to work. Meet me for lunch.”
Harper braced herself. “Look,” she said, slowly, “I have to tell you the truth. I don’t think now is the time for the thing we started the other night.”
There was a pause.
“I see.” His tone cooled. “You’ve had second thoughts.”
“I have.” She drew a breath. “Paul, I like you a lot. And I think this is probably a terrible decision. But I honestly don’t see how it would work. We’re too different. Besides, right now, my life is such a mess—”
“You don’t have to make excuses,” he cut her off, crisply. “I understand how this works. I’ve done it enough times myself. You don’t owe me anything. But, the offer on the apartment stands separately from all of that. For your own safety. I can email you the addresses and arrange for you to go on your own.”
He was being so reasonable, but she didn’t miss the hurt underlying his words, and suddenly she felt guilty, and she wanted nothing more than to get off the phone and back to work.
“Thank you for everything,” she said, hurriedly, “but right now I’m fine.”
“McClain, don’t make rash decisions because of what happened between us,” he insisted. “Nothing matters as much as your safety. Anything you need, call me.”
He’d gone back to using her last name and for some reason it stung.
“Paul, I am sorry about this,” she said. “I warned you from the beginning I wasn’t sure I was ready.”
“Don’t worry about me, McClain. I’m a big boy. Just watch yourself out there. Oh, by the way. This dead FBI agent. Does it have anything to do with Martin Dowell?”
Harper hesitated only briefly. But he was Channel Five now. And that’s all he was.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Ask the detectives.”
* * *
It was a long day on no sleep. By nine o’clock, she sat at her desk with her head resting on her hand, watching the rain pour down the windows, thinking about Lee Howard’s lifelong guilt. And how it had cost his life.
In the mist and the dark, the Savannah River was invisible. She could see no farther than the street directly below. The old stone warehouses had faded into ghosts of themselves. Parts of the city were flooded now, but the highway out to Tybee was still clear. The marshes were good that way—a giant sponge, absorbing the rain. If this kept up, though, even the wetlands could be overwhelmed. The island would be cut off.
Everyone at police headquarters had been running their tails off all day dealing with the weather. But she couldn’t go home without knowing the latest about Martin Dowell.
She stood up so suddenly, DJ glanced at her in surprise. “I’m going to police headquarters.” Picking up her scanner, she weighed it in her hand, then handed it to him. “Keep an ear on this.” She grabbed her bag. “I’ll have my phone with me. Call me if you hear anything.”
“Code four in particular,” he said.
She shot him a look. “Learn the other codes, DJ.”
“I have a list,” he called after her, but she was already halfway across the newsroom.
Downstairs, she stood impatiently by the door waiting for the guard to go outside first. He donned a raincoat, then splashed out in grim silence, looking both ways before motioning for her.
Harper ran for the car, keys in her hand. She moved fast but she was soaked by the time she got in. The rain was relentless.
This time, she didn’t call the police to let them know she was on the move. They’d find out soon enough.
Still, as she crawled through the city streets, avoiding the lanes she knew by now were submerged, she watched the rearview mirror intently. Nobody was behind her. The streets were deserted. Even the tourists were staying inside.
She parked in the fire zone close to the sturdy brick police building and dashed through the pouring rain for the door, her boots sloshing through the water, the gun pressing against her ribs.
Dwayne looked up from the front desk as she walked in. “Lord. Look what the cat dragged in,” he called as she dripped across the lobby on the flatted cardboard boxes someone had placed atop the old linoleum flooring to soak up the water.
Harper didn’t smile. “I need a word with Luke Walker or Daltrey,” she said.
Dwayne had known her since she was twelve. He heard the edge to her voice.
“They’re both upstairs. Hang on.” He dialed quickly. “Detective, I’ve got Harper McClain down here.” He listened