Fatal Reunion
Jessica R. Patch
Wrongly accusedWhen her beloved grandmother is almost killed during a home invasion, Piper Kennedy isn’t surprised that she’s a suspect—especially since Luke Ransom is on the case. The handsome detective she once loved thinks she knows more than she’s telling about the attack. And given her crooked past and the heartbreaking way she’d been forced to betray Luke years ago, Piper understands why he doesn’t trust her. But when attempts are made on her life, Luke insists on keeping her safe and finding out who wants her dead. And Piper and Luke soon realise a remorseless criminal will do anything to keep them from the truth…or an unexpected second shot at a future.
WRONGLY ACCUSED
When her beloved grandmother is almost killed during a home invasion, Piper Kennedy isn’t surprised that she’s a suspect—especially since Luke Ransom is on the case. The handsome detective she once loved thinks she knows more than she’s telling about the attack. And given her crooked past and the heartbreaking way she’d been forced to betray Luke years ago, Piper understands why he doesn’t trust her. But when attempts are made on her life, Luke insists on keeping her safe and finding out who wants her dead. And Piper and Luke soon realize a remorseless criminal will do anything to keep them from the truth…or an unexpected second shot at a future.
“Why didn’t you call 9-1-1?” Luke demanded.
Piper almost laughed. “You already think I had something to do with this. I’m on my own.” She clenched her teeth. “Just like I’ve always been.”
Luke’s eyes flashed with pain. “I believe this. And I would never want to see you hurt. Ever.” He pointed to the back door and raised the photo. “I need this guy’s last name.”
“I don’t know it.”
Luke laid his hand on her shoulder again. “I don’t know what his motives were. Mistook you for your friend. Trying to take you out to get to her. To take you both. And that brings us back to your grandmother’s basement and what was hiding down there.”
He didn’t believe she hurt her grandmother or murdered anyone, but it was obvious he thought she had something to do with everything that had happened.
Luke rubbed his stubbly chin. “Don’t go back to Jackson, Piper. We’re not done, and you aren’t safe here. Can you stay somewhere else?”
Piper huffed. “I’m not going anywhere. And by that I mean Memphis or this house.”
Luke worked his jaw. “I don’t like you here alone.”
No one would protect her like she could protect herself. And she didn’t want Luke protecting her…much. It hurt.
JESSICA R. PATCH lives in the mid-South, where she pens inspirational contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels. When she’s not hunched over her laptop or going on adventurous trips in the name of research with willing friends, you can find her watching way too much Netflix with her family and collecting recipes to amazing dishes she’ll probably never cook. To learn more about Jessica, please visit her at jessicarpatch.com (http://www.jessicarpatch.com/).
Fatal Reunion
Jessica R. Patch
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Lord’s love never ends; His mercies never stop.
They are new every morning; Lord, Your loyalty is great.
—Lamentations 3:22–23
To my husband, Tim, for loving me like Christ loves the church. I can’t imagine doing life without you; and as you know, I have an immense imagination.
Also, many thanks to:
My agent, Rachel Kent. I wouldn’t be here without your support and encouragement. Thank you for always believing in me.
My editor, Shana Asaro. Thank you for having faith in my writing and making this book even better.
Critique partners who treat my stories as their own and cheer me on: April Gardner, Jill Kemerer, Michelle Massaro and Susan Tuttle. I owe you all so many critiques!
Lastly and most important, Jesus.
For Your glory always. I adore You.
Contents
Cover (#u26187d58-0df9-5f1d-875d-ff1b59144b2c)
Back Cover Text (#u9379f072-341e-5e88-8478-680c7dfa4249)
Introduction (#udd6ee1bd-c33b-57e0-af30-315aa6de0f6c)
About the Author (#u1200cd34-ac98-5a98-a3af-ba7a5df82879)
Title Page (#uc37275ed-7429-5545-a6a0-b8b0a7c29678)
Bible Verse (#ud2e3c260-e134-5c4f-8c17-c0f4ea6bafa2)
Dedication (#ue95560fb-fcd8-5aaf-ac7b-a81ef06fa575)
ONE (#ud1bb7fac-41c5-5d6f-89bd-ae61bfe934b4)
TWO (#u1ef582c0-d3f0-5252-b0fe-42f9c3d96b83)
THREE (#u048c2694-ebb4-5ee7-bd68-780b781369cc)
FOUR (#u57efaae7-1b10-5b9a-9072-91c215d60cf8)
FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
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TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
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EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#ulink_fa5a31f0-5873-52ae-90ae-09ddbcfb3b48)
“Tell me she’s still alive.” Piper Kennedy gripped Harmony’s hand as they rushed down the halls of Baptist Memorial East. The drive from Jackson, Mississippi, to Memphis had been eternal. The thought of losing her grandmother sickened Piper. Not Mama Jean. “This is all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault. I knew you’d think that. Eventually, you’re going to have to stop looking over your shoulder. It’s over.” Harmony wrapped an arm around Piper as they made their way to the ICU. She’d always been a good friend even when they were up to trouble.
But Piper wasn’t so sure things were over. Chaz Michaels hadn’t been found, and hadn’t turned up, since that last job they did ten years ago, the day after he’d threatened to kill her if she walked away. Her plans to escape that life had backfired, and the person she’d loved most had been caught in the cross fire. Piper had been waiting—and watching—every day for Chaz’s payback. Looked as though it might have come tonight.
“And yes, she’s alive. I think they’d at least tell me if things went wrong in surgery, family or not.”
Piper’s insides did a gold-medal-worthy gymnastic routine. She should’ve never left Memphis and Mama Jean. Too many regrets. Too much pain.
They turned left down the hall toward the ICU; a wave of antiseptic burned Piper’s nose. “What could Mama Jean have worth stealing?”
Harmony grunted. “I think that boarder of hers may have had something valuable...or drugs.”
Piper frowned. She loved Mama Jean, but she never thought taking in boarders was smart. Guess Mama Jean thought if she couldn’t help her own daughter, she might as well try someone else.
“Maybe. When Mama Jean’s pastor called, he said the guy had been murdered. Looked like a burglary gone wrong.” The irony that she’d been robbed didn’t fall short of Piper’s attention. “I’m just thankful Mama Jean’s life was spared. Maybe they thought she was dead.” Piper shivered.
They reached the nurse’s station. “I’m Piper Kennedy. Here to see Jean Kennedy. I’m her granddaughter.”
“She’s just out of surgery. Have a seat. Coffee in that room to your right. We’ll call you when you can see her.” The nurse smiled and returned to her charts.
“I’ll get us some coffee. You sit tight.” Harmony handed her a magazine. “She’s strong.”
“Harm, you don’t think... I mean...we...”
Harmony gave a confident shake of her head. “Not a chance. We’ve been out of that sick world a long time. We don’t owe or have any money. My bank account will testify to that.” She chuckled. “This is in no way connected to us.”
“But what if Chaz is—”
“He’s not. End of story.” Harmony headed for the coffee room while Piper flipped open the magazine, then chucked it on the table beside the chair. She wrenched her canvas jacket around her. April in Memphis was chilly, and the hospital kept the rooms cold.
A few families huddled together. A man with dark hair and a black leather jacket nosed through a golf magazine. Piper had no family to lean on while she waited. No one but Harmony.
“Piper Kennedy?”
Piper raised her head. “That’s me.”
A nurse motioned for her. “You can see her now.” She led Piper through the halls. “She’s asleep. Surgery went well.”
Doctors shuffled in and out of patient rooms. Monitors beeped, and with every step, Piper’s chest constricted. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“I don’t know details of the circumstances that led to her injuries, but she received a gash on the back of her head. Her arm is broken in two places, and the femur is fractured.”
Piper’s eyes burned. Who would harm an innocent old woman? People she used to call friends. Bile rose in her throat. The nurse opened the door and Piper froze.
Her gaze flitted past Mama Jean to the man standing over her bed. Time had put a few crinkles around his blue eyes. Piper wasn’t close enough to see the flecks of green, but memory told her they’d be there. His hair was a little shorter now and a shade darker with a touch of gray at his temples. Too young to have gray but it worked for him. Piper’s stomach somersaulted, and she forced herself to breathe. Did he still despise her? Think about her?
The suffering in Luke Ransom’s narrowed eyes—from that last night ten years ago—mirrored hers. He straightened his broad shoulders. Large and in charge. As always. Piper switched her attention to Mama Jean, lying feeble in the hospital bed. She shuffled closer and held her limp, wrinkled hand.
Piper should have moved her out of the old East Memphis neighborhood a long time ago. She’d let Mama Jean down. A fresh streak of shame flamed over her. Like a branding iron to her bones.
Luke stepped back and remained silent. Was he assessing Piper or simply giving her a moment to take in the sight before her? If history was any indicator, he was doing both. Always was considerate.
After kissing Mama Jean’s hand and swallowing back the burning lump, she faced him. A flash of something flickered in his eyes, but Piper couldn’t be sure what it was. She fought the urge to take his hand for comfort, as she’d done so many times before.
“What are you doing in here?” Piper needed to control this conversation and hope it didn’t lead to the past.
“I wanted to make sure she was okay. When she wakes, I’ll have questions.” He cleared his throat. “I have a few questions for you.”
“What could you possibly want to ask me? I just got here.” Piper had no answers but a slew of her own questions.
Luke’s throat bobbed, and he swung his gaze across Mama Jean’s face. He’d always been fond of her, and Mama Jean had always adored him.
“Did you know Christopher Baxter?”
