Now it was time for Harper to get her act together.
Her hands shook as she gripped the cell phone and stared at Emily’s image. She needed to call her sister.
Tomorrow was Emily’s big night. Her book was being featured. She was giving a speech.
Harper hesitated. The news that their uncle was the worst kind of criminal would be devastating and could ruin the gala for Emily. Affect her ability to speak to the crowd.
But if Harper didn’t tell her, and Emily heard from someone else—such as a news station that had gotten the story early—that could be more devastating.
Releasing a sigh, she set the cell aside.
Lord, I don’t know what to do. Do I tell her or do I keep it to myself for now?
Even if she called Emily, she didn’t have the words. How did she tell her what had happened?
Harper sensed the moment someone entered the room. Though he crept forward as if trying to surprise her, his cologne let her know it was Heath approaching. His reflection appeared in the window when he stood behind her.
“Trying to sneak up on me?”
He came around the large sofa to sit next to her, his bright blue eyes turning dark with concern. His expression remained warm, gentle even, despite the lines etched in his forehead. “I was never good at sneaking up on you. Or surprising you. But no. I was checking on you and didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Have you heard something else?” She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
“Nothing related to the Firebomber. I don’t think the feds are going to share anything with us. It’s out of the hands of local law enforcement, in spite of Sheriff Taggart’s efforts to stay in the loop.”
She wasn’t sure she could take his intensity at the moment. “I’m sorry.” What else could she say?
Heath’s smile turned tenuous. “He’s still out there, Harper. The man who tried to kill you. I know it’s more than that now, but you’re in danger—you personally are a target—until this is over. I was again tasked with keeping you safe. Taggart suggested I take you away, if I thought it was a good idea. Well, I do think it’s a good idea. Taggart doesn’t need me.” Heath scooted closer and took her hand. “But you do.”
She didn’t want to need him. She’d tried, really tried, to let herself be free to explore a relationship with this man. But even those words she would have spoken to him about staying had been stolen from her with the blast. As he squeezed her hand, his touch nearly took her breath away. She felt the strength there, the calluses from his work at the ranch, and his complete devotion, the effort he took in caring for the task to which he’d committed himself—or in this case, the person. Harper.
She wanted to ignore the warm thrumming sensations he stirred in her. Because, right now, pain was all around her—the bombing and the house where she’d grown up, still full of death.
An empathetic person, she needed to feel the pain crashing down on her and process through it. She freed her hand from Heath’s and hugged herself.
“I’m not going to watch you do this to yourself. Harper”—he turned her to face him—“after what you’ve just been through, you should know that life’s a gift. It shouldn’t be wasted or spent on purgatory, or some sort of mental anguish you think is necessary. I won’t let you do this to yourself.” His eyes crinkled around the edges. He hung his head as if to work up his nerve, then lifted his face again and said, “I have a surprise for you, so maybe I can surprise you, after all.” A nervous chuckle.
From his pocket he pulled out a printout of two airline tickets.
Sitting forward, she stared at them. “What’s going on?” Harper glanced up at him, eyes locking with his. “I don’t understand.”
“Would you like to attend the Metcalfe Honors and Benefit Gala with me? You can be there with Emily when she is honored and gives her speech.”
Her words caught in her throat. Heath—this man—he’d been listening.
He winked, his eyes pleading with her to put this behind them. At least for the gala.
Only Heath could make her smile, albeit a tenuous smile, during this crisis in her life. She hadn’t thought of him as a romantic, but this might change her mind. His thoughtfulness could undo her.
Except, well, if only the timing wasn’t all wrong.
A wry grin twisted his lips. “I can see huge wind turbines spinning in your head. Look, I know this isn’t exactly the perfect time. But there’s never going to be a perfect time. You need this for a thousand reasons, and it would mean a lot to your sister too. So, let’s get away together. Let’s go somewhere safe.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
SATURDAY, 5:30 P.M.
DALLAS, TEXAS
Harper stared at the long mirror in the hotel room she shared with Emily.
She had hoped she’d be staring at a changed version of herself by the time she’d finished photographing the national parks. Well, there was at least one small change. She had a scar at her hairline. Now she wished she had opted to get bangs. Too late for tonight’s event. But the changes she had hoped to see went much deeper than her skin. Admittedly, it was clear she’d held on to a lot of false hopes.
For one, she had hoped to be well and free of the past. She’d tried, believing the therapist’s suggestion that focusing on beauty instead of death and murder would help her. But instead of healing from the past, more baggage than she’d known existed had followed, and it was as if she’d come full circle, gathering painful thorns as she walked through a harsh wilderness she’d never meant to travel. She had no control over what had happened, over what her uncle had done.
She never should have gone back.
Emily hummed in the bathroom, pulling Harper’s attention back to the moment. Permanent worry lines had taken over her brow and she worked to soften the look. Take the edge off.
Tonight was for Emily, and Harper wanted to focus on her sister, especially after she’d almost lost her to that maniac. Maybe tonight was for Harper too, if only a little.
And Heath?
