Craig’s eyes narrowed. “Why would I?”
The answer amounted to a dodge and Harris was not in the mood. “That’s kind of why I asked the question.”
“And last night?” Damon asked. “What was your schedule?”
Craig looked from Harris to Damon. His gaze shot back and forth as he answered the questions. “I did some runs and then went home.”
“What time?” Harris asked.
“I was back by ten or so.” Craig responded then looked at Damon. “And before you ask, I was alone.”
“This is a waste of time.” Stephen stood up. “I need to get contractors and inspectors out here.”
Harris took a cell out of his pocket and slid it across the table to Stephen. “Make the calls.”
“I have my own.” Stephen tapped on his pants pocket as if to prove his point.
Gabby’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Harris. For a second he thought she might blow the cover that she didn’t even know was happening and ask some questions, but she didn’t. She turned back to Craig. “You might need to do some extra runs to get people in and out.”
“Of course. Whatever you guys need.” Craig stood up and moved toward the doorway to the hall. “I’ll head out now, if that’s okay. I have some scheduled runs today.”
Damon looked at Stephen. “You going with him?”
“Do you have an issue with me being here?”
Stephen just did not cut anyone any slack. He held his strictest scrutiny for his niece but no one got away unscathed. Harris didn’t understand that choice. Life was hard enough without going through it as a complete asshole.
“The more people on the island, the more likely it is we’ll be tripping over each other and trampling on evidence,” Damon said.
For almost a full minute Stephen and Damon engaged in an informal staring contest. They both said their view then waited. Neither moved and the silence suggested no one else should either.
Stephen finally blinked. He shifted his weight as he took the cell out of his pocket. “I’ll catch a ride back. I want to speak with the fire inspector.”
Gabby sighed at him. “I doubt she’ll talk to you until the report is done.”
“There’s information she might need before she can reach her conclusions,” Stephen shot back.
“Is the goal to make sure she’s poisoned against me?” she asked.
“You brought this on yourself, Gabrielle. You don’t get to act like the innocent party now.”
“That’s enough.” Harris stood up and physically put his body between hers and her uncle. He was fucking done with this. If Stephen wanted a punching bag he should go buy one. From now on, so long as Harris was around, she was off-limits. “Craig, do you need anything else?”
He shook his head. “No. We should go.”
The kid looked as uncomfortable as everyone else felt. His expression said get me out of here and Harris didn’t think that had anything to do with the murder or the fire.
Stephen reached the doorway and turned to take one last look at Damon. “You’re here to do a job.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Good.” He spared Gabby a quick look of disdain then left.
As soon as both men left the room, Damon was up and out of his chair. He stepped up to the window and pulled back the sheer. He didn’t hide, but he didn’t step into the open either as he watched the men walk away.
Harris slipped the cell out of his pocket and looked at the screen. “That went well.”
“Uh-huh. What’s really going on?” she asked.
Harris dropped the cell on the table. Damon held one up.
“We cloned their cell phones.” The strategy proved quicker and easier than getting subpoenas. Checking the cells gave them windows into both men’s lives. Their schedules. Their texts and eventually their emails.
Gabby stared at the cells. “What?”
“The point was to keep them in here just long enough to get their information.” He and Damon had worked that out this morning. Wren could collect a lot of data and either dump it on them or have his people do it, but Harris thought Gabby needed to be in on this. She needed to get her hands in there and dig. It was the only way she’d ever move past the revolving door she’d gotten stuck in.
She picked up the phone nearest to her and stared at the dark screen. Then she looked at Harris. “You did that? The supposed art appraiser.”
That was not really a place Harris wanted her mind to go, but the answer wasn’t difficult. “That is a real job.”
“He can also shoot, do a decent showing with hand-to-hand combat and defuse a bomb, if given enough time—admittedly, he’s slow at that.” Damon made a face. “You’re better off running.”
Okay, that was more than Harris wanted to share. Going down this road could lead to trouble. She knew he wasn’t quite who he appeared to be. She didn’t have any clue about his role the day of the murder or his work in liberating artwork. Harris preferred to keep it that way. Once those facts came out, she’d be gone. This—them, whatever it was—would be over. He wasn’t ready for that and refused to analyze why.
“And you know something about cloning phones.” This time she sounded more fascinated than upset.
He shrugged. “My skills are endless.”
She didn’t look away from his gaze. She held it, watching him with a new sort of interest in her eyes. “I’m starting to see that.”
Harris had no idea what to think about that.
Damon came back to the table and grabbed the phones. “Is this a sex thing?”
Count on Damon to ruin a moment. Harris should not have been surprised. “What is wrong with you?”
“Just wondering.” Damon sat down and started fiddling with the cells.
Gabby watched him for a second before turning to Harris. “So, you have the phone information. How does that help you?”
“We track the calls but more importantly the phone information gets us into the email information.”
“Legally?” She winced as she asked the question.
Harris frowned at her. She had to know better by now. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t hear this.” She shook her head. “What’s the term? Plausible deniability.”
