Chapter 26
“Don’t joke about that,” Noah said sharply. His hands dropped away and he scowled down at her when she spun around in the chair. “We’ll figure this out.”
“How?” Harper stood and frustration rolled over her. She was tired of banging her head on the wall between her and the clues she needed to decipher the puzzle. “You saw what I saw. There was no one else. We know that and the police know that. Unless the killer repelled down the side of the building or from a helicopter, all the police have is me.”
He took her arms and bent toward her face. “What did I say I’d do if you continue with the defeatist attitude?”
She hadn’t forgotten. Neither did she feel defeated despite the setback. She had her posse on her side and that meant everything. But that didn’t keep her from grousing about her fate. It stunk to be falsely accused of a crime. It was worse to know someone was out there smirking because he or she was getting away with murder.
Besides, venting was cathartic.
“You said you’ll drop me in a swamp to be eaten by rabid alligators?” she offered helpfully. He wasn’t laughing.
“Not exactly.”
She tried again. “That you’ll bury me up to my neck in a fire ant nest and pour honey over my head?”
Summer snickered. “Michigan doesn’t have fire ants. Or alligators.”
“You’re getting off track here,” he scolded them both. Taryn wisely said nothing. “From what I understand, Summer is the queen of all things cyber. I know she’ll figure out how the killer got in the room.”
The cyber geek blushed.
“Aww, thanks.” Summer’s slight Texas drawl charmed Noah. He grinned. She also sent him a sweet smile and winked at Harper. “I like him.”
Harper liked him, too. Too much.
“Besides,” he continued, undeterred by the interruption. “We’re not about to let someone frame you. I know you’re innocent.”
Harper sighed. “And I do appreciate your support. However, I’m sure Summer has a head full of statistics about the percentage of innocent people rotting in prison because of the misinterpretation of evidence.”
Noah mimicked her scrunch up face. “Have you always been a pain-in-the-ass, or is this a recent development?”
“Recent,” Taryn and Summer echoed.
“Recent,” Harper agreed. “It started about three years ago when I came home early from a game after it was called for an ice storm. I found my musician boyfriend, Eddie, having his flute tuned up by the pair of hookers that peddled their wares on the street corner down from our apartment.” She paused and sucked in a breath. “I dented his head with a flying guitar case I’d tried to pitch out the open window, and moved out. That’s the last time I put up with garbage from anyone.”
Taryn and Summer nodded. They knew all her secrets.
Noah stared. “Wow. That’s brutal—the hookers, not the case. He deserved worse.”
Lacking confidence in general back then, and having been crushed by Noah, she hadn’t made the best choices in her love life. She hadn’t been abused; she’d just overlooked flaws that were deal breakers.
Eddie had just been the last of a line of mistakes.
Ironic that Noah had headed that line and come back into her life by her initiation. You’d think she’d have learned something in all these years and steered clear of him, despite being desperate. And broke.
Those days of romance disasters were over. The next time she gave her heart out, the guy would be worthy.
“Yes, well, it wasn’t my finest moment, and an accident. I’d expected Eddie to duck.” He’d tripped over his pants around his ankles and only sustained a small bruise on his forehead while trying to save his guitar. He failed. “That’s all in the past. I’ve smartened up and moved forward.”
Admiration showed in Noah’s eyes. “Good. I like that you’re tough. So let’s get back to the case. Time is wasting.”
It was an offhanded compliment but she took it to heart. They’d both changed a lot over the years. Perhaps she should give him some credit, too.
Just don’t fall in love, she told herself.
* * * *
Noah and Harper left Summer to solve the mystery of the missing killer on video and returned to the car, aka, their mobile office. His life had taken one hell of a down turn since being suspended. The only bright light stood beside him.
“I’m starting to like this old piece of crap,” she said and ran her hand over the hood like a car show spokesmodel. “Maybe I’ll buy him when we’re finished.”
Noah glanced at the dog chewed duct tape and lick prints on the glass. He said in mock horror, “Don’t even joke about that.”
She was kidding him. Anyone who owned a vintage Mustang would never drive a beat up old wreck from the nineteen eighties. He was surprised it was still road worthy after over thirty years of taking a beating.
Noah retrieved his laptop he’d brought after uploading all their case notes last night and opened her file.
He liked to take written notes and having a hard copy for backup. He added the information about the security video, then quickly scanned what they had so far.
