The Sweetheart Game Page 18

  The detective handed back the phone. “Until I see a confession letter or a corpse floats down the Huron River, I’m not counting out that she’s alive.”

  “I hope so,” she said. They all knew hope dimmed as time passed. Wrapping things up, Summer and Jason left.

  “The guy is kind of a jerk but at least he’s actively looking for Mary,” she said. “And I trust him.”

  Jason agreed. “Where to next?”

  “I’d like to talk to Mary’s closest friend, Sandie. I assume the police contacted her but I’d like a shot. If anyone knows Mary intimately, it’s her.”

  Sandie Richmond sold real estate and her website photo showed an attractive brunette woman well into her forties with very white teeth. A few years ago, she’d won agent of the year in Washtenaw County and had the plaque to prove it.

  Summer pulled up her home address and they drove over. The house was huge. Thoroughly modern in brown brick with a massive arch over the door, landscaping out of a magazine, and a four-car garage set back behind the house. Jason wondered how she ever got permits to erect a mansion on such a small lot. Two smaller yet very nice houses on either side were dwarfed in comparison.

  “Why would anyone jam a giant house on that little lot?” Summer said as if reading his thoughts.

  “I was thinking the same thing.” They exited the truck and rang the doorbell. A young man wearing black running pants and a sleeveless, gray wife-beater t-shirt, size—extra tight—answered the door. He was chewing on a jerky stick and had an arm full of braided bracelets. The tattoo of a snake wrapped around one arm.

  “Yeah?” The kid was in his early twenties and had not been taught proper manners. He needed time with Summer’s nana.

  “We’re here to see Sandie Richmond,” Summer said bluntly. The guy stared at her for a minute and the shadow of a smile tugged his mouth. He wiggled the jerky stick around with his tongue. Jason stepped up. Two men ogling Summer in one day was two too many.

  “Can you tell your mother we’re here.” It wasn’t a question but an order. “We don’t have time for bullshit.”

  The kid grinned like a smartass with a secret. “Sandie isn’t my mother, she’s my wife.”

  Laughing, he spun around and walked off on black flip flops. Summer and Jason followed. Summer mouthed, “His wife?”

  Jason shrugged. What did someone call a kid with a much older wife? A trophy husband?

  Sandie was lying flat on a massage table in what Jason figured was a sun room. A man wearing a red polo shirt and khakis was pushing his elbow into her spine. She let out an appreciative groan. “That feels good.”

  “Baby, the cops are here,” said the youngster before plopping on a couch and lifting a gaming controller to fight off alien invaders.

  His wife lifted her head. Although she looked years younger than her forties, it was clear she’d had work done. Her skin was tight and she had fewer wrinkles around her eyes than in her company profile picture. Still, she looked good.

  “You’re cops?” she said, puzzled.

  “Private investigators. This is Jason Parker and I’m Summer O’Keefe.” Summer replied. “We’re here about Mary Crosby.”

  Sandie’s eyes dipped away for a second. Then she waved away the masseuse and gripped the sheet covering her lower half. Sliding her legs around, she sat up on the table.

  “Is there news?” She tucked the sheet over high breasts and appeared nervous for her friend. “Did Mel confess?”

  “Confess to what exactly?” Summer said. They took a pair of chairs nearby.

  “To kidnapping, selling her into slavery? Murder? The man is a total creep. I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

  Jason watched her eyes. He’d been off the force for four years, but he could still instinctively tell when someone was hiding something. Despite her outward concern, her eyes were more cunning than worried. She knew something about the case. What?

  “I’m afraid not. We talked to the police before we came here and they have nothing new.” Summer tapped the arms of her chair with one hand. “We’re hoping you can tell us more about their marriage. If Mary had any worries? Did Mel want out of the marriage? Stuff like that.”

  Sandie excused herself and walked out. She came back minutes later wearing an indecently short robe. She did have nice legs.

  Not that he noticed. She reclaimed her spot on the table.

