She looked up and their gazes locked. The paramedic was still talking, about what he had no clue. The sound of her voice became white noise in the distance and everything melted away but Harper. “Thanks for checking her out,” Galen said absently. He brushed past the paramedic, who apparently wasn’t done talking to him. Whatever. The only thing he cared about right now was getting Harper the hell out of here.
“Deputy Kelly?”
With multiple local and federal law enforcement agencies on scene, the shooter was long gone. Still, Galen wasn’t about to take any chances. He needed to get her someplace safe.
“Deputy?”
Jesus, was the paramedic still trying to talk to him? “What?” he barked, too distracted for any more small talk.
“You’re bleeding pretty badly.” She cocked a brow and pointed. Galen looked down at his shoulder, only now aware of the crimson stain on his shirt. “Maybe we should check
you
out.”
There was so much adrenaline in his system right now, he hadn’t felt a thing. Galen opened the three top buttons of his shirt—the fabric was ripped to mark the bullet’s passage—but before he could peek inside, the paramedic had the shirt tugged halfway off his arm.
“I think it’s just a scratch.”
“It’s a pretty deep graze,” the paramedic countered. “You might want to get it stitched up.”
No way was he wasting time at a hospital for a flesh wound while someone else looked after Harper. “Just slap a bandage on it and call it good,” he said. “Because we’re out of here.”
Galen took a seat beside Harper in the back of the ambulance. He stripped off his shirt so the paramedic could properly bandage his arm and he winced as she swabbed the wound with something nasty and antiseptic. “I’m pretty sure she’s trying to hurt me,” he said as an aside to Harper.
A corner of her mouth hinted at a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I think the blame for that falls on me.”
She felt guilty. For the chaos, the museum’s now shattered glass doors, the fear, and now his wounds. He didn’t have to be a mind reader to know; her creased brow and the anguish in her eyes told him everything. “Once I’m bandaged up, I’m getting you out of here.”
“Home sounds good right about now,” Harper said on a sigh.
“Not home. Sorry, Harper, but you can’t go back there.” They wouldn’t be going back to her apartment. Not after such a brazen attempt on her life.
Her expression changed and she sat up straighter. “I have to go home.” She laced her fingers tightly together. “I-I need my laptop.”
“I can send a deputy for your laptop.” Jesus, someone had tried to make Swiss cheese out of her and all she could think about was her computer.
The anguish and stress that had softened her features hardened into determined stone. “No, Galen. We need to get it. Now. Then I’ll go wherever you want.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“In and out, Harper. Okay?” He’d been running the drill for the past seven blocks, getting her ready to grab her shit and go. He wasn’t going to take another chance with her safety. Full-on witness protection started now. “We need to get you away from anything that’s familiar. Anything that can be connected to you. As soon as possible. Whoever shot at you? Not so interested in keeping a low profile. You get where I’m going with this?”
Harper folded her arms across her chest and stared out the window. “I know, Galen. I can do that. But I need a few clothes and my computer. We’ll be in and out in five minutes. And for the record, I do realize that being shot at in a public place sends a pretty clear message. I’m through playing games.”
Her defeated tone did little to quell Galen’s anxiety. The steering wheel creaked under his grip as he took a left on Thirteenth Avenue. “You need to stay by my left shoulder at all times,” he instructed. “Don’t walk too fast or too slow. Got it?” As of now, it was safe to assume that whoever had shot at Harper would consider keeping his distance. For a while, at least. Still, Galen couldn’t help but feel on edge. This had quickly become the most important assignment of his life and he refused to be anything less than one hundred percent.
Galen wished she’d turn her head away from the window so he could see her expression. He didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was, but she needed to understand the situation. From here on out, Harper would be confined to a hotel room and it was likely she’d soon be moved out of the Portland area entirely. If she thought being imprisoned in her condo had been bad, she hadn’t seen anything yet. Total lockdown bothered witnesses the most. Half of them cracked before the first week was over. Harper, on the other hand, probably wouldn’t last the first couple of hours. But maybe if he could drill into that stubborn head of hers just how fragile her situation had become, she’d settle down and be more cooperative.
She turned to look at him. “I want you to know that I’m not trying to make things difficult. I don’t want to put anyone else in danger. We’ll get what we need and get out of there. After that, I’ll do whatever you tell me to from here on out.”
“No one would be at risk in the first place if I’d done my job and kept you in your apartment where you belong. I’m the deputy in charge. And I made a bad call. I’m sorry, Harper.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Her emphatic tone made his chest tighten with emotion. “I screwed up, not you. I didn’t give you a choice and I pushed you into making a rash decision. I’m the one who should be sorry. Because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, my entire life is someone else’s responsibility to manage. Do you know how helpless that makes me feel, Galen? I’m the pet you take care of while your neighbor’s on vacation. I can’t even help myself out of this situation. I have to rely on the Marshals Service for protection, and the FBI for exoneration. And I have to sit tight with my fingers crossed and hope that nothing else happens. You want to protect me? Well, I want to protect you, too. I almost got you killed today.”