Piper shook her head. “Should I?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” His jaw twitched. Was this as uncomfortable for him as it was for her?
She never thought she’d see him again and especially not the second she blew into town. “I never met him. I haven’t been home in...” Dropping her head, Piper focused on the starched white sheet covering Mama Jean’s body. “Since—”
“Fine.” The word was clipped. “Take a look.” Luke held out a photo of a young man, early twenties. Curly brown hair. “Familiar?”
“No,” she rasped. “How did he die?”
“Blunt force trauma to the back of the head. Much like Mama—like your grandmother’s injury. Several bruises indicate he fought back.”
Piper compelled herself to stare Luke in the eye. He didn’t have the clean-shaven look anymore, or maybe he simply hadn’t shaved. The stubble covered the dimple on his chin. “What do you think they were after?”
Luke shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t investigate thefts anymore. I’m here about Christopher’s murder. Homicide.”
Piper nodded once. Guess they’d both abandoned anything to do with theft. “What do you know about him?”
“I know he has a background in armed robbery and that he’s been in rehab twice. But the pastor from Jean’s church says he’s been clean for the last eighteen months. I also know it’s easy to be deceived, so I won’t believe it until I see the tox screen.”
The barb made a direct hit on its intended mark. Piper’s heart. “Will they let me into her house?”
Luke’s eyes softened, then steeled again. “I’ll see what I can do. Where are you staying in case I need to contact you?”
Oh, he was going to love this. “I’m staying with Harmony Fells. I can get you the address.”
A puff of air escaped his nose. He shook his head.
“We’ve changed. And I have nowhere else to go.” Piper had cut ties with everyone else she’d been involved with, and Mama Jean’s house was a crime scene.
“The address?”
Piper rattled it off.
“Nice neighborhood. How does she afford that?” Luke scribbled the address on a notepad. The accusing tone in his voice rang loud and clear.
Piper bristled. “She works for an insurance company, and she has her Realtor’s license. The house was a foreclosure. But I’m pretty sure that has nothing to do with your investigation, and from here on out, I’m only answering questions that pertain to my grandmother’s case.”
Piper caught the corner of Luke’s mouth twitch north, but then he grew serious. “Fair enough. I think your grandma was an innocent bystander. This Baxter guy may have invited trouble. But if not, would there be anything you can think of that might have led to her place being trashed?”
Piper had stewed over that same question during the drive. Was God punishing her for her past? Not that she didn’t deserve it, but Mama Jean was the sweetest woman on the planet, and she loved God, so why would He allow this to happen to her?
“I don’t know. She lives on a fixed income. Doesn’t even have a computer or a cell phone. I can’t imagine someone thinking she had anything of value. It must have something to do with Christopher Baxter.” Mama Jean had blinders when it came to wounded souls. When she was stabilized, they’d have a talk about that, but until then Piper wasn’t going to sit by and let some lowlife get away with hurting her grandmother. And while Christopher Baxter might have been a thug himself, no one deserved to be murdered. She had every intention of finding out who had done this and why.
“The detective in the theft unit told me the basement had been meticulously disarranged. Even a few holes in the walls. Whoever did this was hunting for something, Piper.” He eyed her until she fidgeted. “If they didn’t find what they were after, they could come back.”
And if it was connected to Piper’s previous mistakes, they would. Invisible icy claws scraped down her spine. Was Luke trying to terrify her? It was working.
“If it was something they wanted from Christopher Baxter, they got it. Otherwise, they’d need him alive.” Piper adjusted Mama Jean’s covers and ran her hands over her bony fingers jutting from the cast.
She needed to be alone. She’d barely had time to process being back in Memphis. The fact that Luke Ransom was a foot away was too much to bear. Instead of trusting her all those years ago, he’d believed the worst about her. She’d never got over that pain.
“You may be right. I just hope whatever is going on doesn’t implicate you.” Regret and a hint of accusation laced his voice.
“I would never do anything to hurt Mama Jean, and you know that if you know nothing else.” Piper had half a mind to throttle him right here in the room. To insinuate Piper had anything to do with this—would ever intentionally put Mama Jean at risk... She rubbed her temples, a migraine trying to break through.
“Getting one of your headaches?”
The familiarity between them pushed against her chest. Piper had a sick feeling this was the first of many headaches to come. What if this did have something to do with her former messed-up life?
* * *
Luke might as well have been hit with an atomic bomb. The minute Piper had stepped into the room, he’d imploded. Lost his breath. And hated himself for it. She might have lied about loving him once, but Mama Jean was her world. The one person she refused to disappoint, though if Mama Jean ever found out about Piper’s infractions, it’d send her to her grave. But maybe not. Mama Jean was a strong woman.
Strong like the one standing before him now. Hazel eyes that bordered brown. She didn’t hold the hard edge anymore, but Piper Kennedy radiated tough. And no doubt she was even fiercer than when he’d loved her a decade ago, considering the martial-arts path she’d traveled after leaving Memphis. Despising himself every time, he’d checked up on her throughout the span of ten years.
Piper dropped her hand from her temple and clutched her purse to her side. “Sometimes. When I’m stressed.”
“The theft unit will probably want to ask you some questions, as well.”
“Why? Because you told them about my past?” Her voice invited a challenge.
Luke wouldn’t share her past with a soul. Never had. For her sake and his. He’d put his career in jeopardy over Piper once, and now he was up for a promotion to sergeant. No way would he risk that. “No. Because you’re family. But since you’re bringing it up, you should know if this has anything to do with that, it’ll come out. They’ll look hard at you.”
Her face blanched, and she white-knuckled her purse. “I’m clean.”
“I’m just saying.” She didn’t have an ally in Luke anymore. Not since that night ten years ago when she gave him false information about a burglary, sending him on a wild-goose chase. While they were waiting to bust Chaz—at the wrong location—the real burglary went down and south quick. A woman almost died. And Piper had been right there in the thick of it. Betraying him for a criminal like Michaels.
So why did he want to take her at her word now? Because he wanted to believe the best about her. Always had. He prayed she wasn’t entangled in this.
“I have my own business. My own home. You can dig all you want—you won’t find anything.”
That was what he was banking on. Luke was aware Piper owned a karate dojo in Jackson. That she’d competed in international championships. And won. She’d gone from scrappy to stealth. Beneath the still-raw pangs of betrayal, he hated to admit he was proud of her in that area. Unfortunately, just because her nose seemed clean didn’t mean it was. He refused to let tender feelings for Piper—though unwanted—cloud his judgment on this case and ruin his shot to move up.
“They, Piper, not me. But if his murder leads me back to you, I can’t let it go. Not this time.” He brushed past her and out the door. If Piper had connections to this burglary, and ultimately Christopher Baxter’s death, he wouldn’t be played. Luke had wised up since his rookie days undercover with the theft unit. A pretty face wasn’t always an innocent face.
Piper had proved that.
The moment he’d laid eyes on her, when she was eighteen and he was only twenty-one, a fierce need to protect her gripped him. But he’d always been a protector—a fixer, like Granddad—whether it was a stray cat, a broken bird or a hungry dog. Piper had been broken, wounded—a stray—when they met inside that pool hall. Turned out the one thing Luke should have protected, he’d left vulnerable.
His heart.
Eric Hale, Luke’s partner, stood with a cup of coffee in his hand. “You were in there awhile. Did she wake up?”
Eric had given Luke a few minutes to see Mama Jean. The woman had always cared about him. He’d checked in on her over the years, and she’d promised never to tell Piper. Looked as if she’d kept up her end of the bargain.
“No. Her granddaughter showed up. I asked her a few questions.” Eric had no idea about his connection to Piper, and until he could figure out what to say about her, he’d like to leave it that way.
“She offer anything useful?” Eric finished his coffee, trashed it, then fell into step with Luke as he zipped up his black leather jacket.
“Useful? No.”
“You believe her?”
That was the question. Could he trust her again? Time would tell. “Let’s throw the flashlight on Baxter’s history and see if it lands on her. I’m not ruling her out.”
Eric chuckled. “You really are a hardnose.”
He had Piper to thank for that.
“Must want that sergeant’s promotion bad, huh?”
Luke had worked tirelessly to be where he was. Paid penance every day for his prior mistakes. He wanted this promotion. Needed it. Piper wasn’t going to get in the way this time, but his gut screamed everything about this case would track back to her. And it terrified him because the instinct to defend and shelter her had resurfaced the second she’d marched into Mama Jean’s room. It’d been difficult to keep a tough exterior, but then, he had plenty of old hurts to fuel him.
Luke would do his duty to serve and protect and nothing more. He wouldn’t allow Piper to rob him of his heart again. No getting tangled up with emotions. But as he resolved the issue, a sliver of doubt wiggled like a splinter in his chest.
* * *
“Did I see who I thought I saw?” Harmony asked as she and Piper breezed through the glass entrance doors. The wind picked up Harmony’s shiny blond hair, blowing it in her face.
“I think I should stay the night in the waiting room,” Piper said, ignoring the question.
“Mama Jean is gonna be out cold all night. You need some rest. Come back early. Fresh.”
Harm was right. But there was no way Piper was going to sleep well. Her nerves tingled on edge already, but something else wafted in on the night’s current. She paused and scanned the parking lot. Only a few lit posts dotted the area. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention.
“What’s the matter with you, Pipe?” Harmony paused and followed Piper’s gaze. “You looking for Luke?”
Piper put her arm out to block Harmony. “Something’s off.”
