No Place Like Home Read online

  NO PLACE LIKE HOME

  Mischievous Malamute Mystery Series Book 7

  Harley Christensen

  Copyright © 2022 Harley Christensen

  Cover Photo:

  Copyright Matt Artz — Windows | Unsplash

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  For Max

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  About Harley

  Other Books By Harley

  Connect with Harley

  Prologue

  Leah Campbell

  Leah cursed herself for all the times she’d committed—and then failed—to clean out her vehicle’s trunk, now that she had been forced to battle the car jack (a.k.a. CJ), a nuisance that had issues respecting one’s personal space, particularly where her ribs were concerned.

  That being said, whoever had conked her on the head and dumped her in here with all this crap was going to suffer.

  Badly.

  She decided that the second they’d messed with her hair.

  Wrong move, dudes.

  Gritting her teeth as she attempted to shift her body weight, she vowed there would be no tears. The pain from CJ was just the latest in a string of injuries she’d sustained. And she would handle it.

  Instead, she used what energy she had left to assess the situation. Time had gotten away from her upon meeting with the wrong side of a fist after she’d backhanded her attacker when he’d grabbed a fistful of pointy locks.

  Best guess? Several hours had passed. She smelled less ripe than she would have had those hours transitioned into days.

  At least she had that going for her.

  As her head bounced against the wheel well, no thanks to the driver, she pieced together the events leading up to her current predicament. Most of which she wasn’t all that proud of.

  Days earlier, she had lied to the only person she could count on. She’d seen the hurt in her best friend’s eyes when she’d packed her belongings, claiming she was heading to Los Angeles to work on a long-term project.

  That was before she’d turned her back on their friendship and walked out the door.

  She knew it was cowardly but couldn’t bear to continue looking in the rear-view mirror as she pulled away, even though she had seen AJ lingering on the sidewalk, her hand held high in the air in a feeble attempt to wave, just before she had collapsed onto the pavement and folded into herself, her shaking frame visible.

  Only when Leah had safely exited the neighborhood did she allow the tears to fall. She’d never lied to her best friend before. Not in twenty-plus years.

  But making AJ believe a lie had been safer than telling her the truth.

  Hadn’t it?

  Leah chuckled just thinking about what AJ would have done had she revealed her plan, wincing again in pain at the movement—her nose was probably cracked, if not broken. Yet it felt good to laugh.

  Still, she’d hated how they’d left things, and now that it was likely she’d never get the chance to make it right, she wished she’d never broken her best friend’s heart.

  Her intentions had been genuine—Shelby had gone missing, after all—and AJ would have respected and understood that.

  Thinking of Shelby brought forth another type of anxiety…and pain.

  Was the girl still alive?

  After weeks of searching, she’d finally caught a glimpse of her former co-worker, followed by that desperate call. Shelby had reached out to warn her, only to have the connection broken.

  Moments later, she’d been accosted. She hadn’t seen it coming, nor had she seen her attackers, other than to note that they were swift and strong—and seriously lacking a sense of humor.

  Just then, her body slammed into the front of the trunk as the vehicle came to an abrupt halt.

  Grimacing as she rolled on her back and shook off stars that did not look like any member of Duran Duran, her heart stopped short as she heard heavy boots collide with the ground. Panic infused every nerve as she contemplated her options. Even her feet were useless as weapons as they were not only bound but also tangled in the crap that surrounded her.

  Chalk it up to lessons learned the hard way.

  Her hands were no better of a match, even if her shoulder hadn’t been dislocated and one of her arms possibly fractured. As it turned out, zip ties were effective, though they really sucked if one was on the opposite side of ‘em.

  The trunk opened and a familiar face stared down, smirking at the pathetic scene, despite her previous bravado.

  Leah hacked out a harsh laugh that betrayed the resignation she felt deep in her gut.

  “Let’s agree not to insult one another by beating around the proverbial bush, shall we? Why don’t you just tell me—how does this end?”

  The smirk of her adversary transitioned into a sneer, followed by a wicked laugh that made her stomach churn.

  “You tell us, Campbell.”

  Chapter One

  Arianna Jackson (AJ)

  “She never got on the flight and her possessions—luggage, laptop, notebooks, purse, identification, etc.—were left behind.”

  Abe’s words cycled through my head in slow motion as I tried to make sense of the fact that my best friend’s car had been located at the airport.

  True, she had been leaving town, or so I thought, but she had intended to drive to L.A. Not fly there.

  Then again, she had also told me she was going to Los Angeles to work on a long-term project for Abe, which he’d just confirmed was false.

