Chapter 29
Noah got out of Angel that she thought there was some sort of clause that might help Dyshawn in the event of Gerald’s death. Since he was not very familiar with contract law, and Angel didn’t know more, they finished up and left.
“That was interesting,” Harper said on the way home. “We have a new long-shot suspect. A killer sports agent. It sounds like a crappy TV movie.”
“And Gerald is having a kid posthumously.” The randy bastard was probably spinning in his coffin. “The daughter of a stripper could carry the Covington name.”
“As if that’s a good thing. The rest of the family is a group of lunatics and weirdos. I wouldn’t be surprised if the family tree is a straight stick with few branches.”
“Agreed,” Noah said and turned up the air conditioning. “Angel is carrying a bomb in her belly that might blow up the entire family.”
“No truer words have ever been uttered,” she said. “Willard will have a stroke if he finds out. They may play outside the lines, but they’d never ‘taint’ their bloodlines. Even Betty Anne is connected to a Rockefeller or something.”
Noah thought the widow leaned closer to mountain hermit than New York elite.
“From what I’ve learned so far,” he said. “It’s hard to believe they have any standards of moral conduct.”
“I know, right? They’re a bunch of hypocrites.” She rubbed her hands together. “I’ll call Taryn tomorrow and find out if she knows a family law lawyer. If Angel decides to go ahead with a case against the estate, she’ll need a shark.”
Later, when Noah was in bed, and between thoughts of seducing Harper, he sent off a text to a lawyer he knew from working a case in Detroit. Tom texted right back.
Tom: What’s up, Slade?
As a criminal law attorney, Tom Lansky was ruthless and never stopped working. He texted Tom a couple lines about the case and within a few minutes had a name and number.
Tom: If anyone can kick Covington ass, Grady Faulkner is your man.
Noah: Next time I get to Motown, beers are on me. Thx.
He forwarded the name to Harper, not expecting to hear back from her so late. She sent him a smiley face emoji and a second with a kissy face. It took very little to make her happy.
He texted her back a “wink.”
Four minutes passed, then another text:
Harper: Do you want to come over and make out?
Noah was on his way next door in an instant. Harper waited on her porch, dressed in flannel pants and a blue T-shirt. On her feet were slippers that looked like Yeti claw feet. Odd choice for seduction but he didn’t care.
“Nice,” he said. She looked good enough to eat.
She twirled a wild curl and jutted out a hip. Had she been any other woman, he’d have expected silk and lace. Harper never was a seasoned seductress. And yet, he couldn’t imagine her sexier than he did right now.
“Stop talking and kiss me.”
Somehow she ended up with her legs around his waist with him carrying her across the foyer and into the living room, their mouths locked together. He half dropped, half fell with her onto the couch. Their tongues teased and his hands went all the places available while she was fully dressed.
There was heavy breathing and moans and groans—his with frustration that she wasn’t naked, hers likely because he didn’t try clothing removal. He didn’t want to scare her off.
When they came up for air, her hair all but obscured her face and she was smiling. “That was yummy.”
He brushed the tangle back from her face. “And unexpected.”
Her smile wavered. “I know I’m giving you mixed signals and I’m sorry for that. It’s just that I’m having a hard time finding happiness these days and for some reason, kissing you makes me very happy.”
Finally, a damn breakthrough. He pulled back, sat on the couch, and dragged her into his lap. “I’m all for being used for my lips.” He pressed a kiss at the corner of her eye and inhaled the scent of mango shampoo. “Yes, you are blowing hot and cold. And no, I’m not complaining.”
She kissed him again. It had been years since he’d made out with a woman just for kissing’s sake. When he lifted his head, her eyes were soft.
His heart tugged. “Remember how we used to sneak into the Cheevy’s barn and make out in the loft?”
“Then Old Man Cheevy caught us and we had to run through the corn field to get away from him.” Harper’s laughter brought tears to her eyes. “I thought we were done.”
“Me, too. But we got away.” He ran a hand up her arm to cup her face. “I lost my new boot in the mud. My mom was so mad.” Her soft skin drew him in. He pressed a kiss on her chin. “I miss those days, HJ.”