“What do you mean? What did he say to you? Was something stolen?” She removed Piper’s arm from across her middle.
“He’s working homicide now. Investigating Christopher Baxter’s murder.”
Harmony rifled through her purse and plucked her keys. “He know anything?”
“I don’t know.” Piper swallowed; a knot swelled in her abdomen. “I guess I’m just freaking out.”
“So what did he say?”
Slowly, Piper started toward her car, Harmony at her side. “Not much, and I doubt he’d offer any additional information. He thinks I’m involved. Of course.”
“That’s ridiculous and he knows it.” She pointed across the lot. “I’m over there. See you at the house.”
“Okay. Be careful.” Piper watched as Harmony hurried to her car, unlocked the doors and climbed in. When she safely drove away, Piper strode toward her own car. Could Chaz have reemerged and hurt Mama Jean? He was that evil.
Piper pressed the fob on her key ring to unlock the doors to her car. She rounded the hood to the driver’s door.
A shadow leaped from the side of the car, throwing Piper off guard, her bag falling to the ground.
Something heavy struck her thigh, sending a blinding pain up her side, clear to her teeth. She stumbled backward, tripping over the concrete parking bumper, and landed on her backside.
The attacker, dressed in a dark hoodie, mask and gloves, lunged forward. She jumped to her feet, landing a front kick to his chest.
Grunting, he faltered and dropped his weapon.
The tire iron clattered against the asphalt.
Piper gasped. Same weapon used to assault Ellen Strosbergen—the woman nearly killed in that last burglary Piper had been a part of a decade ago.
Her assailant hunkered down and came at her full force, but she dodged and kicked him into the side of the car. He bounced off the back door with a thud, leaving a dent, then grabbed the tire iron and hightailed it through a line of parked cars.
Where was the parking security?
Piper gave chase, weaving through the vehicles. A dark van squealed into the lot, and the shadowy figure hurtled in before speeding away. She rubbed her thigh and fisted her hands to control the shaking. Hobbling back to her car, she scrambled in and locked the doors, heart beating out of her chest.
What to do? Find Luke? She peeled out of the lot. Would he even believe her? No. He wouldn’t. She was on her own.
* * *
Luke ducked under the crime-scene tape and slipped a pair of blue bootees over his shoes while studying the mechanic shop. Eric did the same. So much for getting a solid night’s sleep. Crime never rested, and he wouldn’t have been able to anyway. Piper was back and mixed up in this somehow. A train sounded in the distance. Horns blared and tires squealed over Poplar Avenue, piercing through the chilled night.
A uniform filled him and Eric in on the scene at hand. “Girlfriend said he didn’t come to bed. Found the vic in the bay. His face is pretty mangled.”
Luke followed the officer into the bay, the smell of oil and exhaust wrinkling his nose. A Caucasian male, early thirties, lay in a pool of blood, a stained tire iron beside him. That would definitely rough up a face. Brought back memories of poor Ellen Strosbergen.
It might have been used to bloody the vic’s face. But from what Luke could tell, it wasn’t the cause of death. The man’s head was lying at an odd angle.
“Neck broke?” Eric asked.
“Pretty sure. I’m interested to know which came first, the bludgeoning to the face and head or the snapped neck. Medical examiner on his way?” Luke browsed the area. Two cars raised on jacks, a few tires lying around. Tools in disarray, but not due to someone tossing the place—just seemed business as usual. A few greasy rags dotted the grimy concrete floor.
“Yeah. Crime-scene unit, too,” the officer said.
“Name?”
“Tyson Baroni. Thirty-four. Owns the shop. We called his next of kin. Has a brother that lives in Arlington.”
Tyson Baroni. He was hardly recognizable. Luke’s stomach soured, and he chomped on the inside of his lip. Squatting, he carefully retrieved Baroni’s wallet. A card fell out.
He read the name scrawled across the middle.
God, why now? I’m finally getting beyond it after all this time.
“Whose card is that, Ransom?” Eric asked.
“Piper Kennedy’s. Business card for her dojo in Jackson.”
“The granddaughter from the hospital?” Eric’s eyes held questions.
“Yep.” Piper claimed she wasn’t involved, that she was clean. “I want to talk to the coroner and the girlfriend. Rule her out.” He reached into his jacket pocket and popped two antacids. With skilled martial-arts training, Piper was more than capable of snapping a neck. Was the girlfriend? Dread churned like a frosty tornado.
“What do you think she had in common with him?” Eric stared at the body, squinting.
Everything. “Ten years ago, Baroni ran with Chaz Michaels. A low-life dirtbag who got his jollies burglarizing the elderly who lived in wealthy neighborhoods. He was the wheels.”
“You think he had something to do with the robbery-homicide earlier? How does that link with the granddaughter?”
Luke stretched his neck from one side to the other. “Piper Kennedy was Chaz Michaels’s girlfriend for a while.” And much more. “She and Baroni were friends.”
Eric stroked his thumb across his lower lip. “So, you like Baroni for the robbery and think the Kennedy chick retaliated for knocking her grandmother around?”
Possibly. Whoever was in Mama Jean’s basement had a mission. The question was: Did they accomplish it? Did they find what they were after? And if not, what next?
“Let’s interview the girlfriend, then pay Piper a visit when sun’s up and ask.” Luke had hoped he wouldn’t have to see Piper again—at least not under these circumstances. Where she was concerned, he had a hard time discerning truth.
God, give me the strength to see clearly.
TWO (#ulink_4eb972c0-1391-511e-9038-d2a58a88267b)
“It has to be Chaz. A tire iron? Interesting choice of weapon.” Piper gnawed her thumbnail. Had she made the right decision not calling Luke or the police in general? Her thigh throbbed.
Harmony laid a hand on Piper’s shoulder. “No way. Why now? It makes no sense.”
“He’s come to get even. He has to believe I knew Luke was undercover the whole time.” Which she hadn’t. By the time she found out, she was already in love with Luke. “He blames me for Sly getting caught and going to prison for assaulting Ellen Strosbergen. Or he thinks I took something from the house.”
“Did you?”
“What do you think?” Piper paced the kitchen floor. “I should call the police.”
Harmony sighed. “You said yourself Luke suspects you. Will he believe your story?”
“Probably not.” She had no one to blame but herself for that. She had no concrete evidence that she had even been attacked. Luke might accuse her of making the whole thing up to throw suspicion off her. Call her a liar. Again.
No way was it random. Not after the attack with a tire iron.
Harmony took Piper’s cold cup of tea to the sink and dumped it. “Maybe you should come with me to the Realtors’ conference. Get out of Dodge.”
“And leave Mama Jean? No way. I have to find out who this is.” With or without Luke’s help. Piper rubbed her chilled arm. “Because if Mama Jean saw the attacker, he might come back to finish off what he started. Could be why he came after me tonight—he might think she told me who it was.” Confusion twisted in her chest.
Harmony sank in a kitchen chair. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. But for tonight, I think it’s best if I sleep in your master bedroom. You’ll be safer upstairs. If he comes back, I want to be downstairs where I can hear.”
“You’re scaring me, Pipe.”
“I’m trying to protect you.” Piper was scared, too. And she had no idea what to do, but maybe by morning she’d have a clue. It was after midnight now.
Harmony grabbed Piper’s hand. “I’ll go upstairs. But I don’t suspect either of us will be sleeping.”
There was truth to that. Piper followed Harmony to the master bedroom. “Why do you need this house? It’s huge.”
Harmony switched on the light. “It’s my way of hoping for a family.”
A dream they both shared. But Piper had relationship paralysis. The few men she’d dated, she’d measured against Luke. Every single one came up short.
Hairs prickled the back of Piper’s neck again, as if a presence was in the house. Or outside. Watching. She switched off the light.
“Hey—!”
“Shhh.” Piper peeked out the window that overlooked the backyard and beyond into the woods. “Where does that lead?”
“A creek and then I don’t know. I’ve never taken a jaunt.” Harmony closed the blinds and then flipped on the lamp. “I think we’re safe. And if we aren’t, I’m counting on you being able to take down a grown man.”
Piper could. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t frightened.
Harmony left the room, and Piper hurried and unpacked then threw on a ratty pair of gray sweats and a Shotokan T-shirt with the tiger emblem on the front pocket. She’d been studying Shotokan karate since she was eighteen. Since Luke kicked her out of his life with one word. Run.
At twenty-nine, she’d worked hard and made it to the position of Shihan-Dai—fourth-degree black belt. She was still working toward professor of the art. But no amount of martial arts could fight off the past that seemed to be colliding with her present, choking her.
Piper slid into bed at 12:52 a.m. and stared at the clock until her eyes grew too heavy to hold open.
A creak pulled her from sleep.
Her eyes shot open as a cloth smothered her face.
A sickly sweet smell and taste filled her nose and mouth. She reached for the bulky hand and broke free. She gulped fresh air, but her head spun, and nausea swept over her.
He came at her again.
Couldn’t. Think. Clearly.
Piper punched him in the sternum, cutting off his air supply, and bounded out of bed, but whatever she’d inhaled had weakened her. Grabbing the lamp, she chucked it at him. It crashed into the wall behind the headboard. Barreling forward, the attacker tackled her to the floor near the bathroom. She reached up and grabbed his mask, pulling it from his face.
Not Chaz.
Drawing her knee up, she made contact with his groin, garnering a wail from him and giving her time to wiggle free.
Her head was still fuzzy and pounding, but she scrambled for the door. Needed a weapon. Her phone.
“Piper!” Harmony yelled.
