Burning Hearts

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Burning Hearts Page 11

by Marci Bolden


  His excitement returned. “Done.”

  “I’ll wear a Batman T-shirt for the occasion.”

  Josh visibly winced at her geek faux pas. “No, that’s DC…” He smirked, trailing off before he could inform her about the ongoing DC vs Marvel battle, when she chuckled. “You knew that. I’m impressed.”

  “Just because I don’t watch superhero movies doesn’t mean I live under a rock, Joshie. Cook your eggs, or you’ll be late for work.” She hadn’t meant the words to sound so sweet, but the affection in her tone was undeniable.

  He blushed and smiled but had the sense to keep his thoughts, whatever they had been, to himself as he dumped the egg-and-milk mixture into a hot pan. “What are you doing today?”

  “There is something off about Neal Price’s wife. I need to find her and figure out what that is exactly.”

  “What are you thinking it is?”

  “She is definitely unhappy. I’d like to try to pinpoint why.”

  “And what does that have to do with our voyeur?”

  “My gut is telling me Neal Price and Shane Tremant are in this thing together. Maybe Tremant strong-armed Price. He’s definitely the alpha between the two. I’m wondering if Mrs. Price is less than thrilled with what the men are up to.”

  He scraped a spatula across the hot pan to stir his eggs. “Can you imagine finding out your spouse is a pervert?”

  “Maybe she’s always known.” Shrugging, she snagged an apple. “She drives her daughter to school about this time every morning. I’m going to try to catch her coming home and get a better read on her. I’ll see you later.” She turned toward the door and then stopped and looked back at him. “Try not to let the job get in your head today.”

  “I’ll try. Thanks.”

  She rolled her head back as she waited for the elevator to answer her press of the button. “Did I seriously suggest watching The Avengers? Man, that’s gonna suck.”

  The bell dinged. Thankfully the car was empty and the ride to the first floor smooth. Sitting in a corner of the lobby, flipping through a magazine and chomping on her apple, she kept the majority of her attention on the building’s main entrance.

  Eva jumped up as soon as Brenda Price walked in, looking like an unamused princess in perfectly cut Victoria’s Secret sweats with a Gucci bag hanging off her arm. Big sunglasses with a logo on the side that Eva didn’t recognize blocked out the morning sun and covered a good portion of Brenda’s face. The messy bun on top of her head bounced with each borderline stomp the woman made. She stopped at the elevator, pressed the button, and started staring at her phone as she waited.

  With her so deeply distracted, Eva stepped behind her without being noticed. When the elevator opened, she stepped in. “Good morning, Mrs. Price. How are you today?”

  Brenda’s face didn’t move. Eva wondered if it could. Her skin was plumped and stiff from the side effects of her latest measures to stay young. This process baffled Eva; the woman’s background check put her at forty-two. How much age damage could she have to hide?

  “Have fun shopping with Tiffany?”

  The bitterness in Brenda’s voice was a verbal sucker punch. Eva forced her smile to stay firm, as if she hadn’t heard the anger. “It was great. She certainly knows all the best places to shop.”

  “Yes. She does get around.”

  Oh. That was a double entendre if she’d ever heard one. Eva again acted as if she hadn’t noticed but would definitely look into that later. “If you aren’t busy, maybe we could grab breakfast. Or lunch. I’d love to—”

  “I know who you are and why you’re here, Ms. Thompson. Cut the neighborly bullshit.”

  Damn it, Price. She cursed the man who’d hired her. No one, absolutely no one, was supposed to know her real motives for being there. But Eva was more than happy to drop the perky persona. She was exhausted from the sprightly facade she’d been layering on the last few days.

  Brenda tugged the strap of her bag onto her shoulder. The lights of the elevator shone through her sunglass lenses just enough that Eva saw the dramatic eye roll. “The least you can do is not try to rub my nose in it.”

