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“I don’t know about you,” she said, “but my head is spinning. I’m running all the conversations over and over. I feel like I’m missing something.”
“I feel the same. Any of the people we talked to today could either be involved in setting Andi up directly or they simply looked the other way.”
“Either way, they’re despicable,” she said with a deep exhale.
“Agreed.” He feared he fell into the latter category. He hadn’t looked the other way in the same sense, but he had sent her away when she came to him for help.
“You okay?” Harper asked, tucking her feet under her.
“Yeah.” He raked a hand through his hair.
“I’m not buying it.”
He chuckled. “No one could accuse you of being timid.”
“Nope. I’ve never seen the point of tiptoeing around something. So what’s up? Something is clearly bothering you.”
He’d ask why she thought that, but in the end it didn’t matter. She was right. He raked his hand through his hair again, then exhaled. He wasn’t one for sharing, but something about Harper Grace weakened his defenses. “I should have listened to Andi when she came to me. If I had, she wouldn’t have had to go through all she did, and I might have caught the killer.”
“You worked for Mitch. It would have been a conflict of interest, but yes, it probably would have been wise to at least listen.”
“You don’t sugarcoat things, do you.” While her response didn’t make him feel better, he admired her honesty.
“Nope. I’ve learned honest and upfront works the best. It takes all the minutiae out of things.”
He chuckled. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“I don’t think we’re too dissimilar in that regard,” she said, then stretched her neck and winced.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She rubbed her neck and winced again. “Just a knot.”
“Here,” he said, standing and moving to sit beside her. “Let me give it a try.”
She blinked.
“I’ve got good hands.”
She chuckled. “That didn’t sound at all like a line.”
“I know, but ask Riley. She gets all knotted up barrel racing, and these,” he said, waggling his hands, “get the kinks out.” He dipped his chin. “Trust me.”
“Okay.” She scooted her back up against him and slipped her hair over her shoulder.
He cracked his knuckles, and she cringed. “That sounded awful.”
“All good.” He cupped the back of his right hand on her neck, feeling around for the knot.
“Ouch.”
“Sorry. Had to find it. I’m just going to put a little pressure on it to start.”
“Okay.”
He rubbed and gently applied pressure. Then with soothing brushes of his hand, he massaged it. Kneading with a bit more pressure, the knot started to ease beneath his fingers. “Better?” he asked.
“Much. Thank you.”
