Hunter’s foot had begun to jitter. His hands white-knuckled the arms of the chair.
Daltrey turned her attention to Harper. “Perhaps you should leave now, McClain.”
There was no point in arguing. She started to stand but Hunter stopped her. “We want her here.” His voice was firm.
“This is private information,” Daltrey argued, but Hunter shook his head stubbornly.
“Talk to all of us.”
The other two nodded their agreement.
With obvious reluctance, Daltrey gave in. She motioned for Luke to take over.
“I’m afraid we don’t have good news.” He stepped closer to them, his voice somber. “A body was found this afternoon by a fishing boat off the coast. I’m sorry to tell you, we believe it’s Xavier Rayne.”
10
The night descended into chaos.
“It’s not true,” Allegra kept saying, looking plaintively from Cara to Hunter. “It’s not true.”
Hunter stood, knocking the guitar over. It hit the floor with a crash as he rounded on the two detectives, his face red, every muscle tense with shock. “How do you know it’s him?”
Cara was the only one who didn’t speak. She stared at Luke, as pale and still as a church statue.
“His mother is on her way now from Atlanta to identify the body.” Daltrey’s voice was steady. “But based on the pictures and descriptions we’ve received of markings and tattoos, we are confident.”
Cara gave a low moan.
Deprived of more objections, Hunter fell silent, his expression suddenly empty.
Allegra appealed to Harper, her huge eyes swimming with tears. “How is this happening?”
All Harper could think of to say was, “I’m very sorry.”
Jumping to her feet, Cara shoved past the detectives and fled into the house, her filmy white top floating behind her like wings.
Abandoned, Allegra ran to Hunter. He pulled her into his arms, holding her like a child. Harper heard her say something that sounded like, “I’m so scared.”
She wanted out of here. Watching them go through this was excruciating. They’d invited her in to talk, not to watch their lives shatter into a million jagged pieces.
As if he were thinking the same thing, Luke stepped closer and spoke to her, his voice low. “Come with me.”
Relieved, she hurried after him through the double glass doors into the hallway.
The house still looked as magical and perfect as it had that first day, but the feel of the place was already changing. A solemn chill permeated the huge, bohemian rooms.
“You need to go.” Luke’s voice was low but firm. “Right now.”
Harper ignored that. “You knew this afternoon, didn’t you?” she whispered accusingly as she hurried to keep up with him. “That’s where Daltrey was when I saw you. She was with the coroner.”
They’d reached the front door. He turned back to face her. “You know I couldn’t tell you what was going on right then. Anyway, we weren’t sure it was him yet.”
“Well, if you had told me, I wouldn’t have come in here tonight, asking them idiotic questions about where they thought he was hiding,” she said. “What the hell happened to him, anyway? Did he drown?”
His face closed.
For some reason, this got to her. There’d been a time when he wouldn’t have hesitated to trust her.
“Oh, fine, Luke,” she snapped. “Thanks for nothing.”
But when she tried to open the door, he pressed his hand against it, stopping her.
“Jesus, Harper. Could you just give me a second?” He raked his fingers through his sandy-brown hair, his brow knitting. “What I was trying to say is Julie would kill me if she found out I told you. I don’t want to piss her off. That’s all.”
“Give me a break, Luke. You know I won’t identify you. I never have before. Besides, Miles and I have a bet. I’ve got twenty dollars says he drowned.”
For a long second he held her eyes. Then he said, “Where did Miles put his money?”
“Overdose.”
He glanced around to make sure no one was near, then stepped close enough that she could smell the clean, sandalwood scent of him, and lowered his voice. “You both lose. Someone shot him.”
Harper’s jaw dropped. “You’re shitting me.”
“I am not, in fact, shitting you. This is a homicide investigation.” He reached past her for the door, his arm brushing hers as he pulled it open. “Now, get going before the forensic team gets here, unless you want to spend the night in an interrogation room.”
She had her front-page story. “Thanks, Luke.”
“No idea why you’re thanking me,” he said, deadpan. “I told you nothing except that there’s a press conference in an hour.”
Racing from the beachfront mansion into the glare of the TV lights, she pulled her phone from her pocket, dialing without slowing down.
It rang three times before Baxter answered. “This better be good.”
“Oh, it’s very good.” Harper’s voice shook with each step. “Someone shot Xavier Rayne to death. They found his body.”
“Fuck me.” All the tiredness left Baxter’s voice. “When?”
“Just now. I was there when the police informed his housemates.” Breathless, Harper glanced to where the TV vans were parked. Natalie was watching her with a suspicious expression. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “No one else knows.”
“Is Miles out there?” Baxter asked.
“Not yet.”
“Call him. Get him to meet you. I’m heading back to the office. What time is it?”
Harper looked at her watch. “Eight o’clock. Listen, there’s going to be a press conference within the hour, but I got all this from a detective off the record. No names.”
“A well-placed detective?”
“Extremely.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Baxter sounded impatient. “Write something for the website right now citing an unidentified police source. I’ll rejig the front page. You and Miles get everything you can out there then get your asses back here. Break the speed limit. I’ll pay your tickets.”
The line went dead.
Without missing a beat, Harper called Miles. He answered on the first ring. “What’s up?”
She gave him the same information she’d just told their editor. “Baxter wants you here. Press conference within the hour.”
All he said was, “On my way.”
Nothing ever surprised Miles.
Harper jogged to where she’d parked the Camaro and popped the trunk to get her laptop and into the driver’s seat to write.
She was waiting impatiently for the mobile Wi-Fi to connect when two dark sedans drove down the narrow lane, followed by a van. Harper spotted Lieutenant Blazer in the passenger seat of one of the cars.
If Blazer was already here, there wasn’t much time. The cops would be eager to get the message out—to show that they were on top of it. Soon the forensics team would descend on the house and turn it inside out.
Harper kept replaying the moment Luke and Daltrey stepped out on the porch. The way Hunter had turned pale. And Cara’s hope shattered like glass.