“We need to talk to Kimmie,” she said, knowing as a former employee, she should be refused entrance. Heck, Willard had likely sent out a memo proclaiming such. “Can you let us in?”
Gus hesitated. No one was to pass onto the hallowed ground of the Muskrat stadium without an ID or a ticket.
“What the hell.” He swiped his card. “If that gas bag, Willard, wants to fire me, I have one hell of a 401K that will buy me a nice beach house in Pensacola.”
Laughing, Harper thanked him and went inside. Alvin stomped along on her heels like an oversized grim reaper.
The cool temperature, the smells, the familiar sounds of activity, caused her misty vision to return. She blinked rapidly. She’d been a cheerleader since she could stand and didn’t realize how much she missed being part of a team until this moment.
“Need the napkin?”
“Shut it.”
Alvin chuckled. Thankfully, his teasing helped her regain her composure. They slowly passed several people she knew and discovered that they’d missed her, too. She was only twenty yards into the building and already had a full measure of hugs.
When they walked past the player’s locker room she was spotted by Michael Reyes, currently the best running back in the league. She was ambushed, dumped over his shoulder, and carried inside the hallowed place where testosterone reigned supreme
“Look what I found sneaking down the hallway,” he said and turned her around so everyone could see her face.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Ross called out.
Angelo added, “It’s about time I have something to look at besides these jokers. It’s good to see you, Harper.”
Reyes jostled her as if losing his grip. “Oops.”
“Let me down, you big bully,” she said and gently slapped her open palms on his back. He slid her down from his shoulder but kept her cradled against his chest.
“How are you doing, Mini Mite?” Reyes asked. “You look good. Jail must agree with you.”
“You are hilarious.” Knowing he’d had a crush on her, she didn’t take offense. She sassed him right back. “You should do time yourself. The food will give you game. You could use some.”
He laughed and took some ribbing from the guys over the insult. Harper hugged him. He was a great guy. If they hadn’t worked together, she might have dated him.
She was laughingly passed from arms to arms, getting hugs from players in various stages of dress for the upcoming practice. She didn’t mind; they were all respectful and happy to see her. And she, them.
Alvin watched from the doorway as she caught up with the guys, and offered encouragement for the upcoming season.
“There’s our hero,” a voice boomed from behind her. She spun to come face-to-face with quarterback, Deke Trotter. He lifted her up and kissed her cheek. “Who knew it would be our Harper who’d free us from Gerald the Terrible.”
“Not funny.” She pushed his chest. “Put me down.”
Deke was pretty boy handsome with a strong dimpled jaw and a face that would make Tom Brady weep with envy. He made tons of money pushing everything from shoes to jockstraps and had an ego to match. And yet, Harper liked him. Who wouldn’t? He reminded her of a big puppy that chewed on your shoes or ate your favorite chair but you couldn’t stay mad at him.
“Come on, Harp,” he said. “We all know you didn’t do it.” He slung an arm around her neck. “You would have made his death slow and painful.”
Making a face, she jabbed him in the ribs. He grunted and released her. The guys chuckled.
“Tease me all you want.” She crossed her arms and turned serious. “But if you know anything about who might be the actual killer, I’d like to know. Willard is already planning gallows for center field.”
Chapter 19
Deke rubbed his knuckles on her head, then stepped back. He reached for his practice jersey and slid it over his head. His muscles disappeared. It was a shame that he had to wear a shirt. Ever.
“Don’t you think you’re being dramatic, Harp?”
How easy it was for him to say that.
“If you had the police breathing down your neck, you’d be dramatic, too,” she snapped back. His casual dismissal irked her.
Chuckling, he left the locker room, followed by several of the guys. Reyes hung back. “I haven’t heard any gossip about the killer,” he said. “If I do, I’ll call you.”
She offered up a grateful smile. The more friends she had on the inside, the better. “Thanks, Mikey.”
He squeezed her elbow and walked out. The rest of the room emptied in his wake.
