The Sweetheart Mystery

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  Harper laughed and Noah did his best, succumbing to his own laughter and the ridiculousness of the situation. Despite it all, Noah managed to help her to an orgasm and find his own with a low growl.

  Exhausted, he lowered over her.

  She tried to adjust to give him room. “That was fun.” She tried to pull him in for a kiss.

  “Don’t move,” he demanded. “Dear God, don’t move!”

  Chapter 36

  Startled, Harper spun her head around, half expecting to see the farmer with his face pressed against the window, or an axe murderer wielding that particular chopping tool. There was nothing but darkness and moonlight on corn stalks.

  Puzzled, she lifted her brows.

  “Leg cramp,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, thank goodness.” Biting off a smile, she managed to extricate herself from under him. Turning to search the floor for her dress, she snatched it up and pulled the item over her head, shoving her arms through the holes.

  A snort-wince brought her attention around. “You have a seatbelt imprint on your ass,” Noah said.

  “I probably have goat hair everywhere else.”

  Taking charge with a clinical eye, she quickly took care of the condom, placed his shirt on his lap, then rubbed her hands together. “Where?”

  “Right calf.”

  Having spent much of her life with leg cramps from the acrobatics required for cheerleading, she had knowledge of techniques for rubbing them out. She started low on his ankle and worked her way up. As a stoic alpha male, he didn’t whine, scream, or weep, though his face contorted into something resembling an enraged Incredible Hulk.

  “Better?”

  “Some.” He grunted. “Higher.”

  She moved up and massaged behind his knee. That seemed to help. Hulk vanished. Noah was back. “Good?”

  “Higher.”

  They were moving out of calf range, but fine. He managed to give her an orgasm in the limited confines of the car and with kicked balls. She was happy to help him out.

  “Higher.”

  The man had nice thighs. She did a version of a deep tissue massage of his rectus femoris. “Higher.” His voice had gone low.

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see where this was going. They’d moved out of calf cramp massage range minutes ago. Yet, she wasn’t complaining. She liked having power over big, tough Noah. “Higher.”

  Up she went. “I’ve never heard of a traveling cramp. It’s one for the medical books.”

  He grinned, realizing she knew the game. “Higher.”

  She moved inward to his adductor longus. The muscle wasn’t the only thing getting long-gus. The tented shirt couldn’t hide his intentions. “I’m running out of leg.”

  “I’m running out of patience.” He swept the shirt aside. He was fully erect.

  “Well, look at that.” She gently poked it with one finger. “That must hurt. Too bad we don’t have any more condoms.”

  He pulled up his left leg, where his tuxedo pants were still hooked around his foot. He dug around in the pocket and pulled out a foil package. “Look at that. A back-up plan.”

  She pushed his feet to the floor and climbed onto his lap. “I do love a man who comes prepared.”

  * * * *

  Noah sensed that Harper needed space after two rounds of lovemaking in the car and a quiet ride home. He’d kissed her at her door and said good night. Since she hadn’t protested, he knew he’d been right.

  And as morning brought sunlight into his bedroom, he wondered how she felt about him. Them.

  They’d made a huge step forward last night, he thought, when he rolled from bed and dragged himself into the shower. Every part of him ached. Making love to Harper in the back seat of that damn car had contorted his muscles, and stretched the limits of his sexual creativity. He was not yet thirty and already feeling too old for sex in the backseat of a car.

  Still, for Harper, he’d twist into a pretzel if it meant making her happy.

  Thirty minutes later, he whistled as he walked to her door after sending her a text. The door was unlocked. When he walked inside, she rushed past him and around the living room, shoving stuff into her bag.

  “Summer called,” she said in way of acknowledging his presence. “She found something big.”

  “Did she say what?” So much for talking feelings, and about their future. Thank you, Summer.

  She finally came to a stop before him. “Only that the new clues will help me.” She threw him the keys and almost took out his eye. “You drive. I can’t drive.”

