. “Nothing about this case makes sense.”

  He explained that it had been all but confirmed that the first victim, Tom, was not the target. “We looked into his ex-wife and ex-best friend and both had solid alibis. They also don’t have the money needed to hire a professional hit. They’re underwater with their house and are living on credit cards.”

  “We keep assuming the hit was a professional,” Alvin piped in. “Yet she missed, twice.”

  “Unless killing wasn’t her goal,” Jason said.

  This had been something Jess and Sam had discussed. “We’ve considered that angle,” she said. “There’s also the chance that this person isn’t a hired hit at all. She might be just a hunter with a grudge against Brash for some unknown reason. A lot of women hunt in this state.”

  Summer nodded. “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Why don’t we table these theories for now and start with the letters.”

  * * *

  Sam and Jess returned to his SUV a few minutes later, drove to the far edge of the parking lot, and let Spike out near a bush. They stood side-by-side watching the dog wander around the grass at the end of his leash.

  “Do you really think the letters are the key?” Jess said and leaned her shoulder against his. For some reason, when she was stressed, she liked to touch him. He wondered if she noticed she did that. Maybe not, but he liked the contact.

  Sam thought about the case so far. He wanted to give her a thoughtful answer. “From years of experience in law enforcement, I can’t give you a solid 100 percent yes. There are always solutions to cases that come out of left field. But they seem to be the only connection that makes sense, given Irving being shot.”

  “It’s the church attack that doesn’t fit,” Jess said, finishing his thought. Spike walked over.

  Sam loaded the dog into the vehicle and joined her inside. “If the sniper is hunting Brash employees, and not just Irving was the intended target, then why you and not Taryn or Summer?”

  “Taryn has been laid up for the last ten days and Summer was on her honeymoon. They’d be hard to hit.”

  “True,” he said. “Although if our theory is correct about the stalking, then the sniper—or whoever hired her—has been watching you for longer than the couple of weeks Summer’s been gone.”

  At her concerned expression, he reached out and took her hand as she said, “That’s just creepy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

>   Wheeler had gone out again for a second night without an explanation and that tweaked to life the investigator in Jess. Heck, it tweaked the woman in her. Although she and the sexy detective didn’t have a romantic connection, the idea of him rushing out for a booty call didn’t sit well. She’d jokingly offered him sex, and he hadn’t acted. Now he was going out to meet some mystery woman?

  Before he could pull out of the driveway, she had Spike in the laundry room and the keys in her hand. Calvin was wandering around the house.

  After tapping into the GPS on his phone with Summer’s help, Jess followed him in his old truck across town to an industrial area filled with dark buildings and questionable street lights.

  Although the area was dark and empty at the late hour, there was a lot of activity in front of one of the businesses.

  “Not exactly what I expected,” she said when she pulled into a crowded parking lot in front of a large block building that said “Manny’s” over the door. “Huh.” Jess had never heard of the place. Maybe it was a dance club?

  She grabbed her ID and a fifty out of her tote, got out, locked the doors, and followed the crush of people heading inside. There was a buzz of energy in the air.

  The smell of sweat and excitement hit her in the face as she saw posters tacked on the inside walls and quickly realized this was a gym of some sort, having an event that was clearly popular enough to draw a huge crowd. She paid the twenty-dollar cover fee and turned a corner into the main room. In the center was a boxing ring where two men were kickboxing.

  Neither was Wheeler. He must be a fan.

  She stepped to the side and scanned the huge and too warm room. On three sides, bleachers had been pulled out from the walls and were already three quarters filled. As she went to get a decent seat, she looked for Wheeler, but no luck.

  If he was around, she’d see him eventually. The room was big, but not that big.

  She took a seat in the middle of a row. The energy from the crowd filled her as she watched her first kickboxing match.