Deadly Intuition (Hardy Brothers Security Book 2) Read online

  Deadly Intuition

  Hardy Brothers Security

  Book Two

  By Lily Harper Hart

  Text copyright © 2014 Lily Harper Hart

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Up Next

  Coming Soon

  Author’s Note

  Books by Lily Harper Hart

  One

  Grady Hardy leaned over the pool table, his shoulder-length brown hair dipping low, and lined his cue up with the ball. He pulled the stick back, letting loose with a quick tap, and shooting the white orb down the table at a high rate of speed. The triangle of colored balls at the end scattered on impact, several balls racing into open holes.

  “Nice break,” his brother, Finn said, glancing around the green-felt rectangular expanse thoughtfully. “You want solids or stripes?”

  It was a weekday night, and the brothers were opting to stay in and play pool rather than go out and pick up women. For tonight anyway – tomorrow, of course, was a different story.

  “I’ll take solids,” Grady said, striding around the table to gauge his next shot.

  “How long do you think James and Mandy will be gone?” Finn asked.

  The Hardy brothers were hanging around their brother’s apartment – mostly because he had a refrigerator full of beer, a massive flat-screen television, and a highly-entertaining gaming table – while their brother and his girlfriend were out for the night.

  “James said he was taking her to dinner and then dancing,” Grady said. “I’m thinking they could be late.”

  Finn quirked an eyebrow. “Dancing?”

  “I know.”

  “Our brother is voluntarily out dancing?”

  “I know,” Grady said. “I can’t quite believe it myself. I guess that’s what love does to you.”

  “I like Mandy,” Finn argued. “I think she’s good for him.”

  “I like Mandy, too,” Grady replied. “I just can’t believe how quickly she’s whipped James into shape – whipped being the operative word.”

  Finn snorted. “It’s not like she nags him or anything. I think he just likes making her happy.”

  “Which freaks me out,” Grady admitted. “I would never have considered James to be the type of guy that would go out of his way for a woman.”

  “Mandy isn’t a normal woman,” Finn reminded him. “Mandy is … special.”

  Grady paused at the end of the table, gripping his pool stick and leaning forward, his face thoughtful. “I think he’s really happy,” he said.

  “Me, too.”

  “No, I mean really happy.”

  “I know what you mean,” Finn said.

  James Hardy had reconnected with Mandy Avery a few months back. The Hardy brothers knew Mandy from their hometown, Barker Creek, which was located in northern Lower Michigan. She was younger than them – but she’d still been an honorary member of their family for years thanks to her close association with their sister, Ally.

  After military stints, all three Hardy brothers settled in suburban Detroit and opened their own security company. After an attempt on her life, Mandy approached the brothers for help – and sparks flew between the blonde woman and eldest Hardy brother the minute they laid eyes on each other again after more than a decade apart.

  Despite a few bumps along the way, they’d been pretty much inseparable since. A fact that left Finn and Grady without their wingman – not that they begrudged their brother his happiness.

  The brothers jumped when the apartment door flew open, revealing James in the doorway. He had his arm around Mandy’s waist, supporting her, and he didn’t look happy.

  “What happened?” Grady asked.

  James raised his eyebrows but didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he led Mandy into the bathroom – depositing her on the floor next to the toilet – before wandering back into the living room.

  “Is she sick?” Finn asked, peering into the bathroom.

  Mandy responded by bolting upright and immediately vomiting into the toilet.

  “Oh, gross,” Grady said.

  “What happened?” Finn pressed.

  James dumped a small, white bag on the pool table – not caring that he was interrupting his brothers’ game – and then stripped his black leather jacket off, dropping it on the nearby couch. “Food poisoning.”

  “That was quick,” Grady said. “Where did you take her?”

  “The Embers,” James said. “She wanted crab legs.”

  Grady leaned back so he could get a clear view of Mandy, who was still kneeling in front of the toilet and resting her head on the white seat. “She doesn’t look so good.”

  “Yeah? Well the doctor says she’s going to feel like death for the next twenty-four hours,” James said, running his hand through his mid-length brown hair.

  “You already took her to the doctor?”

  “I took her to emergency care,” he said. “She got scary sick. Like … really scary sick.”

  “In your truck?” Finn asked, revulsion washing over his face.

  “No, in the restaurant.”

  Grady fought the mad urge to laugh. “So, let me see if I understand this, you dropped two hundred bucks on dinner, watched your girlfriend puke in the restaurant, and then you took her to urgent care?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Wow, what a fun evening.”

  “Why aren’t you sick?” Finn asked.

  “I had a steak,” James replied. “It’s the seafood making her sick.”

  “Well, that’s what she gets for ordering the most expensive thing on the menu,” Grady teased. “It’s karma.”

  James moved away from him tiredly. “Open that bag and read the instructions on the box.”