  Anxious and keyed-up, she hurried past him.

  He didn’t take the brush-off to heart, nor did he expect loving glances. Last night was a release of pent up sexual tension. At least that’s what he told himself. It was time to get back to work.

  Aiming Harvey in the direction of Brash & Brazen, he felt her fidget without glancing her way.

  “Can’t you go any faster?”

  Great. He had his own backseat driver. “I’m going three over the speed limit.”

  “Go ten,” she ordered. Twitch. Twitch.

  “We’re in a school zone.” He pulled up behind a row of buses letting kids out at the curb in front of an elementary school. “I’m not running over the rug rats.”

  “Right. Sorry.” She slumped back. Twitch. “What do you think Summer found?” Her foot spun in circles.

  Huh. She was hopped up. “How much coffee did you have this morning, HJ?”

  She faced him. Her pupils were shuttering open and closed like a high speed camera at a wedding reception. “Two cups.”

  “And…”

  “I mixed in an energy drink that I found in the back of the pantry.” She blinked over red eyes. “I didn’t sleep well last night.” He readied himself for a prideful puff up when she added, “Crank phone calls again.”

  So much for a post-orgasm ego stroke. “Can you get Summer to run the number?”

  Twitch. “She did. It’s a burner phone.”

  Concerned for her health, and despite her protests, he drove through a fast food drive-thru and picked her up the jumbo waffle breakfast and an orange juice. He hoped the waffles would soak up the coffee and energy drink.

  Harper made a face as she lifted a plate-sized waffle out of the to-go container. “This is bigger than my head.”

  “Eat them or I’m taking you home.”

  “Yes, boss.” She shoved the corner of the waffle, without syrup, into her mouth and chewed it down. “Not bad.”

  Fortunately, Harper plowed through one and a half waffles in record time. It would be best described as watching a LSD-laced beaver chew through a giant redwood tree.

  Crumbs flew everywhere. When she came up for air, she smiled. “Happy?”

  “Very, though I may never eat waffles again.” Shaking his head, he covered the last few miles to Brash. By the time they got to the elevator, her pupils resembled normal, and the twitching had diminished to slight tremors.

  “I’m throwing out the rest of those energy drinks,” she said sheepishly. “I think they were expired.”

  Noah rolled his eyes. “Good idea.” He hooked her around the neck and kissed the top of her head as the elevator dinged and the door slid open. “Now, let’s go find Summer.”

  Gretchen sat behind her desk and waved them back. Summer was at her desk on video phone with Jess. Jess appeared to be in a parking lot. They were chatting about babies and how many diapers one small human could go through in a day.

  “I might need a second job,” Jess said, smiling.

  Spotting them, Summer said, “Hey, come on in.” Noah and Harper took seats. “Taryn should be here in a second.”

  Taryn appeared in the doorway with her phone clutched in her hand. She smiled at Harper and Noah.

  “D
id you get anything good?” Jess asked eagerly.

  Taryn walked over and opened her phone. “They were talking in the hallway.” She held up the screen for Jess, then passed the phone around. Harper and Noah shared an amused look over the image of Gretchen and Alvin standing near a door indicating a cafeteria. There was nothing unusual about the pic.

  “You people are obsessed,” Harper said.

  * * * *

  Not one of them denied her accusation. She probably shouldn’t have mentioned the Gretchen-Alvin connection. He suspected the mystery made her friends crazier than normal.

  “Shoot, I have to go,” Jess said and looked to her left. “I see a sale on baby clothes.” The feed went dead.

  Harper chimed in lest they get back on Alvin and Gretchen. “Would it be possible to get to my case?”

  Summer smiled and nodded. “Wheel on over.”

  Harper and Noah rolled their chairs to her. The three of them huddled around the computer screen. She pulled up and paused video image of the back of a building. The shot was dim.

  “What are we looking at?” Noah asked.

