Duty Bound (7 page)

There wasn’t enough time to eat my lunch and go down to Harper’s office and talk to anyone. I really wanted something to eat, but I wanted answers more. “Damn it,” I muttered, jogging across the street to my truck.

I was parked outside the newspaper’s offices in less than five minutes. The perk of the small town. I looked around and didn’t see Harper’s car. Maybe she had finally decided to listen to reason and follow my advice. Relaxing slightly, I climbed out of the truck and strode directly into the building.

“Can I help you?” a cute redhead asked. She was sitting at a desk near the front door, so I assumed she was the receptionist.

“Yes, actually. I’m looking for Jack.” For the life of me I couldn’t remember his last name, but maybe she’d just think that I was a friend.

“Who’s looking for me?”

I turned and faced who I could only guess to be Jack. He was an older man, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up so high on his arms that I was certain he was cutting off circulation. I held out a hand to him and introduced myself. “I’m a friend of Harper’s. Can we talk?”

Without a word, he led me to his office and closed the door. I sat down and faced him, but not before scanning the newsroom in search of her. “Is she here today?”

Jack shook his head. “She called in. Something about twisting her ankle coming down the stairs this morning. I think she’s going to the doctor.” He stared me down for a minute. “Why?”

Leave it to Harper to distort the truth. If I was going to make any kind of headway on this whole situation, I needed to be as direct as possible. Jack looked like the type of guy who appreciated that. I gave him a quick snapshot of what had been going on with Harper. “Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Anyone hanging around more than they should?”

“Holy shit,” he muttered, wiping a tired hand over his face. “Harper normally gets her share of hate mail, but nothing like this.” He leaned back in his seat. “She’s a good kid, a fine reporter. She’s just very…passionate about what she writes about, and I don’t think she knows how to tone it down.”

“She shouldn’t have to,” I said blandly. “Not when it’s important.”

Jack made a face. “To Harper, everything’s important.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle because I knew it was the truth. “Okay, I get that, but have you noticed anything different lately? Any more hate mail than usual? Anyone stopping by here and asking about her?”

He shook his head. “I’ll keep an eye out, Levi, and thanks for coming to talk to me. I was worried about her after her brother was killed. She really took it hard. Only someone who knows her well would have noticed that because she tried to carry on with business as usual. His death and the cause of it have become a bit of an obsession for her, and I finally had to put my foot down to make her stop writing about it. We’re a local paper and all, but I certainly didn’t want the kind of attention she was asking for.”

Now wasn’t the time to debate that point with him. “Let me know if you find out anything. Talk to your employees, but it would be great if you don’t let Harper know what you’re doing or that I was here.” I stood and held out a hand to him. “I appreciate your time, Jack.”

Walking out of his office, I felt like I had taken a step in the right direction. With Harper out of the picture for the moment, I finally felt like I might have made an ally and have someone to help me watch out for her.

Pulling my sunglasses out of my pocket, I stepped out of the newsroom and came to a dead stop. There, leaning against the truck, was Harper. Steam was practically shooting from her ears.

“What the hell are you doing here, Levi?”

Harper

As soon as I’d seen Levi’s truck in front of the newspaper offices, I’d known he was getting into my business again.

I also knew I was the biggest idiot in the history of the world for letting him kiss me last night.

Not that I hadn’t been kissing him too, but he’d started it—so I was prepared to put the blame for the kissing entirely in his camp.

Also the blame for the huge mess my life was right now.

I’d gone to the doctor—not because he’d told me, but because it was really bothering me, and I didn’t want to risk any serious injury. And then I’d decided I should head to the police to file a report too, since I really didn’t want some wacko out there trying to kill me.

I’d only delayed because I was so angry with Levi, but the part of my mind that still functioned rationally realized that wasn’t a very good reason not to report it to the police.

But I was definitely not going to let Levi involve himself in the situation any further. Definitely not.

And I also wasn’t going to let some anonymous crazy shut me up or keep me from doing what I wanted to do.

Seething with rage, I waited by Levi’s truck, and he came out in just a few minutes.

And the bastard didn’t even look guilty about visiting my office.

“I was talking to your editor,” he said, raising obnoxious eyebrows.

“About what?”

“About you. About who might be trying to kill you.”

“Nothing gives you the right to come to my place of work and talk to my boss—or anyone else.”

He looked big and hard and intimidating and just a little mussed, with his hair disarrayed and in need of a shave. Part of me wanted to touch him—to stroke his face or his chest—but that just enraged me further. “I’m taking the right,” he said roughly. “You’re in danger, and you’re not taking the most basic of precautions to keep yourself safe.”

