Chapter 5

 

I pulled alongside the construction zone at the Hog. A large section had already been taped off by the police. In the center sat a mound of excavated dirt with a limb protruding from the top. My stomach turned in response.

With a curse, I turned off the car and walked over to Rand. The crunching gravel under my feet alerted him to my presence. However, he chose to ignore the sound and me and continued to look out over the grounds, watching the police warily.

I knew better than to talk. Instead, I stood quietly out of arm’s reach and watched as the forensic team took over.

Photos were snapped from every angle. Soil samples labeled. Measurements taken. The grounds thoroughly analyzed. And still, Rand didn’t say a word. I wondered if he hadn’t heard my approach and I was just standing here like a ninny.

Unsure if I should sneak away or clear my throat, he finally said, “This could ruin me.”

“Ruin you? How?”

He slowly turned, his narrowed eyes holding me in place. “I put every penny I had into this. It’s now a murder scene.”

“They’ll clean it up and we’ll pave over.”

You were supposed to clean it up.”

“You left me with three senior citizens. We don’t know how to dispose of dead bodies.”

“Then you should have called me.”

“And have you yell at us again?” I fisted a hand on my hip. “What would you have done?”

“I don’t know. My bar will be tainted before it’s even built.”

I waved off his concern. “It’s a biker bar, not a ladies’ club.”

His jaw tightened, making it twitch. “Mars, this is serious.”

“I know. But this isn’t the time to worry.” I looked over the ripped-apart lot, police poking into the freshly churned dirt pile. “Right now we have Ida to consider.”

“I don’t give a damn about Ida.”

“I know, but I have a favor to ask. Can you leave out her name if the police question you?”

“Why should I?”

“Ida needs time. And it’d be an easier blow for Hank and Jack if the news came out slowly rather than all at once. It’s hard to digest. Anyway, there’s no sense for you to be in the middle of all this. Just play dumb and I promise to make this right.”

“How?”

“Well, I can’t do anything for Ida, but I can spin this mess into something more palatable when we open. I always had to put out fires as an events coordinator. I’m sure I can think of something for this . . . situation.”

His jaw still twitched, but he finally gave a sharp nod and held out his hand to shake on it. As soon as we clasped hands, I realized it was a mistake. He yanked me forward so I had to tilt my head back to look at him.

“You better make good on your word.”

“We really need to get you signed up for an employee-management course.”

His twitchy jaw muscles convulsed once more before he pushed away.

“I said I promise. I’ll keep my word. Don’t worry about bad publicity. I can flip it to work for us.”

“Then you can start now,” he replied, nodding over to the news van that was pulling into the lot.

Crap.

 

* * *

 

“How did it go with Rand?” Mrs. Janowski asked as soon as she opened the front door to let me in.

Stepping inside, I saw the ladies were gathered, plus two extra. Kym and Aaron.

Kym quickly stood, as if she were hoping for an escape route. “I just came over to tell Mrs. J and the others the good news. Aaron and I should be leaving now. You all have a lot to discuss.” She walked over and hugged me to her, whispering, “I’m leaving this one all to you. Come over for drinks tomorrow. I’ll make hot cider.”

I nodded.

Kym straightened. “Good luck.” With a tilt of her head, she cued Aaron that it was time to go.

“But I didn’t even say hi to Mars yet.”

“I’ll come over and visit tomorrow,” I said.

“In the afternoon? Remember, I’m in school now so I don’t get home until four.”

“I’ll make sure to be there.”

“Okay,” he said, trotting out the door, his unruly dark hair shifting as a blast of wind caught it. “Bye,” he called to Mrs. Janowski. “Thank you for the cookies. They’re better than Mom’s.”

“Aaron!” Kym scolded.

“It’s nothing personal,” he said, his palms up signaling truce. “You make them with applesauce and other weird stuff. How could any cookie not be better?”

Mrs. Janowski smiled and waved as the two walked down the sidewalk, threads of the cookie debate lingering in the gusting wind. Once they were safely in their car, she closed the door. “Let’s start the meeting.”