  Eva paused at that statement. Maybe Brenda Price didn’t know the real reason she was there. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  She smirked—as much as her muscle-paralyzing injections would allow. “Don’t play innocent with me.”

  “I’m not.”

  The doors slid open, and she stepped out. Turning before the doors closed, she said, “If you don’t, you’ll find out soon enough. You are just their type.”

  Whoa! Eva put her hand on the door before it could close. She stepped out and followed Brenda. She wasn’t going to let that comment fall. “Who? What are you talking about?”

  She spun on her heel toward her condo door, but Eva moved around her to block her way.

  “Brenda?”

  Eva eased her imposing stance and looked over her shoulder at Neal Price as he approached the confrontation.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked, looking from Eva to Brenda and back again.

  Brenda managed a smile. “Your new friend was inviting me to breakfast. Unfortunately, I’m busy today. Aren’t I, Neal?”

  He frowned at her but didn’t respond.

  Brenda smirked at Eva. “He thinks Cody’s in some kind of trouble. She’s sixteen, but I’ve been delegated to helicopter-parenting like she’s a toddler playing with mousetraps.”

  “She’s getting money from somewhere.”

  “Taking lessons from her father, no doubt.” She practically stomped to their condo door and disappeared behind it.

  Turning his attention to Eva, Price scowled. “What was that about?”

  “You tell me. She seems to think there’s a reason I’m here. One that has a lot more to do with my appearance than finding out who put a camera in Wendi Carter’s condo.”

  His eyes bulged. “Did you tell her about that?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Keep it that way. I paid you to figure this out and stop it before it happens to someone else. Where are you on that?”

  “I bet it’d be a lot easier if the security cameras monitoring your hallways recorded footage that could actually be useful.”

  He tensed his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “Stay away from my wife, Ms. Thompson. She has nothing to do with this.”

  “She’s upset about something.”

  “Not about this. Leave her alone.”

  “Hey,” she called when he started around her. She glanced around and then whispered, “You’ve been working on upgrading the security for a few days. What’s the company name? I’ll reach out to them.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” He left her standing there in the hallway, scowling and even more suspicious of him than she’d been when she’d decided to question his wife in the first place.

  What kind of HOA president didn’t want reliable security? She was beginning to think his lack of interest in upgrading the system was more about protecting himself than his fellow residents. When he’d come to HEARTS, he was so concerned about defending Jupiter Heights’s reputation. Maybe he was more concerned with making sure he continued to get away with whatever it was that he and Shane Tremant were covering up.

  Facing the closed door, the one that shielded the Prices from her suspicious gaze, she debated just how much Brenda Price knew and the best way to get her talking.

  Josh dropped the pizza box on the counter because Eva had photos spread across the kitchen table. She wasn’t dressed in comfy binge-watching clothes. She was still dressed for work in black slacks, a white blouse, and her gun in the holster on the table. He wasn’t trying to pout, but he should have known she’d forget their plans. He’d spent all day looking forward to sitting next to her on the sofa, watching his favorite movies with her. He’d hoped she had too, but she was engrossed in her case.

  “Stop scowling,” she chastised. “I’ll clean this up in a minute.”

  “What is th
is, exactly?”

  She joined him at the counter and flipped the box top back. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. “God, that smells good.” She dropped two slices onto a plate. “I talked to Brenda Price this morning. She confronted me is a more accurate description.”

  He sat on a barstool and immediately started plucking toppings off the slice he’d chosen. “About what?”

  “Why do you always get green peppers? You never eat them.”

  “Because you like them. Why did she confront you?”

  A strange mix of what looked like confusion and awe played across her face before she wiped her hands on a napkin. “She said the only reason I’m here is because I’m their type.”

  “Whose type?”

  “She didn’t get a chance to answer that. Her husband interrupted us, and she stormed off. Then he warned me to stay away from her. But it got me thinking.”

  “About?”

