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“What do you think?” she said, her hand on the door handle. “Is it possible?”
“That Mitch drove there and back? It’s possible.” He exhaled. “But we really should focus on Andi’s situation—work the facts to figure out whether or not she was set up. That’s the job.”
“Job? That sounds so...”
“Sorry.” He shrugged. “It’s easy to get pulled in too deep. I’ve found I need to keep a level of distance between me and the case. That’s why I worry about you working it. It’s hard to remain neutral when a person cares so much.”
She climbed out, and he did the same, grabbing his backpack from the backseat.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said, leading him up the shale stone pathway around to the front door, which sat on what looked like the side of her house. “But I’m good.” She held out her hand, and he dropped the keys into her palm. “Thanks for driving.”
“No worries. But seriously, what if the investigation proves Andi botched the job?” He wasn’t trying to be harsh. He just wanted her to be prepared if it came out that way.
“We won’t find that because she didn’t,” she said, continuing before he could get another word in. “Now, back to Mitch.” She unlocked the door and shoved it open with a push of her shoulder. “It sticks,” she said with a shrug.
He stepped in after her. “You really should leave at least one interior light on while you’re away. It’s not safe to come home to a dark house.” He looked around, the front door still open behind him. “Especially being so far out here.”
“You’re probably right. Andi gets on me all the time.”
“You two are close.”
“Very,” she said. “She’s my bestie.”
He smiled at the term. Riley had a few friends, but none she’d label as a bestie. She, like her brothers, kept her emotional distance, never relying on anyone outside of one another.
Harper flipped on a light. “Grab the door, would you?”
“Sure.” He shut it behind them, locked it, and put the chain in place. He turned to find her standing there, hands on her hips.
“Look,” she said, “we’re coming at this case from opposing perspectives, so for now I say we agree to disagree.”
“Sounds fair.”
“But just for the record, I believe the two cases are intertwined—Mitch and Andi’s. Intertwined so deeply that if we only pull one thread, we’ll miss the full picture.”
FORTY-FOUR
ANDI PADDEDin bare feet toward the bedroom door. She’d waited so long to make a decision, to know it was the right thing to do, she feared Christian was already crashed out on the couch, but she had to see, had to try, or she’d never sleep.
She eased the door open, having heard him enter the house a while ago. A small light was on in the front room, but he could have fallen asleep with it on. She tiptoed out and peeked around the corner but found the couch empty.
Huh.Her shoulders dropped. She looked toward the dark kitchen and back to the bathroom with the open door.
Had he slipped back out to the firepit?
She wrapped her arms around her waist and stepped out back. The chill of night dipped low, and she wished she’d grabbed a jacket or a blanket, but he caught sight of her, and she wasn’t turning back.
“Hey,” he said, straightening on the sofa, one arm draped across the back of it.
She took a seat beside him.
“Here,” he said, offering her the throw blanket he had across his lap.
“Oh, I don’t want to—” Before she could fully protest, he’d draped it across her shoulders. “Thanks,” she said, “but won’t you be cold?”
“Nah, the fire is still pretty hot.”
She bit her bottom lip. “We could share.”
