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“I’ve been doing deep-breathing techniques but will try harder.” She liked Faye Finnegan. “Thanks for reassuring me.”
“The OB should be down shortly.” Faye smiled again, then moved to the door. “Take care, Harper.”
“Thanks, you too.” Harper expected Steele to come in, but he didn’t. Maybe he’d decided to grab some coffee. Spying the phone on the bedside table, she reached over and drew it closer.
Without giving herself time to think, she lifted the receiver and punched in Trent Gibson’s number. This time, he answered after three rings. “Gibson and Roberts.”
“Trent, it’s Harper.” Now that she had him on the line, she wasn’t sure how much to tell him. She decided to start with the topic foremost on her mind. “Trent, I’m in the hospital. I’ve been having some abdominal cramping. The doctor seems to think I’ll be fine, but I just wanted you to know.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Genuine concern laced his tone. “What can I do?”
“Nothing, really, except I don’t think I’ll be able to work from home for a little while.” She was deliberately vague about the timing. “I’m really sorry about that, I know I’m burning vacation time I can’t afford to lose.”
“You just take care of yourself,” he said firmly. “You’ll get six weeks paid sick leave regardless. Whatever vacation time you’ve accrued can be tacked on to extend your leave. And if you need an additional day or two to work from home, that can be arranged too.”
“Really?” Relief washed over her. “I appreciate that so much, Trent. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Take care, Harper.” He didn’t linger but ended the call. As she replaced the phone, she let out a sigh.
Trent wasn’t involved in this. She refused to believe he would risk her life or that of her baby.
Steele and Brock and the others were on the wrong track. And maybe she needed to stay out of it. Getting wrapped up in the case to the point of insisting on meeting with Jake had not been good for her or the baby.
From this point onward, she was going to stay focused on her own health and well-being.
Not the case.
* * *
Steele had overheardHarper’s side of the phone call with her boss. At first, he was upset about her using the hospital phone to call him, then he realized it was probably safer for her in the long run.
And he’d felt bad when she’d voiced her concern over her maternity leave. Obviously, stress wasn’t good for her. Yet she’d been worrying about her time off and keeping her job.
The way they’d been investigating Neil Otterson likely hadn’t helped. And he had to take responsibility for that. Somehow, the line between his being a cop and Harper a victim had gotten blurred.
To the point he’d been sharing too much information with her.
No more, he silently lectured himself.
He knew they were still waiting for the OB doctor to examine her. He peeked in on Harper to find her lying still with her eyes closed. Deciding to let her rest, he joined Brock in the waiting room.
“She okay?” Brock asked. Despite his original distrust of Harper, Brock seemed to have come around to believing her.
“Yeah, but we need to find a way to limit her stress.”
Brock arched a brow. “No easy task.”
“Tell me about it.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “What have you been doing while waiting?”
“I’ve been texting with Rhy, they have a lead on the case. And it may intersect with our case.”
He straightened, his heart thumping with anticipation. “What lead?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but that gun Otterson used to shoot the two young men who allegedly tried to rob him matches the slug found in the dead federal agent.”
“No way,” Steele protested. “That should have been enough to arrest him on federal charges.”
“Yep. Apparently, Otterson had given the cops a receipt for the gun purchase, claiming he didn’t have the gun two years ago and that someone else must have used it to commit the crime, but they aren’t buying it. Not when they have a definitive match.”
