Jack had kept his distance from Harper and Red, but his mind was never far from them. He didn’t know much, but he did know Harper was in trouble. And as much as he’d tried to help, he’d probably only made everything worse.
The conversation from Wednesday night plagued him as he drove toward the lake. He’d planned to work on one of the rentals today, thinking the manual labor would do him good. He needed to get Harper out of his mind.
He’d kissed her. He shouldn’t have done that. But the kiss wasn’t what bothered him right now. She’d told him more than she’d planned to, thanks to Red opening up. She’d let her guard down and had been almost honest with him. And then she’d erected those walls again and ordered him out.
Would she suspect he’d dig into her background? If she knew, what would she do?
The answer to that question had him making a quick U-turn and heading toward Nutfield. Because he suddenly had the very strong suspicion he knew exactly what she’d do.
She’d run.
Jack would go straight to the house, except Harper was probably working. He’d check McNeal’s first, see if she was there. He had to talk to her, to… he didn’t know what. Keep her from leaving, promise to help her with whatever it was she was running from.
How had he gotten himself into this, anyway? Whatever this was?
He screeched to a stop outside McNeal’s and rushed inside. He scanned the restaurant, saw Bonnie on the far side. The tables were almost all occupied, people eating and drinking and laughing and chatting. Everything seemed normal.
Harper wasn’t there.
She could be in the back, though. Maybe.
Bonnie disappeared into the kitchen.
He spotted Samantha Kopp, who waved from a table against the far wall. Sam was one of the property owners he worked for, someone he’d known for years. He walked that direction, noticed her husband Garrison, and gave them both a quick nod.
“Want to join us?” Sam asked.
“No. I’m just…” He glanced toward the kitchen. Where was Harper?
“Too distracted to finish sentences,” Garrison suggested.
Jack glanced at the man.
Garrison wore a wry smile. “You’re looking for the pretty waitress?”
“Harper,” Sam said. “She went in the back a couple of minutes ago.” She slid over on the bench seat and patted it. “Join us until she comes back out.”
Well, that was a better option than standing there. He slid into the booth.
“What’s her story?” Garrison asked. “I’ve seen her before, and she’s always seemed shy, but today she jumped out of her skin when I walked up.”
“She said she didn’t feel well,” Sam said. “She was white as a sheet.” She focused on Jack. “Has she been sick?”
Before he could answer, Garrison said, “She didn’t seem sick. She seemed scared.”
“You think?” Sam tilted her head to the side. “It was right after those two uniformed police officers came in.”
Garrison leveled his gaze on Jack’s. “What do you know about her?”
“Nothing, really. She’s my tenant.”
Garrison’s eyes narrowed. Jack had always found the man to be kind and funny, but right now, he was every bit his former-FBI self. “You’re a terrible liar. How long have you known her?”
“About ten days.”
“Has she done something wrong?” Garrison asked.
Jack was afraid to look away and afraid not to. And more than a little irritated that he couldn’t answer that question with a definitive no.
When Jack didn’t answer, Garrison said, “What’s her name?”
“Harper,” Jack said.
“Last name?”
“I don’t—”
“Cloud.” Sam said the last name, then shrugged. “She just told me. It’s unusual, isn’t it? Where’s she from?”
Garrison seemed to be waiting for an answer to that question, too. When Jack said nothing, Garrison pulled out his cell phone and typed into it. “I love a unique name. So easy to look up.”
“Don’t do that,” Jack said. “She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Call me eternally curious,” Garrison said. “Her actions and your evasiveness suggest something different.”
“I’m not being evasive.”
“That’s what every evasive suspect says.”
“I don’t know anything.” Jack tried to keep his voice level, but worry laced his words.
Garrison said, “They all say that, too.”
“She’s a tenant.” Jack threw that out as nonchalantly as possible. “A pretty one, so yeah, maybe I came here to see her, but nothing else.”
Garrison didn’t look up from his phone. “I don’t even have to see your eyes to know you’re lying. Seriously, don’t ever try to run a con.”
He had no idea how to answer that. How had this conversation gotten out of control so fast? “I think I’m just going to catch up—”
“Hey, Jack.” Bonnie approached the table and set plates down in front of Garrison and Sam. The scents of corned beef and french fries filled his nostrils and made his stomach churn. “You here to eat or to stalk my waitress?” She smiled as she said it, but Jack couldn’t return the gesture.