She likely wasn’t wrong, but Harris didn’t have any interest in shutting her out. She deserved answers and he worried those answers would upset her. She may as well be prepared. “We want to back our way in. See if either of them is talking to anyone about the island or Tabitha.”
“But you’ll end up seeing other stuff.”
Damon lifted his head. “You mean porn?”
“I mean privileged communications.” Gabby raised her voice as she talked. “Stephen with his lawyer. Stephen emailing everyone he knows to talk about how much he hates me.”
Damon threw her a blank look. “Do you care?”
“Wouldn’t you?” she asked.
“Not really.”
Yeah, that was enough of that, too. Harris tried to guide the conversation back to topic. “With Tabitha’s laptop gone and now most of the paperwork in the library destroyed in the fire, we need to be able to re-create any contacts she had.”
“Including Craig?”
Harris knew he had to tread carefully. He and Damon might question Craig, but she didn’t. That made tiptoeing through his life a bit harder. They had to be tactful and they had to be sure. “He’s one of the people who can come on and off this island without trouble. He has access. He has the means. He knew her. She wouldn’t have questioned him or fought him coming into the house.”
“The person who attacked her seemingly walked right in. She didn’t have defensive wounds,” Damon explained. “That likely means she knew her attacker, which makes the suspect pool very small.”
She shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”
He’d read the reports. The wound part was an issue. “Would you rather we lie to you?”
She leaned for
ward in her chair, at first talking to Damon, then she turned to Harris and put a hand against his outer thigh. “You’re talking about someone I know, someone I trust or at least am related to, being the one who killed my sister.”
He slid his hand down to cover hers. “Gabby, no matter what we find your life is probably not going to be the same.”
It was an obvious point, but Harris felt like he needed to say it. Maybe because it applied to him now. None of this, what happened back then and what was happening with Gabby now, would leave them unscathed.
“But my sister will still be dead.”
God, it ripped him apart to hear those words come out of her. “Yes, but we may know why.”
She nodded. “Do what you have to do.”
Chapter 18
It had been a long day and it wasn’t even dinnertime. The sun still rode high in the sky but approaching clouds were threatening rain. Gabby guessed tomorrow they’d wake up to overcast skies.
Stormy weather suited her. The main house had a tarp and temporary covering over the fire-stripped parts, but she didn’t worry about that. The house was a thing. Fixable, replaceable. Her mood reflected her latest round with her uncle. Her emotions kept bouncing. Dramatic highs with Harris. Paralyzing pain with her uncle.
He’d never been an easy man to like. He judged too quickly and had a rule for everything. Teen girls were pretty far out of his comfort zone. For some people having a niece might make them change, be better or more loving or softer. For Stephen she had always been a confusing puzzle who didn’t obey his orders and made his baby brother worry. That was long before the kidnapping and the plane accident and Tabitha’s murder. Those events had taken an already hard man and broken him. Wiped any and all emotion right out of him.
She understood that she had become his target, rational or not. But while she mourned everything else, it made her ache for what could have been.
She walked over to the kitchen area, wanting to forget about the newest confrontation with a bag of chips. Get lost in the salt and fat. She might eat the whole damn bag. It sure wouldn’t be the first time.
The paper rustled in her fingers as she grabbed it off the shelf. As she looked down to open the bag, the door slammed. Her head popped up and the bag fell to the floor with a crunch.
There he was. Uncle Stephen, or a version of him. This one had a loosened tie and a wild look in his eyes. She’d never been physically afraid of him, but his words could land a wallop.
He’d planned to leave then changed his mind and insisted on staying the night on the island to inspect the house and made it clear he expected a briefing from Damon. She had walked away from all of that for a few minutes of quiet and snacking in the guesthouse. She had no idea Stephen followed her.
“What are you—”
“I am done with you.” Rage made his voice shake.
A strange energy thrummed off him. The sun beamed in through the window but he gave off a dark vibe. He wasn’t shouting but she got the sense his body shook from the force of holding it back.
It was as if a tidal wave of fury moved through him. He saw her and it exploded. He never looked disheveled. He was the guy who wore a suit to a kid’s birthday party at a water adventure park. Today the suit looked right, fit well, but there was something off. That in-control remoteness had given way to something else.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
He didn’t answer her but started walking. He paced around, watching her. “How is it possible you ruin everything you touch?”
She didn’t turn her back on him. She faced him head-on as they performed this odd dance. A good five feet separated them but she started to wonder if that was enough. “I didn’t—”
“Shut up.” He came to a stop with his hands on his hips. “Do you even know what you’ve done?”
She couldn’t even tell which supposed sin he was ranting about. “Nothing. That’s the point.”
“We need to end this, Gabrielle.” His voice rose with each syllable. “This, the destruction, has gone on for far too long. To this family. To my marriage. Enough.”
Marriage? She’d heard about a trial separation, but hoped the whispers were wrong. The few distant family connections she had said her uncle and aunt were still living together and trying to make it work. “Is Aunt Lena okay?”
