Asher let out a breath. “Bourbon and bitters, rocks. Thanks.”
He slid into the booth next to Harper as a woman started singing Ed Sheeran’s “Shivers.”
“Harper and I need refills as well,” Gabe said, getting up and grabbing their empty glasses. “I’ll give you a hand with the drinks, Tariq.”
Alone with Asher, Harper resisted the urge to say something, anything, to fill the awkward silence. After her mother died Harper remembered people struggling to think of what to say, unsure how to react. Mostly they came up with platitudes that not only did not help but enraged Harper: “She’s in a better place” or “She wouldn’t want you to be sad.” What Harper had wanted most was simply for them to sit quietly, to support her just by their presence, to give her the time and the space she needed to formulate her thoughts and to attempt to wrap her arms and mind and heart around her grief, not try to brush it aside. But, as she had since learned, staying present yet quiet in the face of tragedy might sound simple, but it was far from easy.
After a long, uncomfortable moment, Asher asked, “How did you know my sister?”
“I didn’t, not really,” said Harper, wondering how much to disclose about Delilah Mason’s last moments. “But I was there that night. On the ghost tour that…found her.”
Asher placed his hand on hers, suddenly urgent. “Tell me everything.Please. Don’t hold back.”
“I…There really isn’t a lot to tell. I’m so sorry, I—”
Tariq and Gabe returned to the table with their drinks. Tariq’s gaze zeroed in on Asher’s hand on Harper’s. Feeling awkward, Harper withdrew her hand.
“We were just talking about finding Delilah,” Harper said quietly. “That night.”
“That must have been so awful,” said Gabe, setting a frosty pint glass on the table.
Tariq placed the bourbon in front of Asher and a glass of red wine in front of Harper and took his seat.
“I know this is probably hard for you, but it would help if I knew what you saw. Anything at all,” urged Asher. “The police said they ‘weren’t releasing any details to protect the integrity of the investigation,’ whatever that means. I can’t stop thinking about it…”
“I can appreciate that,” Tariq said. “The thing is, though, we really don’t know what happened. We simply came upon her, there in her garden. She was alive but wasn’t able to tell us anything. A member of the tour group was a retired nurse and did what he could to help her until the EMTs arrived. The whole thing lasted maybe ten, fifteen minutes.”
“And she was found under the Witch Tree?”
Tariq nodded.
“She wasn’t left alone,” Harper said.
Asher looked stricken. Even in the dim light of the bar, his beautiful blue eyes were remarkable. He shook his head. “I should have been there. I should have protected her.”
“She was an adult, Asher,” Tariq said. “You could hardly have been escorting her every moment of every day. You both had careers, lives of your own.”
Asher let out a loud snort. “Delilah was the one with a true vocation, the one with true talent. My work seems so…” He trailed off, apparently searching for the right word. “So trivial in comparison.”
“What kind of work do you do?” Harper asked.
“I’m at the Defense Language Institute.”
“Asher speaks several languages,” said Tariq.
“That’s impressive,” Harper said. “What languages do you teach?”
“None, actually. The institute employs only native speakers to teach the language classes. I work in development.” He took a sip of his drink, staring off into space. “Tariq, I believe I owe you an apology. I was a real pain in the ass when you were seeing Delilah. It’s just that she has awful taste in men.”
Tariq let out a bark of a laugh. “Talk about your backhanded compliments.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. But…her divorce was rough, and afterward I felt she was vulnerable. Which may seem absurd—anyone who knew Delilah knew she was a woman with a mind of her own. Thing is, when we were kids, we were so close, did everything together. And I felt I had to shield her from our father. He was a brute.”
“That must have been difficult,” said Harper.
“More than you can imagine. It was a long time ago, but it left a mark. As adults, we’ve both struggled with relationships. And Delilah’s latest guy, that ridiculous Mario Lombardi…” He trailed off with a humorless chuckle. “A fisherman, of all things. Can you believe that?”
“That’s a bad thing?” asked Harper.
