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“Great.” Heath flashed a smile that charmed the waitress as her tense posture visibly relaxed. She even flicked the bangs on her blonde fringe, ready to impress.
“I need you to look at this video and tell me what you remember of the woman you served. She came in last Wednesday.”
Adam replayed the video, showing Becky talking to the woman—Seth refused to call her Harper—after delivering what looked like a large cookie and a coffee.
“That’s from inside the café.” Becky switched her gaze from the video to Heath. “How did the police get that tape?”
Heath’s voice firmed with authority. “Becky, do you recognize this woman?”
She blinked under the detective’s stronger tone. “Sure, I remember her. She gave me a big tip. Said she worked in a café and knew how hard a gig waitressing was.”
That chill covering Seth’s skin now sank down into his bones.
Unaware of the power of her words, Becky warmed to her role as witness and waved a pointed finger at the guys. “In fact, she was funny, in a good way. When I delivered her giant cookie, she said she was dating some Aussie and the guy had never had cookies and milk before. He told her they call cookies biscuits in Australia. How strange is that?” Becky’s giggle ended abruptly as the impact of Heath’s accent made a connection. “But, um, you’re an Aussie. Are you him?”
Seth froze. His heart seemed to stop, before starting again, this time beating so much faster against his ribs.
“No, just asking for a friend.” Heath stood, signaling the interview was over. “You’ve been a great help, thanks.”
The waitress nodded. After a long, assessing look at Heath, she resumed wiping the tables.
Seth rose. He needed air. Needed to get out of this café with the smell of roasted coffee that reminded him of another place, one where he’d felt welcome and even adored by its owner. With quick strides he made it out to the parking lot.
He told her they call cookies biscuits.
“The stuff about the cookie. That was you, wasn’t it?” Heath’s voice was laced with regret.
Seth nodded. He felt his brothers get closer, but all he saw was her on the video talking to Becky.
He moved toward Adam’s black SUV. Not ready to get in the car, but not wanting to stand still, either. To his right, he saw a discarded door leaning against a dumpster parked beside the cafe. He didn’t think. Just moved. Then his fist slammed into the wood. Pain shot through his hand as he studied his bloodied, throbbing knuckles.
Fuck, yeah. Physical pain was real. It never lied. Never had a hidden agenda.
His chest heaved with each drawn breath through his nose. As he flexed his hand, images in his mind mixed with the burning injury. Harper showing him how to dunk a cookie in a glass of milk; her face so intent, as she’d talked about the importance of whether to dunk it in milk first or eat the cookie dry. He’d thought her seriousness so endearing.
And it was all a lie?
“But what if the bastards controlling her father blackmailed her into taking part?” Seth asked.
That made sense. If the Russian Mafia were tied up with Fox anything was possible.
“Then we examine the evidence.” Adam gripped his shoulder. “But we do this smart.”
“I sat in there and heard what that girl said, and I still can’t fucking believe Harper lied to me.” Was he simply pathetic or could Harper be innocent?
“Seth, Adam’s right. You can’t confront her tonight. We’ll get Dillon and talk this out. Tomorrow we see what Harper has to say.”
Dillon… “The sale,” Seth started to rub his hand through his hair and winced, dropping it by his side. “If it is Fox, that changes everything.”
“No, all that’s changed is we now know who made the latest posts.” Adam held his laptop in one hand, his other resting on his hip. “There’s no proof yet Fox and Harper were responsible for the first round.” He waved his hand at Seth’s derisive snort. “I agree, it’s likely, but so far, the only one implicated is Harper.”
Fox stayed clean while Harper took the rap. What a prince of a father.
But surely Seth couldn’t go on as if nothing had happened. “You want me to continue with the sale?”
“I want you to stay focused. We don’t know Fox’s motivation yet. Simply saving a few million on the purchase price of Shazad seems trivial to a man who runs a multibillion dollar company. Plus, there’s the DHS and Tollison and Fox’s criminal network.” Adam sighed. “Let’s give ourselves a few hours to refine our plans. Call Dillon. We’ll meet at Heath’s.”
“Fine.” Seth walked to Adam’s SUV while pulling his phone out of his back pocket. As he tapped the contact listing for Dillon’s number, he couldn’t banish the picture of Harper’s face from his mind. He’d been so sure, so convinced her open, loving nature and sassiness were genuine.