  I couldn’t remember the last time Leah had lied to me and even when she had, it was over something stupid, like eating two cookies when she’d really eaten a dozen. Or pretending she liked my silver spandex when we were going through a 1980s reboot phase.

  But packing her belongings for an extended research job with Abe and his brother, Elijah, at Stanton Investigations in Los Angeles?

  So not Leah Campbell.

  I could have shrugged it off had her vehicle not been abandoned.

  With blood dripping from the trunk.

  And no Leah in sight.

  That was disturbing enough, but why was Ramirez involved?

  Speaking of the devil.

  Easing into the roundabout that fronted the home I’d inherited when my parents unexpectedly passed, a familiar truck had taken up some prime real estate. Also known as my parking spot. Nicoh and I had company awaiting us, but my guard dog was apparen
tly on sabbatical as he leisurely chewed his paw, his massive frame spanning the backseat.

  I sighed. I’d known I was going to have this chat eventually and guessed that it was better to have my former beau deliver the news about my best friend than a member of law enforcement who hadn’t frequented my doorstep.

  Believe me, as of late, it would have been hard to drum one up. If the rumors had made their way around, other officers would have drawn straws and given a fist-pump to the universe when they lucked out on not having to perform that task.

  Dark circles lined the underside of his eyes. His usual swagger was stiff and slow, as though the movement intensified the pain with each step. His hair was longer than I’d seen it, grazing the top of his ears and tickling the back of his neck. But road-worn or not, the hummingbirds flitting about in my stomach suggested he still knew how to show up on the scene.

  Taking a deep breath, I not so gracefully stumbled out of my vehicle and strode toward the detective, who surveyed me with the intensity of a hawk; his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, tugging them down ever so slightly. I frowned. He’d lost weight, too.

  He noticed me staring and started to speak, but I beat him to the punchline. Or rather, I shifted from his current state to Leah’s.

  “Just lay it on me, Ramirez. How bad is it?”

  “Bad,” he replied, his eyes never straying from mine.

  I scowled, almost having forgotten his affinity for single-word responses.

  “Are you sure you want to do this out here?” He nodded over my shoulder. I twisted my head, noting that one of the neighbors was peering at us from behind their splayed blinds. If they didn’t want us seeing them, they’d have to do a better job. Or maybe that was the point—they wanted us to know they were watching. Probably even had their itchy little fingers on speed-dial, ready to call the cops.

  Little did they know, he had already arrived.

  “Fine. Nicoh! Get your lazy butt out here.”

  My well-trained canine ignored the passenger door I had opened for him and hopped on the driver’s seat before jumping out of the driver’s side door and ambling over to Ramirez’s outstretched hand.

  “Traitor,” I mumbled as I slammed the doors before stomping toward the house.

  The luggage would have to wait.

  Everything would have to wait.

  Until Ramirez answered my questions.

  To my satisfaction.

  I unlocked the door and hustled in to turn the alarm off. After a cursory glance around, I ushered Ramirez and Nicoh in before turning the air conditioning on to cycle out the air that had been bottled up since I left for L.A.

  “So, I’m afraid to ask. If homicide is involved…where’s the body?”

  “No body,” he replied, his gaze searching mine.

  “Ramirez,” I ground out between clenched teeth. “I hate to remind you, but you sought me out. This is my house. And if I have to continue drawing every word from you like a cartoon bubble, I guarantee there will be. A body.” I added that last bit in case he wasn’t clear.

  He was.

  Shaking his head as he leaned back onto the arm of the couch, he absently scratched Nicoh’s ears.

  “Fine. But what I’m about to tell you—”

  I raised a hand. “I know. I know. Is classified. Top secret. For-your-eyes-only.” I added finger quotes for effect.

  He waited me out, though his frown deepened. “You know this is a two-way street.”

  “What? I don’t know squat.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Leah,” he murmured.

  “Excuse me?”

  “AJ. If you’d shut up for two seconds, I’d tell you what I know.”

  “Be. My. Guest,” I huffed.

  “Got that out of your system?”

  “Waiting.” I tapped my foot.

  “Have you always been this frustrating?”

  “You know what they say about absence,” I quipped.

  “Whatever,” he grumbled. “As I was saying, what I’m about to tell you stays between us.”

  “And your department.”

  He shook his head. “This info came straight from the bedhead’s mouth.”

  I blinked. Ramirez was the only person I knew who could get away with referencing my best friend’s choice of hairstyle in that manner without losing his teeth and a few other necessary body parts.

  He nodded. “Yup. Leah.”

  I collapsed onto the chair opposite him.

