One Night More (23 page)

Harper wasn’t ready to give him up yet.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Galen sped down the freeway toward the Beaverton exit. He would have rather taken her somewhere farther away—say, Alaska or Siberia—but for now the suburb on the outskirts of Portland would have to do.

His temper hadn’t cooled a single degree since they’d left Harper’s condo. Monroe was there with the FBI now, dusting for prints and searching for any scrap of evidence. If the attempt on Harper’s life hadn’t been enough to exonerate her in Davis’s eyes, Galen hoped that the state of her condo would seal the deal. Unless Davis thought Harper had shot at herself and then run home to trash her own place.

The silence pressed down on him, squeezing the air out of his lungs and settling on his shoulders with the weight of a boulder. The only sounds in the car were that of the tires as they rolled along the freeway and the occasional dramatic sigh from Harper. Awesome. Seriously, what did she expect? Over the course of the past few weeks, she’d broken her contract with the Marshals Service by ditching her security detail not once, but twice, almost gotten herself killed, and worst of all, she’d lied to him. She’d been lying to him. Or at the very least keeping things from him, which was still lying in his book. Damn it. Her stubborn independence was going to give him a fucking heart attack.

By the time he made it to the Comfort Inn where Monroe had made reservations, the sun had already sunk below the horizon, the sunset blazing a path across the western sky in a fiery burnt orange. He was exhausted and pissed off, and more goddamned worried than he’d been about anyone in a long time. Which pissed him off even more. Loving Harper wasn’t going to get him anything but a whole hell of a lot of trouble and heartache.

Hold up.
Love?

Nah. Galen didn’t do love. He hooked up. He played the field. He
dated
more or less. He never stuck around long enough to get to that point of knowing someone well enough to want to stick around. But after a few weeks and one amazing afternoon with Harper, it was clear something had changed. He had changed. Harper was funny, sexy, intelligent—he actually enjoyed working her up for an argument—beautiful, strong, focused, and independent. Right about now he found that independence and focus a little exasperating, but he couldn’t deny he admired it. Today, seeing her in danger, the soul-shaking fear he’d felt at the prospect of losing her, had nearly taken him to his knees. Damn it. Harper Allen had irrevocably changed him. And it rattled him to think that maybe love wasn’t such a far-fetched notion.

Galen’s phone interrupted his revelation and he retrieved it from the cubby on the dash. Harper sat in the passenger seat, staring out of her window at the hotel. Apparently, she was through with running off and taking the lead. He swiped his finger across the screen and answered, “Kelly.”

“Hey,” Landon said through the receiver. “Peggy’s getting a bag together for Harper. Some of her clothes, toiletries, and other crap. She’ll bring it over later tonight.”

It might make Harper feel better to know she wouldn’t have to wear the same clothes for weeks on end. “What about coverage? Are we lined up for the next few days?”

“Monroe has it taken care of on our end. FBI should have agents stationed around the hotel, too. Between the two agencies, no one will slip in unnoticed. We’re running background checks on all of the hotel staff now. If we get a hit on any of them, I’ll let you know, but so far, so good.”

Galen wasn’t too worried about the hotel staff. The occasional misdemeanor popped up when they did routine background checks, but for the most part, camping out at a hotel somewhere was pretty standard and they’d used this particular Comfort Inn before on other cases. “Did you find anything at Harper’s condo?”

Landon gave a bitter laugh. “Nada. No prints, no trace evidence as far as we could tell. Davis’s team took fiber and hair samples, but I’m willing to bet they’ll connect to Harper or the handful of our people who’ve been in and out of her place. Whoever trashed her apartment was a professional. Covered his tracks well. But just a heads-up, Davis is suspicious. It’s a no-brainer that whoever broke in was looking for something in Harper’s condo. He thinks she knows what it was they were after.”

For once, Galen and Special Agent Davis were on the same page. “Yeah. Me too.”

“See if you can get it out of her,” Landon said, all playfulness gone from his tone. “Because if Davis finds out she was holding out on him, he’ll charge her with obstruction. He’s under heavy pressure from the White House now. The shooting at the museum was picked up by every national news outlet in the country. Things aren’t going to cool down for Harper.”

No, they were barely heating up. “I’ll see what I can do. Keep me posted, okay?”

“Will do. Later.”

Galen ended the call and turned to Harper. “Let’s get checked in. Deputy Murphy is bringing you a bag with some clothes and toiletries and whatever else she can dig up in a couple of hours.”

Harper gave an emotionless laugh but didn’t turn to face him. “Well, at least I won’t have to use hotel shampoo, right?”

If he thought things were strained between them now, Galen knew it was only going to get worse. Harper was obviously keeping something from him—namely what was on her laptop—and he needed to get to the bottom of her involvement in Senator Ellis’s murder before Davis had a chance to grill her. The FBI agent was itching for an excuse to slap conspiracy or obstruction charges on her, and after the break-in at her apartment, Galen was fairly sure he’d get his chance.

Harper’s silence was unsettling, in that it annoyed Galen to the point of spontaneous combustion. Passive-aggressive wasn’t his favorite tactic. Truth be told, he’d rather have a knock-down, drag-out screaming match with her any day than this quiet, pensive bullshit. He checked in at the front desk and ushered Harper to the stairs that led to the second floor. The location was optimum: it didn’t have ground-floor access, yet it wasn’t high enough to hinder a speedy exit if need be. Logistically speaking, it was the best choice. Monroe had also arranged for the entire second floor to be shut down. The few guests in the rooms were moved and additional deputies would be stationed randomly throughout the floor. Total lockdown.

