Silent Night Suspect by Sharee Stover

Author:Sharee Stover
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2019-09-05T16:24:09+00:00

* * *

Asia lifted the blond wig from the bathroom counter and balanced it on one hand while using the other to finger-groom the wayward strands.

True to his word, Slade had found a large plastic tub filled with costumes in the basement of his aunt’s home. They’d spent over an hour rummaging through the mixture of odds and ends to come up with a believable ensemble for each of them.

She tugged the hairpiece down over her ears, then tucked her own stray locks of dark hair inside. The wig’s short wisps aged her twenty years and transformed her into a stranger. She slid a pair of black-rimmed eyeglasses on her nose and studied her appearance. Adorned in the navy business suit, she didn’t recognize herself. Perfect.

A knock followed by Slade’s baritone voice interrupted the inspection. “Ready?”

“Come on in.”

The bathroom door swung open. Slade took a step forward then leaned against the frame, sporting a full graying beard, complete with matching eyebrows that sprouted above his round spectacle frames. His red-and-blue-striped sweater-vest complemented the khaki pants.

Asia tried—unsuccessfully—to stop the burst of giggles that escaped.

“I take it my disguise works?” Slade wriggled his eyebrows, making them dance above his glasses.

“Whew, give me a second.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “It’s perfect. You remind me of old man Jenkins. Although I think Trey will be our true litmus test.” She smoothed down the jacket and fluffed her wig. “Let’s do this.”

Asia tucked her arm into his crooked elbow, and they made their way to the living room.

Trey glanced up from the newspaper he held, wearing a wide grin. “You two look great. Asia, you resemble Aunt Velma in that outfit. And, Slade...well...you’re looking more like Dad.”

Slade glanced down. “Yeah, I noticed that too.”

Trey folded the paper. “Are you sure you don’t want me to follow you?”

Magnum lay at his feet, his triangle-shaped head over enormous brown paws. He raised a furry eyebrow but didn’t move.

“No, but keep your phone close. If there are any issues, I’ve got you on speed dial. We plan to be back within an hour.”

“Alrighty.” Trey lifted his paper again.

Asia aimed for the garage, but Slade grasped her arm. “We’re riding in style.” He pointed out the window to the seventies sedan—complete with chipping two-tone, blue-and-white paint and rusted everything else—parked across the street.

She paused. “Where did that come from?”

“I had it dropped off for us. I don’t want to use Aunt Velma’s car or Trey’s. We need to keep Quenten’s men guessing.”

They walked out of the house and headed to the jalopy. Slade tugged open the passenger door, and it squeaked an unpleasant response.

Asia slid into the dusty interior, wrinkling her nose at the stale air. The cracked plastic seats revealed lines where yellowed cushion material peeked through.

Slade entered the driver’s side, snapped his seat belt then started the engine. A loud screeching whine emitted from under the hood. “Needs a new serpentine belt,” he explained.

“Are you sure this contraption is safe?”

“I hope so,” he murmured.

They headed out of the small town and onto the highway.

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