beautiful in a way she’d never before seen. And she couldn’t help wondering what he’d done with those hands to cause so many injuries.
A tremor went through her, not born entirely of fear. But she sucked in a surprised breath when he suddenly turned his face to the camera like he’d done before, his eyes seeming to study hers. She felt her face flush as she looked away and then almost laughed at herself. He couldn’t see her. Couldn’t see anyone—he was simply looking up at the blinking eye of a camera. She stepped closer, studying his expression. There was something in his eyes . . . bitterness if she wasn’t mistaken. But . . . why? If he didn’t know what a vehicle was, how in the world would this man know that the flashing red light he could see would enable someone else to watch him? And even if he did, why would it cause that fiery intensity on his face? She tilted her head, studying him intently. He stared back as though he could feel her on the other side of the camera. Silly, of course. She knew that and yet the feeling persisted. His eyes were piercing as he stared at the piece of equipment high up on the wall in the room he occupied, and . . . there was no mistaking the sharp intelligence in his gaze. Caveman maybe. But no brainless Neanderthal.
Thoughts were whizzing through his brain. She could see it. Perplexity. Confusion. Anger. So many emotions.
He looked away, facing forward again—expression suddenly blank—as if he’d heard her thought and refused to accept that she could see what he hid. Or tried to. It didn’t stop her though. She leaned closer. From this angle, she could see a scar arcing down the side of his face under his right cheekbone. It was slight and mostly faded, but it called attention to the sharp lines of his bone structure. And . . . yes, his expression was blank now, but there was a war being waged behind his eyes. She recognized it as someone who had perfected the art of stoicism. Don’t react. Don’t let them see your fear. Don’t let them know you care.
Harper felt a surprising jolt of empathy, but then chastised herself internally. She was creating a narrative about the man based on her own experience, not his. She really knew nothing about him. Although . . . if he was only a “person of interest” as Dwayne had said, was it ethical to keep him sitting in that cell? If all he’d done was have the bad timing of stumbling in front of a police vehicle and they weren’t charging him with anything, he had the right to leave. Would he know it? Had they even told him that?
The door opened, startling her from her voyeurism and the questions running rampant through her mind. She blushed again, turning off the monitor, but not before Dwayne and the older man entering the room had seen what she was doing.
The man who must be the agent extended his hand and Harper took it as Dwayne came to stand next to them.
“Mark Gallagher, this is Harper Ward. Mark, Harper knows why you’re here. Harper is our local wilderness guide, slash psychologist.”
Harper let go of Mark Gallagher’s hand, and gave Dwayne an exasperated look. “The first is true. But Dwayne, I’m not a psychologist, and you know it.” She gave him another stern look, but he didn’t look the least bit contrite. She breathed out a sigh and gave Mark Gallagher a small, embarrassed smile. “I work part-time at a group home.”
“And you’re taking some classes in Missoula, aren’t you?” Dwayne asked.
“I haven’t signed up for those yet,” Harper said, feeling like a complete loser. The accomplishments Dwayne had obviously listed under her name were dwindling by the moment.
Dwayne winked at her. “Well, closest we got. And it’s mostly your knowledge of the area that Mark needs. And that truck you have. Now, I’ve got to make a couple of calls, but you and Mark chat and then you can let him know if you’re available.”
“Okay.”
The sheriff left the room, and Mark Gallagher nodded to the table where they both took a seat across from each other.
The agent took a notebook and a pen from his coat pocket and began flipping through it while Harper took that moment to study him. He was older, probably in his fifties, but he was still fit and