“What meeting?” I asked.

“The Fearsome Foursome.”

“Don’t you mean the Fearsome Threesome since Ida is . . . Well, she’s out of town for the moment.”

“Fearsome Threesome? That doesn’t even sound right,” Mrs. Janowski said.

“Sounds rather kinky to me.” Sylvia smiled.

Edna pressed a hand to her heart. “Sylvia!”

“Anyway, sit down,” Mrs. Janowski insisted. “You’re the new recruit.”

“New recruit?” I backed away. “There’s no need. We have Ida to think about, not your new club.”

“She’s the reason we’re forging ahead. I had an epiphany today. The Fearsome Foursome was created to help those in need. Ida is now our client.”

Edna pulled a shirt out of an open cardboard box. “It was for Ida, so it might be a tad too big.”

The T-shirt she raised wasn’t too bad considering their past creations. The black shirt with a number four in the center was surrounded by flames. It was rather eye-catching and almost looked like a superhero logo.

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Mrs. Janowski smiled at the shirt. “Aaron came up with the design.”

“He did a good job,” I said. “But I thought we were letting Ida lay low without our interference.”

“We are,” Mrs. Janowski said. “But the girls and I have been talking. We can’t see Ida casually whacking this guy and then burying him. There has to be more to the story, and we’re going to find out what that story is.”

“The only person who’d know what happened is Ida, and she’s gone.”

“She’s not the only person.”

“Then who?”

Mrs. Janowski turned to Sylvia. “Get out that envelope Aaron slipped you.”

“Mrs. J, tell me you didn’t coerce Aaron into helping you. You know how hard it was on Kym the last time.”

She waved off my concerns. “This time the guy is dead. What could possibly go wrong?”

 

* * *

 

Footsteps on the stairs alerted me. It was past midnight, and Brett was finally home. I shoved the Fearsome Foursome shirt under my pillow a mere second before he entered the bedroom.

“Hey, sweet thing,” he murmured softly, a smile appearing. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

“I waited up.” Truth was, I couldn’t sleep. “I’ve missed you these past days.”

“And nights.” He peeled off his soft blue T-shirt, revealing a physique that I was content to stare at. After tossing off his pants, he crawled into bed next to me. “I’ve missed you too. Come here.” He lay flat on his back, pulling me into him. “How was your day?”

“Fine.” The response was automatic. It had been anything but fine. However, I didn’t want to talk about it, not in the middle of the night when I was finally able to curl up against Brett. “How was your day?”

“Good, but the new guy needed more training than what I’d anticipated.”

“Is that why you’re home late?”

“Yes. You got my message, right?”

“What message?”

“I asked Emily to call you and let you know.”

“She didn’t. But you should know she wouldn’t.”

Brett sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother. She won’t listen.”

His fingers threaded through my hair as he brushed it back. “Thank you for being patient. I know she’s a bit difficult, but she was Eve’s friend and she’s had a rough life.”

I kept quiet. I didn’t understand what drove him to play hero to a brat, but right now it wasn’t something I wanted to contemplate.

He kissed the top of my head and pulled the covers snuggly around us. “You’re right. The nights have gotten colder.”

“This is just the beginning. By January your Texan blood will be ice.”

“That cold?”

I nodded, my cheek brushing against his chest. “I might have to get out the electric blanket, after all.”

“No need to waste electricity when I can solve the problem.”

“Then you might want to start,” I said, brushing icicle toes against him. He jumped at contact.

With the barest effort on his part, I was flipped onto my back with him leaning over me, his face half hidden in the shadows, the other half bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, making his brown eyes turn onyx.

Brett leaned in, teasing his lips against mine as he playfully tested my patience. I lifted my hand to trail my fingers along his side, following the muscles as they rippled. And just as he was about to deepen the kiss, he stopped.

“Mars, what’s under your pillow?”

“Nothing.”

He leaned back. “There’s something there. It feels like cloth, but not the sheets.”

“It’s nothing. Wouldn’t you rather kiss me?”