Shoulders slumped, she passed Alvin and into the hallway. Clearing herself wasn’t easy. They’d been working on it for a couple of days and had nada. She’d hoped the police had found a better suspect by now.
Since she hadn’t heard from Detective Mignon to tell her he’d cleared her, she assumed she was still on top of the heap. Why, when there were much better suspects? Heck, what about the widow? Odds leaned high in her favor as the killer.
Gerald was awful. Betty Anne suffered under his rule and his cheating. She had all the motives.
“Cases take a while to solve,” Alvin said as if reading her mind. “Don’t get discouraged.”
Harper stopped walking. “You’re pretty compassionate for a hired killer-thug. Maybe you offed him yourself?”
“That’s mean.” He stretched his massive shoulders. “I do have feelings, you know. I’ve seen The Notebook seven times and cried twice.”
“Really?”
“No, not really.” He scowled her down. “The last time I cried was when I came out of the hatch and the doctor spanked my bare ass. However, I do know something about being unfairly judged. People cross the street when they see me coming.”
The man had a point. He was scary looking and she’d judged him, too. “Well, in all fairness, you do scowl a lot, don’t shave, and have been prone to violence in your past.”
The scowl deepened. “Do you know that I raise bunnies and show them at the county fair?”
“Really?”
He sighed and stared blankly. “What do you think?”
Face warming at her gullibility, she glared. “Stop messing with me. I’m not in the mood.”
He smiled. A couple of his teeth were slightly crooked. “The point I’m getting to is you know you’re innocent and a couple of other people think you’re innocent. Hang on to that.”
“Nice pep talk. Really.” He seemed serious. “Do you think I’m innocent?”
“Does it matter?”
Their conversation was likely the longest string of words he’d ever spoken in one sitting. She did appreciate that he was trying to help, in his own gruff way.
Scanning his face, she shrugged. “I suppose not.”
Their eyes met. “If it helps,” he said as if pained, “I’m leaning in your favor.”
“Aw, shucks. That must have hurt.” Her mouth dissolved into a smile. “Thanks.”
Her phone chimed. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” Noah.
Oops. She should have told him where she was going so he wouldn’t worry. “I’m at the stadium.”
Silence, then, “In Lansing?”
“Yes.”
“Are you safe?” His voice tensed. “A neighbor told me you were kidnapped by a large man in black.”
“I wasn’t kidnapped.” She became troubled by the knowledge that had she been kidnapped, it would take at least two hours to get back to Noah. They needed a better neighborhood watch. “Alvin is an old friend. Taryn sent him to help.”
Alvin arched a brow. “Friend?” he mouthed.
“I’ll explain more later.” She headed for Kimmie’s office. “I’m sorry I worried you. Since you were visiting with Adam, I thought I’d vi
sit Kimmie alone. She was Gerald’s assistant.”
Seeing his face wasn’t required to feel his annoyance. Tension seeped through the phone.
“Later.” The line went dead.
Harper put the phone in her front pocket. The argument could be made that she didn’t have to explain where she went and with who. But she’d hired Noah. She should have given him the opportunity to come with her to Lansing.
Truthfully, he’d probably been more worried than he’d let on when he found out she gone off with some guy. Or maybe he was jealous thinking she was seeing someone else.
Either way, he deserved to be in on anything having to do with the case. She’d dropped that ball.
“Everything okay?” Alvin asked.
“Fine.”
Alvin followed her to Kimmie’s office. The young woman was not there. Harper walked to the connecting door and found her in Gerald’s office, seated behind his desk, with her laptop open. A coffee cup and a sandwich wrapper lay on the desk.
The assistant looked comfortable.
Too comfortable. If Gerald was alive, she wouldn’t dare sit behind his desk. Times had certainly changed in a few days.
Kimmie jumped to her feet when she saw Harper and Alvin. “I was, ah, trying to, ah, get the office organized for the next GM.” She hurriedly scooped up the wrapper and dropped it into the wastebasket.