The assailant turned toward the sound of Harmony’s voice and bolted. Piper raced across the bedroom, but she was off balance, shaky.
A door slammed.
Harmony stood midway on the stairs, a bat in hand. “What’s happening?”
Piper ran to the back door and turned the locks, panting. “It wasn’t Chaz.”
“Who wasn’t Chaz?”
“A man. Here. I saw his face.” Piper’s pulse hammered, dizziness flaring. “He put something over my mouth.” The rag. She rushed to the bedroom and retrieved it.
Harmony stood at the threshold. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. Some kind of drug. Glad I wasn’t sound asleep.” Piper bent at the waist, her mouth watering. “Get me a plastic bag for this. I’m gonna be sick.” She scurried to the bathroom.
Harmony returned with the bag as Piper flushed the toilet. She dropped the rag inside the gallon-sized Ziploc.
Piper leaned against the wall, eyes burning. It wasn’t Chaz. But whoever came after her at the hospital wasn’t working alone. Someone drove the van. “Chaz could have sent someone to kidnap me.” He could be outside right now, waiting. Her stomach churned.
“Kidnap! Why?” Harmony paced the bathroom floor.
“Why else drug me?”
“If it was the same guy from the hospital, maybe he wised up and knew he couldn’t take you without evening the playing field.” She froze. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
Piper rinsed her mouth, her vision clearing and nausea subsiding. A few seconds longer and she’d have been out cold. “No. You’re right.”
“I’m not going to that conference, Piper. I can’t leave you.”
Piper’s temple throbbed. “Now more than ever, you need to. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
Harmony’s eyes pooled with tears. “What about you? Will you go to the police now?”
Piper wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear. Whoever was after her wasn’t going to stop.
* * *
Piper sat on Harmony’s bed as she scrambled around in a frenzy trying to pack. It was almost 6:00 a.m. “I have to call Luke. He may not believe me, but...”
“I understand.” Harmony rifled through drawers, tossing random things in the suitcase. “You sure you don’t want me to stay?”
Piper folded what she’d dumped inside. “I’m sure.”
Harmony dug in a top drawer, undergarments falling out. “I don’t even know what I packed. I can’t think straight. This is a bad idea.” Her hands shook as she clawed through the items.
Piper placed her hand over Harmony’s. She had to be strong for her. “Let me. What do you need?”
“A scarf. I don’t even know. Black. Gray. Who cares?” Harmony collapsed on her bed, hands over her face. “I can’t go to a conference and concentrate when I know bad stuff is going down here.”
Piper calmly combed through the scarves and undergarments. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re out of this mess.” She paused. Wait. Something caught her eye, buried under the scarves. “Harmony, this is the guy! The guy in the house!”
Harmony’s face paled, and she grabbed the photos. “Are...are you sure?” She stared at them. “I should’ve burned these.”
“I’m positive. Who is this? Why are you in a photo with him?”
Harmony’s lip quivered, and then her eyes widened. “Oh no.”
“What?” Piper demanded.
“That’s Boone. Pipe, he must have mistaken you for me last night. You were in my bed.”
“But why?” Piper shook her head. Seemed too coincidental with the earlier attack.
Closing her eyes, Harmony groaned. “I dated him for, like, two seconds. Found out he was trouble, and I broke it off. Until now, he’s only called a few times and shown up at work. He was probably trying to scare me quiet, as if I’d ever rat him out.”
“Do you hear yourself? Guys don’t drug their ex-girlfriends to scare them. And rat him out for what?” What in the world was going on here? “We definitely have to call the police.”
Harmony shook her head. “No cops. Not about this.”
“Why?” Piper stared her down. “What did he do?”
“He robbed a convenience store six months ago, and I was with him.” She squeezed her eyes closed and shuddered. “I had no clue he was going to do it. I was in the car, but if I go to the cops with that story—with my past—they’ll never believe I wasn’t intentionally in on it. And you can be sure Boone won’t only come after me—again—he’ll falsely incriminate me. I can’t. You can’t.”
Another headache was forming. Harmony had never attracted a nice guy.
Neither had Piper. Until Luke.
“He’s dangerous, Harm. This wasn’t some scare tactic to shut you up.”
“I’m sorry.” Harmony hugged her. “Give me to Monday to figure it out. I’m scared with our history and Luke pointed on us like a bloodhound. Please, Piper, don’t do anything for now. I mean, if you wanna call about what happened to you at the hospital, fine. But nothing about Boone. I just...can’t.”
Piper understood the fear. The confusion. “Go to Vegas, and on Monday when you get back, we gotta talk seriously about this guy.”
“I’m so stupid!” Harmony wiped tears with the back of her hand. “Come with me.”
“Mama Jean needs me. And I can’t run.” She helped carry Harmony’s luggage outside and lobbed it in the backseat. “In fact, I’m heading that way after you leave.”
Harmony slid into the driver’s seat. “How did he get in?”
“I don’t know. We know some tricks, so he probably does, too.” When Harmony left, Piper would check entry points.
“Text and let me know how she’s doing. You sure I shouldn’t stay?”
“Go.”
“It’s gonna be okay. It has to be, right?”
“Don’t worry.” Easier said than done. Could she really keep this from the police? Would her conscience let her?
Harmony drove off, and Piper searched, finding scuffs and splintered wood on the back door, which told the tale.
If nothing else, Harmony was getting a security system installed ASAP. If the ex was involved in burglaries and robberies, he could have ties to Chaz. They could be working together. A nagging feeling that her past had returned with a vengeance plagued her.
The doorbell rang.
Piper peeked through the hole. Great. Luke and the guy she saw at the hospital with dark hair and a leather jacket. Her throat tightened as she opened the door. “Is it Mama Jean?”
“No,” Luke reassured her. For a moment his features softened with his voice, but then he hardened his jaw.
Piper eyed him. “So what’s going on?” Did someone witness the attack at the hospital and tell him?
“Can we come in?” Luke didn’t wait to be welcomed and stepped inside.
“Sure.” Swinging her arm out, Piper motioned for the other detective to enter. “Do you want coffee?”
“Since when do you drink coffee?” Luke asked, and he flinched when his partner gave him a quizzical expression. Didn’t seem as though he’d let the other detective in on their connection to each other. Couldn’t blame him.
“Do you want any or not?” Patience wasn’t a virtue, and Luke had made it clear last night there was nothing but a case between them. So why make with the pleasantries?
“I’d like a cup.” His partner extended his hand. “Detective Hale.”
Piper shook his hand and sized him up. About two inches shorter than Luke, putting him at six-one. Lush, pitch-black hair, kind brown eyes. Easy smile.
“Piper Kennedy.” She grabbed a mug from the cabinet and started pouring Detective Hale a cup. “Luke? I mean, Detective Ransom?”
Luke shook his head, and she looked at Detective Hale. “Cream? Sugar?”
“Black, thanks.”
She handed him his cup and sat at the table. “Any news on Christopher Baxter? He have anything to do with the break-in?”
Luke glanced at his partner. “This is about a new case. Tyson Baroni was murdered.” Luke scrutinized her as if waiting for her to admit guilt.
“How?”
Luke cracked his knuckles. “ME says his neck was broken. Right after someone mangled him with a tire iron. You know anyone who could do that? Snap a man’s neck?”
A tire iron. Piper’s stomach nose-dived, but the accusation flared hot.
She inched out of her chair, narrowing her eyes. She knew he’d never believe her. “Get out.”
“I’m just asking a question. Why so defensive?”
Eric put his cup on the table and studied them.
“You’re not asking me a question. You’re implying. Could I snap a man’s neck?” She placed her hands on the table and leaned forward. “Yes,” she hissed. “Would I ever? No.”
Did he really believe she could kill someone?
“When is the last time you saw Tyson Baroni?” Eric interrupted their standoff and Piper slowly turned her head in his direction.
“I haven’t seen or talked to Tyson in a decade.” Why would she?
Disappointment filtered through Luke’s eyes and he sighed. “Then why did he have your business card in his pocket, and why were your prints on it?”
The air deflated from Piper’s lungs. How did Tyson get her business card? “He’s never been to the dojo, at least not that I’ve noticed. And I haven’t seen him here. I came straight to the hospital, and I need to be there now or I’m going to miss visiting hours.”
Luke tightened his lips, his eyes impassive. No trust in them whatsoever. Could she expect him to trust her after the lies she’d told years ago? Lies to protect him, but he’d never once come to that conclusion. Still smarted.
“I am sorry about that, Miss Kennedy,” Detective Hale said. “But you can see this presents a problem. Straighten out the confusion for us.”
“I can’t!” Piper threw her hands in the air. “I’m as confused as you.” The past was back. Blaring everywhere she turned. This couldn’t be a coincidence, but how would anyone know she was in town? Seemed as though she’d been here just long enough to be framed for murder and attacked twice. The reality pushed her to her seat.
“Piper?” Luke laid a hand on her shoulder. “What is it?” The warmth seeped into her bones. She’d missed his touch. His comfort. His strength.
“Nothing. It’s...nothing.” If only that were true.
“Where were you last night after you left the hospital?” Detective Hale asked.
Luke folded his arms over his chest. She buckled under his intense gaze.
“I didn’t kill Tyson. I don’t even know where he lives.”
“He lived in a small apartment attached to his shop in Midtown. And that’s where we found him.” Luke drew his notepad out. “If you would just tell us the truth, it would help.”
The truth? Harmony was going to go ballistic, but Piper had no choice. They could believe her or not. “Fine. The truth is...”