  “It’s surveillance from a Taco Bell parking lot camera.” Summer clicked the video. “This is the back of the Rosemont Hotel on the night before Gerald’s murder. Two lights are out in the hotel parking lot so the quality isn’t good.”

  His heartbeat kicked up as the video played. “How did you find this?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “Taryn and I went out there and looked around. Several businesses had cameras, but the Taco Bell was the only one that showed the back of the hotel.”

  “If this clears me,” Harper said and glanced at Taryn, “I’m purchasing stock in Taco Bell and buying you the biggest burrito on the menu.”

  “Hold your credit card, sweetie, this gets better.” Summer fast forwarded the tape, then stopped. “Watch closely.”

  She slowly forwarded the video. In the dim light of the parking lot, it took a minute to realize what he was seeing. From out of the darkness, a figure in dark clothes appeared on a balcony. The person looked around, down to the ground, and stood at the edge of the sixth floor railing.

  “He’s climbing up,” Harper said, awed.

  “That he is,” Summer said. “The guy has guts.”

  The figure wobbled on the rail and used the nearby wall to steady himself. Then, like a movie spy, stepped the distance to the next balcony. “Are you shitting me?” Noah said. “What is that? Six feet?”

  “Five,” Taryn said. “Summer and I measured it.”

  Harper frowned. “That probably rules out a woman as the suspect, unless she’s very tall.” She took a breath. “Berit? She’s a tall woman.”

  Noah knew what she was thinking. Betty Anne could be ruled out as the actual killer. Her assistant could not. It didn’t take her entirely off as the possible mastermind behind a murder-for-hire.

  Taryn shook her head. “I don’t think the acrobat is female. See that way he moves. That’s all male.”

  As they watched, Noah figured Taryn was right. “I agree. I’d be surprised if the figure is female.”

  The guy pulled the same move twice more, steeping between the balcony spaces. Then he fiddled with the sliding glass door on the third balcony for several minutes. He disappeared inside the room with a flutter of curtains.

  “I always felt a measure of safety taking a room on an upper floor,” Harper said. “Those days are over.”

  Chapter 37

  “Did you talk to anyone at the hotel?” Noah said and muted hope edged his words. “The maids, the desk clerks, or guests staying on that floor that night?”

  Summer shook her head. “We decided to leave that to you. Getting us all involved muddles things up.”

  “We did call the detective on the case, Mignon,” Taryn said. “The tape you’re looking at is a copy. He took the original and urged us, strongly, to stay out of his case.”

  “He should be grateful for your help,” Harper grumbled. Grumpy codger was how her aunt would describe the detective. Or worse, if Lila knew how he’d treated her niece.

  Examining their interactions, Harper understood that she’d given the gruff detective a lot of ammo against her. Perhaps he wasn’t Satan in a rumpled suit after all.

  Summer stopped the tape. “He did say thank you.”

  Taryn made an exasperated sound. “He only did that because you laid the southern charm on thick. He would have given you a kidney if you’d asked.”

  “I think he’s stressed out,” Summer countered. “This is a big case. It’s getting national media.”

  Compassionate and sweet, Summer was sometimes overlooked for her brains. But she was sharp and could outpace the best computer geek in a face-to-face matchup. She even tracked down international criminals for fun. For her to look for the good in Mignon wasn’t a surprise.

  “He’s probably wrung out from tormenting me,” Harper said and turned to her friends. “Thank you both for finding him a better suspect.”

  “It was the least we could do for a fellow Muskrat,” Taryn said. Harper rose and hugged her. As their leader back in the day, before the three women became PI’s, Taryn had watched out for the ladies. If anyone got into trouble or had a need, she rallied to the cause. She’d been a fiercely loyal friend. Summer and Jess, too. Harper missed working with them.

  With everything inside her, she hoped that Irving was serious about the job. She’d never considered changing careers until she was much older, but working for Brash & Brazen, in any capacity, would be a dream.

  She turned and bent to hug Summer around the neck. “Thanks, honey. I love you. All of you.”