  “When Mary met Mel, he didn’t have a pot to piss in or a window to pitch it out of. Mary’s family had the money. Her parents died when she was sixteen and she has a trust. Her nanny raised her until she was eighteen when she went off to college. She was almost forty when she met Mel.”

  Summer and Jason shared a glance. “Do you think he married her for her money?”

  “Who knows?” She sighed. “I tried to talk her out of the marriage but she was kind of desperate, if you know what I mean. She’s a super lady but never had a real relationship until Mel. Hitting forty was not a happy time for her. The guy gave her a lot of attention and they were married six weeks later.”

  “Surely after fifteen years, the marriage must have been solid,” Jason said. He wondered how much she knew about the affairs.

  “It was for a while,” Sandie admitted. “Several years ago we both found out that our husbands were cheating. I confronted mine. She kept her mouth shut. Mary wanted to keep the marriage. I wanted Harry out.”

  “You must have gotten the better deal,” Summer said and looked around the expansive room.

  Sandie laughed. “Shoot, I have to send him a tiny alimony check for the next two years. But I got my revenge. I built up my business and bought the lot between him and his bitchy mother. They live on either side of me.” She pointed in two directions. “I put up the biggest house that the city would approve and married my husband’s twenty-three-year-old nephew Kyle, after signing a pre-nup, of course. Now every day when my ex looks out his window, it’s like flipping him the finger.”

  Kyle chuckled and blew up a spacecraft.

  She leaned forward. “Kyle can barely spell his own name, but he has other excellent qualities.”

  The kid grinned and flexed a bicep over his head, all without looking up from the game. Kyle had it made, and knew whose bread to butter. So to speak.

  “Getting back to Mary and Mel,” Jason said. “Is there any reason why Mel would want her dead? If her money is in a trust, wouldn’t it be protected?”

  “It is,” Sandie agreed. “They live off his income from the city council and her monthly trust check of about fifteen grand.”

  “That’s a decent payout.”

  “Yes, but it ends if she dies.” Sandie examined her painted toes. “Mary said he’s been acting weird over the last few months and she found a life insurance policy he’d taken out on her. She joked that she was worth more to him dead than alive.”

  “That didn’t worry her?” Summer said.

  “It worried me,” Sandie said. “She just brushed it off.”

  Summer’s expression stayed blank but Jason could see her tense. “Did you notice any changes in her lately?” she said.

  “She’s been feeling crappy for months now. She and Mel went down to Mexico and she contracted a stomach issue.” Sandie paused and frowned. “The docs have treated her but it hasn’t gone away. They planned to send her to someone at Mayo. She vanished before her appointment.”

  “She told me about the illness and Mayo,” Summer said. “I live across the street.”

  Strangely, Sandie didn’t seem surprised that Summer was a neighbor of her friend. Maybe she already knew and kept it to herself. Clearly the woman had secrets.

  “Did you tell this to the police when she vanished?” Jason said. Detective Wheeler hadn’t mentioned Sandie at all.

  “I did,” she replied. “They said they’d talk to her doctors and look into the policy.”

  They sat for a minute, letting the information settle. Jason finally spoke again. “I can’t believe Mary let the policy issue go.
If I found out my wife had a huge payout coming if I died, and didn’t tell me, I’d be checking my car for cut brake lines.”

  “I agree.” Sandie glanced at her husband. He was happily annihilating half-naked blue space women. “She just waved it off and said that even if she thought he was dangerous, who’d believe her? He golfs with one of our state senators and has dined with the governor.”

  “Good question,” Summer said.

  Sandie didn’t have anything else to tell them, so they headed out. Summer led him to the truck and climbed in beside him. “What do you think the chances are that Mary’s stomach issues evolved from bad water to rat poisoning?”

  Jason backed out of the driveway. “One hundred percent.” They hit the road and took off past the modest house of the ex. A defeated-looking middle-aged man with graying hair and a slight paunch was rolling his trash can to the road.

  Sandie had traded up in looks if not in intelligence.

