Chapter 24
“Oh, no.” Harper drove ahead for half a block and found a safe place to pull over. They were still in a neighborhood and she found a double spot between two parked cars. “Was I speeding?”
Noah looked over and then back to the police car behind them. “I don’t think so. They’ll probably ticket you for a broken…everything.”
“This isn’t my car,” she protested and dug for her license. “Can you check for registration and insurance?” Noah reached for the glove box. “It’s empty except for what I suspected is a mouse nest. It has fur.”
“Nice.” What was it about her and rodents lately? The only more prominent pest in her life had four hooves, unless she counted Alvin following her around. He wasn’t inconspicuous, even with dark shades he used to hide his face.
She lifted the license. Her hands shook. “I can’t afford a ticket. My funds are stretched enough.”
“I’m sure they can call the rental company,” he assured her. “They hold the insurance and registration.”
A tall and thin officer approached the window, his hand hovering over his gun. On the passenger side, another man in a suit did the same. It took her a second to realize the suit-guy was Detective Mignon.
“License please,” said the officer and took the proffered item. “Do you know why I stopped you, Ms. Evans?”
Interesting that he hadn’t looked at her license and knew her name. “Wait a second,” she said, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Did you arrest me the other day? You did. What a coincidence that you pulled me over tonight, don’t you think?”
A grin was his answer.
She smelled something fishy and it wasn’t his breath.
Mignon leaned on Noah’s window frame and peered over at her. “Why am I not surprised to see you, Detective?” She lifted a brow. “Have you been demoted to driving code violation enforcement?”
The uniformed officer snickered.
“We got a call that you might have evidence in the car from the Covington murder, Miss Evans,” Mignon said, ignoring the jab. “I’d like to search the car.”
“This is bullshit,” Noah said, but very nicely. As a former member of law enforcement, he wasn’t about to get into a pissing contest with the police. “Do you have cause?”
Harper was grateful for Noah. She had a witness in case of trouble and laid a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Noah. Search away, Detective. I have nothing to hide.”
Mignon nodded and he stepped onto the curb. “Pop the hatch and please exit the car.”
Harper and Noah reconvened at the curb. Night had taken a chill and Harper didn’t have a coat. She rubbed her forearms and leaned against Noah. The two officers flicked on heavy duty flashlights and dug through the Yugo.
“Notice how I wasn’t asked for my ID?” Noah said.
“I was thinking the same thing. I suspect the good detective has been monitoring my activities.”
Noah circled his arms around her and whispered in her ear, “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Me, too.” They were on the same page. “Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to the request.”
“Then you’d look guilty,” he replied. “It’s no-win.”
The search didn’t take long. It wasn’t a big car.
“Found something,” the uniformed officer said. He lifted his gloved hand and a knife flickered in his flashlight beam.
“Bullshit,” Noah said, repeating his earlier thoughts on the traffic stop and search. This time he didn’t soften the sentiment. Mignon lifted a brow.
Harper’s head whipped back and forth like a broken bobble head figurine. “That isn’t mine,” she said, desperation in her voice. She looked up at Noah. He was angry. “I swear I don’t know anything about that.”
He shushed her under his breath. “Say nothing.” He released her and walked to where Mignon had joined the officer. “Let me guess. That knife matches the knife in Covington’s chest.”
The detective nodded grimly. “Sure looks like it.”
“And you don’t find it odd,” Noah pressed on with a strong measure of disbelief. “That Harper the murderess didn’t have enough sense to get rid of that evidence?”
Harper knew that despite her adversarial connection to Mignon, he was no dummy. Doubt appeared in his eyes. This was too convenient even for him.
“If murderers were geniuses, they’d never get caught,” the tall officer said and dropped the knife into an evidence bag. He was clearly not the bright one. Either that or he was trying to scare her.
Thank goodness for Noah’s experience.
“Keeping a copy of the murder weapon in a rental car is just plain stupid,” Harper said. She wouldn’t go down easy. “If you keep looking, you might find bloody clothes, too.”
The snarky comment lifted Mignon’s other brow. The uniformed officer shrugged and returned to the car.
Still, the detective didn’t seem entirely convinced she’d just made a confession. Instead of handcuffing her to haul her to jail, he crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels.