The clues hadn’t gotten any more cohesive since the last time he looked. All he could do was keep adding clues. Eventually, they’d find something that would click and Harper would be free.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked, slowly.
He didn’t look up as he rearranged a few things. “Shoot.”
“Why did you leave the FBI?”
Taken off guard, his hands froze on the keys and his head snapped up. “Where did that come from?”
“I’ve been wondering about it since my cousin told me you’d left the bureau,” she admitted. “I heard you were asked to resign.”
Damn. She was nosy. “Let it go, Harper.”
Never one to stay out of his business, she rushed ahead. “I can’t. What if you’re called to testify at my trial and they take your character into consideration. Your history could make or break my case.”
Shit, she’d only been an unofficial investigator for a few days and had learned about law and gathering clues like a pro. She’d probably spent half her nights Googling that stuff and the other half trying to flush out his skeletons.
He ran his hands through his hair. There was no way to get out of this. The best he could do was hand her the sanitized version and get her off his back.
“I need you to keep this to yourself,” he insisted. “I mean it, Harper. You can’t tell anyone.”
She met his eyes. “I promise.”
Eighteen-year-old Harper had kept his secrets. For some reason he knew he’d be able to trust her now.
“Despite what the gossip chain says,” he began. “I’m not officially fired. I’ve been suspended until the conclusion of the investigation into my activities.”
“What activities would those be?”
Feeling raw and a bit claustrophobic, he put the laptop on the back seat. Spreading open his life with his knees practically up to his ears wasn’t happening.
“I’m not having this conversion in this damn car.” He pushed open the door and got out. Harper joined him as he paced.
“I worked an undercover corruption case for two years to take down a billionaire who was into all kinds of bad things, stuff that would give you nightmares. I won’t get into all the details, but let’s just say he had powerful friends and got away with everything short of murder.”
“That’s not right.”
There was so much more he wouldn’t burden her with. “When we finally had enough evidence, and we had a warrant, we went to his office to arrest him. During the takedown, he was shot.”
“Did he die?”
“He did not.” Noah pounded his fists on top of the car. “From his hospital bed, the bastard told my bosses that I’d shot him while he was on his knees.”
She took a few seconds to process the information. “It should be easy enough to prove your innocence. They can test your gun for recent firing.”
“If only things played out as easily as they do on TV.” He knew she liked to watch ID and considered herself an armchair detective. “He was shot with my gun. Not my service weapon but the one I kept in a lockbox at home.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yep, it was a setup.” Anger heated his gut. “Somehow the bastard must have suspected I was a Fed and saw a way to help his case. Someone close to him broke into my house and stole my gun, lockbox and all. Because I was with the FBI, all the evidence I uncovered during those two years is now suspect because I’m crooked. The gun had no prints on it but mine. Whoever shot him was on his orders.”
“Oh, Noah.” She didn’t move from leaning against the car but he felt her support. “Isn’t there something you can do?”
“There’s an ongoing investigation. Thankfully, my bosses and friends know it’s a shit case. Still, they need to clear me and that isn’t easy.” He closed the gap between them, needing to touch her. It felt good to have a confidant. Even his brother and mother didn’t know the details of the setup.
He wanted to kiss her. “We’ll see how it plays out.”
Filled with sympathy, she reached to cup his face. “I guess we’re sort of in the same boat. We’re both innocent but can’t clear the lies against us.”
Huh. He hadn’t thought about their situations that way. He’d pushed his own case out of his mind and let the Feds get him out of the mess he’d been buried in. To think about Masterson only made him angry.
Breaking her rule about personal contact, he slipped his arms around her. She didn’t offer any resistance. “When did you become so smart, Ms. Evans?”
Her arms drifted around his neck. “I’ve always been smart, Mr. Slade, even in high school,” she assured him. “You just didn’t notice. You were too busy thinking about me in my cheerleader uniform and not my A in calculus.”
Chuckling, he nodded. “You do have excellent legs.” He leaned to bury his face in the crook of her neck. She smelled like vanilla and fruit.
A small sigh escaped her. She was all soft and sweet. “I was just thinking about something.”
He nipped her skin. He was thinking about her, too, and his thoughts had nothing to do with killers and clues. “What’s that?”
“I know a way to make us both feel better.”
He knew a lot of ways she could help him de-stress. None of them involved wearing clothes. And since sex was out of the question, he kissed the small mole under her left ear and let that be enough. “Tell me.”
“I think I’ll let you grab my butt,” she said in a wicked whisper. “Just this once.”