His face twisted in disgust. “See, you get that worried look. Your voice sounds genuinely concerned. But there’s nothing inside you.”
The words ripped through her. They didn’t just sting this time. They shredded her. She sensed that was the point. He wanted her to pay and he was tired of it not happening.
“They are all dead because of you.” The words came out with a note of awe. He shook his head as if he’d just realized all he’d lost.
But what about her? She wanted to scream that question at him. He’d been allowed to mourn. People believed his pain. No one wanted to hear anything from her. Her being at a funeral earned a scowl of disgust.
Before she could say anything else, he moved on. “The evidence is clear.”
He talked without looking at her now. It was as if she were not there and he held the conversation with the air.
“There is no evidence.” She knew that with absolute certainty because she hadn’t done anything to Tabitha. She would never do anything to Tabitha.
“Because you burned it. That’s what this was, right?” He barked out a harsh laugh. “The investigator was getting close, so you burned it all down.”
He’d twisted all the facts until they didn’t even look recognizable. As he talked his expression changed, as if he were figuring out a problem in his head.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was that problem. “Uncle Stephen, listen to me—”
“You gave up your right to call me that.” He shook his head. “I warned your dad. I told Colin to be careful. Not to let you back in. To keep you away from Tabitha.”
The warnings to her dad. Keeping her sister away from her . . . It was old news but still too much. Gabby tried to swallow and couldn’t. She debated trying to run past him but feared he’d catch her.
She fell back on the only fact that still bound them. “I am your niece.”
“Not anymore.”
Air punched out of her lungs. Everything inside her shriveled and her knees buckled. She wanted to slide to the floor and stay there.
She also wanted to lash out. To punch back and hurt him.
“How can you say that?” She looked at his pinched face and closed expression and anger swept through her. People who barely knew her believed her. Harris, Damon, Kramer. But not her own uncle. For the first time the power of that betrayal hit her. He had failed her. “Get out.”
He took a step toward her. “You can’t order me.”
The door swung open and Harris stood there with his hand still on the knob. “You should listen to her.”
Stephen barely spared Harris a glance. “This is not your business. Go back to the house.”
“Okay, we’ll do this the hard way.” Harris grabbed her uncle around the neck. Pressed his throat right in the bend of his elbow and squeezed.
“What are you—” Stephen’s voice cut off.
“I’m choking you. Thought that was obvious.”
Her mind scrambled. Nightmare scenarios about this going too far or her uncle suing Harris ran through her head. “Harris, please.”
Stephen kicked out and scratched at Harris’s arm. All the moving and shifting and fighting didn’t have much impact. Harris stood there taking it all, only moving his head to avoid getting hit in the face.
“Calm down.” Harris didn’t ease up on his hold. “Now.”
After a few more minutes of trying to break the grip, Stephen slouched against Harris. He was breathing heavy and his gaze darted around the room. After a few tours it landed on Harris’s bag and the very male underwear sticking out of the top of it in the bedroom.
His fingers tightened on Harris’s arm. �
�You’re staying here with her?”
“The sleeping arrangements aren’t the issue right now. Your attitude is.” Harris gave the older man a little shake. “Apologize to your niece.”
“Go to hell.” Stephen practically spit out the words.
Harris didn’t look even a little impressed. “Wrong answer.”
Her uncle stared at her. Even in this state, he managed to glare. “Call him off, Gabrielle.”
She’d been a spectator, out of words when Harris walked in. Still stunned by the way her uncle barged in, acting like he belonged here and could say anything without worrying about consequences. Then there was Harris. Sexy and surprisingly rough when he needed to be Harris.
He put his mouth right near Stephen’s ear. “The official name for this is rear chokehold. I restrict your breathing and if I’m really careful you only pass out.”
“Let go of me right now.” Stephen’s voice sounded firm and sure but the color had drained from his face. “You’re fired.”
She almost laughed. Only her uncle would try to pull that right now.
“You didn’t hire me.” Harris looked up at her and rolled his eyes before returning his attention to Stephen. “So, let’s try this again. Are you ready to talk in a civil manner?”
After another round of scuffing the floor and trying to get leverage, Stephen gave up. He honestly never stood a chance. Harris was much younger and in better shape. He also seemed determined to play the role of hero, which was interesting for a man who claimed not to get involved.
Stephen’s shoulders finally slumped and his grip on Harris’s arm eased. “Fine.”
Harris hesitated. He held on until she nodded to let her uncle go.
Once Harris did, Stephen spun around to face him. Adrenaline or fear had his eyes wide and glassy. “Have you lost your mind?”
Harris shrugged. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
“And now you two are together.” Stephen eyed up Harris’s bag again then stared at her. “Of course you are. You figured out a way to handle this and get what you want.”
He looked so eager to say whatever horrible thing was in his head. She debated kicking him out and contacting her attorney to keep him away from the island. But she wanted to know whatever was the big news he felt compelled to share. “What are you talking about?”
The Pretender Page 18