“I had a talk with him after I found out Dowell got out of prison. I hinted that he might have had something to do with your mother’s murder. At the time, he said he’d need more proof before he could do anything. But if your father’s basically admitted he’s always known it was Dowell…”
Harper swallowed hard. “You think he’s really coming for me.”
His face had taken on the look it got when things were going badly wrong—his brow creasing, his dark eyes focused on some undefined point in the distance.
“I think it’s possible,” he said, starting the car. “And if he is, we’re going to need help.”
* * *
Lieutenant Blazer listened in silence as Harper and Luke filled him in.
When they finished, he fixed Harper with an icy look. “We should contact the Connecticut State Police right now and request a warrant for your father’s arrest—you know that, right?”
“I know.” Her voice was measured. “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that. He’s not the one trying to kill me.”
The three of them were alone in Blazer’s office. Harper and Luke sat in the chairs facing the lieutenant’s desk as Blazer turned his attention to Luke. “You say you were undercover with what’s left of Dowell’s group?”
Luke nodded.
“You still got contacts there?”
“It’s been nearly three years,” Luke said. “Two of the guys I worked with are still in prison. There’s one, though.” He rubbed his jaw, thinking. “I’ll make some calls.”
“Do that,” Blazer ordered. “See if you can get anyone to tell you where Dowell is. I’ll reach out to some contacts in the Atlanta office. Let them know what we’re dealing with here.”
He turned his glacial eyes on Harper. “No one from Martin Dowell’s group has contacted you directly? You’ve received no threats?”
“None,” she said. “Just this guy, whoever he is.”
“We need to find out who your anonymous advisor is,” he decided. “I’ve had just about enough of playing hide-and-seek with him.”
“I’ve always wondered if he was a cop,” Harper said. “Ex-cop, maybe.”
“Same here.” Luke looked at Blazer. “His methods remind me of the feds.”
Blazer didn’t disagree. “The FBI might have an idea who he is, given Dowell’s been on their books for so long. Either way, we’ve got to put an end to this situation. I don’t like having this on my beat.” He pointed at Harper. “You need to be careful. How are you protecting yourself?”
“She’s bought a gun,” Luke said before Harper could reply.
Blazer didn’t look surprised. “Is it on you?” he asked Harper.
She nodded. “I just got it today.”
He held out his hand. “Let me see it.”
Reaching into her bag, Harper retrieved the Glock. Turning it so the barrel pointed down, she held it out to him gingerly.
He took it, angling his body away from them as he pulled back the bolt and peered into the chamber. “Where’d you get it?”
“Pawnshop on Liberty.”
He nodded as if this was what he’d expected. “You got a clip?”
Harper fumbled in her bag for the metal bullet clip, nearly dropping it as she handed it over.
He snapped it into place, and pulled the bolt, peering inside. Then he flipped the gun over and held it out to her. “Keep it locked and loaded from now on,” the lieutenant ordered. “If you’re going to have one keep it close.” He gestured at her bag with disapproval. “Purses are a terrible place for a gun. By the time you dig it out of there you’re dead.”
Harper reached inside and pulled out the mesh strap. “I got this shoulder holster,” she said.
“Use it.” Assuming the lesson was over, Harper went to tuck the gun back in her bag.
Blazer gave her a withering look. “Use it now, McClain.”
“Oh.” Harper studied the holster doubtfully. There were no instructions.
The two men watched as she took off her jacket, and stuck her arms through the straps.
“That’s backwards,” Luke told her quietly.
Harper’s face flamed. She shrugged the holster off without a word and flipped it over, shoved her arms back through the straps, and snapped it together across her chest. It felt uncomfortable under her arm, but she set her jaw and picked up the gun, carefully inserting it into the holder.
Blazer watched all of this impassively. “How’s it feel?”
She glared at him. “Like I’ve got an explosive rock under my arm.”
“You do.” He didn’t look happy. “And you need to practice with it. Practice pulling it out. Practice shooting.” He turned to Luke. “Talk to