The war that played on his face was brief and not at all good for my ego. But I should have known Brett couldn’t resist a mystery. He and Mrs. Janowski were a lot alike in that respect.

That thought scared me.

“What are you hiding?”

“It’s not hiding, it’s just . . .”

“Just what?”

“I need you to be Brett right now.”

“I am Brett. What are you talking about?”

“You’ll go into cop mode.”

“You’re scaring me. What’s going on?” He sat up.

“It’s nothing. I just don’t want to talk about it. Not right now.”

“Mars, it’s not nothing. I can tell from your voice. Either you show me what’s under your pillow or I’m taking it.” When I didn’t say anything, he added, “You know I only want to help. I love you.”

“I know. I love you too. But I know you’ll overreact.”

“I promise I won’t.”

Since it wasn’t a life-threatening situation, I thought he might be able to keep his promise. Taking the shirt from under my pillow, I tossed it at him.

“What’s this?”

“A shirt.”

“Mars, I’m trying to stay calm as promised, but this isn’t helping.”

“It’s Mrs. J’s latest club. The Fearsome Foursome.”

“You told me about that. You were happy because it didn’t involve you.”

“Now I’m involved.”

“Why?” He leaned back against the headboard.

“Ida is out of commission for a while and Mrs. J needs help tracking a few leads. I agreed because you know how much trouble they can get into under Mrs. J’s leadership.”

“What kind of leads?”

“Just a few questions to a few people.”

He studied me for a moment. “You’re leaving something out.”

“Nothing significant.”

“I can tell when you lie.”

Why did he have to be so good at ferreting out the truth? It was very inconvenient and quite annoying when he used his cop skills against me.

“It’s not that I’m lying,” I said. “It’s just that you have other things to worry about. This is a minor hiccup that the girls and I can manage on our own.”

“Will you tell me if it becomes a major hiccup?”

“Of course.”

He nodded and lay back down, coaxing me to his side. Stroking my arm, he said, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Within a few seconds, his hand stopped. It grew heavy as his breathing slowed into a slumbering rhythm. I was tempted to wake him but remembered he didn’t sleep the night before and had to be exhausted, which is probably why he decided arguing with me wasn’t worth the effort.

If only I had hidden the shirt better.

 

* * *

 

A mug of coffee was poised at my lips as I breathed in the scent, ready to drink its fortifying liquid when someone pounded on my front door. Jumping at the unexpected sound, coffee sloshed down my chin, neck, and shirt.

“Dammit!”

Mrs. Janowski burst through the door. “Oh good, you’re awake.” She bustled over to the television and turned it on. “Hopefully we didn’t miss anything.”

Before I could mount an argument, a commercial ended, revealing an anchor sitting behind a desk looking very official and just a little too excited.

“If you’re just joining us,” the perky anchor said, “we have received word that the former owner of the notorious biker bar known by locals as the Hog has just been called in for questioning. A body was recently discovered by construction workers. No word yet on whether he is a suspect at this time. Details of the victim have not been released. The current owner of the Hog declined to be interviewed.”

A video of Rand rolled. He stood on the Hog’s lot, cameras surrounding him. “You want a statement?” he barked. “Get off my beeeeeep property!”

Lovely.

The anchor returned on screen, frowning. “We will monitor this situation closely and will report as the story develops.” She turned to face a side camera. “In other news, it’s getting cold. Brrrr! What’s in store for us, Leon?”

Mrs. Janowski turned off the television. “The investigators are moving quicker than I anticipated.”

“Poor Hank. He must be beside himself.” I dabbed my shirt with a napkin, but it didn’t seem to help. I’d have to change before leaving. “Do you think they’ll question Jack too?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure if the investigators know how long ago this happened. Jack might have only been an infant at the time.” Mrs. Janowski walked to the door and opened it. “The ladies are coming over in an hour. We’ll continue our own investigation then. You know what to do.”

“Yes,” I sighed. “I’ll be over after I meet with Rand. From our last couple of conversations, it should only take five minutes until he bites my head off.”

“Good. See you soon.”