  “Anything for you, darlin’,” Summer said with a catch in her throat. “I’ll send both of you a copy of the video to your phones.”

  Noah rattled off his number.

  “Is there anything else we can do for you?” Taryn asked. “Interrogate suspects, run surveillance on Betty Anne, or beat up Willard just because we can?”

  No arm twisting for Taryn to do the last one. She and Willard had tangled for a few years over a sexual harassment lawsuit. He eventually settled for big bucks. And he still had that crooked nose to remind him not to mess with the former Muskrat cheerleading captain.

  Harper laughed. Then a thought popped in. “Summer, there’s one thing you can do. Will you run financials on Old Jack Garvey? He’s fallen into money and I’d like to know how.”

  Summer glanced at Taryn. The latter leaned back on the desk and crossed her arms. “The money came from my settlement. I asked him to keep it to himself.”

  “Why?” Noah asked.

  “I set up a fund to help out some of the older employees of Willard’s. Only the three of us and my husband, Rick, know about it.” She frowned. “Some of the people Willard fired without cause don’t have much retirement income. If I hear about a need, I send an anonymous check. Old Jack only knows about me because he kept tearing up the checks, thinking it was a scam.”

  “He’s a character,” Harper said. “I owe him a big apology.” She walked to Taryn. “You are the best.”

  Taryn hugged her. “Awe, shucks.” Everyone laughed at her sad attempt to mimic Summer’s drawl. “Willard’s blood money should go to help others.”

  In this, they all agreed.

  Harper was relieved to cross Jack off the suspect list.

  “We should go,” Noah said. “Hopefully we can get to the hotel before Mignon and his minions descend on the place.”

  They headed out of the office. Jess got off the elevator when the doors opened. She stopped in mid stride. Carrying a big camera, she was dressed all in black with her hair twisted up into a scrappy tangle at the back of her neck. “Hey, I missed the fun.”

  Harper smiled and glanced at the camera. “It looks like you were making your own fun. You didn’t get that from the baby
store.”

  Jess lifted the camera. “I was watching a guy win second in a strong man contest. What makes that interesting is that he’s ripped off his former employer to the tune of fifty thousand dollars in workman’s comp. Last Friday when he went to the doctor, he was in a cast from his neck to his hips.”

  “He made a remarkable recovery,” Noah joked.

  “Obviously, heaven sent a miracle.” Jess leaned to hug Harper. “I need to get these pics downloaded and off to our client ASAP. See you soon?”

  Harper nodded. “Yes, absolutely.” She and Noah watched Jess go, walking confidently into the office in killer high boots. “My friends are so badass.”

  “They are,” he agreed and tugged her into the elevator. Easing her against his chest, he lowered his head. “I’m getting you those boots.”

  She squirmed as he tickle-nuzzled her neck with his chin shadow. The man was a serious neck-nuzzler. The doors opened on the first floor and ended his play. She pushed him back.

  “Boots later.” She led him out. “Let’s go catch a killer.”

  * * * *

  The hotel wasn’t on lockdown, but according to the manager, Tiffany, the two rooms attached to the daredevil’s exit and entry were closed off by order of the police.

  That was okay, because Noah had no way to lift prints or collect DNA anyway. He wanted to know how the guy got into the first room and what he did once he got to the last room.

  Tiffany was no more than twenty and looked at him with appreciation as she twirled her hair. Although he had no official capacity in which to twist her arm for information, who was he to say no if she willingly offered it up?

  He looked straight into her eyes and grinned. “I find it hard to believe that someone so young is the manager of a hotel of this size. That’s impressive.”

  The young woman smiled and bit her bottom lip. “I’m the afternoon desk manager, but I have hopes of like taking over William’s job someday.”

  He assumed William was the manager. Instinct told him to steer clear of that guy. Tiffany was his target.

  “I can see you in charge. You give off the confidence needed for a good management professional.”