Micah and Craig worked the tie-up in the tunnels. Long hours, a lot of waiting, a lot of speculating and figuring.
Meanwhile, Vivian had been questioned at the station—and confessed to everything, despite her attorney’s cautions.
“The whole thing sounds like Hitchcock,” Micah told Craig. “In a sick and twisted way. Strangers on a Train, except they weren’t strangers. Vivian Richter was working with Arlo Hampton. Arlo wanted Henry’s place as lead of the expedition. And Vivian was willing to kill Henry. It was an easy trade, or so it seemed. She’d kill Henry and Arlo would kill Ned. And, of course, she was willing to pay so that Satima Mahmoud would get her political group of disenfranchised students to fake an insurgency to cover up the murder. But as I said, in return for Henry being killed, Arlo was supposed to kill Ned. He screwed up. Vivian was afraid that Joe Rosello might figure out that Satima Mahmoud had been paid, so she decided she should poison him, which was why she showed up at the parade. And it was how Harley knew it wasn’t the same mummy. Vivian is nowhere near as tall as Arlo. But Arlo didn’t follow through on his part of the bargain. And Vivian lost control. When she saw Harley, I guess she wanted to do her in. But she hated Arlo for leaving her in the lurch. She was ready to kill Ned without blinking—and poison Arlo.”
“Yeah, so all that ‘beloved husband’ stuff was just an act. For our benefit,” Craig muttered.
“In Vivian’s mind, her husband never gave her the respect she deserved. She was bitter, says he constantly claimed that she only had a job because of him. I guess she grew to hate him. If Arlo had played his part properly, he would’ve been the big cheese and she would’ve held the second position. But Arlo failed her, so she poisoned him. Otherwise, what was he going to do? Blame her.”
“So if Arlo does make it, he’ll be under arrest. Conspiracy to commit murder—even if he chickened out on it,” Craig said.
“Yeah,” Micah agreed. “But...”
“But?”
“I’m glad that Jensen Morrow and the other grad students have been proven innocent. They’re Harley’s friends. For her, I’m happy.”
“Yep. I’m going topside for a while. I’ll try to find out about Jensen’s condition,” Craig told Micah. “I’ll let you know.”
Micah nodded. He hoped Jensen Morrow was going to be okay.
He was, Craig reported a short time later, upon returning to the tunnels. Jensen had a concussion, and they’d watch him at the hospital for a few days. After that, he’d be as good as new, according to the doctors.
Finally, just as dawn was breaking, they finished in the tunnels.
He and Craig left.
Craig didn’t ask where he wanted to go. He dropped him off at Harley’s.
“I should’ve called her, I guess,” Micah said.
“She’ll be waiting for you,” Craig told him.
And she was.
The night security guard waved him in. He had no idea how Harley knew exactly when he’d reach her door, but somehow she did.
The door opened, and she hurried into his arms.
He held her tight. She was bathed and sweet and fresh, and the scent of her hair was intoxicating; he kissed her, a long and lovely kiss, then pulled away.
“The tunnels,” he said with a shudder.
And the blood of a dead man and the rot of millennia, he might have said.
He didn’t need to.
She drew him in and up the stairs, to the bedroom, where he tossed his gun and holster on the table, and undressed quickly with her help. In minutes, she got into the shower behind him, forgetting to shed whatever silky thing she was wearing.
The water was hot and wonderful. Sensual, erotic and yet comforting.
He wasn’t sure when they left the shower; he wasn’t sure when she shed the wet silky thing. He knew they were still damp when they fell onto her bed. The room was in shadows, dawn was breaking with a spectacular light, and nothing seemed to matter except that they were together, touching each other.
They licked, teased, breathed each other.
Made love.
And made love again.
And then they slept for hours and hours and finally awoke.
Just for good measure, they made love yet again.
Later, when another day was almost gone, Micah looked through the great windows at the beauty of the church beyond.
“We’re going to get married there,” he said.
And then, of course, he remembered that they’d really only known each other for less than a week.
“One day,” he added. “Somewhere along the line.”
“What a proposal,” she said lightly. “So romantic!” But she smiled. “One day... Yes, I like it. I like it very much!”
As she replied, he suddenly heard a mewling sound. He looked at her with surprise.
“Oh!” she murmured.
She hurried away and returned with a little ball of gray fluff in her arms.
“Um, we have a kitten. I hope that’s okay?”
He laughed. “How did you...?”
“I found him in the tunnel. With... Ned’s body. I think he helped us, really. He...he needs a home.”
“So where has the little guy been?”
“I guess he went into hiding while we were all down there.”
“And then?”
