You shouldn’t have come here, girl.” The voice was familiar. Menacing.
She stared at Uncle Jerry as he crept up the stairwell. No, she wouldn’t even think of him as her uncle. She wouldn’t call him uncle. It was too hard. “Why are you doing this?”
“If you’re here, you know enough to know why.”
“You’re insane, that’s why.”
“The government always covers up the truth. Creates their own lies about our history so they can direct the future.”
“But none of that makes any sense now. Blowing up a building filled with people isn’t the way to make your point.”
“No one listens unless you make them listen. But it doesn’t matter. I’m dying, and I found that I can make my point while I go out on my own terms.”
“But I’m not dying. I have my full life ahead of me, if you don’t take it from me tonight.” And Heath. Harper wanted that chance with him. Even a few moments of gain were worth the risk of loss. How had she ever doubted that before? “Think of your sister, Leslie. She wouldn’t want you to kill her daughters too like you killed her husband.”
“So you know about your dad.” His frown deepened. “I didn’t know that was you with the camera, or I wouldn’t have tried to kill you. I would have tried to silence you another way.”
A lot of comfort that was, coming from a killer. He was too cold to help.
“Is that your idea of an apology? It’s too late. People are already dead. More people are going to die.”
“They’re all gone. I pulled the fire alarm and got them out. All except for you.”
Wha—her breath left her. “You?” Hope surged. Harper got to her feet and pulled on James. “You set that off? But why?”
“Your sister. Her speech . . . the book she wrote.” He gasped between each word. Planning all this, putting the bomb in place had probably taxed the last of his energy. That and the cancer eating him alive. “I sat on the catwalk and listened. People were mesmerized by her words.” He leaned against the wall. “I’m dying. I can’t make a difference after I’m gone. I’m the last one of us in our fight for truth and freedom from lies the government perpetuates so they can control us. But Emily needs to live to get the word out.” He dragged in a breath and coughed.
“The word out. What are you talking about? What lies?” Her heart twisted in a thousand knots at his complete paranoia.
“To explain it all, I wrote a letter to the New York Times. They should receive it tomorrow. Tell her to read that and she’ll understand why she needs to look deeper into history and find the truth. I know she’ll see it for herself. Then she can write about it and more people will hear.”
Emily didn’t see history the way Uncle Jerry did or deny that the Holocaust happened. Emily wasn’t an extremist either. But Harper wouldn’t waste her breath. He wouldn’t listen. No. Because he wasn’t done talking.
“I know she was meant to carry on the fight for truth in history. It’s in her DNA, after all. So I have to let her live. After listening to her speech, I now have peace in knowing that I made the right choices. That Emily will continue my cause, whether she knows it now or not.”
Waves of nausea rolled through Harper at his words. The man actually believed he was doing the right thing. She could tell by his labored breathing that he would die soon whether or not the bomb took him. She thought about Emily’s acceptance speech and how it had affected Uncle Jerry. He missed one thing.
“Emily talked about second chances, Uncle Jerry. You can have that second chance.”
“To do what? It’s too late.”
How did a person get to the place in life where they believed they didn’t deserve a second chance? Harper had lived in that place for far too long. She would forgive herself for her mistakes. For letting Daddy down.
But she couldn’t wait for Uncle Jerry to have his come-to-Jesus moment, if he ever did. She tried to heft James up onto her shoulder. He moaned. Was he waking up? Was there enough time left for them to get out?
“It’s odd,” Uncle Jerry continued. “There’s a kind of euphoria knowing that I’m going out with a bomb. I’ll leave behind a legacy.”
“A legacy of death and destruction.” Maybe she could take him out, and then what? The bomb was still counting down. “Help me. Please stop the bomb. I’m not ready to die. Are you?”
“I’m ready, yes. And on my own terms. But even if I wanted to, I can’t stop the bomb. No one can.”