He could have stayed in Wyoming close to his ranch and his friends. His family—Liam was there, and Heath should spend time with him, catching up. But he had surprised her with plane tickets for two to Dallas. A romantic overture? To some extent that confused her—was he here out of a sense of responsibility that Taggart had assigned him or that he’d assigned himself? Or was it something more? And if his being with her was about exploring a future together, was Harper truly ready to take that risk? Even if she was, Heath might run away when he saw how broken she remained inside.
Regardless, she didn’t dare to hope. Not yet. Not until this was over once and for all. Not until Uncle Jerry was behind bars. Shock rolled through her again. She supported herself against the vanity. Squeezed her eyes. She could make it through this night. She would make it through this.
God, please let them catch him before he hurts or kills anyone else.
Emily rushed out of the bathroom and headed to the closet for her shoes. “You have five minutes.”
On the outside, Harper was ready. On the inside, she was a work in progress who had taken a huge detour and gotten lost. She had done her best to smile and not let on that she carried new burdens. If anything, Emily suspected the pain in Harper’s eyes was due to the bomb in Grayback. That was part of it, sure, but maybe the least of it.
How and when should she share the news about their uncle with Emily?
Blinking back tears, she drew in a steadying breath and scrutinized the black dress Emily had let her borrow. Time to focus on the present.
Flashing a brilliant smile, Emily stepped up behind her.
“I know that’s not for me.” Harper could almost be swept up in Emily’s ability to put aside the gloom for an evening.
“Of course it’s for you. You look marvelous, darling.”
“Thanks.”
Maybe Emily had sensed Harper’s less-than-enthusiastic response because she immediately hugged Harper long and hard.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. The last few weeks have been so trying. But we’re here together. You couldn’t have surprised me more.” Emily released her, then added, “And maybe you don’t feel it, but on the inside, you’re amazing and beautiful. I’ve been so jealous of you for so long.”
“What? Why?”
“Because, Harper . . . you’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. I’ve been thinking a lot about this since I came home. What you’ve thought of as a weakness, a defect, is actually a strength. You are a survivor, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m sorry for what I said to you before, and that I blamed you for not looking that night when Dad was shot. If you had, you could have been killed too. Instead, you’re alive and show me every day, through your determination, how I can be strong too. I know Mom and Dad would be so proud of you. I can only write about detectives and crime scene photographers, but you? You put yourself in the middle for others. Please don’t ever change.”
Harper wanted more than anything to absorb Emily’s words as truth. She didn’t want to see herself as broken, as someone who would fail others when it counted most. And maybe she didn’t have to.
“When we were still living in Jackson Hole,” she said, “we’d see Grand Teton all the time, especially if we had to drive into town. That mountain is so big, and as a kid anyway, it made me think of God. And I used to think if I was that mountain, nothing could move me or scare me. Nothing could hurt me. Now I think I’m finally getting it. God is like that mountain for us and we can hold on to him.”
“And no matter what happens in this life, nothing can take us away from him.” Emily looked at the mirror. “Oh, look. You’ve made me cry and now I have to go fix my makeup.”
Emily dabbed at her eyes, then glanced at Harper in the mirror and smiled. “That’s much better. I do believe that little black dress has found a home. You are now the rightful owner.”
Laughter bubbled up inside. Harper released it. For Emily, but for herself too. “Seriously? I look homely in this compared to you and your cobalt blue sparkles.”
“When do I get to dress like this? Since I get to walk up on that stage to be honored in this way and give a speech, I want to dazzle them with more than words.” She leaned in close, her face next to Harper’s, and lifted her cell phone. “Selfie time.” Emily snapped the picture.
Harper hadn’t been ready. “Give me some warning next time.”
“Okay, I’m going to warn you about Heath. He’s downstairs and he looks gorgeous.” The mischief in Emily’s eyes sparkled as much as her dress.
“How do you know?”
“James just texted me a selfie they took in the lobby.”
Harper had met James—Emily’s previous editor—when she’d first arrived in Dallas.
“Let me see it!”
Emily held back her cell. “That would spoil the surprise. Heath needs to see your reaction.”
Okay, now she was nervous. She found a towel and wiped her hands. Emily’s teasing grin said she saw more than Harper was ready to reveal.
“What’s that look for?” she asked. “It’s not like a date or anything.”
Emily nodded, but her expression shouted loud and clear that she didn’t believe it.
“What about your date?”
“What about him? I’m fine admitting that it’s a date. Well, sort of. James was having some issues finding a babysitter for his four-year-old and had to bring him on this trip. His son will be attending the gala with us. He’s a handful. But you know what? That’s fine. Dawson’s adorable. I think I might be in love.”
“With James or Dawson?”
Her eyes shining, Emily pursed her lips. “We need to get going.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
SATURDAY, 6:30 P.M.
TRINITY HISTORY THEATER AND MUSEUM
DALLAS, TEXAS
Harper and Heath stood in the lavish foyer of Trinity History Theater and Museum with hundreds of others. Emily and James held hands. Dawson stood close and held his father’s other hand as they slowly made their way inside the theater. The place reminded Harper of a cathedral, with its vaulted, arched ceilings. Intricate plaster and elaborate murals depicted images from history.
