One Night More (10 page)

“We don’t know it’s the suspect reaching out,” Davis stated in the smug tone that drove Galen insane. “It could be someone playing a prank.”

“Did you trace the call?”

“Yeah, traced it back to a pay phone downtown.”

Great. Nothing like a dead end to add to an already difficult case. “Look, Davis, I’m not saying that our guy isn’t a freaked-out mugger. I just think that by making that sort of assumption, and not exploring every possibility, we could be risking Harper’s safety. If your theory is wrong”—Galen took a deep breath—“it’s her ass, not yours.”

“Last time I checked,
Deputy
, you’re not my supervisor. In fact, you’re nothing more than a grunt working for me. So I’d advise you to watch the accusations. I don’t answer to you, and I’ll do my job however I damn well please. Ellis wasn’t exactly squeaky clean. The man was a total fuck-up in his personal life. He cheated on his wife, he couldn’t keep his kids in line, pissed away most of his money, and as far as I’m concerned, he bumbled through his job. But he came clean to the press, his wife, his constituents, time and again without even blinking. And his record over the past couple of years is pretty damn clean. No scandals. We can’t find a concrete motive for anyone to kill him, ergo, there’s no lead.”

Galen was going to take Davis’s
ergo
and shove it right up his overconfident ass. “Honestly, I can’t believe I wasted my time with this phone call. I was told I’d be brought up to speed on your investigation, but the only thing I know for sure is that the FBI doesn’t have a fucking clue how to do their job and you’ve got your head shoved so far up your—”

“I’d watch the next thing you say,” Davis warned. “All it takes is a phone call and you’ll be off this detail and writing reports for the next six months.”

Bullshit. Davis couldn’t do anything and he knew it. Monroe would laugh in his face if Davis tried to throw his weight around like that. The Marshals Service and the FBI worked together when they had to, but neither had power or jurisdiction over the other.

“Maybe you ought to ask the reporter what she knows about Ellis’s death.” Galen didn’t like the sneer in Davis’s voice. He clenched his hand into a fist so tight, the circulation cut off. “Maybe she’s got motive. The shooter left her alone—maybe they were working together. I interviewed her. She might be hiding something.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Galen squeezed his fist tighter, imagining Davis’s neck in his grip. “The security guards who found her said she was scared shitless. If they hadn’t interrupted the shooter, she’d be dead.”

“That’s what she says. The parking garage security staff said they saw a man standing by Ellis’s car. The garage was dark and they didn’t get a good look at him. What if he was coming to collect his partner, but rather than take any chances, they split up. She pretends to be a hapless victim, he escapes without being identified.”

Galen had heard some far-fetched theories before, but this one took the cake. “And what would her motive be?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Like I said, I think she’s hiding something. Maybe she and the senator had a fling on the side and he wanted to end it. Maybe she was stalking him. His office has logged frequent phone calls and interview requests from her.”

Jesus. Davis was certifiably stupid. “She’s a political reporter, Sean. I’d say interviews come with the territory. Did his office know why she made so many requests?”

“His assistant said he turned down every single one of her requests. Why? Ellis has been known to be pretty friendly with the press. And the more he turned her down, the more she persisted.”

Galen couldn’t help but smile. It fit Harper’s personality to a tee. Tenacious. It didn’t make her a target for suspicion, however. “How do you explain the missing voice recorder and the voice mail at her office, then?”

Davis scoffed, “We have nothing to go by but her word that the shooter took off with her digital recorder. For all we know, she left that message herself to throw us off.”

Was Galen hearing Davis correctly? The guy was clueless. “You’re off base. She’s not a person of interest in this case.”

“She’s a person of interest until I say she isn’t. This is my investigation.”

Great. So not only would Galen have to protect Harper from being a loose end that needed tying up, he was going to have to protect her from the FBI as well?

“This is the wrong move, Davis.”

“I think you need to do your job, and stick with the witness. Don’t worry about
my
job or how I’m doing it.”

