Chapter 15
So much for sleep. Harley stared in her bathroom mirror. She looked like she’d been on a stakeout for a week. Instead, she’d spent the night staring at the dark window at the old Bowie house—Jericho’s former bedroom—replaying the terrible things she’d said to him. And he’d said to her.
“I can’t watch this. I can’t do this.”
“You’re not supposed to protect me!”
The memory of his face when she’d flung those words at him made her stomach clench. The way the emotion had drained from his eyes, leaving them winter cold.
“You’re right. You don’t need me.”
She splashed cold water on her face, but it didn’t wash away the hollows under her eyes or the ache in her chest.
Fine. Maybe it was time to admit defeat. Go back to Juneau where things made sense. Where she didn’t have to deal with dead bodies or drug runners or men who looked at her like she was still seventeen and breaking their heart.
The coffee maker gurgled, the rich scent pulling her from the bathroom. She’d inherited her dad’s inability to function without caffeine. One of many things she’d inherited, along with his stubborn determination to chase down the truth no matter the cost.
Look where that had gotten him.
Because in her gut she knew—just knew—that Gabe was right. The Sorros family had done something to sabotage the plane. Had killed her parents . . . and Jericho’s.
Which meant that Jericho’s dad hadn’t been to blame for the accident. So there might be an apology there—not that she’d truly held it against him, but it was there, wasn’t it?
She was pouring her first cup when someone pounded on the front door. The sound echoed through the quiet house, making her jump. Coffee splashed across the counter.
“Harley Tatum, open up!” Echo’s voice carried through the door. “I know you’re in there. Your Jeep’s outside.”
Maybe she should pretend . . . Aw, Echo would just keep knocking. And if she knew Echo, she probably had Winter with her as backup.
Sure enough, when Harley opened the door, both women stood on the porch, their breath fogging in the morning air.
“You’re not answering your phone.” Echo came in and shucked off her coat, her pregnancy-rounded belly preceding her.
“I heard about Pete Barrow from Dodge, who heard it on his scanner yesterday.” She pulled off her boots.
“So he called Deke, who told him how you found the body. At my OB appointment this morning, I saw Kennedy, and I asked about you and Jericho, because Dodge also mentioned you two worked together to find the Bowmans—and Kennedy said that you never came back to the resort yesterday. I didn’t realize you were even staying there, so I’m going to need details, but I called Winter—is that coffee?
Do you have decaf?” She slid onto a stool.
“Oh, I am not going to make it three more months.”
“Don’t give her coffee. She’s already too hard to handle.” Winter had come in behind Echo and shut the door behind them. She pulled Harley into a hug.
“Does everyone in this town know everything?” Harley let her go, then grabbed paper towels to clean up the spilled coffee. “And yes, I think there’s some instant decaf in here.”
“Of course everyone knows,” Echo said, as Winter grabbed a mug from the cabinet. “You finding a dead body rates as big talk.”
Winter poured herself a mug.
Harley filled the copper kettle with water.
“Especially when it’s followed by a showdown with Jericho.” Winter settled onto a stool beside Echo. “You okay?”
Harley turned on the flame under the kettle. “Yeah. Of course. It was . . .” She sighed, faced them. “It’s the same old fight as before. I’m trouble. He can’t watch.”
“Aw, Harls,” Echo started, “you’re not . . .”
“Yes, she is,” Winter said. “But that doesn’t mean he has to run away. Sheesh. She can take care of herself.” Spoken like a bush pilot.
Harley lifted a shoulder. “He made his position clear.”
“Did he?” Echo said softly. “Because from what I heard, he was pretty shaken when he came home.”
Harley frowned at Echo.
She shrugged. “Kennedy. He said he was being a jerk.”
Huh. “Maybe we both were. It’s just that . . . I don’t need him to protect me.”
“Right,” Winter said. “Because you’re doing such a great job on your own, Miss I Got Shot Less Than a Week Ago.”
Right. Her ribs still ached, so . . . still. “I don’t know. He makes me crazy.”
“My guess is that he’d say the same about you,” Echo said softly. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. Take it from a girl who drove the man she loved away for a decade. You two can figure this out.”
“I don’t know. I built a life in Juneau. I’m needed there. And Mars is in the wind.” She took a deep breath. “Maybe I let Deke handle it.”
“So you’re running away?” Echo’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m not . . .” The denial died in her throat. “Okay, maybe.”
“Listen, men are wired to protect.” Echo rubbed her belly. “You should see how anxious Dodge gets when I take my dogs out. Or even when I leave the house in bad weather. But you know what’s worse for them than not being able to protect us?”
“What?”