“And what basic precautions do you assume I’m not taking?”

“Going to the police.”

I realized something then, and a wave of fury swept over me. “What makes you think I haven’t gone to the police?”

“Are you saying you have?”

“I’m asking what makes you assume I haven’t?”

I could see him hesitate for just a moment. Then he admitted it. “I went there myself this morning, and they definitely didn’t know about the hit-and-run.”

I had to clench my fists at my sides to keep from clawing the arrogant look off his face. I was so angry I couldn’t even get out any words. And the anger was paired with a kind of helplessness I couldn’t tolerate.

It was like when I was a little girl and Gavin had held me up by my elbows to tease me. I’d kicked and screamed and raged at him but could do absolutely nothing to stop him and get down.

I could scream at Levi all I wanted, but he wasn’t going to back down. I could see it on his face.

But I wasn’t a little girl now, and Levi wasn’t my brother.

So, instead of raging, I gave him a brittle little smile. “I’m touched by your concern. I’m sure Gavin would be too.”

I saw something break on his face for just a moment. Then his brows lowered in a frown when I turned and walked toward the office building.

My ankle—which was just a minor sprain, thank God—hurt like hell, but I made myself not limp.

Levi fell into step with me. “What are you doing?”

“Going to work.”

“And then where?”

“Where do you suggest?”

He definitely didn’t believe my sweet voice. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What do you mean? You wanted to help me, right? Maybe you’re right. What do you suggest?”

“Just be careful. Take some basic precautions. Don’t go out alone—especially at night. Don’t be too much in the public eye. Let the military questions die down, at least for the time being, until we figure out what’s happening. Will you stop walking for a minute?”

I halted, relieved by the break to my ankle but annoyed because I felt relieved. I turned to face him again, holding my expression in the same smile. “I really do need to get into work. I already missed a couple of hours this morning.”

“Going to the doctor?” He was watching carefully, waiting for my reaction.

I kept smiling. “Just a slight sprain. No big deal. But thanks for your advice. I’m going to try to catch up with work all day, so you shouldn’t have anything to complain about with my behavior. I’ll stay out of trouble. Satisfied?”

“Sure.” His eyes were narrow, and I could tell he was suspicious.

He could be suspicious all he wanted. As long as he left me alone.

We’d reached the door, and I gave him a little wave. “Talk to you later.”

I went up to the next floor and watched from a window as Levi stood out on the sidewalk for a minute before finally striding back off toward his truck.

I let out a breath and went to my desk, greeting the people who passed by.

When I sat down, I thought for a few minutes. Then I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

When the voice came on the other end, I asked, “Hey. It’s Harper. I think I’m going to head up to DC at the end of the week. I’m wondering if you can help me out with a couple of things…I want to talk to some people—socially, not in an official capacity. What’s going on this weekend that might attract people with some influence in the government or military?”

I listened to a scattered list of possible events, until I jumped on a fund-raiser for military spouses in need. “That’s the one. Send me some information about it, will you? And, also, I’d like to have a press conference while I’m there. Can you help me arrange it?”

When I hung up, I was pleased with my plan.

I wasn’t a little girl. I wasn’t a fluttering fairy.

I was a competent professional, and I wasn’t going to let anyone—crazed villains or infuriating ex-Marines—force me into helplessness.

Jack had been talking to someone nearby, but he turned toward me after I hung up. “Heading out of town?” he asked with casual interest.

“Not until the weekend. I won’t have to miss any work.”

“Great. Sounds good.”

He wandered back to his office, and I checked my email for the information about the DC fundraiser.

***

When I left work later that day, I was trying not to scream at Randy.

“What do you mean you told him he could informally check around to see who might be after me?” I demanded.

“Well, he wanted to help, so I gave him a few things he might do. He’d have done it anyway, whether I suggested it or not.”

“But you had no right to suggest it. I would have come in today myself to report the hit-and-run, and I don’t want Levi to think he has any authority to interrogate my friends and coworkers.”

“I know you like to be independent, but this could be serious. Levi is a good guy to have around if there’s any trouble.”

“I don’t want him around,” I gritted out. “Don’t you dare suggest anything of the kind to him—or anyone else—again.”

He made some apologetic murmurs, although I could tell he wasn’t really sorry at all, and he thought I was being irrational.

Maybe I was being irrational, but that was what happened when you were trapped in a corner. You came out fighting.

No matter who was doing the trapping.

When I pulled my car out onto the street, I happened to glance in the rearview mirror and notice a familiar truck a few car lengths behind me.