Luke scooted his chair closer to hers, his knees touching Piper’s.
“The truth is...?” Luke leaned down, forcing her to make eye contact.
“Something happened in the hospital parking lot. And then...here.”
Luke’s face grew taut—the protective expression she’d seen hundreds of times. “What happened, Piper?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, doubted he’d believe her, but told him everything.
“What!” Luke bulleted to the back door and studied the scuffs. Would he think she put them there herself? “Why didn’t you call me?” He turned on her, grabbed her shoulders, eyes brimming with emotion she hoped was concern and care. “You could have been killed!”
“I didn’t have your number.”
“You could have asked for me at the precinct. I would have come. Immediately.”
Piper wanted to collapse in his arms and cry. But she didn’t.
Detective Hale stood. “Can I have a look at that rag?”
Piper wiggled free of Luke’s gentle but firm grasp and retrieved the bag and photo from Harmony’s room. To know he still cared whether she lived or died meant everything. She handed Detective Hale the bag. He opened it and took a whiff.
“Chloroform, maybe. Or antifreeze.”
She handed Luke the photo of Boone and Harmony. “This is the guy.”
He kneaded the back of his neck. “You should have called 9-1-1, Piper. I need to talk to Harmony.”
“You can call, but you’ll get voice mail. Her flight already left.” She gave him her number.
“Why didn’t you call 9-1-1?” Luke studied the photo.
Piper almost laughed. “You already think I had something to do with this. I’m on my own.” She clenched her teeth. “Just like I’ve always been.”
Luke’s eyes flashed with torment. “I believe this. And I would never want to see you harmed. Ever.” He pointed to the back door and raised the photo. “I need this guy’s last name.”
“I don’t know it.”
Luke laid his hand on her shoulder again. “I don’t know what his motives were. Mistook you for Harmony. Trying to take you out to get to her. To take you both.” He shrugged. “But the guy at the hospital... I don’t think it was this Boone character. Why go after you there?”
Good question. “Two isolated events? Maybe Chaz is back, and he and Boone are in cahoots?” She had no clue which it was, but her gut said Chaz was in the thick of it.
“It’s possible, and that brings us back to Mama Jean’s basement and what was hiding down there.”
He still thought she had something to do with this, if even indirectly. Luke rubbed his stubbly chin. “Don’t go back to Jackson, Piper. We’re not done, and you aren’t safe here. Can you stay somewhere else?”
Piper folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not going anywhere. And by that I mean Memphis or this house.”
Luke worked his jaw. “I don’t like you here alone.”
“I don’t care what you like or don’t like. I’m still standing.” No one would protect her like she could protect herself. And she didn’t want Luke protecting her—much. It hurt.
Luke pinched the bridge of his nose, nostrils flaring. “You are so stinking stubborn.”
“I’m not leaving.” She jutted out her chin.
“Let me drive you to the hospital.”
“No.” She wasn’t going to rely on Luke. She couldn’t.
Looking at Detective Hale, Luke shook his head. “I don’t know what to do with her.”
Detective Hale scratched his head. “We could kick you out and call this a crime scene, as it is, and force you to leave.”
“I like that idea,” Luke said.
“Get real. Boone’s prints are probably all over this place. They dated. You’re both being jerks.”
“Technically, we’re doing our jobs.” Eric smirked. “But okay.”
Luke frowned, and they seemed to carry on a silent conversation.
Detective Hale left them at the door. Luke turned to her, his voice quiet. “Baroni had your card. Somehow you’re connected. And I hate leaving you alone.”
“You left me on my own ten years ago. Now shouldn’t be any different.” Piper dared him to respond.
Luke opened his mouth to say something else, then clammed up. A wave of grief splashed across his face. “You’re right about prints. Doesn’t mean I won’t have them come out anyway. You’re out of the house, at least for a while today. Call if you need to.” He handed her his card then phoned the crime unit. “I’ll wait outside until they get here. But you’re free to go see Mama Jean.”
His protectiveness sent a skitter into her pulse. Luke closed the door behind him and she beelined it to her cell to call Braxton, one of her karate instructors.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey, Piper. How’s your grandma?”
“Stable.” She snatched her car keys. “Hey, quick question. Did anyone by the name of Tyson Baroni come into the dojo recently? About five foot ten, a ginger with freckles.”
“Doesn’t sound familiar.”
“If I send a picture, could you tell me if you’d seen him?” She snagged a banana and hurried to the front door.
“Probably. Is everything okay?” Concern laced Braxton’s voice.
“Yeah. Just checking on something. Thanks.” She hung up and stepped onto the stoop. Luke and Detective Hale were in the driveway staring at her car along with two other officers.
“What’s going on?” Piper asked and slowed her pace.
They split as if drawing open a curtain, revealing center stage. Piper’s car had been keyed and the tires slashed.
Piper thrust back her head and inwardly groaned. “I’m gonna need a lift after all.”
* * *
Luke opened the back door to their Dodge Durango and Piper slid inside. She seemed calm and collected for a woman who’d been victimized, twice. Hearing that someone had put his hands on her, hurt her, sent a wave of hysteria into his bones, then infuriated him. Had Chaz come out of hiding? If so, he must have a solid reason. One that Piper refused to cough up.
His gruff questioning had got him nowhere. In fact, it had made things worse. He couldn’t help it. Old bitter feelings had risen along with the impulse to protect and make sure she was cared for. And she wouldn’t leave the house. He couldn’t bring her to his. Frustration knotted his neck muscles.
“I’m sorry about your car, Piper. I can have someone tow and fix it for a decent price.” Offering her an olive branch was all he knew to do without getting too close.
Surprise flittered in her eyes. “Thanks, Luke.”
“I didn’t even notice it driving up.” He’d been a walking disaster, stewing and hoping she wasn’t directly linked.
Eric had a million questions, but surely he’d figure out what Luke already knew. Piper wasn’t going to cooperate if she didn’t want to.
“Hopefully, we’ll get Chaz’s prints off that door.”
“Doubt it,” Piper said, and they hit the interstate, the car charged with deafening silence. What was he supposed to do? Make small talk?
“How’s the dojo?” Guess he was.
“Growing. I’m thinking about leasing a building for a second location. Closer to Madison.” She picked at her fingernails and fisted her hands. A knee bobbed. He’d made her uncomfortable. Or maybe she was anxious to get to Mama Jean. Probably both. She was too stubborn to be scared. What could he do to make her leave Harmony’s house?
Her sweet jasmine scent wafted through the car, reminding him of times when he’d held her close, danced with her at the pool hall, kissed her good-night.
“Do you have a picture of Tyson?”
Luke frowned. “Why?”
“I want to send it to Braxton—he’s a sensei in my dojo. See if Tyson came by at some point. I called him after you stepped outside. He says no one matching that description visited, but after ten years, who knows how much Tyson has changed. Not that I wouldn’t recognize you a mile away, but I see some differences.”
Luke glanced back. “Me, too.” Softer face. More athletic build. Her hair was still all one length but longer. The dimple that rested under her left eye on her cheekbone seemed deeper.
“I don’t have any gray.” She smirked.
He touched his temples. “They say it’s a sign of wisdom.”
Detective Hale snorted. “Not in your case.”
“I don’t know. I think compared to, say, a decade ago, I’ve wised up some. How about you, Piper?” He didn’t mean to be antagonistic, but the teasing and friendliness was harder than he’d anticipated.
“I have.”
“So, tell me about your dojo,” Detective Hale said as he eased onto I-240. “You been in competitions?”
“Not as often as I used to. I run a program for troubled teenagers. Martial arts changed my life. Gave me the confidence and strength I needed.”
“I’ve found, in my life, God has been my source of confidence and strength. But hey, good for you.” Detective Hale glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled. “I think discipline is smart for unruly teenagers, and it gets them off the street.”
Luke didn’t say anything. God was part of his life, too, and right now Luke was curious to know what the Almighty was up to. He called and had the precinct send a photo of Tyson Baroni. “Give me your number, Piper. I’ll send this over.”
She gave it to him and then texted the photo to her friend at the dojo.
A few minutes later, Piper sighed. “Braxton doesn’t recognize him.”
“Then how did he get your business card?”
Piper shook her head. “I wish I knew. I guess he could have come in and taken one from the desk without anyone seeing.”
“Your prints are on them.”
“Well, yeah. I have to touch them to put them in the card holder.” She pinched her lips as if she were holding something back she’d like to say.
“Not all of them.” Luke threw her a pointed look. “And why would he drive all the way to Jackson just to get your business card?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” She rubbed her temple again and gawked at the passing traffic.
Eric pulled up to the doors at the hospital. “I hope your grandma is feeling better.”
“Thanks. I can catch a cab home or something.”
Luke opened his door and stepped out. “I’ll walk you in.”
“Again, I can take care of myself.”
“I believe you.” He ignored the hostility and escorted her inside. “Piper, Eric doesn’t know about our previous relationship. He’s going to ask, though. I’ll tell him the bare essentials.”
“That we loved each other once?” Behind her eyes, a storm brewed. Like the one gathering in him.
At one time he had loved her. Bought a ring and everything. But she’d ruined it when she chose a criminal over him, when she’d lied to him and put him between a rock and hard place, when she’d destroyed everything they’d meant to each other with her blatant deceit. He thought he’d got over it, but the crushing sensation he was experiencing proved the opposite. “We? You mean me. I loved you once. I’m not sure what to call what you did.” His tone blasted more heat than he’d intended.
