After DJ closed the glass door, Harper turned to Baxter.
“I had lunch with Paul Dells today.”
“Oh, really.” Baxter’s expression grew guarded. “I heard he was back in town.”
“He’s going to be head of news at Channel Five.” Harper paused. “He offered me a job.”
Baxter dropped the silver Cross pen she was holding. “I suppose he offered you more money?”
“Twenty-five percent.”
“And?” Baxter’s tone was frosty.
Harper held up her hands. “And … I’m thinking about it.”
“Are you now.” The editor’s tone was dry, but her eyes searched Harper’s face with real worry.
“It’s a lot of money,” Harper pointed out. “I’ve got to move in three weeks. I’ll have to come up with a deposit. And I haven’t had a raise in three years.”
“No one has,” Baxter snapped.
“Look,” Harper said. “I don’t want to be on TV. But I’ve got to live. And life isn’t cheap.”
They held each other’s eyes. Baxter looked away first. “I know you’re overdue for a raise,” she conceded, an edge of frustration in her voice. “It’s Charlton that stops anybody making a living here. She squeezes every damn penny to try and get a little more for herself.” She picked up her pen again. “I’ll do what I can. I’ve got a little space in the budget to work with. It won’t be twenty-five percent. But it’ll be something.”
Harper shifted in her seat. “You know I hate to ask, right?”
Baxter pointed the pen at her, fiercely. “Don’t apologize. A man wouldn’t apologize. And you deserve more. This paper lives or dies by your work.” She waved her hand. “Now, go write that story.”
Harper headed for her desk.
As she left the glass-walled office, Baxter called after her, “And you should get some sleep. You look terrible.”
* * *
Harper delayed the call to Cara for as long as she could, finding other things to do to fill the time. By six o’clock, though, Baxter was getting impatient.
When she couldn’t put it off any longer, she finally picked up her phone. She didn’t have Cara’s direct number—she was the only person in the house who had never called her. So, after turning on the app that would record the conversation, she dialed Hunter’s number.
It rang for so long, she was expecting voice mail by the time he finally answered.
“I can’t believe you’re calling me.” He sounded livid.
“I’m sorry to—” she began, but he didn’t let her finish.
“You fucking destroyed us, Harper. Do you know that? That article was the vilest piece of attack journalism I’ve ever read. You must have balls the size of your head to call me now.”
Harper knew better than to defend herself. Instead, she said, “You’re right. I went too far.”
“Damn straight you did.” She could hear his ragged breathing. “Do you understand the damage you caused? You destroyed Cara’s life. She’s been harassed for the last twenty-four hours by the tabloid dickheads. Her career’s in the toilet—she’s been suspended from the TV series she was supposed to start shooting next month. I mean, my God, Harper. What is wrong with you?”
Harper’s throat tightened. She’d secretly hoped a story in the Savannah paper wouldn’t reach Cara’s bosses in California.
“I am truly sorry if she’s suffered because of what I wrote,” she said, honestly. “I didn’t intend to hurt her.”
A moment of frozen silence passed before he asked, “What do you want? Absolution? Because you won’t find it here.”
She hesitated, bracing herself. “I need to talk to Cara.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I’d understand completely if she refused.” She kept her voice even. “I’m working on a follow-up story and I wanted to give her the chance to comment. She can say my last story was all lies. She can tell the world I’m the worst writer she’s ever known. And I’ll put it in the paper.”
“Why on earth would she trust you after everything you’ve done?” His tone was dubious.
“I wouldn’t blame her if she told me to go to hell and hung up,” Harper said, frankly. “But I am giving her the chance to say whatever she wants.” When he didn’t respond, she pleaded, “Please, Hunter. Just let her know I’m calling.”
“I’ll tell her,” he said, finally. “But she won’t like it.”
She heard the sound of movement, and imagined him going down the wide hallway, with its faint smell of spice. Past the elegant dining room. His feet scuffing on the steps as he ran up the sweeping staircase to the airy second floor. Faintly she heard him knocking on a door. The muffled sound of voices. Finally, more footsteps. A door shutting.
And then nothing, for so long she thought he’d hung up. In the silence, she thought she heard the faint sound of breathing.
“Hello?” she asked, tentatively.
“Harper.” It was Cara’s voice.
Unlike Hunter, she didn’t sound angry. She sounded sad.
“Cara, I know I’m the last person on the planet you want to talk to right now.”
“Well, you’re definitely not who I was hoping to hear from.” Harper heard her let out a breath before she continued. “If you think I killed Xavier, you’re wrong. Yes, we had problems. Yes, we argued. But my God, I loved him.” Her voice quavered. “It’s funny, I can’t even describe how much I miss him. I sleep with one of his shirts in bed with me just so I can smell him.” She paused. “I think I miss his smell most of all. He smelled amazing. Like cinnamon and sandalwood and fresh air. I’ve never met anyone whose scent alone was enough to…” Her voice trailed off. A moment passed before she spoke again. This time, her voice was stronger. “I wanted to marry him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Someone took that away from me. And to be blamed for it … It’s the most exquisite pain I can think of. Because it takes away my right to mourn. I don’t know if you can understand that. But I hope you can.”
Harper rested her head on her hand. “I can,” she said, quietly. “I understand completely. And I am truly sorry I hurt you.”
There was a pause, and then Cara spoke again.
“Good.” She sounded satisfied. “I want you to be sorry. That means there’s still hope for you. You can go out there and find the real killer. Because all I’m living for now is seeing that person pay.” Steel entered her carefully calibrated voice. “You find that person, Harper. You’re a good reporter and I think you can do it. You were wrong about me, but I think you’re right about one thing. I think it was somebody close to him. Close to us.”
“You do?” Harper couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
“It makes sense.” Cara talked with steady determination, her voice low. “And if it was someone in this house, then I’m in danger, too. So, you have to figure it out. As fast as you can. I need you to.”