  “There is only one problem with that theory,” she said. “We won’t be able to prove any of that without Mary’s body.”

  Jason put a hand on her thigh. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  Chapter 27

  Getting warmer.

  Annoyance sent a prickle down her spine as she stared at her phone screen. Summer was tired of texts that meant nothing and led nowhere. Blindly chasing her tail like a dog on crack was not how she wanted to work this case. She’d rather figure this out on her own merit.

  Such as it was. She usually provided online information to Taryn and Jess and they linked it all together. Now she was running a case alone and her inexperience showed.

  “The reward is bringing in tips, although most of them are from people who just want the money,” she said in response to a question from Heather who was shoveling puffed cereal into her face. “I feel like I’m smacking into wall after wall.”

  Heather had a college visit this morning and Andrew offered to walk her over. Even though he was kind of goofy with those thick glasses, he was better than squirrel-beard guy. At least Andrew and her sister were born in the same decade. Still, the kid had better keep his hands to himself.

  “You’ll find her.” Heather munched down the last bite and put her bowl in the sink. That alone was progress. “Have confidence. I believe in you.”

  “Awww.” Summer went in for a hug. Heather smelled like strawberry shampoo. “You are the best sister ever.”

  Heather pulled back. “I know. Besides, if you fail at this PI stuff, there’s always gnome collecting as a profession.”

  As her sister fled, Summer called after her, “I take back what I said! You’re a terrible sister!” Heather’s laughter trailed her all the way out of the house.

  With the place to herself, Summer sat on a kitchen chair and pulled up all of the texts the anonymous sender had sent. Other than the rat poison—which could be unconnected and just a coincidence—there were no clues from the game player. They had no proof of anything other than Mary was missing.

  A lot of people had life insurance policies and didn’t kill their spouses. Husbands and wives cheated all the time and never killed their spouses. Mel could be innocent.

  She clicked over to the online tip line. There were dozens of tips. Most of them were stuff like, I think she ran off with my husband or the government took her to Area 51 as part of a secret alien breeding program.

  There was one promising lead in the bunch. She collected her purse and went in search of Jason.

  “We have a tip,” she said when he answered the door. She gulped. He was shirtless and holding a newspaper. With a blink, she hurried on, “A man in Ypsilanti thinks she was in his store last week and has video.”

  “Can I put on pants first?” He moved the newspaper.

  She looked down and realized all he had on were boxers with Star Wars characters printed on them.

  “A gift from a friend,” he said.

  There was no explanation needed about what kind of friend. Guys did not buy other men boxers unless they were a gay couple or as a prank. And since she knew for a fact that Jason was not gay, that ruled out one gender of friend.

  “Um, sure. But hurry.” She wanted to ask about the friend and whether she was former or current but held her tongue as he went off to change, her eyes following his perfect body the whole way up the stairs.

  They had no defined relationship so what he did when he wasn’t with her was not her business. Or so she told herself. It didn’t stop her from feeling jealous of the mysterious boxer-buyer. Purchasing underwear was personal. Very personal.

  Mrs. Kravitz wobbled into the room. The poor baby was all belly and barely cleared the solid wood floors. She weaved in and out of Summer’s ankles, rubbing her face.

  Summer scooped up the cat. “You are heavy, young lady, and very out of shape.” She nuzzled a paw. “Would it hurt you to do a few sit-ups?”

  The feline purred.

  Summer glanced toward the stairs. For some reason those damn boxers bothered her more than they should. The PI in her wanted to know more. The rest of her didn’t want to be clingy or jealous. She turned back to the cat.

  “You’d tell me if he was seeing someone, right?” Mrs. Kravitz meowed. “In English, please. I don’t speak feline.”

  “Are you talking to yourself?”

  She startled and almost dropped Mrs. Kravitz. “Geez, did you have to sneak up on me?”

  “I didn’t sneak.” He rubbed the cat on the head. “And just to get this out of the way, I am not seeing anyone. The boxers were a gift from last Christmas. We’ve both moved on.”