  Sinking onto a barstool, she narrowed her eyes. “Have you noticed how the majority of the residents here are single, fair-haired females? Brenda Price is the only tanned brunette woman I’ve seen around here. I’ve spent all day wandering the grounds, being neighborly”—she rolled her eyes to show her displeasure—“and I’ve confirmed something I hadn’t noticed before. There is very little variety here. The women all look the same.”

  “Like you.”

  “Just like me. And do you know who has final say in who lives here? Neal Price.”

  His stomach knotted around the pizza in his gut. He had a bad feeling about that. He didn’t like the idea of someone handpicking Eva for some sinister motive.

  Let Eva do her job, Joshua. “Another red flag for Price, then?”

  “Yes. It is. He was surprised when I told him you would be moving in with me. I didn’t think much about it because he hired me, not you, to live here. I just told him for safety’s sake we always work in pairs. He didn’t say anything about it, but…maybe that shock was disappointment?” She leaned on the counter and bit her plump bottom lip as she lifted her eyes to his. “I hate to do this.”

  He sighed. “You’re heading to HEARTS?”

  “I asked Holly to meet with me. Not just about this; we need to find out the name of the security company manning those cameras. Price doesn’t want to let me in on that. She didn’t have any time available this afternoon, but she texted me about fifteen minutes ago. She doesn’t have much time, but I want her to see these pictures and go over my notes. I’ll be back in plenty of time to squeeze in part one of our nerd fest.”

  He smiled when she did. “Yeah. I mean, you’re here to stop a pervert. So…go stop a pervert.”

  “How was your day?”

  “Better.”

  “Really?”

  He could tell her all about it, but that would distract her from her case, and as much as he loved being here with her all the time, he wanted this case to be over. The uneasy feeling in his stomach was telling him the longer she stayed in this building, the more danger she was going to be in. Job or not, he didn’t like it and wanted her out of Jupiter Heights. “Really. Go. I’m sure Holly wants to get home to Jack.”

  “Yeah. Thanks for the pizza. It was really good.”

  He could have eaten more, watched something on Netflix while he waited for her, but as soon as she left him alone, the condo seemed far too empty. He put the pizza away and debated taking a shower. Standing in the bathroom doorway just reminded him how he’d finally accepted and professed his love for her. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to hear him as water filled the tub.

  Chickenshit.

  He paced the condo for a few more minutes before putting on some of the workout clothes he’d bought after he’d decided to take advantage of the Jupiter Heights gym while they lived there. Wearing baggy shorts and a moisture-wicking T-shirt to keep his body temperature regulated as he exerted his barely there muscles.

  He’d just walked into the small space crammed full of machines when he spotted Price and Tremant hanging out. Literally hanging out. They weren’t exercising. Just standing around the equipment, talking quietly. As soon as Josh walked in, they put a bit more space between them and acted like he hadn’t interrupted an intense conversation. Neal Price waved, asked how he was doing, but neither showed any genuine interest in him. Instead they went back to lifting weights—Price spotting Tremant.

  Josh hopped on the elliptical, the closest bit of equipment he dared to utilize, and put buds into his ears. However, when he fiddled with his phone, instead of finding music, he opened the recorder he sometimes used as a backup while making notes in autopsy or at a crime scene. Pulling the earbud plug out just enough to disengage it so the microphone would pick up external noise, he started moving the steps on the elliptical.

  He occasionally glanced at the men in the mirror. They had stopped lifting and were once again muttering quietly. Josh had no idea if the phone would pick up their voices, but he sure as hell hoped so, given the torture he was enduring to capture whatever nugget he could. His legs started burning two minutes in. He reminded himself that the buildup of lactic acid was causing the discomfort and his muscles weren’t really on fire, but that logic didn’t make him want to push though.

  Okay. It was time. He seriously needed to start working out. Really working out. Not coming down to the gym when he was bored and tinkering with the equipment or lifting a hand weight a few times to appease the part of him that was demanding he start taking care of himself.

