Page 27 of Three Steps Behind

“I’m out and not going back. And, for your information, since Dalton and I got serious, I’ve been on the straight and narrow.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“And when you do, you can apologize.”

“Not sure I see that day happening.”

“You’d be amazed what a day can bring.”

“Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

“Always assuming the worst . . .” Though she shouldn’t chide him. She always assumed the worst too. Never trust anyone. But she had come to trust Dalton. And that trust couldn’t be shaken by Special Agent Marshall’s assertions. He was wrong, and she was about to prove it.

Thirteen

AFTER ANOTHER NIGHT of no sleep and a whole heap of coffee, Harper led the way up the stone walkway to a large brick home with an oversized lion knocker on the arched brown door, trying to forget last night’s intruder. They still hadn’t determined how he got in or why he was there, other than to elicit fear on behalf of Big Max, and if that was only the beginning, she feared what was to come. But she had to put that aside and focus on Nick and her sweet friend Taylor, who wouldn’t be part of her life anymore. She exhaled. “Here goes nothing.”

“Right here with you,” Deckard said. “I’ve got your back. It’s going to be okay.”

“She’s gone. It’s not going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I just meant I’m here for you.”

“I’m sorry too,” she said. “I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I just can’t believe Taylor’s gone.”

He reached out, slow and gentle, to take her hand, and she let him, thankful her body didn’t flinch. His skin was soft and warm against her palm, his fingers slipping between hers, his hold solid yet tender. “I’ll be with you through it all,” he whispered.

Through it all? As in through everything? Could Deckard commit to something like that? Something that could take weeks or months or even years to overcome? Trauma affected people differently. How she’d respond when the initial fear and disbelief wore off remained to be seen. Would he stay by her side, no matter how long and deep it went?

The door opened, and Nick stood on the other side, his brown hair tousled in that decades-old style he still thought looked cool. “Harper, I didn’t know you were back. I’m guessing you heard about Taylor?”

She nodded, tears smarting in her eyes. “This is my friend, Deckard.”

“Deckard.” Nick nodded. “Please come in.” He opened the door wider and stepped back to allow them passage. “Why don’t we head into the living room?” He led the way.

“Nice place,” Deck said under his breath.

It was indeed. With her trust fund, which Taylor had inherited upon her parents’ unfortunate deaths in a car accident, she’d had deep pockets.

The foyer opened up into a large, nearly all-white living space. No kids, but Taylor said they’d been trying. Which made her fear of Nick cheating all the more painful.

“Please, sit.” Nick gestured to the leather sectional.

“Thank you,” Deck said, taking a seat next to Harper while Nick took a seat in the matching armchair across from the gold-and-glass coffee table. “My condolences,” Deck added, his deep voice resonating in her chest.

“Thank you. It’s all come as a terrible shock.” Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. Was he staving off tears?

She studied him once his hand was lowered and found his eyes red rimmed. Maybe she was off base questioning him with the possibility of foul play, but something was tugging at her gut, and her gut was right ninety-plus percent of the time.

Harper hunched forward, releasing Deck’s hand. His warmth left her, and a chill crackled through her body. She swallowed, keeping her focus on Nick. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Nick sniffed. “I’m sorry?”

“I just can’t believe she’s gone. It was a total shock. I heard you were with her in her final moments.”

“Yeah.” He sniffed again and rubbed his eyes. “She died right in my arms.”

“I’m so sorry,” Deck said. “That had to be excruciating.”