“I’ll get a copy of the police report,” Chase said. “I’ll know more after I take a look.”
“I brought you a copy.” Dickerson set a manila folder on the desk, along with a flash drive. “This is everything I’ve been able to dig up. I’m hoping, after you’ve had a chance to read what’s inside and in the digital file, you’ll find something that can tell us the truth.”
“I’ll do my best, Mr. Dickerson, though I can’t guarantee the outcome.”
“Find out what you can. That’s all I ask.”
Chase rose and walked Dickerson to the door. By the time he had returned to his desk, the intercom was buzzing.
It seemed like one problem followed another, old cases where something new cropped up, new cases where one of his PIs needed help.
He thought about calling Harper but something held him back. He had never been good at deceiving a person he cared about. He didn’t like doing it now.
It was well after dark by the time he left the office and headed home. By 10:00 p.m. he still hadn’t texted or phoned Harper. Instead he sat in his living room staring out at the familiar sparkling lights, thinking of Harper and wishing she were there with him.
Thinking of his role in bringing her father to justice.
Thinking of the lies he had told her. Wondering how the hell things had gotten so balled up.
Whatever happened, he refused to let Harper believe he didn’t care. With a fortifying breath, he picked up the phone and punched in her number.
She answered on the first ring. “Chase...?”
“Hi, baby. I’m sorry it’s so late. Long day. Lots of problems.”
“I...umm...didn’t think you were going to call.”
“I meant to call sooner. Time just slipped away.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Relief softened her voice. “You’re calling me now.”
Guilt swept over him. He couldn’t go on like this. It wasn’t fair to either one of them. He had to tell her the truth or put their relationship on hold, as he had meant to do from the start. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was the only thing his conscience would allow.
“There’s something we need to talk about, baby.”
“That’s not a problem,” Harper said, a smile in her voice. “I’m just walking up to your front door.”
Chase swore softly. He tried to pretend he didn’t feel a leap in his heart, but he would be lying. Striding down the hall, he pulled open the front door, and Harper stepped into his arms.
“When I didn’t hear from you, I thought you didn’t want to see me.” She leaned into him, her arms around his neck. “I thought a few nights in bed and you’d had enough of me. I figured if that was all you wanted, I deserved a goodbye in person.”
“Harper...angel...” He looked into her beautiful face and longing swelled inside him. His hand slid into her silky hair, fisted, and he pulled her mouth up to his for a deep, burning kiss.
He wasn’t sure what happened next, how they started tearing each other’s clothes off as they stumbled down the hall to his bedroom.
He wasn’t sure how they ended up naked in his big bed, both wildly aroused, mouths and bodies fused, both of them reaching a mind-blowing climax. How afterward they drifted down, covered in perspiration, utterly sated and barely able to move.
He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but he knew one thing for certain. He wasn’t tired of Harper Winston. He wasn’t sure he ever would be. And giving her up was out of the question. He’d work things out, find another solution.
Curling her into his side, he draped an arm possessively around her. As he drifted to sleep, he was still trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do.
Knox Winston sat at the desk in his study, staring at the expensive Dalmore single malt. The bottle had sat in the same spot every night since Chase Garrett had brought it, a gift meant to buy his daughter like a high-priced whore.
Every time he looked at it, his fury swelled. Tonight, he’d finally had enough. Balling his hand into a fist, Knox looked over at Simon Graves, who sat with one leg crossed over the other, the epitome of cool.
“Get Angelo and Carlos in here. Now.”
Simon didn’t ask why, just rose and left the study. Only a few minutes passed before he returned with two of Knox’s top enforcers. Angelo Pierucci was lean, tough and wiry. Carlos Escobar was thick-muscled and stout.
