ELEVEN

Stone

“I know you’re going to have trouble believing me, but Alice Mudd is the bee’s knees. And . . .” Bethany, who always did have a colorful way of saying things, leaned in. She glanced around at me, Harper and Red. “I’m pretty sure she’s doing the nasty with Old Buck.”

“I believe it. I’ve seen them together a couple of times.” Red nodded.

Harper’s eyes widened. “Really? Their combined ages are like close to two hundred.”

“Hey, I hope to still be having sex when I’m close to a hundred,” I said.

Harper raised a brow. “Good to know.”

“Anyway, I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. I need to get home. Brandon should be there waiting for me by now.”

“I’m going to head home too,” Red said. “Thanks for an unexpectedly fun evening, Harper. Sorry we didn’t get any information about your missing signs.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too. See you both tomorrow.” Harper wiggled her fingers in a wave.

Red and Bethany went out the back door as I turned to Harper. “That’s what this madness tonight was all about? Those signs?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You’re not even running anymore,” I pointed out.

“That doesn’t make it okay that someone stole them.” She planted a hand on her hip.

“You’re right. It doesn’t,” I conceded.

I wasn’t the smartest man in town, but I was far from stupid and there was no way I was going to contradict Harper now. I ran my hands up and down her arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Why don’t you go on upstairs. Get comfortable. I’ll help Agnes finish cleaning up down here then meet you upstairs in bed.”

“Uh, that sounds good. These boots are starting to hurt. And I want to check the Mudville forum. I haven’t been on there for hours. I have to see what that damn Anonymous is up to.”

At that very pointed confirmation that Harper was completely obsessed with my posts on that damn forum, I donned my best poker face.

I drew in a breath and forced a smile I didn’t feel. “Okay.”

In contrast, Harper’s smile looked completely genuine as she squeezed me around the middle. “Thank you, baby. You’re the best. I’ll give you a big thank you when you get upstairs.”

“Sounds good.” If only I’d be able to enjoy her thanks without guilt.

Harper’s grin was wide as she delivered a big air kiss to me before sashaying her way across the room and up the stairs. I could see the second martini had hit her hard.

Her having that third one was probably a horrendously bad idea.

I figured she’d be snoring by the time I got upstairs, which might be for the best since the last thing I wanted to do was talk more about my forum alter ego.

Of course, that would mean I’d miss out on the sex she’d just promised me, but for my own sanity that was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

I helped Agnes with the dishes and clean up, and then headed upstairs a little over an hour later.

Harper, as predicted, was sleeping. Snoring adorably, curled up on top of the comforter, but under her favorite throw.

Next to her on the bed was the laptop, open, the screen glowing bright in the dimly lit room.

I walked slowly toward the bed, attempting to be quiet so the creaky old floor didn’t wake her.

When I got close enough, I reached out and grabbed the laptop. I carried it to the desk I’d never seen her sit at and set down the computer. I was about to flip the lid closed when I noticed the title of the document open on the screen. Title TBD 

Hmm. Had she actually finally started her new book?

That was very good news. I’d seen what the stress of a deadline could do to her. And, as her boyfriend, to me too. Not to mention Agnes. We’d all learned to walk on eggs when Harper was up against a deadline.

Honestly, I was impressed she’d started the new book in the middle of her running my election campaign, and in between her stalking the Mudville forum.

My girl always had been a go-getter. Although I had to think her trying to work tonight after drinking all those martinis might not have been the greatest idea. It was for the best she’d fallen asleep.

I angled the screen and started to skim what she’d written.

The first sentence had me frowning. The second paragraph had my eyes opening wide. And by the end of the first chapter I was honesty starting to get a little scared.

I glanced at the woman looking so sweet on the bed, then back at the laptop.

Was this what was going on in that head of hers? Homicide? Torture?

I thought after two years of being together, Harper couldn’t do much to surprise me anymore. Well, except for demanding I run for mayor. That had been a shocker. But besides that, I’d thought I had her all figured out.

Now I had to wonder. Did I know her at all? More importantly, should I be worried?

As I was pondering that, Harper stirred on the bed. She uncurled herself from the ball, straightened out her legs and rolled over onto her back.

She spotted me and stretched in a long slow fluid motion just like one of the barn cats.

“Hi,” she said, her voice sounding sleepy and a bit raspy.

“Hi.” I debated for a few seconds before I got up the nerve to say, “The laptop was open to a document. What are you writing? It didn’t seem like your new book.”