Protect him? God, he wanted to pull the car over, take her in his arms and hold her until all of this bullshit melted away and there was only the two of them. She didn’t deserve the guilt she felt. This was his job, damn it, and she needed to quit being such a control freak and let him do it. When he pulled to a stop in front of her building, he threw the car into park with so much force it was a wonder the shifter was still intact. He cupped the back of his neck in an attempt to massage the king-sized knot of tension that felt like a metal vise clamped from shoulder to shoulder and took a few deep breaths. “Remember what I told you,” he said on an exhale. “Stay to my left. Okay?”
“Okay.” Harper opened the door and waited for Galen to come around to her side of the car. “But none of this covering my back, taking-a-bullet-for-me crap. Because I’m not going to let you do that.”
Fucking hell. It was going to be a long night.
Harper strolled toward the building as though she didn’t have a care in the world when in reality, she felt like sprinting for cover. Fear congealed as a cold knot in the pit of her stomach and she had to ball her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. She felt exposed, too vulnerable, and she questioned for the millionth time whether or not returning to her condo was a good idea.
She had most of what she needed in her purse. She’d kept Ellis’s flash drive with her at all times, but her laptop contained months’ worth of research that she’d accumulated on the senator while trying to ferret out any dirty dealings or questionable decisions during his term, not to mention new notes pertaining to Ellis’s journals and his cryptic reference to Blue Lake. If her would-be murderer happened to find her computer, the information she’d stored on it might be the final nail in her coffin. She couldn’t afford to sit around and wait for someone to take another shot at her. Or Galen. Or anyone else. Harper needed that information because it might help her make a connection to Ellis’s secrets and his mysterious last words.
As they entered the building, Harper tried to control her breathing. Her head was spinning, her world reeling, and she’d treated her only support like he couldn’t do his job instead of acknowledging that he was the only thing keeping her anchored to sanity. What had happened today had shaken her to her very core. Terrified her. And because of that, she couldn’t risk anyone getting their hands on her laptop, and likewise, she couldn’t bear putting anyone else in danger to retrieve it for her.
“Take the elevator, not the stairs.”
Harper veered from their usual course and headed toward the elevator, wondering at his sudden change in tactics. “I thought the stairwell was always the safer choice.”
“Not today. If someone’s been watching your building, they might know that we usually take the stairs. It’s best to change up our routine right now.”
It scared the shit out of her to think that someone might have been spying on her for the past few weeks. She pushed the call button for the elevator and said a silent prayer of thanks that Galen was by her side.
You ruined the most perfect afternoon of your life, managed to get shot at, and all because you can’t seem to quit micromanaging every aspect of your life. Way to go, Harp.
But right now, her control freak attitude had more to do with the fear that had rocked her to her very foundation as she watched the paramedic bandage Galen’s shoulder.
Her stupid, childish antics had almost gotten
him
killed.
The elevator doors slid open and Harper stepped inside, steadying herself on the railing inside the compartment. Thinking of what might have happened made her light-headed, and dizzy, and sick to her stomach. The elevator shot upward and Harper thought she might yak right then and there. Losing Galen would have destroyed her and the realization of what he’d come to mean to her was more frightening than any attempt on her life. She was falling irrevocably in love with him. And the fact that she’d risked his life was like salt in an open wound.
“Harper? Let’s get a move on.”
She looked up to find Galen standing on the other side of the elevator, holding the doors open for her.
Great. Way to look like you’ve got your shit together, Harp
. She brushed past him without a word, but he wound his hand around her wrist in an iron grip and pulled her back.
“Stay at my left shoulder, understand?” His blue eyes sparked with fire and Harper tried to pull away. He tightened his grip, and she relaxed at his side, knowing he wouldn’t take another step until she did what he said.
Harper bit back the words she wanted to say.
Fine! Take the lead. Maybe this time you’ll get a bullet to the head instead of a grazed shoulder. Just go and get yourself killed.
Bitter tears stung at Harper’s eyes as she fell in step behind him. Why did he have to be so goddamned good at his job?
When they reached her apartment, Galen pulled a gun from the holster hanging under his left arm. He held a finger up to his lips and then stabbed it downward, indicating to Harper that she should stay put. Her heart jumped up into her throat and she couldn’t take a breath to save her life.
God, please don’t let there be anyone on the other side of the door
. She didn’t think she could handle another shooting today.
He held his left hand out, palm up, and Harper handed him her keys. He slowly slid the key into the lock and turned it. Then, he chambered a round in the gun, gripped the doorknob, and turned. Galen took a deep breath, and his gaze locked with Harper’s for a single moment before he pushed open the door and pressed his back to the wall. His gun drawn, expression fierce, he swung forward, and his large frame took up the entire doorway. Harper only knew something was wrong when a snarl tore from Galen’s throat.
