AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No. I’m just saying I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to picking the right guy.”
“Jeremy fooled everyone, and correct me if I’m wrong, but you and Christian aren’t even an item yet, and he already felt compelled to tell you about Mickey ears in his closet. Sounds like strong integrity to me.”
Huh. She hadn’t thought of it that way. She needed to go back and talk to him.
Please, Father, my head is swirling. Helpme know what to do, what to say. He’shurting, and I hate it. I beg your guidance anddirection. Please see me through whatever this is. Wherever it’s going. Let it be from Your hand.
FORTY-TWO
“WHO WAS THAT?”Deckard asked, returning to the car after going in the Jiffy Mart to pay for gas and grab a snack.
“Andi,” Harper said.
He handed her the white plastic bag. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I grabbed something salty and something sweet.”
“Ah, thanks.”
“The Ho Hos are mine.” He smiled, and she laughed. “So everything okay back at the ranch?” he asked.
“I think so.”
He arched a brow. “That doesn’t sound convincing.”
“Just a lot to take in.”
“I hear that.” He opened his Ho Hos and pulled back out on the road to Albuquerque.
Harper shifted in the passenger seat to face Deckard better. Since they were going to be working the case together, they didn’t need two cars, so they decided to use hers. But already feeling a bout of sleepiness coming on, she’d asked Deckard if he’d mind driving, and he seemed more than happy to do so.
She was glad he took the back way—down 14 South. She liked it so much better than I-25. It possessed far more character and reminded her of a lazy river, just floating down, easily gliding around the turns. It was lulling.
She riffled through the bag. “Sweet tea?”
“That’s for you,” he said.
“Thanks.” She twisted the top off and took a sip, then set it in the cupholder. “So...” she said, shifting to recline against the locked passenger door so she could face him better—read what she could of his expressions on the dark, winding road, though the almost-full moon overhead added some illumination. Making herself comfortable, she grabbed the autopsy report Greyson had provided and began again. “So where should we start?”
He glanced over, then back at the road. “Start?”
“We’ve got about an hour. I thought we could talk through the case file and autopsy report Greyson dug up.”
He darted a glance over with an arched brow, then focused his attention back on the road. “I thought you were tired.”
“So did I.” She scanned the report. “But I think I got a second wind.”
“Okay.” He chuckled. “Where would you like to start?”
“Well, the autopsy report shows no defensive wounds on the victim. How is that possible, unless we go with my theory of her being hit from behind first?”
“Fair enough assumption.”
“And the depth of the wound to the back of her head shows a strong impact. I’m holding by my theory.”
He glanced over. “We’ll have to see how it plays out, but I’m starting to think it’s not good to bet against you.”
She smiled, then shifted. She needed to ask him ... but how to approach it. She shifted again.
“What’s up, squirmy?”