  Summer wanted to die. He’d overheard her comment. “It doesn’t matter to me if you date. We are not a couple.”

  “Sleeping together doesn’t count?”

  “Once. We slept together once. That does not make a relationship,” she grumbled and lowered Mrs. Kravitz to the floor. When she straightened, he was standing behind her. His arm went around her waist and his fingers splayed across her stomach.

  His mouth lowered to her ear. “Whatever you call this, I’m in. And I’ll rearrange the nose of any man who comes sniffing around.” His warm breath on her neck sent an explosion of shivers through her.

  “Friends with benefits?” she whispered.

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweet thing.”

  Summer broke free and ran for the stairs. “First one up gets to be on top!” she called and squealed as his footsteps pounded up the stairs behind her.

  * * *

  Summer opened her eyes sometime later and saw the world through a blur of blonde. She pushed her hair out of her face and glanced at the naked man beside her. Although his eyes were closed, she suspected he wasn’t sleeping, but rather recovering.

  There’d been sex, acrobatics, and some howling. And that was all her. Whatever sort of pheromones the man was putting out, her body was addicted.

  “I’m dead,” he said with a groan. “Bury me next to Chuck the possum. He’s over by the back fence.”

  She grinned and dragged herself on top of him. “No dying. We have to head over to the Bucket of Brew and watch that video. It might be our first real lead on Mary.”

  He played with her hair. “Let’s go with it’s another hoax and stay in bed instead.”

  Pressing several kisses on his chest, she scrambled off him before he got too relaxed. He grumbled under his breath.

  “The quicker we get there, the quicker we get back.” She searched around and found her panties. “If you hurry, I’ll let you be on top when we return.”

  * * *

  The Bucket of Brew turned out to be not a bar but a coffee shop off of Liberty. The guy behind the desk was in his twenties, Indian, and good-looking. The store was lined with rows of your typical party store fare for college students and late-night study marathons; snacks, drinks, and the like. The rest was devoted to exotic coffees and teas, pastries, and other baked goods. There were several patrons wandering down the rows searching for frie
d pork rinds and beer over Chai Tea.

  Summer introduced herself. “I’m looking for Sajan.”

  “I am he.”

  “We are here because you called in a tip about a missing woman, Mary Crosby?”

  “Of course,” he smiled, almost giddy. He hurriedly reached under the desk and brought up a laptop. “I have video proof.” He flipped it open. “Our security feed goes straight here. We don’t use tapes anymore.” He called for someone named David to watch the register. A college age kid with a crew cut wandered over. “You’ll see. It’s her.”

  The guy was almost manic. Summer’s radar went up.

  Sajan took them aside. “She came in a few days ago and bought a brownie and a bottled tea.” He clicked up the screen. “I noticed her because she was nervous. Then a man came in a grabbed her arm. They left the store together.”

  “Did you call the police?” Summer said. Her stomach dropped. Could Mary have been kidnapped for real?

  His hands shook on the keyboard. “I thought he was her husband. I called when I saw the flyer.”

  She wanted to club him with the computer. He may have witnessed a crime and did nothing.

  “Let me see the video.”

  He pulled the computer out of reach and clutched it to his chest. “I will get the reward? Yes?”

  “If your information leads to Mary, then you will,” Jason said. The guy nodded and slid the computer back.

  The angle wasn’t good, the camera was overhead, but the video was clear. A woman entered the store with a scarf wrapped around her head. She darted past a rack of pork rinds and to the corner where a self-serve row of teas was located.

  “We can’t see her face,” Jason said.

  “She is the right size,” Summer added.

  “It’s her,” Sajan assured them.

  After pouring the tea, the woman grabbed a wrapped brownie from a basket and walked toward the register. Before she made the purchase, a man in a hoodie ran in from the left and grabbed her arm. Summer’s breath caught.

  The woman dropped the tea and brownie and put the back of her hand to her forehead while jerking on her other arm to get free. The man held fast. He tugged her toward the outer door but slipped on the brownie. He almost went down.