I gasped in surprise.

Thinking I must be imagining it, I made a quick left turn without putting on my turn signal.

Sure enough, the truck turned too.

That fucking bastard. Was he actually just going to follow me around?

I shook with anger for a few minutes, until I got hit with a brainstorm. It would be easier without the sprain, but any discomfort I faced would be well worth the payoff.

So I stopped at the first drugstore I passed and got out. I walked immediately to the feminine hygiene aisle. Then I waited.

In about three minutes, Levi appeared in the aisle. I figured he’d lurk around the entrance for a bit, hoping I was just grabbing something, but when I took too long he’d come to find me, to make sure I hadn’t been kidnapped and whisked away out a back door or something.

I gave him a sweet smile. “What a coincidence!”

He obviously knew that I knew what he was doing, but he was definitely off-stride because I wasn’t launching an attack.

“Well, since you’re here, you can help hold things for me while I shop.” I grabbed a jumbo-sized package of sanitary pads and an enormous box of tampons, and I handed them to him. “Thanks.”

Then I turned on my heel and limped down the aisle.

Noticing the section of condoms, I grabbed a big box and turned around. He was still standing there like a statue, holding the female-product packages. “Well, come on,” I urged him. “I don’t have all day to shop.”

He gave me a cool glare but started toward me, making an obvious point of maintaining his macho aloofness.

I thrust the condoms at him and kept shopping.

I walked through every single aisle of the store and found some hemorrhoid wipes, adult diapers, and men’s hair-growth cream for him to carry too. People were definitely giving him strange looks as he trailed me with his collection of items, but he never said a word.

Just gave me darker and darker looks.

When I circled back and found some his-and-her-lubricant intended to increase the pleasure during sex, his composure almost cracked. I saw it happen, but he managed to hold it together.

With a sigh, I led him to the cashier and paid for all the loot he dumped on the counter.

“I hope you had fun,” he muttered as we left. He’d taken the bags, so he put them in the trunk of my car.

I gave a blithe shrug. “All of them are necessary items.”

“I think the hemorrhoid wipes and the sexy lubricant might be counterproductive.”

I almost—almost—laughed, but I didn’t. Just arched my eyebrows and got in my driver’s seat. “See you at the next stop,” I called out at him, smothering a laugh at his expression.

I stopped at another drugstore, a small grocery store, and convenience store, at each one making him carry a similarly embarrassing collection of items. I thought for sure he’d give up after the second one, but he kept trailing me at every stop I made.

I did hit pay-dirt at the convenience store, where we ran into a guy Levi went to high school with while we were standing in line to pay.

I thought the guy’s eyes would bug out of his head when he saw Levi with feminine sanitary items tucked under his arms and a motley collection of other supplies preciously balanced on a pile he was carrying, with the lubricant the crown on the top.

I had to give up after that stop, though. For one, my ankle was killing me. For another, these items were really starting to add up, and I didn’t have that much extra in my bank account.

So I headed over to Levi’s apartment, deciding I’d end this delightful shopping trip with a flourish.

He was out of his truck almost before he could have put it in park. Certainly before I got my seatbelt off.

“What are we doing here?” he demanded, looking confused and suspicious.

“Don’t get worried,” I told him. “I just need to store some of this stuff here. My mom would totally freak if I brought in the lubricant and all these condoms to the house.”

He looked vaguely relieved that I didn’t have something worse planned for him.

I quickly tried to think of something worse he might have been afraid of, but he must be more creative than me because I couldn’t think of anything good I could do here to drive him even more crazy.

So I just opened my trunk, emptied one of the bags, and filled it with all the condoms and the lubricant.

“So your mom will be okay with you bringing the adult diapers into the house?”

“I think I’ll have to donate those,” I admitted. “And maybe some of the tampons. It will be years before I can use all of these.”

I heard him chuckling, low in his throat, but I didn’t look at his face, afraid I might start to laugh too.

I was angry with him, I reminded myself. Absolutely furious.

I wanted to claw his face off.

Laughing with him would hardly be an appropriate way to express this anger.

I winced as I turned and put weight on my ankle. I tried to hide it, but not effectively.

“You better come inside and put ice on that ankle,” he said, in a different tone. He sounded concerned, not bossy, and it really was hurting.

So I said, “Okay. If you think you can refrain from obnoxiousness for about ten minutes.”

“I can, if you can refrain from torturing me for fun.”

I tried to fight a twitch of my lips. “But it’s
so
fun.”

He responded with a half-smile of his own, and we headed into his apartment.