Ninja Soccer Moms (7 page)

“Not bad,” Gabe said. “Same way I came in.”

“Hmm.” I tried not to let Gabe's compliment distract me. CDs were scattered on the desk. Gabe was looking through the CDs. What for? I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and went to the desk. I picked up a CD. It was for Microsoft Word.

That was it. I snapped my gaze up to the screen.

“Someone's already been here.” Gabe said as he came up behind me and leaned over my shoulder. “The computer is wiped clean.”

Just a few stray icons were left on the computer, like My Computer, Recycle Bin, and the Printer icon, but there were no files for Excel or things like that. “Nothing left?”

“Nothing.”

“Why?” I couldn't begin to figure it out. The killer wiping the computer clean was the obvious answer, but why? “Did you go through these CDs to see what had been on the computer?” I thumbed through. I recognized PowerPoint, since my kids used that for reports and stuff. Scanner programs. All kinds of stuff. Turning my head, I looked at Gabe.

He didn't answer.

It made sense that Gabe had been trying to figure out what had been wiped off the computer by looking at the CDs. Maybe. Unless Gabe had been the one to wipe all the files off the computer. Why would he do that, though? To protect Dara? From what?

I turned around. “Gabe, did you do it? Wipe the computer clean?” Gabe and I had done that once before. We'd broken into a house to get some personal sex videos of clients off the Internet.

“No. Look, Sam, this is getting dangerous. Someone bashed in Chad's head, and they are going to a lot of trouble to cover their tracks.”

I stared up at him. He had on his jean jacket over a dark shirt stretched tight across his chest. His deep, intense eyes watched me. “You know something.”

He did the hard cop stare.

Frustration tightened the back of my neck. My insides turned over. Had I lost Gabe?
Don't,
I warned myself.
Stay focused on the case.
Unless . . . Maybe I could convince Gabe to tell me what he knew.

I wasn't exactly dressed for seduction, with the drying mud on my butt, and frizzy hair. But it was worth a try. “Come on, Gabe.” I put my hand on his arm. It was rock hard under the jean jacket. Moving in closer to his body, I slid my other hand inside the jacket and around his waist. I leaned my head back, looking up into his face.
Look sexy,
I thought.

I ran my tongue around my lips and said, “Tell me what you know about Chad's murder.”

He arched a brow.

I moved my other hand beneath his jacket, running them both around his back and down his hips. He had a tight butt. I clutched both cheeks. “Tell me what you know. Just a little hint . . .” I left off suggestively.

“A hint?” His voice was thick, almost choked.

I nodded my head, leaning my breasts into his chest. “Just a hint.” Dang, I was getting kind of hot. Who am I kidding? Gabe always makes me hot.

In a husky voice, he said, “Okay, here's a hint—try it naked next time.”

Naked? Gabe naked sprang into my mind. All long hard limbs, flat stomach, excellent package . . . I jumped back. Gabe's voice wasn't husky with lust. He was holding back laughter. I glared at him. “You knew!”

He burst out laughing.

I whirled around and stormed over to the computer.

Gabe's arm shot around my waist and yanked me back against him. Still laughing, he said into my neck. “Practice, babe. You'll get better.”

Humiliation burned my face. At least he couldn't see that from behind me. But Gabe had taught me a thing or two. “You think?” I asked in a purr, while I quickly locked my hands together and shifted enough to my left to send my right elbow flying backward into his stomach.

His breath blew past my ear in a foul word, and he let go of me.

I whirled around. “Suck eggs, Pulizzi.” Not my best line, but I straightened my spine and headed for the door. I had a couple of clues I could work with. Like the computer being wiped clean. My thoughts were cut off by Gabe's arm around my waist. Again, he dragged me back against his chest.

Did he want a fight? I stuck my hand in my purse and latched onto my defense spray.

Gabe put his mouth to my ear. “Shh, someone's in the house.”

I froze. I felt the coiled tension in his body behind me. He wasn't playing now. Fear washed over me, humming in my ears. Since my hand was already around the defense spray in my purse, I pulled it out.