“It is. I finally started it. I came up with a concept I’m excited about and knocked out a whole chapter.”

“Tonight? In the hour I was downstairs cleaning up?” I asked.

“Yup.” Wide awake now, she beamed with pride.

“But it, uh, looks like some sort of a murder mystery.”

“I'm trying something new.” She grinned. “It’s still romance but leaning toward small town contemporary women's fiction.”

“But it looks like your female character is a murderer? So she's bad?”

“She’s not really bad. She only kills people who deserve it.”

“And the guy she kills—the one who is giving online advice to the townspeople—deserves to die?” I asked, trying to sound casual when I felt anything but.

“Well, he did a lot of other bad stuff in the past that she found out about. And he's also the one who stole his enemy’s campaign signs.”

“Wow. You don't stray too far from reality for your plots, do you?”

She giggled. “No. Why should I? Sometimes this town is so messed up, it's better than fiction. Come on. Seriously. I couldn’t make up some of the stuff that happens around here.”

“I thought you liked living in Mudville.”

“I do. There's a very fine line between love and hate. You know that, baby. But not all the secrets this town is hiding are bad. Did you know that Dee and Agnes knew Gloria Steinem? Or that Dee worked with Ruth Bader Ginsberg?”

“Uh, no. I didn’t.”

“It’s pretty amazing.”

Harper looked so excited I decided I’d better google Gloria Steinem later.

“Uh, but back to the book. Are your readers going to be okay with you changing things up so much? I mean it’s about a woman who kills a bunch of the men in town.”

“Yes, it is. But the killer is the antagonist. The first chapter is a prologue to set the scene. The heroine I’m going to introduce in the next chapter is an amateur sleuth who will investigate and solve the murders.”

“Oh. Still, the whole concept is a bit dark for you, don’t you think? It’s definitely different than your usual stuff.”

“Maybe a little. It’s not too far from my usual romantic comedy. Just more of a black comedy. Besides, after not having any good ideas for what felt like a month, finally, I got inspired.”

“And what was it, exactly, that inspired you tonight?” I feared I knew the answer.

“All the many and creative ways I imagined killing Anonymous after checking the forum.” She grinned.

I swallowed. My mouth dry I managed to eke out an, “Oh.”

“Come to bed, baby” she purred. Sultry. Enticing.

Any other night I’d have been naked and on top of her already.

Yet here I still stood, next to the laptop with the murder book inspired by Anonymous, all while the incriminating truth that I was the man she wanted to kill bounced around in my brain.

I shook myself out of my own head and reached for the bottom of my T-shirt to pull it over my head.

I’d tell her. One day. Probably. Maybe. But my confession wasn’t going to happen tonight. Not with my girl looking at me the way she was now.

I crawled into bed and got to work trying to drive the memory of that chapter out of both our heads.

Sex with Harper was always good. Tonight it had an edge to it. She was . . . wild. Intense. Different.

When our encounter left me sweaty and exhausted, I had to wonder if it was plotting Anonymous’s death that was responsible for Harper's enthusiasm. 

It was with that disturbing thought that I finally fell to sleep next to Harper with one arm around her and the other wrapped around the covers so she couldn't steal them.

Hours later, I woke in the dark room, cold and half uncovered.

I glanced at the clock and saw it was near dawn.

If I got up now I would have time for coffee and breakfast before starting work. If I closed my eyes again, I wouldn’t wake up for another hour at least and feel like shit having to drag my ass out of bed and rush to the farm.

Decision made, I slipped out of bed and dressed by the glow of the night light. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and was about to slip it into my pocket and kiss Harper goodbye when I noticed the notification on the cell’s display.

It was a notification from the Mudville forum.

Were the nuts on there private messaging their problems to me now? Or had Harper messaged Anonymous to deliver her displeasure in private?

Either way it was clear, I needed to delete my account. That would solve so many problems for me. Mainly, Harper’s issues with Anonymous and my having to confess I was the man behind the account.

Too curious to wait to see who’d contacted me, I opened the message while standing there in the dark next to the bed where Harper still slept.

I frowned when I saw the message was from the local paper, the Mudville Inquisitor.

Some editor wanted to speak with me. Actually, they wanted to meet with the person behind the Anonymous account. Today if possible. In person. Because they had a proposal for me.

Two thoughts hit me. First, what the hell was this about? Second, that I might never know what they wanted because there was no way in hell I was attending that meeting.