“He has a weird obsession with psychics. They normally end up dead, just like his sister-in-law. Are you sure he hasn’t made contact yet?”
She shook her head. Not that she’d tell this guy anything. “I wouldn’t know him if I passed him on the street.”
His lips twitched. “If he does, call me, and I’ll help you.”
He gave a slight nod before he turned and walked away. Relief swished out of her body in the form of a sigh; the relief increasing the farther down the street he got without bothering to look back. She’d hadn’t been expecting that. She still had all of her body parts intact. What the hell had just happened?
“The meter’s running, lady. Are you coming or what?” the cabbie said, prompting her to get in the cab.
She mumbled her address to the driver and stared down at the card. Harper ran her finger over the embossed number, the card as cryptic as the man. No insignia, no name, just a single phone number. Since when did serial killers have business cards? Who was playing whom?
Chapter Eight
Harper paidthe cabbie and glanced up at her door. How in the hell was she going to act like nothing was wrong, knowing that Ryker could be watching? That was if he was even bothering to still watch. A mix of emotions rolled through her as she shoved her key in the door’s lock and walked inside.
The smell of roses and chocolate drifted to her nose. Any other night, any other place, and she would have been happy. Instead, she leaned against the door and shoved the card into her pocket. The butterflies in her stomach danced, but she didn’t know if it was in dread or delight.
“Harper?” Ryker called out, steppinginto the foyer. He’d changed since that morning, his shorts replaced with jeans. His shirt was now a deep blue, making the color of his eyes sparkle. He didn’t make a move as the heat of his gaze slowly traveled down her body and back up. A look of uncertainty crossed his face.
“What are you doing here? Watching me from the cameras wasn’t good enough?” she asked around the lump in her throat, unsure whom to trust.
“Your aunt and your sisters gave me the file. There was no way you would have known Grant was a fraud when he was talking to you.”
Are you? The question crossed her mind and almost slipped from her lips.
Ryker’s steps were slow and measured as he closed the distance between them. He cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She leaned into his palm and, for a brief second, let her eyes slip closed, not at all sure she should trust him. Her body reacted to him. Her brain recognized him. Her heart was starting to. What if everything she wanted to believe was wrong? Harper opened her eyes and met his gaze. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she gathered her resolve. “You were right. We can’t do this.”
His gaze searched hers as if looking for truth in her words. He didn’t understand,and she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to make him without telling him about Grant’s visit.
“What happened?”
She shook her head and stepped around him into the living room. Three dozen roses sat on the kitchen island, along with an assortment of various chocolate desserts. She picked up a brownie, broke it in half, and held it up to his mouth. She’d eat the other half only if he took a bite, unsure if Grant or he was really the one who wanted her dead.
Ryker bit into it and held her gaze. He knew. She could see it in his eyes, read it in his body. She waited for him to swallow before she took a single bite and put the brownie down. If she were going to die, it would be death by chocolate. There were worse ways to go.
“Why do you think Grant killed your sister-in-law?”
Ryker took an unconscious step back, and his features hardened. She knew she was pushing her luck, but she had to know for sure. “Why do you think he didn’t?”
She held his gaze, matching the intensity in his eyes. She wasn’t backing down until she had the answers she needed. The answers she deserved. “Always answering a question with a question. You ready to play a game?”
She was mentally calculating all of the sharp objects within her reach. She probably wouldn’t win, but she’d die trying.
“Sure.” His voice hardened. “Twenty Questions?” His eyes narrowed. “You can even go first.”
Her stomach twisted in knots. Not because she thought he’d actually harm her, but because she didn’t want Grant to be telling the truth. “Why do you think Grant killed her?”
“His fingerprints were in her house.”
“He could have been there before. That doesn’t mean he’s a killer.”
“My turn,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “What happened in the office today after I left?”
She breathed a sigh of relief. She could answer that one honestly without bringing up Grant. He’d happened outside the office. “I listened to the calls and tried to track Grant,” she said as she moistened her lip.
“Is that all?”