Then I remembered Angel. All the hard lines in Gabe's body were pressed into my back. I could feel his tension as he strained to listen. Finally, I enlightened him. “That's just Angel.”

He barely grunted and tightened his arm around my waist. “No, Angel is in the kitchen. Someone's coming in the front door.”

Well, that was disappointing. He even knew Angel was downstairs. We hadn't put anything over on Gabe. Then I heard it, too. The scrape of a key in a lock.

“Stay here.” Gabe let go of me and headed out of the door.

God, what if it was the killer? Angel was down there! I rushed out of the room and down the stairs.

The front door pushed open just as I stepped off the last step. Gabe was flush up against the wall. He reached out and yanked whoever was on the front porch inside and then flung them down.

I leaped off the bottom step and aimed my defense spray at the intruder on the ground. “Don't move or I'll spray!” I shouted, then looked down.

Rick Mesa, Chad's best friend and assistant coach, was sprawled on the floor. His eye darted between the can of defense spray in my hand and Gabe at my side. “What the hell?” Fast and athletic, Rick kicked out, knocking my hand aside, and got to his feet. He crouched for a fight.

My can of defense spray hit the carpet and rolled to a stop about six feet away. I looked back at Rick.

He had totally disregarded me as a threat and was sizing up Gabe. At about five-ten, Rick was tight and wiry, but no match for Gabe. Though he did look pissed enough to try to take him. “Rick,” I shouted, throwing myself between the two men.

Rick dropped his gaze to me. “Sam? What are you doing here? Who is this clown?” He waved a hand past me toward Gabe.

“That's Gabe Pulizzi. He's, uh, a private detective. I'm helping Janie out. What are you doing here?”

Rick stared at Gabe for a long minute and then looked back at me. “Janie didn't say anything about you being here.”

Of course she didn't, since I hadn't told her where I was going when I had her on my phone. To get past that little problem, I went on the offensive. “What are you doing here, Rick?”

Rick looked around the house. “Getting some clothes for Janie to bury Chad in.”

“Humph,” Gabe grunted behind me.

Apparently, that was a popular excuse. I ignored Gabe. “Oh, I see you have a key.”

Rick gave me a deadpan stare. “Look, why don't you guys just leave? I want to . . . you know . . . take care of this job for Janie and get out of here.”

Remorse slithered around in my belly. “Yeah, uh, Rick, I'm really sorry. I know Chad was your best friend. It's really terrible.”

“Yeah, it is. Don't make it worse, Sam.”

“Make it worse? How much worse could it get?” I'd never heard easygoing Rick so much as raise his voice. He was calm in dealing with kids and extraordinary at handling crazed parents. I had a great deal of respect for Rick. So his almost belligerent tone surprised me. Were the lines of strain around his eyes and mouth grief, or something else?

“It could get worse. Sophie called me and told me you were stirring up trouble. Stay out of this, Sam.”

This was getting way out of hand. Anger rushed into my blood, bypassing my brain to pump words straight out my mouth. “What are you hiding, Rick? Is SCOLE trying to hide that Chad embezzled money? Well, it's too late. We already know about that.” God, I was pissed. Another thought leaped in the fiery mess in my brain. “Is that why you guys removed Janie as treasurer last year? You didn't want her to expose Chad's embezzling?” God, would they sink that low? I didn't want to believe it. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt Gabe's hand on my shoulder. In my anger, I'd forgotten he stood behind me. I had to calm down.

“What are you talking about? What money?” He stared at me as if I'd popped out a third breast.

He didn't know. A sense of relief spread through me. I liked Rick. Always had. He's one of the genuinely nice guys, and I didn't want him to be a liar and a cheat. “I don't get it, Rick. What's the big secret that you all are trying to hide?”

“We're not hiding anything.” He sighed. “Look Sam, it's bad enough that Chad was murdered. We don't want bad publicity to make this worse.” He set his jaw.

I knew he wouldn't tell me anything else.

“Why, Rick.” Angel walked out of the kitchen, her smooth seductive voice breaking the tension. “Hello.” She flashed a killer smile at Rick.

