by Debbie Mason
Aidan didn’t have to give her the lowdown; Mrs. Bradford took care of that for him. Then the mayor went all mama bear on the older woman. No one talked smack about Julia around Hazel and got away with it. According to the mayor, Aidan was a hero for protecting Julia. Either that or Hazel was singing his praises in order to make it up to the Gallaghers for partnering with Paige Townsend last year.
“I could strangle Julia. All my work to get Hazel reelected will be for nothing if Julia continues upsetting Mrs. Bradford and Hazel has to keep defending her.”
“It wasn’t Julia’s fault. She—”
Delaney waved a dismissive hand. “Please, don’t. I can’t tell you how sick I am of hearing how wonderful Julia is. Trust me, no one is that sweet and kind. She has something to hide just like the rest of us.”
Before he had a chance to ask Delaney what she was hiding, she pasted a fake smile on her face and walked over to the older women, no doubt in hopes of smoothing things over.
Benson gestured for his dad as he walked Aidan’s way. “Before you get bent out of shape, Colin, this won’t be on Aidan’s record, nor will he lose pay. It’s just to pacify the Bradfords, husband and wife. They have you on cell phone video, Aidan. You grabbed Mrs. Bradford’s arm, and while you didn’t leave a mark, the expression on your face… Well, let’s just say it probably would play in her favor in court.”
The last thing Aidan needed was for this to go before a judge.
Benson must have realized where his mind went. “Keeping this out of court is the reason you’ll be off for a week. I’d also like you to consider taking an anger management course.”
“I don’t need an anger management course.” Benson and his father shared a glance. “You both know this is bullshit. But whatever, if I have to take a week off to make it go away, I don’t care. What I do care about is what Mrs. Bradford pulled on Julia. She can’t get away with it.”
“Does that sound like she’s getting away it?” Benson asked, nodding at the mayor.
From what Aidan could make of the conversation, Hazel was on the phone with Mr. Bradford, threatening to offer one of her empty buildings on Main Street to Bradford’s major competitor if the man didn’t control his wife. It didn’t seem like Hazel was too worried about her reelection campaign. Delaney on the other hand…
Byron Harte, who Aidan had spotted hanging out in a dark corner near the older women, came out of his hiding place to saunter over. “Chiefs, Detective, anyone want to give a statement? Other than no comment?”
Ever since the mermaid incident the Hartes hadn’t been a fan of Aidan’s. After he’d brought Julia to the station to question her in Olivia’s disappearance, he’d become public enemy number one. They took every opportunity they got to make him look bad. No doubt they were salivating over this story.
Still… “You wanna help Julia out, talk to Hazel. Get her to insist Mrs. Bradford take out a full-page ad praising Julia’s job on the Festival of Lights. And when you guys run your coverage on tonight, make sure you use the word magical, a lot.”
Byron gave him an appraising look. “I’ll do that.”
“Harte,” Benson said, “if you could downplay the incident between my detective and Mrs. Bradford, I’d appreciate it.”
“As would I,” his father added.
Aidan doubted that saying anything would do any good and kept quiet. So he was more than a little surprised to hear Byron say, “What incident?” as he walked away.
For the first time since Aidan had moved back to Harmony Harbor, he wasn’t feeling like every step he made was the wrong one. It was an odd feeling. And not entirely unwelcome.
Liam held open the door for Mia, George, Harper, and Ella Rose. “Everything good here?” his brother asked, taking George and Mia by the hands.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Aidan assured him.
“Good, good,” he said, glancing to where Harper had stopped to put on Ella Rose’s mittens.
Aidan’s Spidey sense went off. “What did Julia do?”
“How did you…?” Liam looked down at the girls and then back at Harper, who began walking their way. “Looks like you’re about to find out.”
“I thought I told you to keep an eye on Julia.”
“She’s sneaky. It might be great though. Just, you know, be chill.” Liam and the girls said goodbye to his dad and headed to where his brother had parked down the street.