Galen disconnected the call before he said something that he wouldn’t regret, but that might get him fired. He leaned back and looked through the glass door at Harper, typing away on her laptop. She had no idea she was a suspect. And why should she? No doubt Monroe had kept that little fact to himself.

Chapter Eleven

“I don’t believe it. I mean, seriously? What are the odds?”

Sophie sat curled up in a chair on Harper’s balcony, a glass of Moscato in her hand. She’d been perched in her seat for the past hour and her eyes were still bugging out of her head. Which under any other circumstance would be pretty hilarious.

“I know, right?” Harper took a sip from her glass and followed Sophie’s gaze to where Galen sat in the living room. “I’m pretty sure fate wants to see me suffer.”

“If this is what suffering is like, sign me up. Maybe I ought to go out and throw myself in the middle of a crime in progress. I need a hot deputy marshal for a babysitter, too.”

“Funny,” Harper remarked. “If you think I’m enjoying this, think again. He has no idea who I am, Sophie. Do you know how humiliating that is?”

Sophie arched a sinister brow. “You could always strip naked and remind him.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. One rejection from him is enough, thank you very much.” Harper leaned in toward her friend. “And can you please stop staring? He’s going to know we’re talking about him.”

“I can’t help it.” Sophie reached across the patio table for the bottle of wine. She dragged her gaze away from Galen long enough to refill her glass. “Boy is fine, Harp. Like,
fine
, fine. I don’t know how you can focus enough to put one foot in front of the other, let alone make conversation.”

“Yeah, well, conversation isn’t the problem.” Her initial plan to be a pain in Galen’s ass had sort of dissolved after the first day. Once you extolled the merits of a perfect grilled cheese to a guy, it was sort of difficult to play the tough girl. “He’s almost too easy to talk to.”

Sophie flashed her a knowing smile. “I take it you’re not going out of your way to be a royal pain in his ass anymore?”

“Not so much. Honestly, this situation is stressful enough without adding another layer. I thought it would make me feel better to put him through his paces, but really, it’s not worth the effort.” Over the past couple of days, her whatevership with Galen had settled into companionable professionalism. It wasn’t too bad, until her thoughts drifted to memories she was better off not focusing on. Then she found herself envying Galen’s lack of recollection.

“Did it ever occur to you that he might be pretending not to know you?” Sophie pointed her glass at Harper as though to drive her point home.

“I doubt it.” Why play games? The night they’d met, he’d proclaimed himself to be a straight shooter, and even now he didn’t pull any punches. Harper imagined someone like Galen wouldn’t be able to downplay the situation. “When he saw me in that office, his face was totally blank. Not even a hint that he recognized me.”

“So, what, you just exchange small talk all day while you try to avoid mentioning that you’ve seen him naked?”

“Pretty much,” Harper said with a shrug. “He texted me last night to check in after his shift was over, though.”

“Oh, really?” Sophie said in an arch tone. “Sounds promising.”

“I think we’ve reached the stage of our whatevership that he’s just trying to put me at ease. The U.S. Marshals’ version of customer service.”

“Whatevership?”

“Yeah, it’s what I’ve dubbed our arrangement. How else would I describe my situation? Holed up in witness protection with the guy I slept with who doesn’t seem to remember the event.”

“Whatevership is right.” Sophie laughed. “I can’t think of a better way to put it. So, what does he say in his texts? Anything naughty?”

“You wish,” Harper replied. “Mostly small talk. Checks up on the other deputies, makes sure I don’t need anything.”

“For a guy who doesn’t remember sleeping with you, he seems pretty concerned,” Sophie said. “I bet I’m right and he’s pretending. Maybe tomorrow, he’ll say good morning by visiting you in your shower.”

