Chapter 8
Boone
“Well, that was unexpected.” Macey winces as Harlyn dashes from the recording room.
I have to admit her departure was a little hasty, but she has been answering questions about her sister for well over an hour.
I’m not surprised she took her leave quickly.
I make a noncommittal sound, not willing to engage with Macey regarding Harlyn.
As much as I understand why she’s here and agreed to the interview, I wish someone would have convinced her this might not be the right time, especially if her suspicions about her sister’s death are true.
I send a short text to the number she provided and slide my phone into my inner jacket pocket.
“Hey.” Macey lifts her hands as if she might cover her mouth but stops short of touching her face.
“Please don’t feel obligated to reach out to her.
I’m sorry, I should have said something as soon as she asked, but she caught me off guard.
If she contacts the show, we can let her know you aren’t available for a private consult. ”
“It’s good. I’ll handle it.”
“Are you sure? I feel really bad that I didn’t shut her down.” Macey lowers her hands and gives me a little pout instead.
“I’m sure. That was the final interview, correct?”
“There are always more interviews, but that was the last one I could get you to agree to, unless you changed your mind?” She’s way too optimistic about her chances if I can read anything by the cock of her hip and confident smile.
My answering grin is much smaller, but I hope it softens my refusal. “Didn’t change my mind.”
“You never know until you ask.” She lifts one shoulder, seemingly undeterred, when she adds, “If you aren’t in a huge rush, I’d love to get a few comments from you about the Wade case.”
“I’m not sure what else I could add without having more insight into the details.
” She doesn’t need to know I stayed up way too late last night looking over the files her team provided.
Hell, the only reason I even went in so deep is because I’m used to working late into the night, and sleep isn’t my strong suit.
“It would just be a few general questions, nothing even on the record unless you say it’s okay… Maybe over dinner?”
“I actually have plans for dinner already,” I lie. I’m not interested in socializing with Macey, and grabbing a meal together would give her the wrong impression. “I do have a few minutes if you have another question or two.”
Her lips flatten with the rejection, but her voice is still playful when she sends a little jab back at me. “Only one or two? Give me a second to make sure I’m using my time wisely.”
Usually, I would like her direct approach, but I have to confess, by mind is otherwise occupied with Harlyn, and not for the reasons it should be. “That’s all I have time for today, but you have my contact info if you think of anything else.”
“Oh, and here I thought it was only going to be our guests who got the offer to use your services.” That comment took her from teasing and confident to catty in just a few breaths.
“If you aren’t ready now, you can shoot me an email, and I’ll get back to you when I have time.” My reply is a little curt, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her act like I’m a tool for her personal use.
Her reply comes quickly. “I think I have a few more in me. What makes you believe Hayzel had a stalker?”
“I’m not sure I believe she did have a stalker, but Harlyn does, and doubting someone that close to the victim isn’t usually a smart play when you’re trying to solve a murder.”
“Are you trying to solve her murder? I wasn’t aware you even knew of the case before yesterday.” Macey pretends to think when she narrows her eyes and turns her head to the side, but her motive is crystal clear—she’s trying to stake a claim on me and my work, which will never happen.
“I’m not directly working on her case, as you are well aware, but every case deserves to be solved, and if I can help in any way, even if that is just to make sure someone else doesn’t get hurt, then I will, which is exactly why I agreed to do your show, Macey—to help the victims of crimes and their loved ones.
” I typically don’t feel the need to explain myself, but in this case, I’ll make an exception.
“Yes, and we’re lucky to have you.” Her tone softens, proving I’m not the only one good at reading people. She knows she went too far. “We would be more than willing to have you back to discuss any case you’d like in the future.”
“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind. You guys have a pretty far reach.” I give a deserved compliment to bring the conversation back to a more comfortable place for both of us.
“We do,” she agrees. “I’m really pretty proud of the work we’re doing.”
“That’s all we can hope for.” I extend my hand in an offer to shake hers. “I have to admit, it hasn’t been nearly as bad as I imagined.”