Harper took Heath’s proffered elbow, a flurry of emotions leading her heart in too many directions. For too long she’d been camping, taking pictures, and then hunted by a killer, and now in this elegant setting, she felt like she was in an alternate universe.
Heath grinned down at her as though he was perfectly comfortable in his black suit. His bright blue eyes had lost the shadows. He was clean-shaven, and he’d trimmed his hair. She tried not to think about the kiss they’d shared, but memories and sensations hit her like a straight-line wind. Her legs shaky, she was glad to hold on to his arm. As good as he looked, she wouldn’t tell him that she preferred his scruffy cowboy look. Still, Heath looked good no matter what he was wearing, and she breathed in his subtle musky cologne. He was a good man, through and through.
“Have I told you lately how beautiful you look?” With the open admiration in his eyes, she had to wonder if Heath viewed this as a date.
“Not in the last fifteen minutes, but I’m good with that.” Maybe she should view it as a date too. “Heath, is this? Are we on a—”
“In all my life, I never dreamed I’d be at a fancy gala with the most beautiful woman in the world on my arm.”
He’d cut her off before she finished her question. On purpose? She shouldn’t have asked. Of course this wasn’t a date. Heath was here because Taggart had instructed him to take her far away from Grayback and protect her. But—the most beautiful woman in the world?
He stepped around in front of her. “I understand better than you know how much caring about someone costs. I’m willing to take that risk with you, Harper. I care deeply about you.” The emotion in his searching blue eyes confirmed his words. “But there’s time for exploring that when this is over. Not before. I need to stay focused. Are you with me?”
She nodded. “I think so.”
She longed for her uncle to be taken down, then she and Heath would have a chance to explore a future together.
Heath and Harper followed Emily and James as he carried Dawson, who was trying to escape, to a row reserved for honorees and their guests. Emily was right about Dawson. He was a cutie and could have the potential to be a heartbreaker one day. She hoped for Emily’s sake that his dad wouldn’t break Emily’s. Her sister was clearly smitten. Harper couldn’t have been happier for her.
After a company of actors and artistic dancers performed, the emcee officially opened the event honoring several artists for showcasing the museum and also bringing attention to the Holocaust. The next hour was filled with short documentaries about both the museum and the Holocaust, and in between, the honored guests spoke.
Finally, Emily’s moment to address those gathered at the event had arrived.
The presenter read Emily’s bio. “We’d like to honor Emily Reynolds, aka L. E. Harper, for her latest work, Fire and Ash.”
“Congratulations, Em,” Harper said. “You deserve this.”
As the crowd applauded, Emily rose from her seat. She looked graceful and polished as she sparkled blue all the way up to the stage, an iPad containing her speech in hand.
The audience couldn’t have known what Emily had endured in recent days, nor would she have wanted them to.
“I couldn’t be more proud of her,” Harper said. Heath nodded, an appreciative grin on his face, but he seemed on edge.
Anxiety pinged through her.
Please . . . Harper needed to stay in this world for a few minutes more.
On stage, Emily tapped the iPad screen and began to read her acceptance speech. “It’s such an honor to be here in the midst of those who have received lifetime achievement awards”—she smiled and nodded at another artist honored there tonight—“and I’m truly humbled that you chose Fire and Ash—a mystery about a woman who sets out to solve a murder related
to the bombing that happened here twenty-three years ago this week. Through her research, she learns of her family’s experience in the Holocaust. I love to uncover the truth about history, even as my protagonists solve murders wrapped up in lies. I’m often asked how I come up with story ideas.” Emily stared down at her iPad, pausing as if to gather her composure.
Then she lifted her head with a tenuous smile. “But this story is more personal to me.”
Harper stiffened and sat taller. Light-headedness wrapped around her.
“You see, twenty-three years ago this week, my mother lost a dear friend when this museum was destroyed, as you already know, by someone the authorities believed was a Holocaust denier and part of an anti-government domestic terrorist group.” Emily gestured at the theater. “But it’s been rebuilt into something much bigger, much grander. They did a great job, don’t you think?” Like a pro, Emily waited as if she expected applause, and she received it as the audience took in the surroundings.
“Mom died three years ago, and as I was going through her things, I came across a shoebox with articles about the bombing. I had all but forgotten about it. After reading the articles, I knew I had to write this story as a memorial to those who died here and the millions who died in the Holocaust. I’m not going to give the story away, in case you haven’t read it, but in real life, things don’t always end so well. Still, there’s always hope. There can still be redemption. Second chances. This building got a second chance . . .” Emily continued, but Harper couldn’t listen.
Emily’s words were like thick, hardening cement. Harper barely pulled her gaze away to look at Heath as he listened intently to Emily.
How could I have missed that?
Emily had written a mystery based on the articles Mom had kept about the bomb. Harper hadn’t read the book, of course, because she’d been trying to escape death and crime. This was the last place the Firebomber had bombed.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
SATURDAY 8:45 P.M.
TRINITY HISTORY THEATER AND MUSEUM
Always Look Twice Page 27
