“Is Dad the reason you and Chase broke up?”
Her throat ached and her eyes filled. “Yes.”
“Don’t let Dad destroy what you and Chase have, Harper.”
“Chase used me, Michael. He was working with the DEA. I can’t forgive that.”
“He works with law enforcement, sis. That’s his job. It’s what he does.”
“It was all a lie. There’s no way I can forgive him.”
“Chase forgave me for all the misery I put him through. He came when I needed him most. One thing I know about Chase, whatever happens, if you need him, he’ll be there for you.”
“I’ll think about what you’ve told me. I’ll think about everything. Bye, Mikey. Thanks.” She swallowed, wiped tears from her cheeks. No matter what her brother said, it was over between them.
Chase awoke the follow morning with an anvil banging away in his head. Too much whiskey last night, a rare occurrence for him. After the fight in the parking lot, he’d been too wired to go home. At Clancy’s, he and Bran had run into Wolfe and Maddox.
When Chase left the bar, Bran had insisted on following him home in case Winston’s thugs were still around. His brother had come in for a nightcap. They’d both had a few more drinks. Bran had decided he shouldn’t drive and wound up spending the night in the guest room.
At least the booze had helped Chase sleep instead of lying awake half the night thinking of Harper. According to Zach Tanner, the bug was still working, so Harper hadn’t said anything about it to her father. That was something, he guessed.
But Chase was worried about her. He’d hurt her, as he had sworn he would never do. He wanted to call her, make sure she was okay. He wanted to tell her he cared about her. Hell, way more than cared.
Which, considering the situation with her father, was the reason he hadn’t wanted to get involved with her in the first place. He’d always been attracted to Harper. Now that he’d spent time with her, slept with her, the attraction was over-the-top.
He told himself she was better off if he just left her alone, and somehow managed to convince himself.
Sitting behind his desk at the office, he slid open one of the desk drawers and took out a bottle of Advil and a bottle of Aquafina, popped a couple of pain pills and downed them with a slug of water.
The phone rang. Chase picked it up and Tabby’s voice floated over the line. “I think Mr. Dickerson is onto something, Chase. This whole heart attack thing stinks.”
“I thought you might say that.”
“Did you know Betsy Dickerson took out a half-a-million-dollar life insurance policy on her husband forty-five days before he died?”
“Yeah, I saw that in the file. Could be coincidence.”
“I don’t think so. James had to have a checkup to qualify. Guess who did the checkup?”
Interest curled through him. “Don’t tell me—the same doctor who was present when he died.”
“Bingo. Dr. Bernard Atwood. Atwood is the Dickerson family physician. Forty-six years old, single, decent-looking, and my guess is he’s plenty chummy with the widow.”
“And you’re guessing this...because?”
“I took a look at Atwood’s credit cards. Until her husband died, Betsy Dickerson worked as a bank manager at Wells Fargo Bank. The branch is two doors down from the Copper Kettle Café. According to Atwood’s Gold American Express, in the three weeks before Betsy quit her job, he had lunch seven times at the Copper Kettle.”
“Very interesting.”
“Yup. Especially since his office is a couple of miles away.”
“So for some strange reason, Atwood drove downtown a couple of times a week to eat in the restaurant next to the bank where Betsy Dickerson just happened to work. Doesn’t give us any actual proof, but it’s a damn good start.”
“You bet it is and believe me I’m on it.”
“So am I. I’ll make a trip to the Copper Kettle, see if I can confirm your guesses.”
“Great. Back to you soon.” Tabby hung up the phone.