Her smile returns as she loosely grips my fingers. “Aw, don’t say you were scared of little ole me?” She lays it on rather thick before releasing my palm.
“Not scared.” I chuckle softly. “Just smart enough to be wary. It was nice meeting you, Macey. I’m sure we will talk again.”
“Anytime, Boone—I mean, Special Agent Landry.” She pretends to slip up, but not very well.
None of the other members of the podcast make an appearance as I make my way out of the building just in time to see a luxury SUV exit the parking lot.
It would only take a few clicks on my keyboard to learn more than anyone should know about Harlyn without getting the details directly from her, and my fingers itch to do just that, but something stops me, and it isn’t just my ethics.
The real reason I’m not digging into her past is because I want an excuse to spend time with her, and not just to help with her sister’s case.
Avoiding any further personal contact between myself and Harlyn Wade would be the smart move, but not the one I’m going to make.
Harlyn
Keeping myself busy for the better part of the day is harder than I imagined, even while using some of the time to look for a job.
I find myself checking my phone repeatedly, and not just because I’m looking for a message from Liv.
Special Agent Landry has been at the forefront of my mind since I left the podcast studio.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve replayed what happened when I first sat down.
I thought I had my anxiety under control, or at least that I was concealing it from them, but clearly, I was wrong.
The fact that he shone his flashlight around the room under the guise of looking for a pen that was in his lap proves that.
I was too grateful to be concerned with how I looked when it happened, but after leaving, I started to wonder what I did that tipped him off that I was wary of the shadowy room.
The fact that he’s a renowned profiler eased my embarrassment a little, but then I started to think about how kind it was of him not to bring it to Macey’s attention and how the gesture was protective, instead of a common courtesy.
I told myself to stop analyzing his motives, especially since I’m doing it to fit my narrative, but it wasn’t easy to dismiss.
It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of anything as protective, and I’m not even surprised by how much I liked it.
I haven’t felt safe since the day I found my sister’s mutilated body, yet for a moment today, I wasn’t worried about who might sneak up behind me.
When my phone vibrates with a text, I nearly trip over my feet in my haste to get to the low table in front of the couch where I left it.
In the brief moment it takes me to get close enough to the screen to see it, I know I’m in trouble when the thought of it being Livy crosses my mind, and disappointment rears its ugly head.
Guilt dampens my mood when I see the text is, in fact, from an unnamed contact in my phone, but it doesn’t last long.
I tell myself I wanted it to be Landry because I think he can help with my sister’s case, even though, deep down, I know that isn’t the only reason. Hell, it isn’t even the biggest reason.
I drop onto the couch at the same time I pick up my phone.
With my thumb over the text bubble, I briefly wonder if I should give it a second before responding, so it doesn’t look like I’ve been sitting here waiting for him, but then I decide he probably already knows how desperate I am to speak with him, considering I told him he could call in the middle of the night.
Unknown: I’ve been looking over Hayzel’s case notes. Is now a good time to talk?
Me: Absolutely.
I leave off the exclamation mark I nearly typed. My phone rings almost immediately, and my heart plummets into my stomach. Ignoring it, I tap the icon to accept and bring the phone up to my ear. If my voice is a little breathy when I say hello, I can easily blame it on nerves.
“Harlyn?” His voice is just as rich over the phone as it is in person. I don’t know why that catches me off guard, or maybe it’s my reaction to it that upends my thoughts.
“Yes, Special Agent Landry?” I reply, then I drop my head in awkwardness. Of course it’s him. When a second or two passes without him acknowledging my greeting, I begin to think maybe I was wrong.
“Yeah,” he finally answers slowly. “Sorry, I was reading something.”
“No problem.” My reply comes easily, but nothing else. I don’t know what to say or how to get the ball rolling.
“Just so we’re on the same page, Macey provided me with the details she had on Hayzel’s case.”
I experience a strange sense of gratitude and annoyance at the mention of Macey, which makes no sense. “Great.” I try to sound upbeat, but it isn’t something I excel at, especially lately.
“I didn’t find any mention of the stalker angle.”
“No, they—”