“U.S. Marshals,” he called out.
Oh, shit
. Someone was in her apartment. Adrenaline scorched through Harper’s veins and her heart slammed against her rib cage. She fought the urge to grab Galen’s arm and pull him back as she kept her body pressed tight against the wall, careful to keep out of sight. Damn it, what was going on?
Galen looked around, indecision warring with the determined expression on his face. “Do you know any of your neighbors?” he murmured. “Don’t answer out loud.”
Harper nodded.
“Go, quietly. Get someone to let you in. Lock the door and wait for me. Understand?”
Again, Harper nodded.
Galen jutted his chin in a silent
get out of here
. Harper tiptoed down the carpeted hallway, seven doors back to Mrs. Holloway’s condo. Her elderly neighbor was the only person who’d be home this time of day, and right now, she was Harper’s best bet.
After several successively louder raps at the door, Mrs. Holloway answered. “Well, hello, Harper. Did you misplace your keys again, dear?”
Okay, so maybe she occasionally locked herself out of her apartment. But Mrs. Holloway didn’t seem to think it was quite as embarrassing as Harper did. She cast a furtive glance in Galen’s direction and swallowed down the knot of fear that lodged in her throat as she watched him duck inside her apartment.
Please, please, please let him be safe
. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs. Holloway,” she said as she went inside. No need to freak the poor old woman out. “My friend ran down to the lobby to get someone to let us in. I haven’t talked to you for a while, so I thought I’d pop in and see how you were while I waited.”
If she brought a gunfight to Mrs. Holloway’s door, she’d never forgive herself.
A year seemed to pass in every minute spent in Mrs. Holloway’s apartment. The small talk flowed, but to be honest, Harper wasn’t tracking. She offered Harper a cookie, oatmeal maybe. It tasted like cardboard, and she had to remind herself to swallow.
When a knock came at the door, Harper jumped about a foot off Mrs. Holloway’s couch. “That must be my friend,” she said with a sheepish laugh. Mrs. Holloway started toward the door, but Harper stopped her. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ll get it.” No freaking way would she let a sweet old woman take a bullet for her. It was bad enough Galen was risking his life. She peered through the peephole in the door and let out a sigh of relief when she saw Galen’s face.
She tried not to cringe at the disapproving expression on his face when she opened the door. “The FBI and PPB are on their way. Let’s get your laptop and get out of here.”
Harper turned to an expectant Mrs. Holloway. “My keys are here,” she said with a laugh. “Have a nice weekend, Mrs. Holloway. I’ll stop by next week for a chat.”
“Take a cookie for the road, and one for your friend, too.”
Harper swiped a couple of oatmeal somethings off the plate and smiled. “Thanks.”
“Cookie?” She held her hand out to Galen as she shut the door behind them. He scowled in response. “Gotcha. Not an oatmeal fan.”
Her attempt at levity went without reward as Galen stalked down the hall to her apartment. Harper dumped the cookies in a waste bin at the end of the hall before she walked through her front door. And froze right where she stood.
The place was trashed. Furniture overturned, cushions scattered, drawers emptied. Harper walked through her apartment in a daze as she took stock of broken picture frames, her upended mattress and bed linens strewn from one end of her bedroom to the other. Her closet was wrecked. Clothes everywhere, shoes tossed—even the shower curtain in her bathroom had been torn down.
“We shouldn’t have come here. I put us in danger and—”
“Get what you need. Quickly. Do you have any idea what they were looking for, Harper?” The accusation in his tone made Harper cringe. “Maybe your laptop?”
Harper had been a fool to think she could ever get one over on the savvy law enforcement pro. He had to have been suspicious of why she’d want her computer above anything else. “They didn’t get it.” Her own voice was nothing more than a murmur.
“How can you be sure?”
Harper sighed. She was tired as hell and just wanted to take a bath and go to bed. And now, she couldn’t even do that in her own home. “I hid it, because I was afraid something like this might happen.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Harper.” The expletive shot out of Galen’s mouth, and Harper was pretty sure everyone on her floor could hear him. “Get it and let’s go.”
Okay, so she probably deserved his anger. She’d kept secrets and the result hadn’t been great. She dug in her closet and moved the clothes and other crap away from the back left corner. “All of the units in this condo come with a jewelry safe.” She pulled back the carpeting to expose a small lockbox built into the floor. “It just so happens to be big enough to hold a laptop. Do you have my keys?”
Galen tossed her keys and she caught them. She unlocked the safe and pulled her laptop out, safe and sound, and tucked it under her arm. Hopefully, she’d find something in her notes to make this trip worthwhile. Otherwise, she may have pushed Galen away for good.