“I wasn’t expecting visitors.” A nervous smiled tugged her mouth. “It’s good to see you, Harper.” She didn’t sound pleased.
Harper wondered if she’d been too quick to scratch Kimmie off the list of suspects. Killers didn’t all look alike. They didn’t have to resemble Alvin, whose appearance screamed serial killer. Kimmie could have a dark heart beneath her pink fuzzy sweater.
Harper slipped into business mode. “This isn’t a personal visit. I need to pick your brain about Gerald.”
Questioning Kimmie would both help Harper glean info about her late boss and give her a chance to see what Kimmie was up to. She seemed awfully nervous over borrowing Gerald’s chair.
“I’ll do what I can,” the assistant rushed to assure her. “But if Willard finds out you were in the building, we didn’t meet and I haven’t seen you.”
“Deal.”
Kimmie walked over to close and lock the doors to the hallway and to Gerald’s office while Harper took a seat before the desk. Alvin hovered nearby.
“Does he have to be here?” Kimmie asked in a stage whisper. “He’s creeping me out.”
Alvin glowered and leaned against the wall. He’d been pre-Kimmie’s employment. It was unlikely she’d heard about him. Whatever vibes she was getting from him were not from history but from the fact that he scared most people.
“Pretend he’s a potted plant,” Harper said. “Now, about Gerald. Let’s go back a couple of months. Other than his usual weirdness, had he been acting strangely lately?”
Sweeping back her brown hair, Kimmie pulled an elastic band off her wrist, and twisted her hair out of her face. She reclaimed Gerald’s large and fancy leather chair. Harper wondered if her feet touched the floor.
“I want to say no, yet the more I think on it, he did seem distracted the last couple of weeks.”
“Distracted how?”
“I’d arrive and he’d be staring out the window. He never stared out the window unless there was an accident on the road. And sometimes he’d yell at me to get out when he was on the phone. He was unusually secretive.”
“Could he have been talking to Sharla?”
“Doubtful.” Kimmie played with the envelope opener. “He never hid her from me. In fact, he liked to brag about his conquests. But he was always careful not to give me ammo for a harassment lawsuit.”
Gerald was open about his cheating. Everyone knew he stepped out in his marriage. They also knew about Taryn’s lawsuit against Willard. Gerald must have learned a lesson from his uncle and kept his bragging clean.
“Do you know if there was anyone current other than Sharla?” Harper pressed. “Could there be a ticked off boyfriend or husband bent on revenge? How about any threatening phone calls or texts that worried him?”
She was rambling. There had to be something.
Kimmie thought about it and continued. “Last week he and Betty Anne had a huge blowout. She made threats.”
Chapter 20
“You couldn’t have opened with that?” Hope rose in Harper. Finally another suspect! She whipped out her phone, pushed record, and pushed it across the desk. “What did she say exactly? I need every detail.”
Kimmie grimaced. “Do you have to record our conversation? I don’t want to get fired.”
If anyone understood losing a job, Harper could. She was burning through her savings like a drunken college student at a strip bar. However, without evidence against Betty Anne she’d have nothing to show the police.
Mignon wouldn’t take her word. He wasn’t a fan.
“I’ll do my best to shield you.” Harper’s eyes pleaded for understanding. She could smell desperation pouring from her skin. It was all she could do not to drop to her knees and pray before the altar that was Gerald’s chair.
“Kimmie, this is my life we’re talking about. You saw how freaked out I was after a couple of hours in jail. I really need you. Please.”
The young woman cracked. “Okay. Betty Anne said, ‘If you don’t break up with that whore, then I’ll run you over with my station wagon until your innards come out your ears.’”
“Wow,” Alvin said. “That’s brutal. I didn’t know the mouse had violence in her.”
Alvin’s comment rang true. Betty Anne was as timid as a mouse. Finding out that she had a spine helped Harper and solidified the woman’s place in the suspect pool.