She lowered her head. “I need to see about Mama Jean.” She brushed past him. He ought to chase her down and apologize, but he stood firm as she practically trampled a nurse to get away.
He met the questioning eyes of Eric when he slumped into the passenger seat. “Okay, so we knew each other.”
Eric continued to stare.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m just gonna do that thing I do.”
Luke buckled his seat belt. “You mean where you eyeball a person of interest until they shift under your scrutiny and cough up information?”
“Yep.” He drilled Luke with intensity.
“Not gonna work on me.” Luke stared back. “Fine. I was twenty-one when I met her. She was eighteen. We had a thing.” He swallowed hard.
Eric broke eye contact and cheesed. “I’m a Jedi.”
“No.” Luke laughed. “I don’t have time for a staring contest. We have a homicide to investigate.”
“A thing. I’d say you had more than a thing. I saw the way you looked at her. The way she didn’t look at you.” He slowed at the stoplight. “She beat you up and bruise your ego?”
Something like that. Exactly that. Luke flipped open his notepad.
“Your silence says so much.” Eric chuckled. “For the record, she doesn’t seem like the kind of woman to be messed up in something like this.”
Luke grunted. “Let’s take the evidence to the lab, and then we need to get some more information on this Boone person. I’m interested to see what kind of winner he is.”
“I’m more interested in what the killer wanted out of some sweet old lady’s house. I’m not convinced the guy staying there didn’t bring in trouble of his own.”
Piper might not be directly related to Christopher Baxter’s and Tyson Baroni’s murders, but she was in the middle of it somehow.
“What are you thinking?” Eric asked.
“Just running down scenarios in my head.” Trying to untwist the knot in his gut.
“You think Piper offed Christopher Baxter and Baroni?”
Luke stared at the car ahead of them. “No. But based on Piper’s entanglement with Chaz Michaels and his crew, I think she might have hidden something that he or someone wants. Baxter and Mama Jean got in the way. And maybe Tyson Baroni.”
“Mama Jean?” Eric smirked. “Like I said, more than a thing if you’re calling Jean Kennedy Mama Jean.”
Luke expelled a heavy breath. “Okay, it was more than a thing. But it’s squashed. She’s nothing more than a person of interest in our homicide investigation.”
“Okay.”
Silence permeated the atmosphere.
“I’m a Jedi.”
Luke frowned. “I wish you were a Jedi. It’s gonna take that kind of force to get Piper to back down or at the very least stay somewhere safer.” Didn’t matter why or how she was connected—the fact remained she was in serious danger.
And Luke had no intention of letting a single thing happen to her.
THREE (#ulink_8a2c47da-94e7-5dd3-adff-957febaeb619)
Mama Jean had been moved from ICU to her own room now that she was stabilized. Piper had sat by her bedside as she slept. A few times she woke, but was disoriented and didn’t realize Piper was near. She’d left to have a bite of lunch in the cafeteria, read a few boring magazines, then called to check in with Braxton. Classes were running smoothly.
Opening the door to Mama Jean’s room, Piper pasted on a happy face. “You’re awake.” She strolled to her bedside.
Mama Jean pushed a cup of Jell-O away and gave a thin-lipped smile. “Am I dreaming, dear one?”
Piper planted a kiss on Mama Jean’s wobbly cheek. “No, ma’am. I came as soon as I heard. How are you feeling?”
“Like I fell and hit my head, broke my arm in two places and broke my leg.” Her voice sounded garbled. “The police were here a spell ago.”
Had Luke swung back by while she was in the cafeteria? “And?”
“I told them what I remembered. It happened so fast.” Mama Jean’s hand shook underneath Piper’s. “I was asleep, but a commotion in the basement, where Christopher stays—stayed—woke me.” Tears flushed her gray eyes and dripped down the wrinkly cracks on her face. “Poor child. He was doing so well.”
Now wasn’t the right time to reiterate Mama Jean shouldn’t be taking in strays. Piper had been a stray, too. Nothing but an unwanted burden not worth the effort it took Mom to love her. But Mama Jean had done her best.
Piper clamped down on the rising ache inside. “I’m so sorry this happened. Did you see who it was?” Piper held her breath, hoping it wasn’t someone from old times. Guilt seeped into every vein and overloaded her brain. She bit down on her lip.
“No. Just a dark blur. I got up thinking Christopher had the TV up too loud. I came downstairs and saw him struggling with a man— I tried to run back up but...he grabbed me and I hit my head on the stairs when I fell. The next thing I know, I’m here.”
Piper pressed Mama Jean’s hand to her cheek and willed herself to pull it together. “I’m sorry,” she whispered through a choked-up voice. For not being everything she should have, for getting mixed up with Chaz and for her stupidity during her teenage years.
“Dear one, you have nothing to be sorry for. This wasn’t your fault.”
If Mama Jean only knew. She had more than her share to be sorry for, and she was. Piper had asked God over and over to forgive her. But she wasn’t certain that He had. How could He?
Piper would make up for her mistakes and find who did this. She’d start with Christopher Baxter. “Did Christopher ever have any friends over? A girlfriend?”
“A friend of his came by a few times. Nice young man. Big.”
Mama Jean thought a smile and a polite voice that used “Ma’am” and “Sir” constituted nice. “You remember his name?”
Mama Jean tilted her head. “Ron— No, Rick— No... Riff?”
Blood drained from Piper’s head. Riff wasn’t a person. Riff was a place. One Piper knew well. “You sure that wasn’t a place they talked about playing pool in?” Riff’s was the woodwork that roaches crawled out from. Didn’t look as though things had changed in a decade.
“Maybe. I think his name was... I don’t know. But Riff sounds right.”
It was a start. She may not know the friend’s name, but if someone recognized Christopher, they most likely would have a clue about whom he hung with.
“Have you spoken with a doctor yet?”
“He says I’ll need physical therapy but doesn’t see why I won’t make a full recovery. I’m optimistic.” She patted Piper’s cheek. “Look at you. A vision.”
Piper squeezed Mama Jean’s hand. “If I’d have been here, I would have pulverized him. Protected you.” Anger spiked through her blood, splashing over the guilt. Adrenaline raced. She had to find whoever had done this. No matter what the cost.
“You and the karate chops.” Mama Jean chuckled. “God protected me.”
“Your injuries state differently.” Piper gave her a pointed look.
Compassion filled Mama Jean’s eyes. “I’m alive. You have a lot to learn about the good Lord. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.”
God could have spared her. But Mama Jean was right. She was alive, strong and a fighter. “I’m going to grab some water. Can I get you anything?”
“You being here is enough.”
If she could find who’d done this and bring him to justice, without getting killed in the process, then it would be almost enough. “Rest. I’ll be back.”
She closed the door, and leaning against the wall was Luke. “What now?” Piper gritted her teeth and strode down the hall to the drink machines.
Luke ambled along beside her. “I have a few more questions. And a cab is expensive.”
Piper sighed. “I’m planning on staying the night, so don’t bother with the offer to drive me home.” She shoved her dollar into the machine, punching the button for bottled water with more force than necessary. “I was hoping you were here to bring me answers, not questions. Mama Jean is so weak and pale.” Anger brewed fresh. “I’m gonna get whoever did this. So while you run me down, I’ll actually be finding who hurt my grandmother.” She snagged her bottle of water and challenged him with a glare.
His nostrils flared. She’d struck a nerve. “First off, going vigilante isn’t smart and will only cause more problems. Secondly, did you know Boone Wiley—that’s his last name—has a rap sheet and has done time? Armed robbery, larceny, and I saw my old partner in the theft division. He says he’s suspected of being involved in a hit on a jewelry store nine months ago. But they don’t have sufficient evidence.”
The cool water did nothing for Piper’s parched throat. Theft. “Why would I know that? I told you, I’d never seen him before he attacked me, and that he was trouble.”
Luke raked his hands through his thick hair, a habit when he was frustrated. Piper always found it endearing. She focused on his face instead. Mistake. Squared, strong jaw, well-sculpted cheek and jaw bones. The green stood out in his eyes today. Must be the chambray shirt with green flecks. Full lips pursed. “Don’t you think it’s odd that this guy is dating Harmony?”
“Was. Not is. And Harmony’s only downfall is her attraction to the wrong kind of men.” Piper could relate. Things would be so different now if she’d never met Chaz Michaels.
“I think all of you are connected. It’d be easier if you’d come clean.”
Piper waited for the two additional words: for once. They were getting nowhere going down this road. And whoever had hurt Mama Jean and killed Christopher Baxter could be long gone by now.
“Did you run down that boarder—Christopher Baxter?”
“No ties to Boone, if that’s what you mean. We’re looking into it. Running the drug angle in case he had a stash hidden. If he did, his killer found it because we sent dogs in. Nothing.”
“But you’d rather focus on me. A dead end.” In more ways than one.
Luke sighed. “I decided to talk to Harmony after all. I’d rather do it face-to-face, but I can’t wait until Monday evening. She’s not answering.”
“I don’t answer numbers I don’t know.” Piper ought to call her, too. How mad was she going to be hearing Piper hadn’t followed her wishes and told the police about Boone after all? “I’ve got to get back and see to Mama Jean.” Piper headed toward Mama Jean’s room. Luke stayed with her.
“Is she going to be okay?” he asked. Concern touched his voice.
“Yeah. Needs therapy. Probably have to stay in an assisted-living center while going through it. In the meantime, I’m going to try and talk her into moving into an apartment or something in a better neighborhood. Or maybe I can rope her into coming back to Jackson with me. I should have done that long ago.”