The lights in Books and Beans went out, leaving the store in complete darkness. The sound of dead bolts sliding across the door reverberated in the cold night air. The streetlights glinted off the crystals in Julia’s tiara as she peeked from behind the glass. He made a gun with his fingers and aimed at the window in the front door, and the tiara disappeared. That told him everything he needed to know. Whatever she had done, he wasn’t going to like it. He wasn’t going to like it one little bit.
“I had a very interesting chat with Julia,” Harper said.
“Is that right?” He leaned past her to lift Ella Rose into his arms. “You must be tired, pumpkin. Did you have fun?” She nodded and rubbed her eyes. “Say bye to Grandpa.”
Colin kissed Ella Rose’s cheek and gave her a hug. “It was good to see you, poppet.” His father gave Aidan’s ex a polite nod. “Thanks for bringing her, Harper. Don’t be a stranger.”
Harper looped her arm through Aidan’s. “Actually, like I just mentioned to Aidan, I had an interesting conversation with Julia. She had an idea that might work for all of us.”
His father raised his eyebrows at him. He shrugged, so his dad asked the question Aidan was afraid to, “Really, what is it?”
“Julia heard we had a home in Newton and has a friend who wants to buy there. She wondered if we’d be interested in selling. I was shocked to find out how much we could get for the house, Aidan. Anyway, Julia made a really good case for us moving here.”
Aidan swallowed. “Here? You mean you and Ella Rose moving here… to Harmony Harbor?”
“Yes. Julia’s read Where Evil Lurks. She actually has several copies in stock. She wondered if I had ever given any thought to writing fiction. She says there’s a market for psychological thrillers and is positive that, given my talent and expertise, she can help me get published.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to move here to write,” Aidan said, positive that with Julia involved, there was something more going on, and he needed to get to the bottom of it. Because there’s no way Harper would move from Newton unless she had a really good reason to.
Refusing to meet his gaze, Harper reached over to stroke Ella Rose’s cheek and smiled. “I know, but I’ve been thinking about what you said, about how important it is for Ella Rose to spend time with you, and you’re right, it is. This will make it easier for all of us to be…” She glanced at him and quickly changed the subject. “If Julia can help me get published, it will be the perfect way for me to feel productive again without taking time from Ella Rose.”
His father was grinning from ear to ear. “If Julia said she can get you published, I have no doubt she can. She’s quite the little miracle worker.”
Harper laughed. “If she can pull off all she promised, it probably would qualify as a miracle. I’m not holding my breath though. But she has given me lots to think about.”
And there it was, exactly what he’d been afraid of. Harper gave him a look that was frighteningly similar to the one Delaney had given him earlier. If Julia had planted an idea in his ex’s head that moving to Harmony Harbor would lead to them getting back together, he might be the one strangling her instead of Delaney.
Harper continued. “To be honest, after speaking to Mrs. Bradford, I wasn’t sure what to make of Julia… How did that turn out, by the way? I saw everything if you need me to talk to your boss.”
“Thanks, but it’s all good. Come on, we better get going. It’s late.” And he had someone he wanted to see before the night was over.
Chapter Eleven
Aidan smiled that slow, sexy s
mile of his just before he lifted his gun and fired. The glass shattered, and the…
A shrill beeping sound startled Julia, pulling her out of the story. Her initial thought was that she’d put on the teapot and had forgotten to turn off the burner. She blinked and opened her eyes. She’d been trying to get deeper into her character’s point of view by typing with her eyes closed. It hadn’t worked as well as she’d hoped. But it had ensured that she didn’t see the smoke… Smoke! There was smoke filling her living room. Again.
Duckety duck, duck, duck.
The annoying voice on the smoke detector bleated fire, fire.
“Julia, open the damn door!”
Frantically searching under the papers littering her desk for her cell phone, she ignored the voice. Though she was impressed. It was amazing how real Adrian sounded. Like he was right outside… Wait a minute. He was calling her name, not Gillian’s. Crap, it was Aidan. Double crap, she knew why he was here. She’d thought she’d have until morning to face him.