Harper’s gaze shifted to Galen. His feet were propped up on her coffee table, his laptop resting on his thighs. Whatever he was working on had his full attention, and Harper had never been so jealous of a piece of technology. “It’s been a few days, Sophie, and I’ve yet to have company in the shower. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Hey, I’ve got zero prospects at the moment. Until I can find a sexy marshal of my very own, I’ve got to live vicariously through you.”

Harper lifted her wineglass in a toast. “Let’s hope when you find him, he remembers you.”

“Amen to that.” Sophie clinked her glass against Harper’s.

 

 

By the time Harper’s friend left, Galen had only an hour of his shift left to go. Was it wrong to be annoyed that the other woman had monopolized Harper’s time, leaving him nothing to do but catch up on reports? He had a vague recollection of the vivacious blonde as one of the women who’d been with Harper that night at the bar. He’d barely noticed her, though. Hell, the entire sports pub could have burned down around them and he wouldn’t have noticed anything but Harper.
Seriously, dude, time to let it go
.

While she busied herself in the kitchen, Galen closed his laptop, no longer interested in work. “You’re lucky that Curt’s allowing you visitors.” He’d meant the comment to be good-natured, but suspected it came off sounding too harsh. She looked up from the sink, her expression sullen. Yep. Too harsh. “I just mean that your situation is unusual for such a high-profile case. That’s all.”

Harper rolled her eyes, and though she seemed dismissive, there was still a trace of concern in the hazel depths. “The only good thing about my work connections at the moment is the fact that the media has backed off. No droves of reporters or news vans parked out on the street. Don’t think Curt didn’t give me the riot act about reaching out to friends and family, though. I had to bitch up a storm for permission to see Sophie.”

“We’re good at what we do, Harper. We wouldn’t put these restrictions on you if we didn’t think they were necessary.”

“Yeah, I know.” She left the dishes she’d rinsed in the sink and turned away from him as she rifled through the refrigerator. “You know what I miss the most, though? Takeout. I’m seriously jonesing for some sushi. There’s a great place a mile or so from here on Burnside. It’s funny how something as simple as grabbing food at a restaurant can become so important.”

An opportunity presented itself and Galen wasn’t about to pass it up. Though they were civil now, he couldn’t deny that their current relationship had gotten off to a rocky start. Mostly because he’d been an insensitive dick who’d treated Harper like a piece of luggage to cart around. And though he still hadn’t forgiven Harper for lying to him all those months ago, he knew that what she was going through right now wasn’t easy. He had to start thinking of her as he would any other witness under his protection. She deserved any scrap of normalcy he could offer.

“Do you have a menu?” he asked.

Harper straightened and shut the refrigerator door. The smile she gave him almost made him forget why professional detachment was a good idea. “Are you serious? We can get takeout?” She fished a menu from a stack in a basket on the counter and handed it to him.

“Yep,” Galen replied. “I have the perfect delivery boy for the job.”

“Dude, you owe me big-time for this,” Landon said as he handed over the cardboard box of sushi takeout. “I had to drive across town to pick this up, you know.”

“Quit whining,” Galen said as he crossed to place the box on Harper’s dining room table. “You have to be over here in an hour for your shift anyway.”

“Yeah, sixty whole minutes. Just because you don’t have a life doesn’t mean that I don’t. Last time I checked, this badge I’m wearing doesn’t cover food delivery. Since you’ve ruined my evening, you might as well feed me.”

Galen hurried to the door, blocking his friend from entering. “Sorry, Deputy, but I only ordered for two.”

“You suck,” Landon griped as Galen moved to close the door. “I won’t forget about this. I’m so gonna make you my bitch when I run a witness security detail.”

“
If
,” Galen stressed. “If you ever run a security detail, you can pay me back. See ya.” He closed the door in Landon’s face, but that didn’t shut out the string of snarky comebacks Landon left in his wake.

“That was quick,” Harper replied as she emerged from her bedroom. She’d changed into a pair of yoga pants that hugged every soft curve of her ass and a little thin-strapped top that revealed the muscle definition of her slender arms.
Namaste
. “I thought it was against the rules for strangers to drop by.”