“He followed me up to the ground floor, and one of the officers took him for me until I got back from seeing Jensen at the hospital,” she said. “I was thinking of calling him Lucky.”
“Lucky it is,” he said, and he took her—and the ball of fluff—back into his arms.
Lucky.
Yes.
Epilogue
Two Weeks Later
Finnegan’s on Broadway
“I was part of it all—and I still don’t get it,” Jensen said, shaking his head. “Okay, back to the beginning. Vivian Richter and Arlo Hampton made some kind of devil’s bargain. She’d kill Henry. He’d kill Ned. And no one would suspect either of them because it wouldn’t make sense. They wouldn’t be guilty of the same crime. But Micah wasn’t going to give up and they both knew he was coming to the opening of the exhibit. So she poisoned herself to throw off any possible suspicion?”
“Something like that,” Harley said. She’d just finished up the last of the work she’d told Jensen she would do. With Arlo and Vivian gone, he’d fallen behind with the exhibit. She’d also been eager to finish what she’d written about the murder of Amenmose. Everything would be on record at the museum, but it was a museum specializing in the ancient world—and her job here had been to explain what had happened to Amenmose and how it had all fit in with that world.
For Henry.
Arlo was still in the hospital. He’d regained consciousness, but the poison had swept away a great deal of his mind.
He had no idea he was guilty of conspiracy. Sadly, he wasn’t even sure who he was anymore, or what he’d done.
Vivian’s attorney was still telling her to shut up. She, too, however, had apparently had some kind of mental breakdown, because she wouldn’t stop talking to the press. She was going to go for an affirmative defense and claim that she’d been horribly abused by her husband and that he’d made her say things that weren’t true. She also insisted that Henry Tomlinson had killed himself and that she’d long been a victim of chauvinism and abuse at the hands of both men.
“It’s crazy. All crazy, huh?” Jensen asked her. “And you know what’s even crazier? That horrible woman killed Henry and her husband, she tried to kill you and me and that cop—and I still love being at the museum.”
“It’s a good museum. Henry was a very special man, and loving the museum just honors him,” Harley said.
“Hmm. And what about that cop? He was a jerk, and...well
, you know, he came by to apologize to me.”
“McGrady,” Harley said. “Yep. He apologized to me, too. And thanked me for saving his life. He told me he’s going to be a good cop—and that it’ll be because of me! I sure hope that’s true.”
“You can find out, I guess.”
Harley smiled. “Not for a while,” she said softly. “For right now—”
She stopped talking and got up; she saw that Micah and Craig had come into Finnegan’s. She waved, so the two of them could see her.
“Still don’t see why you have to go to Washington,” Jensen said.
Harley flashed him a smile. “Because I’m in love,” she told him.
“Yeah, yeah. And okay, he’s decent. And I’m happy for you both.”
“Funny, he says you’re decent, too. And he’s happy we’re friends.”
By then, Micah had come to the table. He greeted her with a kiss and Jensen with a handshake.
Craig reached the table next, and then Kieran arrived from her day job. Kevin came over, then Kieran’s youngest brother, Danny, and her older brother, Declan, joined them. Micah and Harley were surrounded by friends and family, and they were toasted. It was something of a goodbye party.
They might come back to New York eventually; a transfer was always possible for Micah. But Harley wanted to train with the FBI academy and work toward joining a profiling team.
Washington was best for both of them right now. Harley wasn’t giving up her uncle’s apartment; they’d be up visiting often enough.
Everyone talked; everyone had a great time.
Joe, Roger and Belinda came later—with Belinda being the happiest of the bunch. Her fiancé was back from his deployment overseas and their wedding was coming up.
“Will there be any kind of Egyptian motif?” Joe asked Belinda, smiling.
“No!”
“What about you guys?” Jensen asked Harley.
“No! Grace Church, and you’re all invited. We’ll let you know when.”
“No zombies, mummies, or any form of ancient lore?” Joe asked.
“No!” Harley and Micah said together, the word emphatic.
They celebrated awhile longer. Then it was time to split up, and they hugged and kissed each other on the cheek and promised to stay in touch.
The most difficult thing for Harley was to say goodbye to Kieran and Craig, but they wouldn’t be far away and they’d all go back and forth often.
“I know you don’t have a firm date for the wedding yet, but what are you thinking?” Kieran asked Harley.
“We have no solid plans yet. We just know where,” she said. “What about you two?”
Kieran laughed. “We have no solid plans, either. Not yet. All we know is that we will have a wedding, and oh, yes! The reception will be here!”