Luke shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and stopped outside Mama Jean’s room. “You—you doing okay in Jackson? Making a good life?”
The hesitation in his voice melted her. Her throat tightened. “Yeah. I’ve got a nice house with an extra bedroom for Mama Jean—if she’ll move. It’s a quiet life. Until now.”
Luke looked as if he wanted to ask something else, but he scuffed the toe of his shoe against the tiled floor. “Good. That’s...good.” He avoided eye contact, nodded and scratched the back of his head. “I’ll keep you posted. Be careful, Piper. You might be strong, but you’re not invincible.”
Piper stared at his back as he traipsed down the corridor, her insides exploding. No, she wasn’t invincible and everything told her to run, to hide. Chaz Michaels terrified her. Always had. But she couldn’t sit by while Mama Jean’s attacker ran scot-free, especially since it might be Piper’s fault. She entered the hospital room. Sterile. Lifeless. A lot like the way Piper felt.
Was her life good? On the surface, yes. But inside, Piper was never settled or at rest. Longing for a family of her own dogged her as the aging clock ticked by. Competing internationally had been a brief stint of contentment, keeping her focused and occupied, but when those karate competitions were over, Piper came home to an empty house with no one to love and no one to love her back.
“I thought I heard a man’s voice,” Mama Jean said as Piper neared her bed.
Should she tell her about Luke? He was going to ask her some questions anyway. Why hadn’t he done it just now? If Piper didn’t know any better, she’d think she’d run him off with something she’d said. But what?
“I was talking with Luke Ransom. He’s working Christopher’s case. He was here yesterday, actually. Checked in on you. He’ll want to ask you a few questions about the incident.”
“He’s a wonderful man. I always hoped you two would get married. I know how much you loved him.”
Piper wasn’t sure anyone could know how much she’d loved Luke. How much she still did. Even if she’d tried not to. It wouldn’t take. “So, what’s on TV?” Thinking of all she’d lost ached too much, and she needed Mama Jean engaged in a show. Piper had no choice but to hunt down the scumbag who had hurt her. Starting by sifting through the crowd at Riff’s.
* * *
Luke sat in his car gripping the steering wheel but going nowhere. He’d come to the hospital on his dinner break with every intent to talk with Mama Jean about the incident.
Then Piper went and talked about her good life—a life without him—and Luke wanted nothing more than to bolt.
Before he’d left the precinct, he’d received some information on Boone Wiley, sending Luke’s mind and heart into a game of tug-of-war, flustering him. His heart said Piper was innocent and would never do anything that might put Mama Jean in danger, while his mind continued to replay the night he’d shown up at Ellen Strosbergen’s house ten years ago.
Luke and his old partner, Kerr Robbins, had been staking out that bogus address Piper had given them. In the end, she’d been loyal to a criminal, and Luke had carried the guilt from the events that escalated that night. He still struggled with how it ended. How Piper flushed what they had down the toilet.
Maybe he should have never got in too deep with her in the first place. But the moment he’d walked—undercover—into that smoke-infested low-life pool hall on Beale Street, she’d captured him. Not with her beauty, though she was beautiful, but with her downcast expression. As if the world had chewed her up and spit her out, leaving her alone and hopeless. As if she needed fixing.
Turned out to be her eighteenth birthday. And where had she been? Alone, sitting at a booth.
Luke pawed his face and rested his head on the seat, forcing the memories down. He tried Harmony’s number and got voice mail again. So what now? His phone rang. Not Harmony.
Eric.
“Hey, bro.”
“I talked to one of my CIs downtown. Says he knows Baxter but he hasn’t been down for a fix in a long time. Hung out at Riff’s. Easy place to score. But he found Jesus at that shelter off Front Street. So it’s looking like our vic is clean. Not saying he didn’t have some money stashed away, but I think we need to turn direction and roll down Piper Kennedy’s street.”
Luke had a contact at Riff’s, too. The very place he’d met Piper.
“I put in a call to Baroni’s brother. Haven’t heard from him.”
The coroner had confirmed the blunt force trauma to the back of his head had probably knocked him for a loop, but it was the swift crack of the neck that had done him in. Not from a fall but a perfectly executed break.
Luke had asked if it were possible for a woman about five foot three to have done that to a man six feet tall. Unfortunately, the coroner let him know if the man had dropped to his knees from the blow, it would have been easy.
Another nail in Piper’s coffin, but the theory wasn’t enough to arrest her. And quite frankly, he couldn’t make himself believe it.
“Luke, you hear me?”
“What? No. Sorry.”
Eric sighed. “You need to get focused, man. I said no prints on the tire iron. I was hoping there would be, not that I want the Kennedy woman to be guilty, but since her prints are on file...”
No, this wasn’t going to be a slam dunk.
“I’ll meet you back at the precinct, and let’s see if we can dig anything else up on Boone Wiley. Maybe we can directly connect him to one of the old crew members. And let’s turn over a few rocks, see if any of Christopher Baxter’s friends are lurking underneath.”
Luke bought two coffees and met Eric at the precinct. Luke handed Eric his caffeine jolt and collapsed into his office chair.
“I need more information about that night back when you worked theft, man.”
Luke tapped a pen on his desk calendar. “At the time, we suspected Chaz Michaels was running a crew who burglarized the elderly in wealthy neighborhoods. In and out. No injuries. No fatalities. I’d just come on board the Crimes Against Property Bureau. A little younger than Chaz and his crew but a prime candidate for the undercover work. Get in, snoop around, see if I could get close to them.”
Eric raised an eyebrow and paused middrink. “Piper Kennedy was your in.”
Luke nodded. It hadn’t started out that way, though. He’d simply taken a seat in the booth with her. Had no idea she even knew Chaz. Never dreamed she’d been in a romantic relationship with him. But the door was open. And he went through it.
“Do we know where this Chaz Michaels is?” Eric set his cup on the desk, pulled a Twizzler from his coat pocket and went to work on his computer.
“I’ve already searched the system. It’s like he vanished after Ellen Strosbergen was brutally beaten. They arrested Sylvester ‘Sly’ Watson and he’s doing time at Riverbend.”
Eric played drums with his fingers on his desk. “Did he beat the woman?”
“Prints on the tire iron says he did. He never ratted out a single other person.”
Eric gave a side nod. “That’s devotion. Gang-like.”
“They were, in a sense.” Luke opened a drawer and found a roll of antacids.
“And Harmony Fells was wrapped up in this group?”
Luke nodded.
“She’s squeaky-clean now. A few stains on her juvie record.” Eric finished his coffee and shot the cup into the can a couple of feet away. “Score!”
“Couldn’t place her, Tyson Baroni or Chaz Michaels at the scene that night.” But he could place Piper. She’d been two blocks from the Strosbergen home, running like Carl Lewis in the hundred-meter sprint.
“I know you and she had a thing—”
“It won’t affect my job.” He’d make sure of it. Never. Again.
“I was going to say that even though you had a thing with her, we ought to take a little look-see into her Jackson life. See if she’s as innocent as she says.” He stood and clutched his jacket. “Get some rest tonight.”
“You got a date?”
Eric wiggled his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“It’s why I asked.” Luke chuckled. “And you answered my question. You don’t.”
“When I can find a woman who won’t freak every time I holster a gun to my shoulder, I’ll be set. Call if something pops.”
Hopefully, when something did, Piper’s name wouldn’t be anywhere near it. The churning in his gut said otherwise.
* * *
Beale Street hadn’t changed much in a decade. Neon lights lit up the murky sky. Ashy clouds slithered around the full moon. Not a star in sight. Piper flipped the collar of her black canvas jacket around her ears. The wind was colder and stronger coming off the Mississippi River. Shards of glass and trash littered the sidewalks. Horses clip-clopped down the street eagerly waiting for couples who wanted a romantic ride in lit-up carriages. Quite the contradiction.
Blues music drifted from clubs, restaurants and bars. Saturday night. Throngs of people packed into the buildings. Riff’s turned a blind eye and welcomed anyone who at least looked sixteen, mostly riffraff. Piper had been coming and going since she was fifteen.
The neon pink sign blared over the aged brick building. Two large windows revealed patrons enveloped in cigarette smoke and pale lighting. She stood out front, inhaling the tangy scent of BBQ and char-grilled burgers. Liquor permeated Beale Street on Friday and Saturday nights. Wasn’t even May yet. Memphis in May would draw huge crowds.
She could stand here with a million regrets or go in and try to dig up some information on Christopher Baxter.
A chill swept up her spine. That being-watched feeling coated her skin. No time to second-guess the idea. It was now or never.
FOUR (#ulink_55a5266f-84b0-5825-a906-516d1f61eaa4)
Piper marched through the doors, cigarette smoke burning her nostrils. The smell of pungent sweat, stale beer and peanuts sent a wave of nausea through her. How could she have ever called this her stomping ground? A few leering eyes roamed her, but she maneuvered through the mob. Pool balls clacked together. Laughter and the thump of bass mixed with a tenor voice crooning an old Bonnie Raitt song.
Everyone seemed young. Not that Piper was old, but she’d aged before her time in many ways. Made a lot of shoddy decisions, thinking she was all grown-up. She ached to go back to age ten, when Mama Jean had sent her to church camp and she had walked to the altar to ask Jesus into her life. On the following Friday evening, Mama Jean had come and watched her be baptized. That moment had felt like warmth cocooning her. A safe place. She hadn’t wanted to come up out of the water.
