a keyboardist in Rayne’s band, and Allegra Hanson, a singer.
All three deny involvement in the shooting death of the charismatic singer/songwriter.
She was filing the story when Luke called. “I got us booked in at the firing range,” he told her.
“Oh good.” Harper’s voice held no enthusiasm. She was starting to regret ever buying that gun.
He didn’t seem to notice. “Can you be there at ten tonight?”
She didn’t want to go. But he and Blazer were right—she needed to be ready. And being ready meant doing whatever it took to stay alive.
“I’ll be there,” she told him.
* * *
The police firing range was a dingy warehouse-like building at the edge of downtown, in the industrial area near the river. When Harper pulled in, just before ten, the small parking lot was largely empty. A dark sports car she recognized as Luke’s was parked near the door. The only other vehicle was a pickup truck in a spot designated for staff.
The door was unlocked. Inside, the front lobby was small and scruffy, with scuffed wood-paneled walls and a few battered chairs. The air held the faint, metallic tang of gunpowder and oil. The rudimentary reception desk, with its myriad notices demanding that officers “BE SAFE—BE AWARE” and warning that “GUNS MUST BE SECURED AT ALL TIMES ON THIS PREMISES,” was unmanned.
A single door led from the lobby back into the firing area, and she pushed it open cautiously. The room on the other side was dimly lit.
“Hello?” she called. Her voice echoed back at her.
“Over here, Harper.” Luke’s voice came from a shadowed corner.
The long, narrow room was barely more than a barn with a concrete floor and metal walls. The acrid smell of recent gunfire was much heavier here. She could taste it on her tongue.
Ahead, she could see two men standing in front of a low counter beyond which lay five separate firing lanes. One was Luke, in jeans and a button-down shirt. The other was a burly man with short, dark hair and a graying beard.
As Harper walked up, Luke gestured at him. “Harper McClain, meet Jerry Lester. He’s in charge of things around here.”
“Welcome.” Jerry held out a meaty hand that all but consumed Harper’s. He examined her with piercing eyes. “Trying out a new weapon, I hear?”
“Yes.” Her tone was apologetic. “It’s just a used Glock.”
“Mind if I take a look?”
Setting her bag down on the counter, she wrestled the gun from the depths and held it out to him, with the barrel pointed down.
If Luke noticed she wasn’t wearing the gun as Blazer had dictated, he didn’t show it. He watched as Jerry checked the pistol with the quick movements of an expert, snapping back the bolt to peer inside, listening as it slid into place. He popped the clip out and then slid it back in before staring down the sights at the targets at the far end of the room.
When he was satisfied, he handed it back. “It’s in good shape,” he told her. “Someone took care of it.”
“You’re happy for us to try it out here?” Luke asked.
“Fine with me. Just don’t shoot out the lights.”
“I’ll do my best,” Harper promised.
He gave her an approving look and then glanced at Luke. “Well, I better git. You’re okay to close up?”
“No problem,” Luke said. “I’ll bring the keys back in the morning.”
There was an easiness between the two men that made Harper think they might be old friends.
Jerry held out a scrap of paper with a number scribbled on it. “Here’s the alarm code. Eat it when you’re done.”
“You got it.” Luke folded the paper and tucked it in the pocket of his jeans. “Thanks again for fitting us in.”
Jerry grinned. “What Larry Blazer wants, Larry Blazer gets. I abide by that rule and it has kept me gainfully employed for years now.” He aimed a warm smile at Harper. “Good luck with that weapon, Miss McClain. Just do whatever young Walker here tells you to, and you’ll be perfectly safe.” He turned away and headed for the door, his last words floating back behind him. “Y’all have a good one.”
His footsteps faded until, a few seconds later, the clang of the door closing echoed hollowly.
Harper glanced at Luke, who was gathering ear protectors and goggles from a locker.
“I didn’t realize the place would be closed.”
“Yeah, it was the only way to get it done today. Hold this.” Luke handed her a stack of targets, the shape of a man’s head and torso at