Garrison hadn’t looked up from his phone at her approach.
Sam was watching her husband with a tilted head and narrowed eyes.
“Is she here?” Jack asked Bonnie.
“Took off a few minutes ago. She said she didn’t feel well. There’s something off about that girl. She’s been distracted for days.”
Garrison slid out of the booth, causing Bonnie to sidestep out of his way. He looked down at Jack. All business.
“Don’t go anywhere.” Garrison marched through the room and out the front door.
Bonnie watched him leave before turning back to them. “The whole town’s taking crazy pills today. You need something?”
Jack swallowed rising nausea. Something was really wrong. “No, thanks.”
She walked away, shaking her head.
Jack slid out of the booth and stood, but Sam stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “Garrison said not to leave.”
“Am I required to do as he says?”
She glanced toward the front door. “He must have a reason.”
“I need to go.”
He started toward the front door just as Garrison stepped inside, phone still pressed against his ear.
Jack felt like a teenager who’d been caught sneaking out the window. Which was ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
Garrison approached, pointed at the bench seat across from his wife, and lifted his eyebrows. There was something commanding about the man, and he was already suspicious. If Jack took off, Garrison would be more convinced something nefarious was going on.
Jack slid into the seat.
Garrison said, “Right. C-L-O-U-D.” A moment passed, and then, “For how long?” He waited, then said, “Sure, I’ll hold.” He glanced at his wife and pointed at the food. “Get that to go, would you?”
She flagged Bonnie down.
Garrison spoke into the phone. “I’m here.” He wandered toward the door and continued his conversation.
As Bonnie boxed the meals and Sam paid the bill, Jack pulled out his cell and dialed Harper. No answer. He texted her. Where are you? I need to talk to you. No answer. He set his phone on the table.
He didn’t know what was happening or what he was expected to do. He wanted to leave and find Harper, but he also wanted to know what Garrison had learned.
Was that so wrong, to want to know the woman he was falling for?
Harper would think so. Would that even matter? Because if he guessed right, Harper was preparing to leave town right now.
He decided to stay another five minutes and shot up a quick prayer. Don’t let her leave before I get there.
When Bonnie walked away, Sam asked, “What’s Harper like?”
Such a loaded question. Wednesday, he’d have had a thousand good things to say about her. Beautiful, kind, genuine, sweet. And a great caretaker. The way she tended Red, the way she loved that old man she wasn’t even related to—that told him so much. Harper had a heart made to love, made to care. Two days before, he’d have sworn she’d go out of her way to save a spider’s life. But that was then. Today, all the things he’d believed about her seemed wrong. Because she was an ex-con. A liar. A felon.
And even as he told himself that, he didn’t believe it.
“I thought I knew her. But apparently…”
When he didn’t finish, Sam said, “People change, you know.”
He thought of his sister. She’d been a mess all her life, and as far as he knew, she still was. Because some problems couldn’t be fixed, not by people. Some problems went soul-deep. With all his heart, Jack believed God could change his sister. He’d held on to faith that God was working on Angel, even though he’d seen no evidence of it.
But what about Harper? She was open to God. She believed, even if her faith was shallow. Right?
Or had she fooled him completely?
He had no idea, but the longer Garrison talked on the phone, the worse Jack felt about this whole thing. Had it been five minutes yet? “I should go.” But he didn’t move. Because more than he wanted to go, he wanted to know what Garrison had learned.
“Let’s just wait another minute.”
“What if it’s terrible? What if she’s running for her life, and your husband has just told the bad guys—”
“Garrison’s not talking to bad guys. He’s talking to cops. Probably friends at the FBI. Most cops are good people trying to protect the weak. You can trust them.”
Sure. He’d always believed that, but Harper didn’t believe it. She couldn’t, or she wouldn’t be in hiding.
Assuming she was.
Wow, Jack’s imagination was out of control.
Garrison started toward them, phone still at his ear. He was an imposing man when he wore that serious expression. He spoke into the phone. “Yeah, I’ll get back to you.”
That didn’t sound good.
Garrison ended the call and slid into the seat beside his wife. He folded his hands on the table and met Jack’s eyes. “She’s a person of interest in a double homicide.”
