An unfamiliar emotion made Harper’s heart go cold.
She was afraid.
Afraid of losing something she almost hadn’t had at all. She couldn’t seem to find the words she needed to argue with him.
‘Come on, Luke. I don’t …’
There was a catch in her voice. He must have heard it, too – his head jerked up.
Across the darkness she could see the confusion in his eyes.
‘I like you, Harper,’ he said. ‘I always have. But all this time we’ve never crossed the line. Why are we pushing our luck like this?’
‘Because …’
Her voice trailed off.
So many things she wanted to say but couldn’t, in case they were the wrong things.
When she didn’t continue, Luke nodded, as if she’d confirmed his fears.
All of this was so horribly what Harper had feared would happen. That he didn’t feel the same way. That it was all an awful mistake. That he didn’t care enough. That she didn’t deserve to be happy.
That she would be alone again.
But wouldn’t that be for the best? Wasn’t he right? They were pushing their luck.
The thing that had first drawn her to him was how much of her own ambition she could see in him. Being a cop was all he’d ever wanted. And he was risking that now, for her.
‘We should stop,’ she said.
Her voice was barely above a whisper but the night was still. He heard.
She felt him watching her, but she wouldn’t look up.
‘It’s not safe,’ she continued. ‘You’re right. As long as you’re doing your job, and I’m doing mine. It’s a mistake.’
He turned away, his broad shoulders hunching.
‘If that’s what you think … I guess you’re right.’
She felt raw. The breeze she’d welcomed earlier was sandpaper against her skin. She wanted to go home.
Her only comfort was that, when she finally dared to glance at him, Luke looked as stunned as she felt.
Maybe he’d expected her to talk him out of it. Perhaps he’d thought she’d fight harder. But Harper couldn’t ask him to risk his job for her more than once in a single night.
Could she?
When he spoke again, his tone was flat.
‘I’ll see what I can find out about Blazer. I think you’re wrong. But I’ll look into it as much as I can.’
He didn’t meet her eyes.
‘Great,’ Harper said without enthusiasm.
‘I’ll be in touch.’
Turning away sharply, Luke headed for his car.
Harper didn’t move as he pulled away, his engine a roar in the night, driving too fast on the bumpy road.
And just like that, as quickly and unexpectedly as it began, it was over.
Chapter Twenty-six
When she left The Watch, Harper drove straight home. Her hands were numb on the wheel.
The apartment was quieter and darker than she could ever remember it being before. It felt empty and stale – like no one really lived there. As she walked down the hallway, her footsteps echoed.
Zuzu meowed insistently, winding between her feet as she made her way to the kitchen.
In silence, she fed her. For a while, she leaned against the counter, watching the cat eat without really seeing her.
She knew she shouldn’t feel this terrible. They’d only slept together once. It shouldn’t matter this much.
It mattered.
Having him in her life for that brief time had changed everything.
Sometimes you don’t know you’re living in darkness until the first person switches on the light. When that light goes out again, the night is so much darker.
That was where she’d gone wrong, she told herself. Letting the light come on in the first place. Why had she ever let him turn on the light?
Forcing herself to move, she opened a cupboard, digging through it until she found an ancient bottle of Jameson’s whiskey at the back. Grabbing it, she poured herself a large shot and drank it in one.
It set her throat on fire and that was fine. She wanted it to hurt.
Crossing the kitchen, she switched on her scanner to fill the silence but the familiar crackle of official voices was a wave of meaningless noise.
She turned it off again with an irritated flick of her wrist.
Picking up a book she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on, she headed towards the couch. She was almost there when someone knocked on her door.
She froze.
It was nearly two in the morning. No one ever came by this late – even Bonnie would call first.
The knock came again – insistent, but not loud.
Moving cautiously, she set the book down and made her way to the front door. She pressed her cheek against the cool wood to look through the peephole.
Luke stood on her doorstep.
Harper’s heart began to race.
Despite herself – despite all she knew about loss and the darkness she could already see coming – she rushed to let him in, her fingers fumbling with the safety bolts, hands slipping clumsily as she yanked the door open.
‘What …?’ she began.
He didn’t wait for her to finish the question.
‘It’s like this, Harper. I can’t walk away from this. I thought I could, but I can’t.’
His straight hair was wild, like he’d been raking his fingers through it, and there were spots of color high on his cheeks.
‘I drove all the way home, and then I turned the car around and came back. Because I don’t want to lose you.’
He sounded as breathless as she felt. She could see her own wild excitement in his eyes.
‘I don’t care if we’re playing with fire,’ he said. ‘Do you?’
‘No,’ she said fiercely. ‘I don’t care.’
‘I’ve given up so much for this goddamn job, I’m not giving you up, too.’ He was talking fast. ‘They can’t have everything.’
He took a step inside, so close she could feel the heat of his skin. Her hands were reaching for him before she knew what she was doing.
‘To hell with them,’ he said.
Sweeping her into his arms, he stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him. They stumbled backwards down the hallway, his mouth on hers, kissing her with a hunger that made her bones soften.