  “I thought that would shut you up. But I had no idea it would be so effective.”

  “Ramirez,” I growled.

  “I almost wish I didn’t have this information. And I don’t think I can withhold it for much longer.” He glanced at me before continuing. “I know what Leah was up to before she went missing.”

  “Please elaborate.” I enunciated each syllable.

  One-word answers would no longer suffice.

  “Just don’t kill the messenger,” he replied, holding his hands up. “You won’t be happy with what I’m about to tell you.”

  “If it helps us figure out what happened to her, then I’ll just have to suffer through it.”

  Ramirez nodded, grinding his jaw for a moment. “I knew about her plan—even tried talking her out of it—but you know how Leah is.”

  I nodded. “When was this?”

  He looked away and my stomach dropped. “Shortly before she moved out of your house.”

  “So she told you about that. I assume that she also told you she was heading to L.A. to work for the Stantons?”

  “I know that’s what she told you.”

  I squinted at him. “What do you mean?”

  Ramirez blew out a long breath. “That’s the story she told you. Her rationale for moving out was fabricated, too. And while she felt awful about it—part of the reason she confessed to me—I couldn’t change her mind.”

  “Story? Packing up, heading to L.A.—was a lie?” My voice ratcheted up to a level that made Nicoh howl from his perch in the corner.

  “She wanted to protect you—keep you safe.”

  “Keep me safe?” I realized I was starting to sound like a parrot and tried to keep my frustration at bay. It was time to unmask this charade. “Tell me about this plan of hers. And please, start from the beginning.”

  Ramirez nodded, though the crease between his brows intensified as he laid things out. “Leah called me out of the blue a few weeks ago and asked if she could run something by me. I thought she wanted to talk about Jonah, or perhaps even try to rekindle their relationship. But when we met, she said she may have made the biggest mistake of her life—one she knew she would forever regret. She then told me how she’d lied to you.”

  I looked away, feeling the color rising in my cheeks.

  “As I mentioned, she thought it was the only way to keep you safe. If we kept you out of the loop, you wouldn’t be in harm’s way.”

  My eyes returned to his. “But safe from what, Ramirez?”

  “A journalist friend of hers went missing while doing some investigative work on a piece she’d been writing. Leah, being Leah, decided that since no one was taking the girl’s disappearance seriously, or as seriously as she thought they should, she’d track the girl’s movements herself. In order to do so, she had to get off the grid.”

  “And?”

  “I never heard from her again. And now she’s missing, too.”

  Chapter Two

  I’d forced Ramirez into divulging what he knew but had failed to prepare myself for the ramifications.

  And now I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what had become of my best friend or what this “plan” of hers fully entailed.

  If it was similar to any of the others I had been privy to over the years, it wasn’t looking good.

  Still, I had to find my friend and bring her home. It was time to channel my inner-Powerpuff Girl and suck it up, Buttercup.

  “What do you mean by ‘off the grid’? And, who’s this ‘friend’?
”

  “The friend’s name was Shelby Harris.” I squinted. The name did sound vaguely familiar. Thankfully, Ramirez noted my confusion. “She was an intern when Leah worked at the paper. Leah liked the girl’s spirit, took her under her wing and showed her the ropes. She said Shelby had talent but was a bit of a challenge when it came to following the rules. Tended to get herself into all sorts of trouble—kind of like someone else I know.” He gave me a pointed stare, which I ignored.

  “Moving on.”

  “She didn’t make it long on her own after Leah left and tried her hand at freelance gigs, though she hoped—according to Leah—her big break would come in the form of one of her investigative pieces.”

  I felt a pang of regret mixed with shame. Leah had barely mentioned Shelby and yet she’d been instrumental in her mentoring. Instead, I’d been wrapped up in my own drama, oblivious to my best friend’s challenges and struggles—and attempts to use them to help someone else.

  I shook my head, proud of my best friend but frustrated by my oversight in acknowledging it sooner.

  Ramirez’s voice snapped me out of my reverie and back to the present and the matter at hand. “Leah said that Shelby’s latest story du jour was a scam she happened upon in the vacation home rental industry.”

  “Vacation rentals? As in homes or condos that people rent on a short-term basis to out-of-town baseball fans during spring training?”

  He nodded. “Shelby told Leah that she’d uncovered some strange things going on in some of the older neighborhoods near Old Town Scottsdale. Many of the homes had recently been sold, then flipped and repurchased by a property management company. Leah also said that she had alluded to some hinky connection—Leah’s words, not mine—between the people doing the flipping and those taking on the managing, but that wasn’t what caught Shelby’s attention.”