She stood up so suddenly, DJ glanced at her in surprise. “I’m going to police headquarters.” Picking up her scanner, she weighed it in her hand, then handed it to him. “Keep an ear on this.” She grabbed her bag. “I’ll have my phone with me. Call me if you hear anything.”
“Code four in particular,” he said.
She shot him a look. “Learn the other codes, DJ.”
“I have a list,” he called after her, but she was already halfway across the newsroom.
Downstairs, she stood impatiently by the door waiting for the guard to go outside first. He donned a raincoat, then splashed out in grim silence, looking both ways before motioning for her.
Harper ran for the car, keys in her hand. She moved fast but she was soaked by the time she got in. The rain was relentless.
This time, she didn’t call the police to let them know she was on the move. They’d find out soon enough.
Still, as she crawled through the city streets, avoiding the lanes she knew by now were submerged, she watched the rearview mirror intently. Nobody was behind her. The streets were deserted. Even the tourists were staying inside.
She parked in the fire zone close to the sturdy brick police building and dashed through the pouring rain for the door, her boots sloshing through the water, the gun pressing against her ribs.
Dwayne looked up from the front desk as she walked in. “Lord. Look what the cat dragged in,” he called as she dripped across the lobby on the flatted cardboard boxes someone had placed atop the old linoleum flooring to soak up the water.
Harper didn’t smile. “I need a word with Luke Walker or Daltrey,” she said.
Dwayne had known her since she was twelve. He heard the edge to her voice.
“They’re both upstairs. Hang on.” He dialed quickly. “Detective, I’ve got Harper McClain down here.” He listened and said, “You got it.” When he hung up he gestured at the security door. “She says go up.”
After he released the security door, Harper hurried through, her boots skidding on the floor as she raced down the dark back hallway that always smelled damp even on the driest day, and was worse than ever now, and up the wide, scuffed stairs to the next floor. When she reached the landing, Luke and Daltrey were already walking toward her.
“Is there any news?” she asked. “I’ve been going crazy sitting in the office.”
Luke’s worried expression told her the answer even before he spoke. “We’ve got nothing.”
Seeing her face fall, Daltrey explained, “The storm’s slowing everything down. Martin Dowell’s got too much sense to go out in this. He’s holed up somewhere.”
“We’ve got warnings out statewide and into South Carolina and Florida as well,” Luke told her. “If he moves we’ll find him.”
Biting her lip, Harper nodded, slowly. But she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. How was she was going to make it through another night sitting with a gun, waiting to be killed?
“He doesn’t care about warnings,” she told them. “We’re giving him too much time.”
Hearing the panic in her voice, Luke stepped toward her. “We will get him, Harper.”
“I know you will,” she said, but her voice was uneven.
Luke glanced at Daltrey. “I don’t like her being alone out there tonight. What does Blazer think?”
“He thinks she’s safer out there than she would be in the city,” Daltrey told him. “There’s a county unit sitting outside her door all night.”
Still, he shook his head, every muscle tight as a wire. “I still don’t like it,” he said. “I’m going to talk to Blazer.”
Daltrey leveled a warning look at him. “You do you, Walker. But the lieutenant has a plan, and he believes that plan is working.”
“Luke, don’t.” Harper reached out, and then stopped herself. Her hand fell back to her side. “I’ll be okay.”
Luke held her eyes for a moment, and then nodded reluctantly.
She wondered whether he’d show up at her door again tonight. And if he did, whether she’d be strong enough to send him away twice.
Daltrey’s phone buzzed. She glanced down at it, and then turned to Luke. “We need to go. The coroner needs to talk to us.”
The three of them walked down the stairs together in somber silence. At the front door they stopped.
“Call dispatch before you go home tonight,” Daltrey told Harper. “Take the escort.”
“I won’t forget,” Harper said.
As Daltrey pushed open the door and walked into the wall of rain, behind her back, Luke caught Harper’s hand for just a moment, out of sight.
“Dowell’s going to make a mistake,” he assured her. “They always make mistakes.”
As Harper walked to her car, she hoped he was right.
Because it seemed to her that Martin Dowell kept proving everyone wrong.
32
After leaving the police station, Harper drove cautiously back toward Bay Street. Three times she had to slam on the brakes to avoid oak branches blocking the road. She’d just stopped at a red light when her phone rang. Sure it was Baxter wondering where she was, she pulled it from her pocket.
But it wasn’t Baxter. It was Hunter.
“Harper, thank God.” His voice had a high, nervous pitch. She could hear the wind through the phone, howling like someone in pain.
The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. “What’s wrong?”
“You’ve got to get out here.” He gave a gasping, unfunny laugh. “I thought we were fine, you know? I thought we’d get through this. But we won’t. Cara’s lost her mind.”
The light turned green but Harper stayed where she was, windshield wipers thumping hard. “What’s happening?”
She could hear muffled sounds through the line. Raised voices. Someone—Allegra?—was crying hysterically.
“Stop it,” Hunter shouted so loudly it made Harper jump. “Put down the gun.”
Then very clearly, Cara’s voice, screaming, hysterically, “He trusted you. And you—”
Someone covered the receiver and she couldn’t make out the last words.
“Just hang up!” It was Allegra’s voice. “Hang up and help me!”
The phone went dead. Harper stared at it for just a moment, then shook herself and dialed Luke’s number.
He answered on the first ring. “You okay?”
“I just got a call from Hunter,” she said. “He told me to come out there. They’re fighting. Cara was screaming in the background. It sounded like she was accusing Hunter of murder. They said something about a gun.”
“Hang on a minute,” he said, tersely.
She heard him relaying this to Daltrey, who gave a short reply.
“We’re on our way to the coroner’s office right now,” he said. “I’ll call Tybee P.D. and get a local unit out there.”
“I’m going, too,” she said. “I need to see what’s happening.”
“Harper, don’t do that,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“It’s my job,” she reminded him, although she knew Baxter wasn’t interested in this story. “I’ll call dispatch and let them know. I promise I’ll be careful.”