Rick's grim expression melted in a shy smile, making him look like a teenager instead of a thirty-something-year-old man. His coloring deepened. “Hi.”

Angel looked over at me. “I finished cleaning the perishables out of the fridge, Sam. Nothing to worry about in the freezer, either.”

Decoding Angel's message, I knew that she didn't find anything interesting in the kitchen, like, say, sixteen thousand dollars of missing soccer money in the fridge or freezer. “Thanks, Angel. I know Janie will appreciate it.”

Gabe dropped his hand from my shoulder and moved to my side. “Now that you ladies are finished, why don't you run along and I'll lock up?”

I smiled. “We're not finished. But you can go. Your mom's probably waiting for you at the beauty salon.”

Rick finally tore his gaze from Angel to look at me. “I think you should all get out of here. Now.” He looked pointedly at the front door.

I decided to try one more time. “Rick—”

“Sam.” Gabe's voice interrupted.

I held my hand up, trying to keep Gabe out of this. I wanted to find out what Rick knew.

“Behind you,” Gabe said.

I turned and almost screamed. “Mom! What are you doing here?” I couldn't believe it. She had obviously walked in the sliding glass door across the family room. Wasn't anything in this house locked? My mom looked like she'd just arrived to show the house. She had on a winter white skirt and jacket, with a black silk shell beneath. Her blond hair sat in a perfect wedge cut, and she carried a slim black briefcase.

“Chad had been thinking of putting his house on the market. According to my sources, Janie Tuggle, as guardian of the kids, will inherit. I came by to make sure the house is in shape to sell.”

I stared at my mom. She did not get to be the real estate queen of Lake Elsinore by being squeamish, but that was a little too ghoulish, even for her. “Mom, that's gross.”

“That's business, Samantha.” Unzipping her black case, she went on. “I'm not even going to ask what you and—” her gaze traveled to Gabe, tightening her perfectly lined mouth—“he are doing here. Ah, here it is.” She pulled out a glossy brochure, walked a few steps on her black heels and waved it at me. “This is the resort in Phoenix we will be staying at the last week of January. In between studying for your real estate license, we can network to build your resources. We will also work on your wardrobe. I suppose there's a reasonable explanation for the dirt all over your backside?”

I'd been ducking my mom all day, and she caught me in a dead man's house. Figures. Shaking my head, I ignored the brochure in her hand and said, “Mom, the boys are in school. I can't go with you.” I hated real estate.

“Nonsense. Dad will watch the boys, and Blaine will run the office. I already told them.”

God, she arranged my life with Grandpa and my employee before even asking me. In fact, she wasn't asking me now, she was telling me. “Mom!”

Angel's voice cut through my wail of frustration. “Attention, boys and girls!”

We all turned to look at Angel, who was peering between the green slats of the blinds of the front window. “Detective Logan Vance is parking his car in the driveway. He is accompanied by a locksmith van.”

“Oh, shit.” I looked at Gabe. “What now?”

“Run.”

We all headed for the sliding glass door like a massive hive of bees. After getting out to the backyard, Gabe slid the door shut. Just then we heard a car door slam.

Vance. On his way to the front door.

Gabe grabbed my elbow. “Can you jump the fence?”

“Yes.” Maybe. My mom had disappeared around the corner, heading toward the back gate. “My mom!” I whispered.

“Can handle Vance.” Gabe tugged me between the pool and the fishpond on my right. I looked up. Angel and Rick were going over the back fence, using a two-foot retaining wall to give them a leg up.

We ran over the rain-dampened cement between the pool and fishpond. I focused on the fence, praying I could get over it. I didn't want to get caught by Vance—“Oh!” My boot heel slid on the cement edge of the pond. My elbow slid from Gabe's grasp. Teetering for a long second, I flung out my arms to get my balance.

My left arm swung into Gabe's hand reaching for me, knocking it away.

I fell sideways into the fishpond. Cold, mucky water closed over my face. Sputtering, I shoved myself up on my elbow.

Gabe and I locked gazes for a long second. Brackish, fishy water seeped through my red top and jeans and dripped from my hair. Then he said, “Good luck explaining to Vance,” and jogged to the fence.