“Being a smartass doesn’t help your case,” he cautioned.
“Having a laser focus on me doesn’t get you any closer to finding the killer,” she snapped back. “I didn’t kill Gerald. I can’t say it any plainer.”
Mignon glanced at Noah. The latter said in an authoritative voice, “I think she’s innocent. She isn’t clever enough to plan and execute a murder. Trust me, I know.”
Harper kept silent. He liked to downplay her abilities when he thought it would help. She knew he not only didn’t believe what he said, but found her more than competent. And he was on her side. So if he could keep Mignon away, she’d let him do his job without fussing.
The officer returned and shook his head. Mignon sighed. The fun date night the two men planned for arresting and taking the thumb screws to Harper fell apart. The detective wasn’t happy. But he was realistic.
“Something is happening here and you are in the middle of it,” Mignon said to her. “Don’t leave town.”
In unison, the officers left. Harper’s legs wobbled. She walked over to Harvey, slammed the hatch down, and leaned on the car.
“Someone is trying to divert suspicion from themselves,” Noah said, echoing her thoughts. Had he not been with her, the evening could have gone much differently.
“Thanks for being an excellent sidekick,” she said.
“The killer has to be the same person who planted the knife, don’t you think?” She should mention the moved bubble bath. But that felt more like brain fog than a prank.
“I agree. I think you’re being set up.”
Noah drew her against him when she shivered. “The killer needs a scapegoat and you fell in line. Now he needs you off your feet and out of focus. Or at least build up belief in everyone’s mind that you actually murdered Covington.”
After considering the idea, his comment had merit. “That makes sense,” she said. “And I was the perfect dupe. I sat in that bar and made threats against Gerald, even though I was just letting off steam.”
Beside her Noah went still. “What is it?”
His gaze dropped to her. “How many people were with you in that bar when you made threats?”
“I’d say more than a dozen were seated and many others came and went. It was a party. The team won a preseason game. The bar was packed with raucous patrons and fans.”
“Damn. It’s never easy.”
Confused, she stared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He rubbed his jaw. “I suspect the killer might have been in the bar that night and heard your drunken rambling. What a perfect chance to off Gerald than the day after you threaten him?”
Great. “You think I set the murder into motion?” She didn’t like Gerald but she didn’t want the burden of knowing she might have gotten him killed either.
Noah took her hand. “No, I don’t. I think the killer planned to get rid of him anyway. You just provided the opportunity.”
Unbelievable. She hoped he was right about her poor timing and that the killer had been plotting Gerald’s demise for who knew how long. The idea that a murderer could be someone she knew, and she may have spent time alone with that person any number of times, left her unsettled.
Would Gerald be his or her only victim? Was she in danger, too? “Do you think that the killer might do me in? I’ve seen ID shows where killers will set someone up, then make their death look like a suicide to divert suspicion. Add a suicide-confession note, and case closed.”
He pulled her into his arms. “This conversation has gotten way too dark.” He lowered his head and kissed her, firmly and completely. She kissed him back.
When his hand drifted to her butt, she broke the embrace. Their eyes met. “Nothing will happen to you,” he said. “I promise.”
“If only I could take comfort in that guarantee.” If Mignon found enough evidence against her, not even Noah could save her from arrest. “I’m a murder suspect and the actual killer is trying to frame me. This whole thing is crazy.”
He reached out. “Would you feel better if I grabbed your butt again? I know I would.”
With a combination smile and eye roll, she gave him the stink-eye. “If I thought you’d be satisfied with that, I’d consider your offer. It’s been awhile since I had a good butt squeezing. However, that would just encourage you into further bad behavior.”
He put both hands down, palms open, at butt level. All she had to do was back in. “I’m already encouraged.”
Laughing, she appreciated the lightening of mood. She gently slapped his hands down. “Nice try. My emotions are too jumbled to make reasonable decisions about you. Why don’t we go back to our apartments and get a good night sleep. We can interview Angel tomorrow night.”
He sent her a hang-dog expression that made her shake her head. Then he made a motion with both hands that looked like he was kneading bread dough. She squeaked, darted out of the way, and ran for the car.