“Hang on! I—” She heard a loud bang at the same time she found her phone. “I’m coming!” she called, running to the outside entry door as she punched in the assigned number for the alarm company.
At the same time she realized there was no dial tone, Aidan kicked in her door. It bounced off the wall and the hulking shadow of a man filled the open doorway. If she hadn’t recognized his voice, she’d be terrified. Given the intimidating expression on his face, she wondered if maybe she should still be afraid.
Fire, the smoke detector bleated again. Right, fire, smoke. “Hurry, I need your phone!” She made grabby motions with her fingers.
He looked at her like she’d lost her mind and strode into the room. “Your alarm is connected to the station. They’ll be on their way. Where’s the fire? Do you have an extinguisher?”
“No, no, I don’t need the fire department. I need your phone.” She rushed forward. He didn’t seem to understand the urgency of the situation, and she began patting him down.
He reached in his pocket, punching in a code before handing her his phone. Of course his would be password protected.
“Thanks,” she said to his back as he prowled around her apartment, no doubt looking for the source of the smoke. “I think my nachos are on fire.”
She made a face at his muttered, “You have got to be shitting me.” And then went to look up the alarm company’s number on her phone, only to realize she couldn’t access it because her cell was dead. “Duck.”
She raced to her desk and searched for the alarm company’s business card while muttering to herself, “I need the number. Where would I put the number for the alarm company? Laptop. Of course.” Laptop, no! It was on and open for Aidan to see. She slammed her laptop shut at the same time the oven door banged closed.
Aidan strode from the kitchen wearing her burned oven mitt and carrying a charbroiled tray of smoking ash. “It’s usually on the unit,” he said dryly before heading out the door.
Which went to prove that the man didn’t miss a thing, even her half-whispered conversation with herself.
At the return of his heavy footsteps, she turned her back to her desk, attempting to use her body as a screen. Widening her stance and her arms, she wrapped her fingers around the edge of the desk and leaned back in hopes of concealing any evidence of her book from his all-seeing cop’s eyes.
He glanced at her and then did a double take. She thought she heard a muttered “Jesus,” before he retrieved his phone from her hand and continued across the living room, dodging a basket of laundry, a box of decorations she’d yet to put up on the tree, and a half-eaten bowl of cereal.
Wondering what was with the double take, she looked around. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Sure her place was a little messy, but he was a guy. He probably wouldn’t even notice. She thought of something he might notice and looked down.
Yep, that was probably the reason for the look. It was obvious she was cold, and her body-hugging black T-shirt read SANTA’S FAVORITE HO with the jolly old elf ho-ho-hoing, paired with black-and-white plaid flannel sleep pants.
When Aidan reached the other side of the living room, he placed the cell phone between his shoulder and ear and raised the window. “Yeah, it’s Aidan Gallagher. The call from 232 Main Street is a false alarm. That’s her. Five times, is that so? I’ll tell her, thanks.”
“It wasn’t five false alarms. It was four,” she said to his back before turning to bury a paperback copy of Warrior’s Kiss and her contract for Warrior’s Touch under some paper and turn her notepad upside down while doing a visual search for any other incriminating evidence.
“Doesn’t matter. You still broke the record for false alarms in a six-week time frame. Dispatch says Mrs. Rosenbloom had three.”
“Are they charging me?”
“No.” He answered his ringing phone and then bowed his head. “Hello, Dad. Yes, she’s fine. Is that right? Nachos. No, smoke’s not too bad. Okay, I’ll do that. Don’t remind me,” he grumbled, and then disconnected.
Whatever his dad said to Aidan didn’t improve his already not-so-happy mood. Which was just one more reason to put off talking about the suggestion she’d made to Harper and why. Besides that, she wasn’t exactly equipped to handle him tonight. She was tired, and her throat had passed sore an hour before.
“I really appreciate you dropping by, but it’s late, and I have an early day.” She forced a smile and moved to see him out…her broken door. She barely managed to stifle an anguished moan. She couldn’t face the thought of repairing the door tonight.
