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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.”
