Graham buried one hand in the pocket of his chinos while the other held a file at his side. His dress shoes tapped against the sidewalk, and he blew out a long breath as he walked up the steps to the front door of a townhouse.
Harper’s going to kill me.
After Mickey had left, he’d been lucky enough to find a flight to Cancun leaving mid-morning. He didn’t have time to dick around, waiting for Harper to get into the office. He’d called in and wasn’t surprised his boss wasn’t there. Then he’d tried Harper’s cell phone, but was sent straight to voicemail. So, he decided to come straight to his residence. He was already in hot water. What would a little more heat do?
He hated the slight tremor in his hand as he lifted it and knocked on the bright red door. Weakness could not be shown, at least not right now. There was no doubt in his mind he was on the right track, and he needed Harper to finally see it, too. He couldn’t convince Harper if he showed weakness.
An eternity passed and his entire career flashed before his eyes before the door opened and Harper stared at him with the look of death in his eyes. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You wanted to see me first thing this morning, but I don’t have time to meet with you once you get to the office. I have a plane to catch. I figured you’d rather speak to me before I left the country.”
“So you came to my house? Are you insane?” Harper’s face grew red and a vein in his forehead bulged.
Graham bit into his cheek and stood his ground. He lifted the file in the air. He’d printed off the pictures he’d taken of the house last night to add to it before coming to see Harper, along with the picture of Paula Williams. “I brought some evidenceto show you. I think it might change your mind about how I’ve handled the case.”
Harper waved his hand through the air as if swatting away an annoying gnat. “Do you think I haven’t seen it? And everything you have in your file is circumstantial at best. Mere speculation and garbage at worst.”
His fingers curled around the edge of the thin file and he ground his teeth together. “Sir, I respectfully disagree with you. And there’s new evidence I added late last night.”
A heavy sigh lifted Harper’s broad shoulders and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t you understand? We can’t use anything you found in that house. You didn’t wait for the warrant. Looking at it won’t do a damn thing except piss me off.”
“I had a damn good reason to go into the house before the warrant came through last night. A woman cried out for help. Any judge would agree with me and take everything we found last night into consideration.”
“Watch yourself, Grassi. You’ve been skating on thin ice for a while. I’d hate for you to fall through. I’m not sure you’d ever resurface.”
Graham thrust the file toward him. Harper hadn’t even seen the photos from last night yet, and he didn’t know about Paula. “If you’d just?—”
“Enough.” Harper leaned forward and shook a bony finger in Graham’s face. “I’m not the only one who thinks you’re pulling on the wrong thread. Either you come up with something fast, or I’m taking you off the case. The lives of three young girls are at stake, and I’m not going to let your mistakes lead them to their graves. Now get to work.”
Numbness crept into his limbs and he turned to walk down the stairs. Before his legs complied, he threw the file at Harper’s feet. What the hell was going on? He’d never been treated this way before. And someone else thought he was messing up?A million questions danced on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them down.
“Grassi.”
He stopped at the bottom of the stoop and turned his head to face his boss. The deep lines of Harper’s face seemed even more severe with the morning light streaming directly on him. His intimidating presence dominated the doorframe. “Yes?”
“You have one week. If you can’t find me something concrete, you’re done.” The door slammed shut and Graham flinched.
It took all the self-control he had not to storm back up to the door and give Harper a piece of his mind, but he couldn’t waste his time, or his breath. A glance at his watch showed him he only had an hour before he needed to be at the airport. A quick thrill raced through his veins. Maybe he’d get lucky and Mickey would be working his flight.
Oh shit, Mickey. He groaned as he walked to his car. He hadn’t even asked her how her first flight back had gone. And now she would be working the same flight that had almost gotten her killed. She’d never believe he wanted to see where things could go between them if he didn’t even remember to ask her the most basic questions. Pushing it to the back of his mind, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and called Eric.
“Hey, man,” Eric answered on the third ring.
“I hope you’ve missed me, because you’ll be seeing my ugly mug soon.” He pressed the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he put the car in drive and headed home. He had just enough time to pack and make it to the airport for a stiff drink before boarding his plane.
“I guess Harper wasn’t impressed with the house you found last night?”
Graham snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
“Did you show him the pictures you sent me?” Eric’s voice held a hint of disbelief.
“He wouldn’t even look at them. He’s not convinced my search was legal,” he said with a slight shake of his head, even though Eric couldn’t see him. “I threw them at his feet when I left. Hopefully he’ll stop being a stubborn ass and at least flip through them.”
Eric let out a low, long whistle. “Damn. You’ve got balls.”
“Drastic times call for drastic measures, right? And our backs are against the wall here. Harper gave us one week, and if we don’t find the girls or Bogart, he’s pulling us off the case. Well, me at least.”
“You go, I go.”