“Being helpless. Having to watch someone they love get hurt.”
“Maybe he’s not in love with me.” Harley dropped into a chair, wrapping her hands around her coffee mug. The warmth didn’t reach the cold inside her. “You didn’t hear him yesterday.”
“Oh please.” Winter rolled her eyes. “The man’s been in love with you since you were toddlers. The entire town knows it.”
The kettle whistled and Harley got up. Poured water into a mug she’d already filled with decaf grounds.
“Speaking of knowing things,” Echo said as Harley handed her the coffee, “Dodge was telling me how, back in high school, Pete was already into shady stuff. I’d forgotten that.”
Harley’s head snapped up. “What kind of stuff?”
“Dealing drugs. When he turned twenty-one, he started buying booze for kids.” Echo took a sip of the coffee. Made a sound of approval. “It’s not Last Frontier Bakery, but it’ll do.” She set the mug down. “Dodge said he wouldn’t be surprised if Pete was mixed up with the Sorros gang.”
Harley’s coffee turned bitter in her mouth. “Wait. Even back then?”
“Yeah. I mean, it might have been just a rumor—”
“But maybe my dad knew,” Harley said. “Gabe said there was a sting on the Sorros gang right before—”
“Gabe?” Echo asked.
Harley shared a look with Winter. Back to Echo. “So . . . woops. I forgot to tell you that”—she blew out a breath—“my brother was in WITSEC. He’s . . .”
“Alive and well,” Winter finished for her. “And married to Sunni Bowman, with a kid.”
Echo’s mouth opened. “Seriously? Wow. I need to leave the house more often.”
Harley laughed. “Yeah, well, it’s a secret. At least, with Mars still on the run.”
And right there—that was the reason she couldn’t leave.
She sighed and Winter might have read her mind. “We’ll find him.”
Which meant she probably needed to face Jericho. Apologize. Figure out a way to work with him.
“It’s not all the time God gives us a second chance to live the life we were destined for,” Echo said softly.
“I never thought Dodge would come back. There was so much pain in his life from . . .” She made a face.
“Well, you were there. You saw the fight between him and Colt that turned into an all-brother brawl. It was my fault. I didn’t think he’d be able to forgive me.
Or start over but . . . God gave him a new heart.
One filled with mercy and grace and second chances. ”
“Like yesterday in church”—Winter’s voice softened—“when Pastor Neil was talking about God removing our hearts of stone.”
“I remember,” Harley said. The words had pierced straight through her, sitting there with the Bowie family. Aching. Wishing.
“The longer we hold on to old hurts, the harder our heart becomes.” Echo reached across the table. “The remedy isn’t to fix the old . . . it’s to accept the new. To see things as God sees—through the eyes of grace and love. That’s what a new heart does.”
Echo took her hand. “Maybe you need a new heart for Jericho. One that doesn’t see him as standing in your way. And maybe, instead of being offended by his desire to protect you, you see it as him saying he loves you.”
Harley’s eyes drifted to the window. To the big empty house, the window on the second floor.
“I used to have this little pink lamp. It was in the shape of a daisy. I think it was Mom’s old desk lamp.
Anyway, at night, I’d turn it on and Jericho would then turn on his light, and it was like this game.
I don’t know, I guess it just made me feel seen. And not alone.”
Echo squeezed her hand.
Harley broke off, something clicking in her mind. “The lamp. It’s in the closet. On top of a box of Dad’s office stuff.”
She disabled the lock, and now yanked open the closet door and scanned the boxes. She’d packed it all up years ago when she put the place up on Airbnb.
“What are you doing?” Winter stood in the doorway.
“Looking for answers.” The lamp surfaced first, still wrapped in yellowed newspaper, petals dusty but intact. And under it, a file box. She moved the lamp and pulled out the box.
Inside, she found a brown accordion binder. She pulled it out. Undid the band around it.
Manila folders. She took the binder out to the table. Pulled out the files.
“What are we looking for?” Winter asked.
“I don’t know.”
Winter took a dossier, Echo another, and Harley flipped through yet another. “This one is about Vic—”
“I got it,” Winter said. “This has photos of Pete.”
Harley took it, felt the weight of photos inside. Her hands trembled as she opened it, then her breath caught as the contents spilled across the table.
Surveillance photos. Pete talking with one of the Sorros brothers, and others, people she didn’t recognize. Some of them at the Copper Mountain FBO.
“These are manifests showing fuel deliveries to the North Slope,” Echo said. “I didn’t know he traveled up there.”
“This one is of a North Face Construction truck. Building supplies.” Winter handed Harley the picture. “Matches what Gabe said.”