Nothing else mattered in this moment. All she cared about were his lips. His hands. The way he made her feel.
She parted her lips, running her tongue across his teeth, tasting the salt of him.
Grasping the hem of her top he pulled it over her head in one smooth move. His hands were warm and insistent as they slid up her shoulders to tug at her bra straps.
At the last second, her rational brain kicked in.
‘Wait.’ She pushed her hands against his chest, trying to catch her breath. ‘Where did you park?’
‘Five blocks away. Side street.’ As he talked, his lips teased her throat, her jaw. His breath was maddening. ‘I do this for a living, remember?’
She should have known he’d think of everything.
Harper tilted her head to catch his mouth with her own. And let her worries go.
This was what mattered. Only this.
In the morning, Harper woke up alone. The sheets next to her were cool and empty.
Reaching out one hand she smoothed the blanket, feeling suddenly hollow.
She’d been certain that, this time, he’d be here in the morning.
Slowly, she sat up, pushing her hair back out of her face.
Only then did she hear the unmistakable sound of the shower.
Pressing her chin to her knees, she let out a long breath.
He was still here.
Much had been decided during the night. They would be careful. They wouldn’t be seen together in public. But they would not give each other up.
At four in the morning, her head tucked beneath Luke’s chin, Harper told him she was sorry.
&n
bsp; ‘I shouldn’t have asked you to help,’ she’d said, too sleepy to stop herself. ‘It wasn’t fair.’
She’d felt his lips brush the top of her head.
‘You should be able to trust me.’ His breath stirred her hair. ‘I should be able to trust you.’
It had been an odd way of phrasing it. It struck her that he hadn’t said that he did trust her. Only that he should. Still, she’d been too tired to dwell on it. To let doubt win. It was the last thing she remembered before falling asleep.
She wondered if he’d slept. Several times during the night, she’d half-woken and been hazily aware that he was awake. But perhaps she’d dreamed that. After all, she’d slept so hard, she’d never heard him get up.
Wrapping the sheet across her chest, she looked around her bedroom. Everything was as it always was. The fireplace with its Victorian mantelpiece. The old dresser she’d found at a flea market and painted white. The photo of her mother with an eleven-year-old Harper and Bonnie, skinny arms around each other, smiling at the camera – the only family photo she had in the apartment.
She knew Luke was trained to make quick assessments of people. Having seen where she lived in the light now, what would he think of her?
‘You’re up.’ Luke walked into the room, a towel loose around his waist, hair damp and ruffled.
She hadn’t noticed the shower stopping.
She watched him lazily as he moved. His muscles were well defined, his skin tawny but not tanned. He was perfect.
‘So are you.’ She stretched, faking a yawn. ‘How long have you been up?’
‘A while.’ His eyes searched her face. ‘I didn’t wake you, did I?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s late. I just woke up.’
He didn’t seem tense or nervous, in fact, he looked perfectly comfortable. Like he’d always been in her bedroom wearing only a towel.
The intimacy of the moment pushed back her doubts.
They could do this.
Still, they both moved carefully through the morning.
When she emerged from the shower a while later, she found him, dressed in the jeans and black T-shirt he’d worn the night before, standing in front of the fireplace looking up at Bonnie’s painting of her.
A floorboard creaked under her foot, and he pivoted to peruse the bookshelves next to it. The movement was smooth, natural.
Turning toward the bedroom, Harper pretended not to notice.
It felt like they were cautiously discovering each other. Opening doors they’d been forbidden to unlock for years, and peeking inside.
They just had to be careful what doors they opened. Each of them had things they wanted to keep hidden.
Later, sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, they talked again about the Whitney case. Luke’s long legs covered the distance between them; his bare feet rested lightly on top of hers.
‘So, they’re sure it’s not the ex-husband?’
‘According to Smith, he has a solid alibi.’ Harper sipped her coffee. ‘Clocked in at work before she was murdered. Was there all day. By the time he clocked out, she was dead.’
‘You should check on him anyway,’ Luke told her. ‘Just in case.’
‘I will.’
‘What about the other men in her life?’ He nudged her foot gently. ‘You said she had a colorful history?’
Harper nodded. ‘DJ said she made a lot of enemies. I have a list of her most recent partners.’
‘You gonna check them out?’ he asked.
‘Of course.’
It came out sharper than she intended. He gave her a steady look.
‘Come on, Harper.’
She didn’t back down. ‘I know what you’re doing, Luke.’
‘If that’s the case, then you know you can’t fixate on one suspect at the cost of all the others,’ he reminded her. ‘You have to look at every option.’
‘That doesn’t mean I’m not looking at Blazer, too,’ she said stubbornly.
‘Fine.’ His voice was measured. ‘I was getting to that. You’re going to need proof Whitney really dated Blazer. You’ll need evidence – photos or video. Something tangible. We have to prove it wasn’t a coincidence that they were seen together. If you don’t have that, no one will consider him a real suspect. So, that’s your step one.’
It was good advice. Some of the tension left the air between them.