“It must have been about Sharla. Did she say anything else?” Harper asked eagerly.
Kimmie nodded. “There was something about taking all his money and running off to Cabo with a hunk half his age.”
Alvin chuckled. “I’d like to see that.”
Harper spun her head around. “Not helpful.”
The idea of Betty Anne peeling out of her granny dresses and putting on a bikini seemed absurd. Adding a hunk to the picture was not imaginable. The widow didn’t have it in her to break loose and be bad. Her idea of rebellion would be more along the lines of paying for her mustache wax without a coupon.
Yet, Betty Anne had stood up for herself. The kicked dog had kicked back. How had Gerald reacted once they were alone? Did the blowout lead to a crime of passion?
“This is good stuff.” Harper couldn’t wait to get the info to Noah. “I wonder what broke her. Gerald has been with Sharla for months now. Maybe he had someone new that Betty Anne saw as a threat to her marriage?”
“No telling. I didn’t hear the whole conversation,” Kimmie said. “However, she tore in here with a bee in her Amish-style bonnet, and lit into him. I’ve never seen her go past casual indifference or outright apathy when it came to her husband. Something really ticked her off.”
Harper turned to Alvin. “Finding out what riled her up may be the key to solving the murder.”
Alvin nodded. “Good luck getting her to talk. The Covingtons circle the wagons pretty tight against outsiders.”
* * * *
Alvin drove them back to Ann Arbor while Harper glared at the back of his shaggy head. “We need to rework this whole you Tarzan, you drive car thing,” she’d said as she’d climbed into the back seat. “I’m a strong woman, capable of taking care of myself.”
She squeezed hand sanitizer onto her hands in case any lingering Gerald cooties remained in his office.
Alvin grunt-grinned in reply. He’d gone back to communicating without words.
After handing over the keys and leaving her at the apartment, he mumbled something in man code about either going out to cave paint wit
h his fellow knuckle-draggers, or he had an appointment with the dentist. Either way, she was happy to see him go. She needed a break.
The apartment was quiet when she went inside. She hadn’t seen Noah or Adam’s vehicles in the driveway next door, so she stripped to her panties and turned on the shower. Being in Gerald’s office had left her feeling icky. The sanitizer hadn’t lasted long enough.
She twisted her hair into a bun on top of her head and after dropping her panties, she showered for fifteen minutes, letting the hot spray relax her mind.
Humming as she dried off and reached for her robe on the back of the door, she felt better. She dug out and filled the tea pot and went into the pantry for the box of cookies she’d purchased earlier. Without the daily weigh-ins, why not indulge?
The pot whistled at almost the same time that she heard a noise at the back door. It had to be Noah, ready for an argument. Hopefully what she’d learned today would help soothe his temper.
For a second, she contemplated pretending she wasn’t home. Unfortunately, the rental was parked out front.
So she braced for a lecture and pulled the curtains back. No Noah. Another noise, like a bleating sheep, sounded.
“What the heck?” She slid open the glass doors and peered out. Munching on the petunias at the edge of the cement patio was Harriet the goat.
Oh, no.
“How in the hell did you get here?” She stepped outside. Harriet ignored her. The farm critter ripped up a patch of flowers and flung dirt far and wide.
“Stop that! Now!” Harper scolded. The goat went down and rolled onto her back. “Oh, come on!”
Goat legs flailed in the air.
“It’s curious how you didn’t lose the clump of flowers in your mouth, despite such a dramatic faint,” Harper taunted. Great, she was talking to a goat.
Noah stepped over the fence. He stopped when he spotted Harriet. “How did she get here? Did you steal her?”
“Of course I didn’t steal her.”
Harriet rolled back to her feet. She finished eating the flowers, and walked over to chew on the tie of Harper’s robe. A tug-of-of-war followed. Harper had an incentive to win. She was naked underneath.
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