Galen smiled as he laid the food out on the table. “See, that’s where having a staff of trained professionals comes in handy.”

Harper’s mouth quirked in a half smile as she walked to the dining room and sat down. “You didn’t seriously have one of the deputies deliver us food, did you?”

“Landon’s on shift in an hour. He had nothing better to do.”

She eyed him suspiciously, her mouth still puckered in that not-quite smile. “Do you mean Deputy McCabe? I met him a few days ago. He’s a nice guy.”

Any woman with a pulse got a healthy dose of Landon McCabe charm, and Galen suspected his friend had doubled up with Harper. The detached professionalism Galen was trying so hard to exhibit took a backseat to a flare of annoyance at Harper’s affectionate tone. Annoyance because jealousy would indicate that his feelings toward the woman sitting across from him were something more than casual.
Which is why you were checking out her ass before she sat down? Real casual
.

“He’s all right.”

Harper quirked a brow at Galen’s stilted response. Sure, Landon was the closest thing he had to a brother, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t pop the guy in the nose if the situation called for it. Galen’s brain conjured up an image of Landon flirting with Harper in Monroe’s office. Definitely an offense worthy of a shot to the face.

“Well, if he brings me sushi once a week, he’s more than all right in my book.” She grabbed one of the spicy tuna rolls with her chopsticks and took a bite. “Oh my God,” she moaned. “So. Good. I amend my previous statement. He officially has my undying love and devotion.”

Holy shit. He had no idea that watching a woman eat sushi could be so damned
erotic
. That not-jealousy burned in Galen’s gut. Food delivery services earned Harper’s devotion? Galen was here twelve hours a day, six days a week ensuring her safety and protecting her life, but Landon gets her undying love? What a crock of shit.
Says the idiot who let her play him like a fiddle
. For all he knew, she still had a boyfriend somewhere.
Yeah, one she cheated on with you
.

Harper abandoned any conversation in exchange for an intimate moment with her dinner, which was fine by Galen. He didn’t feel much like making polite conversation at this point. Why did it seem like he had to constantly remind himself that Harper was the type of woman he shouldn’t get involved with? Lying and cheating were his top two deal-breakers. But the Harper he’d spent the past few days with didn’t strike him as the kind of person to practice deceit. Could it be that his assumptions were just that?

Too late to contemplate that now. What was done was done. He was on this assignment and that meant he had to put the past behind him. Acknowledging a previous relationship with her would be career suicide, and that was something Galen couldn’t afford.

Maybe he should have stayed in Paris.

“Galen?”

He met Harper’s concerned expression, her chopsticks hovering in midair. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Yeah.” She laughed. “I asked if you wanted the last spring roll.”

“Oh, no. Go ahead.”

“Are you okay?” Harper canted her head to the side as she examined him. “You seem a little . . .”

Broody? Pissed off? Flaky? Unprofessional? Childish?

“ . . . pensive.”

Oh, great. Pensive. The polite way of saying your mood is a total downer right now. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Harper poked at her spring roll with the chopsticks. Now who was pensive? “I know this can’t be the most exciting job in the world. Sorry.”

The soft side of Harper was not what he needed right now. He’d spent the past few days in a constant state of reflection, digging up the past, reminding himself why Harper was bad news, and then making up excuses as to why he should text to check up on her at eleven o’clock at night. The more he convinced himself to stay away, the closer to Harper he wanted to be. He’d never felt so conflicted, so utterly unfocused. And he didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few days with someone shouldn’t have such an impact, but it did.

“I told you, this is my job. It’s not about the excitement or whether or not this is a waste of my time. Because it isn’t. You didn’t ask to be a witness to a murder, and you sure as hell didn’t ask to be in the kind of danger you’re in. The upheaval in your life is real and it sucks a hell of a lot worse than the time we spend making sure you’re safe. So don’t be sorry, okay? You have nothing to be sorry for.”