He lifted his chin to the left of the kitchen. “Is that your bedroom?”
She ignored her inner hussy, who yelled Who needs a bed and suggested Julia throw herself on the floor at his feet. Her inner hussy was way more optimistic about their chances of getting lucky tonight.
“Yes, but I don’t see… What do you think you’re doing?” she asked as he walked over and opened her bedroom door. Umm, more like shoved it open. The clothes that had been hanging over her door this morning must have fallen off when she closed it.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you said to Harper. You’re tired? Fine, you can talk to me from your bed while I fix your door.” He looked around her bedroom. “If we can find your bed.”
She grabbed a pink lace bra off the doorknob and held it behind her back. “I’ve been busy. I haven’t had time to tidy up.”
“What, like in a year?”
“Very funny. I’m sure your room isn’t any better.”
“Sugarplum, my bedroom didn’t look this bad when I was a kid.”
She kind of liked that he called her sugarplum but could do without the sarcasm. She scooted past him to scoop up her bras and panties and any other embarrassing items that were lying on the floor… and on the bed… and on her dresser. And half sticking out of her nightstand drawer! As breezily as she could, she moved to the front of the nightstand in hopes of blocking his view. “It’s a little smoky in here. Maybe you should open that window too?”
She smiled. He sighed.
As soon as his back was turned, she thigh-checked the nightstand drawer closed. Only it didn’t close. Instead it acted like a rocket launcher, and her fluorescent pink vibrator sailed through the air to land with a splash in the goldfish bowl sitting on the bench at the end of her bed. She slapped her hands over her mouth, releasing a muffled “I’ve killed Eric and Ariel!”
Aidan looked from the fishbowl to her and started to laugh, a deep rumbly sound that she would have enjoyed if it wasn’t at her expense and if… “It’s not funny! My fish are drowning. Save them!”
That made him laugh harder, and his shoulders started to shake. “Death by vibrator. Not a bad way to go.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say, Aidan Gallagher.” She cautiously removed the vibrator from the water, her shoulders sagging in relief when Eric and Ariel swam to the surface. “And FYI, this is not a vibrator. It’s a personal massager
.” She rubbed it against the nape of her neck, trying not to make a face when cool water trickled down her back. “See? You should try it.”
He pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head, his eyes glinting with amusement. It took him a minute before he said, “Yeah, no. I’ll just go fix your door, thanks. I’ve got a toolbox in my trunk. I’ll be right back.”
If she had more energy, she would have cheered. It appeared that he wasn’t going to interrogate her about her conversation with his ex. At least not tonight. “Okay. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“FYI, I’m not going anywhere until I get some answers.” He patted her arm when she groaned, and then he frowned. “You’re hot.”
Her inner hussy preened. “Why? Because I have a vibra… personal massager?”
“What? No. You’re hot, as in you’re burning up.”
Well, that was embarrassing. But at least there was one benefit to feeling crappy. Two, she thought when he rested his palm on her forehead and slid it down to her cheek. He had wonderful hands. Big and strong and just a little bit rough, and she began thinking of what his wonderful man hands…
“Do you have any other symptoms?”
“I can barely swallow, and I’m tired, like really, really tired.” She exaggerated a little in hopes he’d feel sorry for her and let the interrogation go for tonight. Though she really was tired.
“You’re off the hook. For now. Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He swept everything off her mattress and onto the floor. “Okay, knock off the outraged look. It’s not like you didn’t already have a crapload of stuff on the floor. Don’t worry, I’ll pick everything up once you get into bed.” He held back the comforter and sheets and, looking a little uncomfortable, said, “You should probably lose your pajama bottoms. They’re flannel.”
Once he’d covered her with only a sheet, he picked up a pillow that had fallen to the floor, fluffed it, and gently lifted her head to tuck it underneath. Then he crouched beside the bed and stroked her hair from her face. “You want something to drink—water or tea?”