‘I’ll talk to Whitney’s co-workers,’ she said. ‘See if I can reach her friends.’
‘I’d talk to that receptionist you mentioned,’ he said. ‘The one that guy you work with spoke to. You might notice something he didn’t. You’re better at this than he is.’
Harper tilted her head. ‘How can you be so sure I’m better?’
He smiled.
‘Because you’re the best, McClain.’
In the soft light, he looked younger. With his hair mussed and his shirt untucked, he seemed almost boyish. His eyes were bluer than she’d thought. An unusual deep lapis.
Catching her gaze, he lifted one eyebrow. ‘What’re you looking at?’
‘You,’ she said. ‘I don’t get to see you in daylight very often. You have pretty eyes.’
If she thought she could embarrass him, she was wrong.
Rising to the challenge, he leaned forward, eyes skimming her face, tracing the damp strands of hair lying against her shoulders.
‘Actually, now that you mention it, your hair looks redder than I thought. And your eyes are almost pure green …’
‘All right,’ she said, squirming. ‘That’s enough.’
His smile broadening, he took a slow sip of coffee.
‘I like the way you look, Harper. Day and night.’
Warmth rushed through her.
In that moment, it seemed to her they were falling into something real without ever meaning to. But then, falling accidentally is always easier than falling on purpose. You don’t see the ground coming.
Glancing at his watch, Luke sighed.
‘I’ve got to be in court in an hour. You better ask me all your questions fast. I know you want to know more about Blazer.’
Harper hated for the moment to end. But he was right. There was work to do.
She straightened in her seat. Her feet slid out from under his.
‘What do you know about his personal life?’ she asked. ‘Is he married?’
Luke toyed with the spoon on the table.
‘He’s a confirmed bachelor,’ he said after a brief pause. ‘Lives in one of those modern apartments in the suburbs, with a swimming pool he never uses and a guard at the gate.’
‘No kids?’
He shook his head.
‘Does he date?’
‘I wouldn’t call it “dating”,’ he said dryly. ‘As far as I can tell, he prefers a series of one-night stands with willing women who love a man with a badge.’
Harper made a face.
‘Look, I never said Larry Blazer wasn’t a bastard,’ Luke said. ‘But that doesn’t make him a killer.’
Harper studied him curiously.
‘You really don’t think he did it, do you?’
‘No, I don’t.’ The response came without hesitation.
‘Why not?’
‘He doesn’t fit the profile. He’s too controlled.’ He said it with so little hesitation, Harper knew he’d thought it through. ‘Blazer needs rules and regulations – he thrives on them. Uses them to his own ends. Killers are the opposite. They want to break the rules society sets out. Manipulate them. Damage them.’ He met her eyes. ‘Blazer’s a tyrant, not a killer.’
‘Anyone can kill if pushed hard enough, though. You’re a cop – you should know that better than anyone,’ she argued.
‘I do know that,’ he said, his voice sharpening. ‘And I’m telling you I don’t think you have enough on Blazer.’
Harper bit back an angry reply and took a long, calming sip of coffee. Every time they talked about Blazer they fought. They had to figure out a w
ay not to do that.
As if he knew what she was thinking, Luke reached across the table for her hand.
‘Harper, I don’t want to fight with you. Not after last night,’ he said, his tone softening. ‘But … Do me a favor. Look into everyone she knew. Your killer’s there somewhere. And you’re going to find him.
‘I just don’t think it’s Blazer.’
Chapter Twenty-seven
When Harper walked into the newsroom that afternoon, DJ was putting the finishing touches to an article about a new gym being built at a local high school.
‘Wow,’ she said, dropping her bag on her desk. ‘That looks exciting.’
He spun his chair, stopping on a dime facing her.
‘It’s the bomb,’ he announced, deadpan. ‘Actually, I was offered a story about a drug-fueled supermodel orgy, but I said, No. I want to write about the gym. Please tell me all about your plans for basketball games and pep rallies.’
‘Wise move,’ Harper said. ‘This town is crying out for pep rallies.’
She toyed with a pen, flipping it between her fingers.
Her talk with Luke had unsettled her. After he’d gone that morning, she’d spent the rest of the day going over her notes. She knew he was right, that she had to look at other possible suspects more seriously. She couldn’t allow herself to fixate on Blazer.
This meant she needed to find out more about Whitney and the men she dated.
She had a pretty good idea where to start.
‘Look. I know you’re having the time of your life with that piece,’ she said. ‘But I’ve got a question only you can answer.’
‘At last,’ he said, brightening. ‘My crime-solving skills are recognized.’
‘If I wanted to talk to people at the college who knew Whitney,’ she said, ‘where would I go?’
‘Development Department,’ he said. ‘That’s where she worked.’
‘Who would I talk to there?’ Harper asked, like it was no big deal. ‘That receptionist you mentioned. What was her name?’
DJ glanced over his shoulder at his computer, then turned back to her.
‘You know what? Her office is open for another hour.’ He tilted his head at his monitor. ‘I’m through writing my Pulitzer submission. We could go to the campus, see what we can find.’
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