Jack’s heart landed on the tile floor. “She didn’t do it.”
Garrison’s smile was weak. “How can you be so sure?”
Jack looked at Sam, then back at Garrison. “Would you believe Sam capable of murder?”
“Sam’s not a convicted felon.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose while her jaw dropped.
Jack said, “Harper did her time.”
“You knew about that.” Garrison blew out a long breath and leaned back. He held Jack’s gaze, and Jack forced himself not to look away, though he was squirming under the man’s scrutiny. Because he had no idea what kind of person Harper was. Because though he’d spent time with her and kissed her and—God help him—fallen for her, this ex-cop knew more about her right now than Jack did.
“I don’t know you very well,” Garrison said, “but you seem like a sharp enough guy. You really think, after everything you learned and after what I just told you, that Harper is on the up and up?”
“Yes.” He made the word strong and sure. “If she did anything wrong—and I don’t think she did—then she did it in self-defense.”
“The murders weren’t self-defense, not according to the detective.”
“You don’t know her.”
“Neither do you,” Garrison said. Before Jack could argue, he added, “And ten days doesn’t count.”
“Look, Garrison, I don’t know why you think this is any of your business, but—”
“A person acts strangely around law enforcement, it makes a cop wonder. I had a feeling, and I checked it out.”
“You need a new hobby.”
“I tried knitting once, but it didn’t work. Fat fingers.” Garrison lifted his gigantic hands. “My lack of hobbies aside, your girlfriend—”
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my tenant.”
“—is wanted for murder.”
“Let’s keep our voices down.” Sam leaned forward and focused on Jack. “Garrison has good instincts. He had a feeling. Now, he knows, and what’s done is done.”
Yeah. What Garrison had done was alert every law enforcement agency on the eastern seaboard of Harper’s whereabouts. With a previous conviction, would she be treated fairly? “What evidence do they have?”
Garrison looked at his wife, and they had one of those silent conversations only married couples had. The kind that drove single people crazy. He wanted to demand they say what they were thinking, but before he could, Garrison spoke.
“No offense, but it’s not really your business,” he said. “We need to talk to Harper.”
Not his business? “It’s not your business. I’m her friend.”
Garrison snatched Jack’s cell off the table, stood, and pocketed it. “Where is she now?”
“Give me that back.”
“Look, I’m not a cop anymore, okay? But the law’s still important to me. Now, you can tell me where she is, or I’ll call Chief Thomas and alert him there’s a wanted woman in his town. He’s a good guy, but he’s by-the-book. I had a hunch, and now I’m in it. And we’re going to deal with it.” Jack glared at the man, but Garrison only smiled. “Forget I asked. I’m sure Bonnie has her address.”
“She lives next door to me.” Jack rattled off the address.
Sam and Jack stood.
Garrison placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I want you to stay here.” He looked at Jack. “You stay, too. I’ll keep you two in the loop.”
Sam ducked out from his hand. “I’m going with you.”
Garrison shook his head. “She could be dangerous.”
“I’m going,” she said. “If I’m there, maybe she’ll open up. You’ll just scare her to death.”
Garrison said, “Well, she’s a criminal, so—”
“I’m going,” Sam said.
“She’s not a criminal.” But neither Garrison nor Sam was listening to Jack.
Garrison studied his wife’s face, then turned toward the door. “Stubborn, pig-headed…” Garrison was still muttering as he marched away.
Sam patted Jack’s shoulder. “You should come. It’ll be easier for her if you’re there.”
This was all his fault, though. If he hadn’t gone to McNeal’s, Garrison wouldn’t have looked her up. “If he gets her thrown in prison…”
“Garrison will hear her out. Trust me, okay?”
He leaned away from her hand. He still didn’t know what was going on, and taking a cop with him to find out wasn’t the right course of action.
Harper would never forgive him.
Jack would have called to warn her if Garrison hadn’t taken his phone. Which was, of course, why Garrison had taken his phone. So instead of warning her, he bolted out the door and took off in his pickup before Sam had climbed into Garrison’s Camry.
Maybe Jack could give her a moment’s warning, anyway.