  “What is it?”

  “Something the doctor gave me,” James said. “It’s supposed to make her feel better.”

  James disappeared into his bedroom, returning a minute later with two pillows and the comforter from his bed. He dropped the comforter and pillows on the floor in the bathroom and then returned to his bedroom. He was gone longer this time, and when he finally came back into view, he’d changed out of his suit and was wearing a pair of knit shorts and a T-shirt. He had a pair of his boxer shorts and another T-shirt in his hand.

  “Finn, go down to my office and get the fan off my desk,” James ordered before reentering the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

  Grady shrugged at Finn’s unanswered question, so the youngest Hardy brother did as he was told. Hardy Brothers Security was housed in an office building in Sterling Heights, a city located about twenty miles north of Detroit. James had turned the second floor of the building into his own private apartment.

  When Finn returned from his errand, the electric fan in hand, the door to the bathroom was still shut. “What are they doing in there?”

  “Well, I don’t think they’re doing anythin
g fun,” Grady said. “I heard her puke again.”

  “God, this sucks. She must be miserable.”

  “You think?”

  The door to the bathroom swung open, and this time James strode out with the black dress Mandy had been wearing for their date draped over his arm. For her part, Mandy was back on the floor, dressed in James’ boxer shorts and oversized shirt, and worshipping the porcelain throne again.

  Grady leaned against the pool table as he watched the show. James was back in his bedroom, and Grady could hear hangers moving across a metal rod – which meant James was actually putting the dress away correctly. It was like he was watching one of those weird cleaning shows or something.

  James popped back into the living room, motioning for Finn to bring him the fan.

  “What’s this for?” Finn asked.

  “She likes to sleep with a fan,” James replied. “The one in the bedroom is a pedestal fan. It won’t be able to hit her with any air when she’s on the floor.”

  James retreated into the bathroom again, placing the fan on the floor next to the bathtub and plugging the chord into the outlet on top of the counter. He flicked the power button and then adjusted the fan so it was blowing air directly on Mandy’s face. James then opened one of the side drawers in the vanity and rummaged around before moving toward her stooped frame, this time with a hair brush and Scrunchee in his hand. He knelt down next to her, rubbing her tight shoulders for a second, and then brushing her hair back so he could secure it away from her pale face with the Scrunchee.

  He left her in the bathroom and returned to his dumbfounded brothers. “What did that box say?”

  “Where did you learn to do that?” Finn asked.

  James ignored him, keeping his eyes trained on Grady.

  “It says that it will help her sleep,” Grady said.

  “Well, that’s something at least.”

  “It also says she can’t take it until she’s gone at least four hours without throwing up,” Grady said, suddenly nervous his brother was going to take out his frustration on him.

  James frowned. “How is that supposed to help? So she has to be miserable all night?”

  “It’s food poisoning, man,” Grady said. “I think you’re miserable regardless. You have to just let it run its course.”

  James growled angrily and then strode over to the refrigerator – opening the door and returning with two bottles of water. He glanced back up at his brothers. “You guys need to go.”

  “Just shut the door,” Grady said. “She won’t even notice we’re here. You can play the winner.” He could hear Mandy gearing up for another round in the other room. “Trust me. She doesn’t care what we’re doing out here.”

  James shot him a hard look. “She’s sick.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  James shook his head disgustedly. “You’re not staying here.” He walked through the apartment, shutting the light off in the bedroom and hallway before moving back into the bathroom.”

  Grady watched incredulously as James settled onto the cold, linoleum floor next to Mandy.

  “You don’t have to stay in here,” Mandy croaked. “This is so gross.”

  James rubbed wide circles on Mandy’s back, brushing a light kiss against the back of her neck. “I can live with gross.”

  “I don’t want you to see me like this,” Mandy admitted.

  “Yeah? Well, I can’t sleep without you. It’s sad, but true. I’d rather be miserable in here with you than miserable in the other room without you. I figured I could tell you sports stories to entertain you.”

  Mandy scowled. “You know I hate your sports stories.”

  “I believe you said they made you fall asleep,” James corrected. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

  Grady glanced over at Finn, not quite believing what he was seeing. “Is he going to sleep on the bathroom floor with her?”

  “It looks like it,” Finn said, equally flabbergasted.

  “That’s going above and beyond.”

  Finn nodded wordlessly.

  In the other room, James positioned the pillows so he could lean against them. He made eye contact with Grady briefly. “Shut off the light and lock the door when you leave.”

  Grady and Finn did as instructed, not risking the inclination to look at each other until they were safely in the stairwell. Once they were alone and away from the frightening tableau playing out in James’ apartment, they burst into uncontrollable laughter.

  “If I ever get that way, just shoot me,” Grady said, wheezing because he was laughing so hard. “I’m serious. Just shoot me.”

