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Seth felt his eyebrows rise. He and Heath exchanged a look.
“Don’t ask how.” The oldest Aussie turned his laptop to face Seth and Heath. “This recording is from Thursday night, the evening of the posts.” A color video started playing on the screen showing the parking lot next to the café. A blue Prius drove into the lot. Something about the vehicle looked familiar.
“That’s Harper’s car,” Adam said in a flat tone. “The camera caught the license plate and I checked the vehicle’s registration.”
Seth stared at the screen. What the hell was Harper’s car doing at the café the same time the posts were made?
Adam enlarged the view to full screen mode. “Wasn’t this the night you were supposed to spend the evening with her, but she told you she was unwell?”
Seth looked at Adam seconds before a movement on the screen caught his attention. A woman, dressed in a hoodie and jeans, exited the vehicle. Big black sunglasses masked a fair portion of her features as she passed under the camera and into the café.
“And my guess is that’s Harper.” Adam switched to another video, this one showing inside the café. “She keeps her head down, like she’s aware of the cameras.”
Seth replayed the phone call with Harper in his head. I’ve got a tummy bug. Just a twenty-four-hour thing, I’m sure. He’d worried about her. Wanted to come around and check she was okay, but she’d convinced him she needed a good night’s sleep.
Seth ignored the knot forming in his gut. “There’s no proof that’s Harper. Her car, yes, but I can’t fully see her face.”
“Right body shape and height.” Heath sat forward in his seat, resting an arm on the table. “Can you get a better angle?” he asked Adam.
“No. She keeps her chin lowered, making a clear image of her face impossible, even when ordering. Look, she collects her drink and sits at a table near the front with her back to the camera.”
Seth watched as the woman typed on her laptop. A waitress delivered a sandwich to her table and chatted for a moment. Once alone again, she recommenced typing.
But still… This couldn’t be right. Harper sending an email tipping off I.A. about Heath’s bank account and a story discrediting Dillon to a blog? She liked Dillon. Liked all his brothers. Supposedly had deep feelings for Seth, for fuck’s sake.
A chill spread over his skin, starting on his back and reaching outwards.
“A close resemblance isn’t proof.” Seth glanced at his brothers. No way. There had to be an explanation. “Have you both forgotten some fucker broke into her apartment ten days ago?” His raised voice drew stares from nearby customers. He sighed. “I can’t see the logic.”
“But she wasn’t attacked by the intruder, Seth,” Heath reasoned in a cautious tone. “Only Nitro was hurt, and not seriously.”
Seth flexed his jaw. “You think she hired someone to break in?”
“Not her.” Adam interjected. “Her father.”
Stanton Fox was capable of just about anything, but Harper? “I’m going to need more proof than a video of her car and a woman wearing a hoodie and glasses.” Even voicing his brother’s suspicions seemed disloyal to Harper, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
“As you should.” Adam clicked on his keyboard. “I examined the tapes of this coffee shop for the week following her last visit.” A new video played. This one showed daylight through the café’s front windows. “This video’s from the Wednesday afternoon following the break-in at her apartment, which is a week in between her previous visit and today. The woman is wearing the sunglasses again, but no hoodie.”
Seth’s gut churned, the knot in his muscles now pulled tight. He recognized the woman’s peasant-styled top and necklace as she stood at the counter. They were the same ones Harper had worn the day after their first night together. The day of the first cyberattacks on him and his family. The day of the first attack on her.
He heard Adam speak, but his concentration was locked on the screen, watching as the woman took a seat at the same table as her last visit. Her long hair, roughly the same shade as Harper’s in the low lighting, was knotted on top of her head. Just how Harper often styled hers.
“Wednesday.” Harper should be at work. “Why would she be here instead of at Seven Dishes?”
“Good question.”
Heath’s words were a bucket of cold water to Seth’s face. Christ, he’d already slipped into voicing his doubts of Harper.
Adam glanced at Heath. “This is where your badge comes into play.” He nodded toward a waitress wiping a nearby table. “That’s the one who served her Wednesday. We need to ask questions.”
Heath studied Seth before speaking in a tone that brooked no compromise. “You ready to let me do my job without interrupting? No matter what you hear?”
Seth’s chest tightened. Whether it was resentment or dread he wasn’t sure, but he gave a nod and remained silent.
Heath pulled his badge from his belt and signaled the waitress, who came over. Her eyes widened upon seeing his detective’s shield. “I’m Detective Justice from Seattle PD.” He glanced at her nametag pinned to her brown shirt. “Becky, we’re following up on an enquiry and need your help.”
“Okay.” The young woman, likely no older than twenty, glanced over her shoulder to the counter where her co-workers were busy making coffee and ringing up purchases and then back to Heath.