She tangled her fingers in his hair. “Me, too.” They kissed for a while, tenderly touching and reminiscing. “Do you ever think it’s possible to go back?”
“You mean to where we were?” He hid his surprise.
Her hand dropped away and she pushed off his lap. “Forget it. I’m feeling nostalgic, that’s all.”
Taking her arm lest she put distance between them, he locked on to her eyes. “We can’t go back, but maybe we can make new memories? There has to be a barn somewhere.”
A few heartbeats passed and a slow sweet smile crossed her lips. “I can’t make promises because my life is really messed up right now, but maybe we can keep things open. If you promise not to get all sappy on me, I might let you have a peek at what’s under my PJ’s.” She stood, reached for his hand, and tugged him off the couch. “Just this one time.”
* * * *
Noah wanted more than anything to strip her out of her clothes and show her the experience he’d gained since his fumbling in the backseat of cars years ago.
Sadly, it was not to be. The doorbell rang. Standing outside was a pair of officers and Detective Mignon.
Noah reluctantly opened the door.
Noah shook his head. “Are you kidding me? Twice in the same week, Detective?” Harper made a small sound behind him that only he and dogs could hear, the whimper of the innocently condemned. He wanted to hold her, lie, and tell her she’d be okay.
The detective’s expression told Noah that he was on a mission. Nothing would be okay if the cop had his way.
“We have a warrant to search the premises,” Mignon said and held up the paperwork. “Please step aside.”
Noah stayed put. “Can I ask what you’re looking for?”
Mignon smirked. “We’ll know it when we see it.”
Not wanting to back down, Noah crossed his arms. “That seems vague. There has to be something you expect to find.”
His bushy brows drew down on Noah. “We got a tip. Now, do you plan to step aside or should I have you arrested?”
Knowing he’d be of no use to Harper sitting in jail, Noah stepped out of the way. The trio walked past him. Mignon frowned at Harper. Obviously, he’d gotten over his skepticism about the knife and was back to hanging the crime on Harper.
“Did an anonymous caller tell you where you can find the rest of the knife set?” Pissed off, Noah barely concealed his outrage with a bland expression. He knew what line not to cross, but had his toes right up to the edge.
Mignon ignored him and poked around the old bookshelf. Noah loitered nearby. “I’m starting to think Harper needs a lawyer.”
Eyes turned his way. “That might be a good idea.”
An officer came into the room a few minutes later. “Look what I found under the mattress.” He held up a laptop. It looked kind of old. “There might be incriminating clues in here.”
“I haven’t used that computer in probably two years. I use my phone and an android,” Harper said, confused. “And I don’t keep that under the bed. It was in a box in the closet with some books and papers.”
“See if you can open it up,” Mignon said, ignoring her.
Noah stepped up. If Harper said the computer was in a box, he smelled something rank. It was the knife in the car situation all over again.
“Wait a minute. Is that covered in the warrant?” He lifted the warrant and did a more thorough read. There was some legal jargon but he discovered that all electronic devices were covered. “This is fucked up.”
“And you may be harboring a killer,” Mignon snapped back. “I know you own this house.” He glanced between them. “I think you have blinders on when it comes to her.”
Noah turned and drew Harper to one side of the living room. He turned his back to Mignon. “We’re getting you a lawyer.”
Her eyes welled. She blinked back tears. “Noah, I can’t afford a lawyer. Hell, I can’t afford a law student.”
Reaching out, he lifted her chin. “I know someone good. I’m sure we can work something out.” She wavered. “Be tough. We are not letting Mignon win. You hear me?”
A firm nod followed. “I hear you.”
“Detective,” the officer sitting at the kitchen island with her laptop called out. “Come and see what I found.” There was an excited edge to his voice.
Mignon hurried over. Noah was right behind him. The second officer stepped into his path and held out a hand. “Stay back.”
Noah did. He’d leave the arguing to when he found out what crap they’d dug up this time.
The detective leaned in and the pair stared down at the screen. Then they talked together in low voices, before Mignon straightened and faced Harper. “I thought you said you haven’t used the computer in a couple years?”
“That’s correct.” She was wound up tight.
Mignon turned the computer around. “Then why do you have a copy of the blueprints for the Rosemont Hotel?”