At Room 205, Galen slid the keycard into the lock and opened the door. A tiny, nondescript room with two queen-sized beds, a small desk, TV, and mini-fridge welcomed them. They hadn’t chosen the location for its posh accommodations, and Galen couldn’t help but notice the slump in Harper’s shoulders as she closed the door behind her and swung the arm lock into place. She’d already been shot at, been the victim of a break-in, and had her ass handed to her about her reckless behavior. Now she was stuck in a tiny hotel room for God only knew how long. Galen figured now was as good a time as any to broach the subject of her involvement in this case. After all, it wasn’t like her mood could get any worse. If she didn’t want to spend any more time here than necessary, she needed to ’fess up. Now.

“Harper, we need to talk about what happened today.”

“There’s nothing more to talk about.”

“Really? Because the bullets you dodged and your trashed apartment say differently.”

Harper sighed. “Probably. But I’m not ready to talk about it yet.” Her expression spoke of exhaustion as her jaw took on a stubborn set. “I’m taking a shower.”

A shower?
After everything that had happened, that was what she wanted to do? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No, I’m not.” If her tone had been any more numb and lifeless, Galen might have been tempted to check her pulse. Maybe the shock was finally setting in. “I’ve got blood all over me. I need a few minutes to myself, okay?”

She headed for the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Galen heard the lock click into place and he slumped down on one of the beds. Harper sure knew how to take stubborn to the next level. Davis wouldn’t have to worry about arresting Harper, because before the night was over, Galen was pretty sure he’d do it himself.

 

 

Locking herself in the bathroom probably wasn’t the most mature response to Galen’s questions, but right now it was her only option. It wasn’t that she needed to put distance between them; more to the point, she couldn’t stand to be apart from him. And that scared the shit out of her. In Galen’s presence, she refused to show any sign of distress, but now that she was alone, her limbs shook to the point that she could barely strip off her shirt, or work the button loose on her jeans. Once she managed to shuck her bloodied clothes, she turned on the shower and let the sound of running water drown out her thoughts. While she waited for the water to get warm, she inspected herself in the mirror, taking stock of the cuts and a couple of lovely bruises on her arm.

She shed her bra and underwear and stepped into the tub. The stream of almost too warm water eased the tightness in her muscles. She breathed in the steam billowing up from the spray and held it deep in her lungs before letting it all rush out in an exhale. Harper was more than ready to come clean with Galen, the FBI, and anyone else who asked. She’d been stupid to think it was a good idea to keep the information Ellis had given her a secret, no matter how cryptic. The need to control her situation down to the very last detail had kept her mouth shut.
Not the smartest move, Harp. You are so damned stubborn. Strike that. You are such an
idiot
.

Harper slid down to the floor of the tub and pulled her knees up to her chest. Water sluiced down her body, the heat easing her stiff muscles. Nothing had been in her control since this whole mess started. She’d fooled herself into believing none of this was a big deal. That she hadn’t inadvertently wound up in a very dangerous, life-threatening situation that went
way
beyond what she could handle. Her hardheadedness had almost gotten her killed today.
Way to fuck up your entire life, Harp
.

Harper washed the day’s blood and grime from her skin, thankful for the minor cuts and bruises because she knew it could have been so much worse. She toweled off and sighed as she realized she had no choice but to put on her same dirty, bloody clothes.

“Did Peggy show up with my bag yet?” Harper called through the door.

“No. She’s got to wrap up with the team at your condo first.” Galen’s response was about as dry and crusty as month-old bread.

With the towel wrapped around her body and tucked under her arm, she emerged from the bathroom to find Galen standing by the window, looking down at the parking lot. When he heard her approach, he turned to face her and folded his arms in front of his chest, his eyes focused squarely on her face. “I think it’s time you told me what’s on your laptop, Harper. You know how I feel about secrets. It’s time to come clean.”

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean? Come clean. I haven’t been lying to you, Galen. I just haven’t had time to fill you in—”

“That’s not true.”

Harper felt the blood rush to her cheeks. A good ten feet of space separated them, but the tension building between them made it seem like they were nose to nose. “You were gone for days because of what happened between you and Agent Davis. After that, everything moved really fast. I haven’t had time to take a deep breath, let alone fill you in on everything that’s going on. You’re so suspicious of people lying to you, you’re not even going to give me a chance to talk to you before you start throwing around accusations? You have no idea what this has been like for me. You don’t understand.”

“Are you kidding me?” Galen’s eyes widened, his jaw slack. “I don’t
understand
?”

She took a deep breath and swallowed down the lump rising in her throat. “Forget it. I need some air.”

Harper turned to leave. So what if she was only wearing a towel? They owned the entire second floor for the time being and there was no way in hell she was staying in this tiny jail cell of a room with Galen Kelly for one more second. Not when he was going to stand there and accuse her of being a liar.

He seized her arm before she could take another step and spun her around to face him. Anger boiled in her stomach and Harper’s chest heaved with her labored breath. The ups and downs of the roller coaster of emotions she’d been riding all day had finally caught up to her and she didn’t know if she wanted to hit Galen or kiss him as his angry gaze locked with hers.

He leaned in until she could feel his breath, warm in her ear. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Great. She was going to make this difficult. Her anger was way better than the broody silent treatment, though. “You don’t get to walk out of here, Harper. You can’t just leave whenever things get difficult. We are talking this out. No changing the subject, no walking out, no using your irrational anger to deflect me. I don’t understand anything? This is my job. My life. I’m in this situation with witnesses exactly like you all the damned time. You’re in the middle of a criminal investigation, Harper. I’m assuming that you’re in possession of evidence that could aid that investigation. The only person making this situation harder than it needs to be is you.”