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Then he bolts.
“Oh, son of a—” Rory mutters before breaking out into a run after Harvey. “You head him off at the pass!”
I stare after Rory. “What?”
“Figure it out!” he cries back to me as Harvey rounds the corner and he follows.
Head him off at the pass? What is this, the Battle of Gettysburg? I don’t have more than a few seconds to scratch my head before I figure out Rory’s meaning. We have to get Harvey cornered.
I’m not a runner, not meant for it. I’ve been genetically blessed to keep a slim figure without much work, but my endurance leaves much to be desired.
Luckily, I have a few pounds of steel on wheels just a few feet away to help me out with this one.
I rush to get in my car, my hands shaking as I force the key into the ignition. I zoom out of my parking spot, barely checking for oncoming traffic, and speed down Main Street, turning the corner at the bank.
The pursuit is still on. Harvey is scrappier than he looks, but Rory is gaining. He’s in perfect shape for a task like this.
Doesn’t mean he couldn’t use a little help.
As Harvey approaches the end of the block, I whip my car around the corner and bring it to a screeching halt before he can cross the street.
Harvey trips to a stop, ramming his shoulder up against the passenger door. Poor guy. I didn’t mean for things to get this far.
I put the car in park and leap out to join Rory in looming over Harvey cowering against my car.
“So, you know innocent people don’t run, right?” Rory asks.
“It wasn’t my fault, okay? Wasn’t my idea,” Harvey says, holding up his hands, trying to catch his breath.
My adrenaline is still pumping. I’m chomping at the bit to get to the bottom of this as fast as possible. “Who did, Harvey?”
“I don’t know!”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” I press harder.
Rory grabs my arm. His touch isn’t forceful or rough. Just enough pressure to bring me back to earth. Enough of a touch to remind me of that handshake last night and how it made my nerves sing.
I glance back at him. He gives me a small smile. How do I it means,Let me handle it?
I take a step back and zip my lips together. Don’t want to mess this up for all of us.
“Listen, Harvey, I’m not saying I can get you off totally scot-free, but if you cooperate and give us the details, there’ll be a lot less consequences for you, okay?”
Harvey’s eyes dart between the two of us. “You promise?”
I swallow. “I won’t press charges. For the bones. If you took them.”
The corners of Harvey’s mouth droop down. He winces away from us with a self-pitying moan. “I’m so sorry, Constance. I promise, I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for the money.”
“What money?” Rory asks. “Give us the whole story. Don’t spare any details.”
Harvey takes a deep breath, then begins: “I received a note in my mailbox. Not a letter. A note. No stamp, no envelope. It told me if I followed their instructions, I’d receive a reward for doing what they said.”
“Whose instructions?” Rory pushes.
“Dunno. No name. No calling card. That’s the only way they communicated with me.”
“How’d you know they were good for it?”