  If he lived through this, he vowed as he wiped sweat off his brow, it was time to get serious. He checked the resistance, not once but twice, confirming he was working on the easiest level. Even so, sweat was coating his skin faster than the moisture wick could keep up with. His temperature and his breath increased to a pant as his lungs tried to keep up with the oxygen needs of his body.

  Dear Lord. He was going to die.

  Finally, after what must have been an hour, the door to the gym closed with a loud click and Josh was alone. He nearly collapsed onto the elliptical panel when his gaze fell on the clock.

  Six minutes. He’d only been on the damned machine for six minutes. He didn’t believe it. He stepped onto the floor on shaky legs and turned off the recorder. Sitting on a bench, he rested his elbows on his knees and pushed the earbud plug all the way in. Restarting the recording, he focused on slowing his breathing. The voices in the background were unintelligible for the most part. Every now and then, if he squinted his eyes and really strained to hear, Josh could catch a word or two.

  “I’m telling you. She knows,” one of them said.

  “Don’t blow this,” the other said a few moments later.

  Then: “Just be cool. She can’t be that smart.”

  “Hi, Joshua,” a voice said, loud enough to break through his concentration.

  Josh glanced up. Melly…he couldn’t remember her last name…wriggled her fingers at him. He was all too familiar with how difficult it was to get away from her. Eva had mentioned it every time they saw her after the potluck.

  He didn’t have time to get stuck in pointless conversation. He had to get his phone to Eva to see if she could pull more information off the device. He smiled, waved, and started for the door. He was nearly there before he spotted the wipes intended to keep the equipment clean. He hesitated but then gave in to the need to clean his sweat off the elliptical. Plucking out one lemon-scented disposable cloth, he wiped the handles, tossed the wipe on his way out the door, and dialed Eva’s phone as he rushed to the locker room to grab his bag.

  “Are you and Holly still at the office?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t leave. I have something for you. See you in about fifteen.”

  After ending the call, he tucked his phone into the deep pocket of his bag. He didn’t need to run up to the condo; he had his car keys with his other belongings. Lifting his arm just a few inches, he sniffed his pits to make sure he didn’t stink. He still smelled like the Acqua di Parma Colonia Club he’d splashed
on earlier in the day. The hints of lavender and citrus had faded but still overwhelmed any chemical scents from work or release of hormones from his mini-exercise routine.

  He started whistling an old Prince tune as he silently congratulated himself on a job well done. He was about to reach out to the locker room door when it slammed open. The door cracked against his face, smashing his nose before he had a chance to lift his hand in a defensive measure.

  His cartilage made a crunch sound as bright white starbursts filled his eyes. He diagnosed his injury as a nasal fracture before he even looked up. When he did, he groaned, anticipating the next hit moments before the door smacked his face again.

  This time he had his hand over his face, but that didn’t stop the pain from shooting through him. He stumbled back, closed his eyes, and dropped to his knees. Warm fluid filled his palm. He didn’t have to check. He knew it was blood.

  Before he could confront whoever was on the other side of the door for breaking his nose, he was shoved onto his side and patted down, and then his bag was snatched from his hand. The door clicked closed behind his attacker. Blinking hard, Josh looked up, trying to assess what had just happened.

  10

  Eva was going to kill Josh. She was going to wrap her fingers around that long neck of his and squeeze until there was no life left in him. She’d told him this was dangerous. When he hadn’t shown up like he’d promised and then hadn’t answered her texts or calls, she and Holly had rushed to the condo to find him leaning over the bathroom sink, his face swollen and bruised as he tried to wash away dried blood.

  Damn it. She’d told him a hundred times he couldn’t take care of himself. She’d told Holly they were putting him in harm’s way. And there he sat at the dining room table with his face bashed in as Holly examined his injury. She’d done two tours in the Army, and knew plenty of first aid, but not enough to be dealing with whatever was going on with Josh’s quickly distorting face.

  “I’m taking him to the ER,” Eva said.

 

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