What happened in those next years? How had she fallen so hard so fast? Mama Jean would say, “Dear one, you spend more time with those friends than the friend that sticks closer than a brother.” Piper didn’t understand exactly what she meant, other than she was talking about Jesus. Mama Jean always talked about Jesus.
She slipped her coat off and hitched herself up onto a high-top chair. A greasy menu was laid out for her to skim. Her stomach protested the thought of food. Behind the bar, cooks in white shirts and hats slung hash.
An eruption of laughter and applause exploded near the pool-hall section. Piper checked out the crowd. No one she recognized. Did she expect anyone to still linger here?
“Well, look who else the cat dragged in.”
Piper turned her head and smiled. “Jazz.” The big burly guy, skin the color of espresso beans, now in his fifties, wrapped her in a bear hug. His physical strength overpowered her as much as the scent of grease and onions. “How ya been?”
“Holding my own, Pipes.” Jazz had managed this place for as long as Piper could remember. A fairly decent guy—never tried to take advantage of her. “What brings you back here?”
“You wouldn’t know a guy named Christopher Baxter, would you?” Hope and a prayer—that God probably wouldn’t hear—floated from her mind. Something Jazz had said a minute ago hit her. “Wait, what do you mean ‘who else’? You said ‘look who else the cat dragged in.’” Piper’s hands turned clammy. “Who else is here?”
“Your boy from way back. Came in about five minutes ago.”
Chaz? Piper might pass out. “Which boy?”
“Luke.”
He must have a lead. “He say anything?”
Jazz shrugged. “Just came in, shook my hand like old times.”
Luke had been undercover once. Was he trying to stay that way?
“So Christopher Baxter. You know him? Who he ran with?”
Jazz clucked. “That fat cat, Derone, and him were tight till Baxter found the Lord over on Riverside. They call Derone ‘Wheels’ ’cause that tricked-out Caddy he be drivin’.”
“Is Derone here?”
“Was fifteen minutes ago.”
Now for one more question. “Have you seen Chaz around?”
“Not in years. Saw Tyson a few times, but he didn’t go in the back. Not after Sly went to prison.” Jazz removed his toothpick and pecked Piper on the cheek. “Don’t go gettin’ in any mess.”
“Me?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He gave her a knowing look and strutted behind the counter. Piper snagged her coat and pushed through couples dancing, playing pool and darts, past the bathrooms that flanked the narrow hallway to double doors leading to the real action. Anyone jonesing for trouble gravitated back here. Cops showed up, easy exit. The dull metal door opened to an alley that connected with an Italian restaurant.
Piper opened the door to a massive room, sectioned off by wooden half walls with cedar beams towering to the ceiling. Smoky. Crimson shades hung over dim lights above red vinyl booths that lined the walls. Several games of pool and darts were going on. Black-topped tables with matching scuffed chairs splotched the right side area.
No sign of Luke yet.
“You look lost.” An athletic-built man with shaggy black hair and intense blue eyes sidled up to her. “Are you?” His voice was warm-paraffin kind of smooth, and in the old days Piper would have already swooned. And been sorely burned. This guy was wildfire.
“I’m looking for Derone.”
“You his girl? Because I’m not seein’ it.” He flashed a grin. Definitely not a meth head with those Colgate-white chops. Dimples creased his scruffy cheeks.
“I need to find him.” She scanned the crowd around the pool tables.
“If I tell you where he is, will you have a drink with me?” His spicy cologne was enticing.
“I don’t drink.”
“Not even water?” He chuckled. “Tell you what. I produce Derone, and you have a drink of water with me. Just water.”
Never gonna happen. Nobody back here was up to anything honorable. No matter how incredible they smelled or appeared. “I’m not thirsty.”
He gave a quick nod. “I can live with that answer. My name’s Holt. Holt Renard. I’d remember if I saw you before. First time here?”
Piper peered over his shoulder. “Which one’s Derone?”
He sighed and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Last booth on the right. Nice girl like you don’t need to be tangling with Wheels.”
Piper pitched a lukewarm shrug. “I’m not known around here as a nice girl.” And shame painted her skin red.
She charged toward the booth. A beast of a man with a tattooed bald head swung around the corner with a pool stick in hand and a leering eye.
“You looking for a good time?” he rasped.
Would this never end? Piper glared up at him. “If a good time is named Derone.”
“Derone.” He laughed. “Derone can’t show you a good time. But I can.”
Losing her patience wasn’t smart. But the ape loomed over her, and getting in her personal space was a mistake. “You need to seriously consider stepping aside.”
“Feisty, aren’t ya. I like it.”
He had no idea just how feisty Piper could be.
“And if I don’t?”
Piper didn’t encourage fighting, especially picking one, but she had a mission, and the longer this goon messed with her, the chances of finding Derone slipped away. “I don’t have time for this. Move.”
She started to step around him, but he clasped her shoulder, digging his fingers into her flesh.
Mistake.
Piper laid an elbow into the giant’s sternum with a quick jab. He fought for a lungful of air, but she’d knocked the breath out of him, sending him into a panicked state. Taking the small open window of opportunity, she grabbed his hand, twisted around, faced him and landed a double-front kick to his rib cage, toppling him over the pool table.
“You said you liked feisty.” Piper ignored the stares, hoots and applause and targeted on the last booth to the right. Where was Luke? Had he already found who he was searching for? Had it been a bust?
“Was that necessary?” Luke appeared from a crowd near the darts area, a twinkle in his eye. He led them to a quieter corner away from the humiliated man seething over getting beat up by a woman and where they could have a more private conversation.
“He was in my personal space and wasn’t going to let up. And if you came by to see if I was hanging around my old place for fun and giggles, you’re wrong.”
Luke fiddled with a blue chalk square lying on a high-top table. “I had no idea you were here. But I’m not surprised after you so sweetly told me you planned to track down the person behind Mama Jean’s assault and probably yours.”
“And I meant it.”
“And I still believe you.” He lifted his eyebrows. “So, your plan is to go all Bruce Lee on everyone until you get answers?”
“If that’s what it takes.” Did he have to be so attractive with his grin, one side lifting higher than the other? “What have you found out?”
“I was just starting a conversation when you pulled your stunt. Baxter frequented here at one time and ran with a guy named—”
“Derone. I know. Got that from Jazz.” Piper tried not to inhale his scent or be hypnotized by the gravel in his voice.
“How would you know to find Derone here?”
“Mama Jean mentioned Riff’s. I also know the kind of people who frequent this joint. It doesn’t take a detective’s shield to make that dog hunt.” Piper propped her hands on her hips. “Excuse me while I find him.” She forced a tough exterior, hoping Luke wouldn’t bring up her lack of invincibility. She was only one person. But she was the only one she could depend on. Keep the brave front, Piper. Do what you have to do. Find out who’s behind this.
* * *
“How about we find him together?”
Luke rubbed his chest. Feelings he didn’t want to experience seeped to the surface, ignoring his attempts to keep them behind the wall he’d built. Piper lived in Jackson now and was happy, according to her. A good quiet life. No room for him. Not that he wanted her to make room.
She needed to stop digging into things on her own.
“Piper, you should go home.” It hit him. “Wait a minute... How did you get here? Your car isn’t going to be ready until Monday.”
Piper glared. “I took a cab from the hospital. I’m not helpless. And I’m not leaving until I have answers.”
No. Piper wasn’t helpless, but sniffing around might get her killed. Karate was an excellent defense, but it wouldn’t stop a bullet. “Please don’t make me arrest you for obstructing justice.” Throwing her in a cell would keep her safe.
Piper invaded his personal space, pinning him with a glare; the smell of jasmine messed with his head. “I’ll tell you what—if you think you can get a pair of cuffs on me, I’ll let you haul me in.”
The dare in her eyes only furthered his attraction. Piper wasn’t going to let anyone, including him, run all over her. This wasn’t the same woman from ten years ago. She was stronger, more determined and unstoppable. A wave of admiration and respect swelled within him.
Better to work with her than against her. Having her near would be smart, to keep an eye on her and to protect her. But when it came to his heart, it might be the dumbest move in history.
“Fine. You can stay.”
“Can?” She shot another lethal glare.
He glanced around the crowd, making sure Bald Guy hadn’t decided to go another round with Piper. Looked long gone. “That came out wrong. Let’s put our heads together.” Last time they’d put their heads together, they’d been kissing. His sight trailed to her soft lips.
“How are we supposed to do that when I’m a suspect to you?” Piper rolled her shoulders around. He could relate to the tension.
Her eyes widened and she shot her hands up. Luke turned to see a man who should be playing linebacker for the Chicago Bears slide from the booth and head for the restroom area.
“Derone!” Piper shoved past Luke. Derone sized Piper up and bolted.
“Wait!” Piper took off after him as he thrust open the exit door and burst into the alley.
“You wait!” Was she crazy? Luke blew after her, but she was so much smaller it’d been easier for her to maneuver through the crowd.
Piper was halfway down the alley by the time Luke ran out the back door.
Derone obviously thought she was a cop. No wonder, the way she came in owning the place. Piper never did understand subtle. Luke sped up, gaining on Piper, who was dogging Derone. He whipped right, hauling it past a gathering of spectators and ignoring the foul remarks and name-calling.
Derone was about twenty feet ahead and Piper was gaining. Man, she was fast.
Derone shot down a side street. Luke pumped his legs harder. The cold air burned his lungs. The guy might have a gun. He had to get to Piper. Or to Derone first.
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