But Garrison caught up with him within minutes. Of course. Because Garrison was a former cop and Jack was just a fix-it guy who’d blown everything out of proportion. Who’d thought it was a good idea to run a background check on a woman he cared about. Then he’d somehow brought in a straight-arrow guy like Garrison Kopp to make everything ten times worse.
He was pretty sure he’d spend the rest of his life regretting the previous few minutes.
When he pulled up to the house, Harper was dragging Red’s suitcase to the car.
Part of Jack wished they’d wasted more time, given her a chance to get away. Jack would never have seen her again, but at least she might have remembered him with fondness.
She turned toward him. Her face held curiosity as he parked on the narrow street.
The look shifted to suspicion, then fear, as Garrison pulled in the driveway and parked a foot behind the little VW Jetta.
Jack jumped out of his truck and ran across the spotty grass toward her. “Harper, I’m so sorry.”
She glanced at him, said nothing, and focused on the others.
Garrison and Sam stepped out of the car and started toward her.
She looked behind her. Jack couldn’t blame her. Garrison was six-four, broad-shouldered, and carried himself like a cop. She had to be terrified.
Sam rushed around the car and approached Harper. “We met at the restaurant, remember?”
Harper just stared.
“I’m Samantha Kopp.” She stopped a foot from Harper.
Harper turned to Jack, who’d stopped about five feet from her. “What’s going on?”
“I’m so sorry. I tried to call earlier—”
“Harper Cloud?” Garrison stepped beside his wife. “I’m Garrison Kopp, a friend of Jack’s.”
“Friend’s a strong word,” Jack said, “all things considered.”
Garrison ignored him. “Can we go inside? I’d like to talk to you.”
Harper looked at Jack. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do this. I mean, not on purpose. I never meant—”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Garrison said.
She left the suitcase beside the car, swiveled, and marched up the steps.
Garrison and Sam followed. Jack came in and closed the door behind him. The living room was empty. He hadn’t realized before how Harper and Red had filled the place. Red’s newspaper was usually folded on the little table between the sofa and the recliner. There was almost always a glass of Gatorade or a cup of coffee there, too. In the afternoons, there’d be a small bowl of some snack. Cashews, peanuts, those gross little soy nuts. Harper’s cell phone often rested on the coffee table alongside a novel with a bookmark sticking out.
All that was gone. Jack continued into the kitchen, where Garrison and Sam pulled out chairs and sat at the table. Harper was leaning against the counter, arms folded, staring at the floor.
“Where’s Red?” Jack asked.
She didn’t look at him when she said, “I was going to pick him up on the way.”
“To where?”
She shrugged.
He stepped closer and reached for her shoulder, but she backed away. “Don’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
She didn’t acknowledge the words.
Garrison cleared his throat. “Just for the sake of full disclosure,” he said, “you should know I’m a former FBI agent. But I’m not a cop right now, and I’m not here in any official capacity.” He paused, but nobody spoke. “You acted strangely at the restaurant when I walked up beside you, and then Jack showed up, and he seemed unduly concerned about telling me anything about you. I got suspicious and looked you up, then made a few phone calls. I learned some things that are really troubling.”
Still, Harper said nothing.
“The fact that you’re packing up and leaving doesn’t look good.”
She glared at the man. “Am I under arrest?”
Garrison smiled. “I’ve never actually done one of those citizen’s arrests things. Feels very Barney Fife. Of course, he was a cop, wasn’t he?”
He watched Harper, and she stared back. Finally, she said, “I don’t know who that is.”
“What?” He eyed Sam, then Jack. “Kids these days, am I right?”
When nobody answered, Sam said, “I don’t think you’re putting her at ease.”
“This is some of my best stuff,” Garrison said.
Sam chuckled and focused on Harper. “Forgive my husband. He’s trying to be funny.”
Harper narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”
Garrison blew out a long breath. “Can you please sit down and tell us what’s going on?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He shrugged. “The problem is, I know just enough to cause you a lot of trouble. But your friend here”—he nodded toward Jack, who glared at him—“seems convinced you haven’t done anything wrong. So I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
Very slowly, Harper turned to face Jack. “I think you need to go.”
“I have no idea how this happened. I just went to McNeal’s to see if you were okay.”
“It’s not his fault you’re wanted,” Garrison said.
“Wanted?” Harper yanked out a chair and sat heavily.
Garrison’s amusement faded. “In connection with a murder.”