  Two

  “So, let me get this straight,” Grady said. “Mandy gets sick, and now I have to do more work?”

  James was sitting behind his desk in the main office of Hardy Brothers Security the next morning, dark circles under his eyes, regarding his brother with what could only be described as disdain. “It’s not like I’ve asked you to do something big.”

  Grady frowned, annoyance rippling through him. “Why can’t you do it?”

  “I already told you why.”

  “Because Mandy’s sick?”

  “Right.”

  “Does Mandy usually do this for you?”

  James scowled. “Just do it.”

  “And if I just go to the newspaper and ask for Kristen, this woman is going to know what I need?” Grady was fighting to tamp down his irritation.

  “Just tell her to run the same ad from last week,” James replied. “This isn’t rocket science.”

  “I didn’t even know we ran ads,” Grady said. “That seems beneath us.”

  “Do you think clients just magically find us?” James asked, rubbing his stubbly jaw wearily. “There is a little more to it than that.”

  “And we run an ad every week?”

  “Every week.”

  Grady blew out a sigh. “Fine. I still don’t understand how this is my job.”

  “Well, since I sign your paychecks and I need you to do it, I think it’s your job.”

  Grady held up his hands in mock surrender. “You’re crabby. I get it.”

  “I’m not crabby. I’m tired.”

  “She’s still not feeling better?”

  “She stopped throwing up every twenty minutes around dawn,” James said. “She still feels like she’s dying.”

  “Which makes you feel like you’re dying,” Grady teased, grabbing his heart dramatically.

  “Will you just do this for me?”

  Grady took the file from James’ outstretched hand. “You got it.” He moved toward the office door. “Just one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Where is the Daily Tribune?”

  GRADY pulled up in front of the single-story building on the edge of Mount Clemens, the county seat of Macomb County where Hardy Brothers Security was located in Southeastern Michigan, and found himself less than impressed.

  His entire knowledge of newspapers had been gleaned from television and movies. This didn’t look like some bustling hub of activity. In fact, it looked a little sad.

  Grady killed the engine and climbed out of his truck, running a hand through his dark hair and glancing around. The only other person in the parking lot was a striking brunette in a short, black skirt with knee-high, black leather boots. Her hair was long, several inches past her shoulders, falling down her back in a mass of untidy waves. Her features were narrow, high cheekbones offsetting a plump and pronounced set of pouty lips.

  Grady was immediately interested. Maybe this trip to the newspaper wouldn’t be a waste of time after all.

  The woman was juggling a cup of coffee, several files, and a notebook – and the files slipped from her hand as she reached for the door handle. Grady increased his speed, dropping to his knees to help her pick up the scattered papers when he got nearer.

  Up close, she was even more impressive and – for a second – Grady found himself lost in the depths of her chocolate eyes.

&nb
sp; The woman smiled as Grady handed her the sheets of paper he’d collected. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  Grady straightened up and opened the door, holding it so she could slip inside ahead of him. Her little flair skirt was causing a chemical reaction in his brain, but he managed to keep his libido in check long enough to open the second set of doors so the woman could enter the building without dropping her load.

  A plump and pleasing secretary greeted them with a wide smile from behind the receptionist’s desk. “Welcome to the Daily Tribune.”

  “I work here,” the woman answered, her tone dry.

  “I was talking to the gentleman behind you,” the secretary replied. “There’s no need to be … rude, Sophie.”

  So, her name was Sophie. It fit.

  Grady ambled over to the front desk, leaning against it and fixing the receptionist with a flirtatious smile. “I’m Grady Hardy. I’m here for someone in your advertising department named Kristen.”

  “Grady Hardy? As in Hardy Brothers Security?” The receptionist asked, giggling.

  “That would be the one.”

  “Where is James? He usually comes in.” The receptionist must have been hired because she was so bubbly, Grady realized. Either she was heavily medicated, or it was all an act.

  “He has a domestic issue at home.”

  “Nothing serious I hope,” the receptionist said. “I always look forward to his visits.”

  The Hardy brothers were known for their charm. James had obviously used it on this woman a time or two. “He’s fine. His girlfriend is throwing up all over the place, though.”

  The receptionist frowned. “He has a girlfriend?”

  Grady realized his mistake. “She’s a … recent addition.”

  “Not serious, though, right?”

  “Probably not,” Grady lied. What? There was no reason to wreck the woman’s fantasy.

  Sophie snorted and moved to another set of glass doors at the far end of the lobby. Grady turned his attention in her direction as the receptionist scorched her with a hateful look.

  “Sophie, I don’t suppose you could show Mr. Hardy the way to advertising, could you?”

  Sophie tilted her head to the side. “Isn’t that your job, Marge?”

  “I just figured, since you were going in that direction anyway, you could help out,” Marge shot back. “Aren’t we all one big, happy team here at the Daily Tribune?”