Micah caught Harley’s hand. “We have a lot of dating to do,” he told Kieran and Craig. “And apparently my proposal was lacking. I’m going to work on a better one. I’ll fill you in on how that goes. We might take a honeymoon before we actually do the marriage thing. I want to make sure Harley knows we have some great history down Virginia way, too. It’s not ancient, but it’s pretty cool. I’ve got a friend who’s working a dig in Jamestown. We can visit him for a while. And meanwhile, we’ll date...”
They left. They went to spend their last night in the apartment with the great windows and the beautiful loft that they’d have for a while.
“Yes, we need to date...” Micah said.
Harley whispered in his ear.
He smiled. “Oh yeah. That, too. Lots and lots of that!”
The moon shone through the windows.
They hurried up the curving wrought iron stairway.
Tonight was an ending and a beginning.
And a beautiful night, made for love and for loving.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from COLTON K-9 COP by Addison Fox.
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Colton K-9 Cop
by Addison Fox
Prologue
Five years ago
She held the garland loosely in her hand as she slowly unwound the bright gold in steady, even rows. Turn by turn, the empty green branches filled with the shiny, vivid color as Bellamy Reeves enjoyed watching her handiwork come to life.
Her parents had asked her to work the store this evening, their annual holiday event with the local men’s club a highlight of their year. She’d been happy to do it, the familiar work of managing the counter and ringing up purchases at Whisperwood’s only corner store something she’d been doing since childhood. It was a far cry from her work in finance at Lone Star Pharmaceutical but it kept her in touch with her roots and she enjoyed it.
Add on that it gave her a shot at stringing up the decorations just to her personal specifications, and it was a job she was happy to take on.
Maggie had teased her about risking spinsterhood if she were willing to work the family store on a holiday Saturday night and Bellamy had ignored her. Her sister was fond of quoting all the pithy reasons Bellamy was doomed to a lonely existence and she’d learned to ignore it.
Or, if not ignore it, at least stop caring about it so much.
Her sister was the resident beauty queen of Whisperwood, Texas. She’d had men wrapped around her finger basically since she’d crawled out of the womb and had learned to drape herself over their arms not much longer after that.
Bellamy was different.
She wasn’t afraid of men. Nor was she afraid of dating or putting herself out there. She dated regularly but just hadn’t found anyone who interested her. Or made her feel special.
She’d spent her life observing her parents’ marriage and knew that was the type of love and companionship she sought. A deep, abiding commitment that bonded the two of them together.
Tonight was a perfect example.
Although it was the men’s club event, both her parents enjoyed the evening in equal measure. It was nice, she mused as she dug in a large plastic container for another string of garland. And while the event might seem simple or unimportant—a dinner dance at the Whisperwood Lodge—it was something they looked forward to and talked about all year long.
The bell over the front door of the store jingled and Bellamy eyed the entrance as a well-built man pushed his way in, a pup
py cradled in his arms. Her father was fairly laid-back about the store, but since they sold food, animals were forbidden unless in service. “I’m sorry, sir, but the dog needs to stay outside.”
Dark brows slashed over even darker eyes and the guy juggled the black Lab pup from one well-formed arm to another, his biceps flexing as he shifted the limp bundle. “Believe it or not, he’s a service dog. In training,” the guy quickly added before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a badge. “I’m with the Austin PD. I’m his handler.”
The sight of the puppy—and the sudden delight she didn’t need to kick them out—had her crossing the store to greet them. “He’s sweet.”
“And sick, I think. He’s not very energetic and he won’t eat.”
“Oh.” She reached out to lay a hand on the small head, the fur silky soft over the bony ridges of his skull. He was small, but the large paws that hung over the man’s forearms indicated the puppy would be a big guy once fully grown.
“I wanted to pick up some chicken and rice and hoped you’d have what I needed.”
“Would you believe me if I told you I had both already cooked in the stockroom?”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. They’re my bland leftovers from lunch that I brought along in some vague attempt to offset Christmas cookie consumption.”
Although he wasn’t inappropriate, his eyes drifted over her body before settling back on her face. “You’re dieting?”
Heat burned a path where he’d gazed, that steady appreciation lighting a fire. “I prefer to think of it as holiday calorie management. A goal I’m failing at miserably, seeing as how the bland chicken and even blander rice were horrible.”
“Why not toss it?”
“Some vague notion of trying again tomorrow. You know—” she waved a hand as she headed for the back of the store “—to make up for the pizza I ate in its place today.”
A hearty laugh followed her through the swinging door into the stockroom and she beelined for the fridge and the leftovers.
Her father’s store carried all the basic necessities of a convenience store and boasted a fairly hearty kitchen out front to accommodate the breakfast and lunch crowds who buzzed in for coffee and portable meals. She’d nuke the chicken and rice out at the counter and be able to keep an eye on the front door at the same time.