said. “I know it.”
“Great. Let’s meet there at, say, one thirty. I’ll explain everything when I see you.” He paused before adding, “It’s good to talk to you, McClain. It’s been too long.”
The phone went dead. Harper stayed where she was, thinking.
The two of them had worked well together—too well, some might say. He was driven: a talented editor with an eye for detail. On the last story they’d done together—a complicated murder involving the district attorney’s son—they’d taken a lot of chances. He’d pushed her hard, and she’d responded in kind.
It had been a good partnership, and she’d been sorry to see him go.
The kiss had been a fluke—she was certain of that. Ever since, she’d nurtured the faint hope that maybe he’d been too drunk that night to remember it.
I wonder if he’s still single. The thought came to her, unbidden. As quickly as it arrived, she batted it away. She wouldn’t have even thought it, she told herself, if she hadn’t seen Luke the previous night. And if he didn’t have a girlfriend.
Besides, it didn’t matter whether Dells was single. She wasn’t his type. The women he’d brought to the office Christmas parties were always tall, thin, and rich. She didn’t match that description.
Turning her wrist, she glanced at her watch and swore under her breath. It was twenty to five. She’d have to run if she was going to make the press conference.
* * *
Harper counted nine TV vans in the overflow parking lot as she got out of the Camaro and sprinted through the door of the police headquarters.
From the front desk, Dwayne Josephs gave her an amused look. “I was wondering when you’d get here,” he said. “Got half the reporters in Atlanta here today. Got to have Harper McClain, too.”
“Has it started?” she asked, breathless.
“No, they’re running late as usual. Should be any second now, though.” He pointed to the security door, reaching for the button that would release the lock as she ran across the linoleum floor. “Meeting Room Four,” he called after her.
She raced down the hallway, only slowing when she heard the rumble of the crowd and saw a technician struggling to get a tripod through a door. She followed him into the crowded room. She stood at the edge looking for familiar faces. Josh Leonard and Natalie Swanson were in the front row. Miles stood a few feet away, his Canon in one hand.
She waved to get his attention, and he sidestepped over. “Right on time,” he teased.
“Any rumors about what’s happening?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No one’s talking.”
Someone waved and she turned to see Jon Graff sitting across the room, watching her with an oily smile. Her lip curled.
A door across the room opened. Blazer walked in first, followed by the deputy chief, then Julie Daltrey and Luke. The lieutenant strode to the microphones. The others arrayed themselves around him. Harper pulled her notepad from her pocket and flipped to a clean page.
“Thank you all for coming today for an update on the investigation into the death of Xavier Rayne.” Blazer looked across the room with cold blue eyes. “As most of you know, the body was recovered yesterday evening by a fishing boat, a few miles offshore. It was taken directly to the Chatham County coroner’s office. An autopsy is now complete and the initial findings have been made available to us.”
Miles crouched in front of him, getting a shot.
Blazer kept his eyes on the back of the room, showing off his sharp jawline at its best angle. “The coroner’s investigation found no water in the victim’s lungs, indicating that Mr. Rayne died from gunshots or loss of blood before being placed in the ocean.”
The crowd murmured.
“The coroner’s early estimates are that Mr. Rayne died at some point between midnight and five A.M. on the night he disappeared.” He looked straight into the camera for Channel 5 News, which was the closest to him. “At this time, we’re appealing to the residents of Tybee Island. If you saw or heard anything on the night in question, please contact the Savannah police or the Tybee Island police immediately. We know there were reports of gunshots that night. Anything you saw or heard could be helpful in catching the killers and bringing them to justice.” He shifted his gaze to the audience. “I’ll take your questions now.”
All the reporters raised their hands at once.
Blazer pointed at Josh Leonard from Channel 5.
Josh held a gray fabric-covered microphone in his