Page 68 of Jack

“So, you still went into journalism, despite the debacle?”

Right. They were still catching up. Her heart thumped, finally. “Yeah. Turns out I can write a pretty good story. Without copying it. I entered the contest the next year, under a pen name, and won.”

“Attagirl.”

Aw,and now he’d lit a full-out fire inside her.

“I got a part-time job at theDuck Lake Currents,and that seeded in me a love for story.”

He pulled into the lot and parked. “Here goes nothing.”

Bowman.Girl, get your head in the game.

She followed him into the hospital, and at the desk, they asked about Ty. The receptionist gave them passes to the second-floor ICU waiting room.

Mrs. Bowman sat on a vinyl chair, her eyes closed, clutching her purse, wearing jeans and her boots, a jacket over her like a blanket. Fatigue lined her face.

She roused at their footsteps, blinked and sat up. Her red eyes suggested she’d been crying.

Harper sank into the chair beside her. “Mrs. Bowman. We heard about Ty.”

The woman glanced up at Jack, then at Harper, and her eyes filled. “Oh, he’ll be so glad you’re here.”

Harper looked at Jack, not sure?—

Jack crouched in front of her, his voice soft. “Ma’am. We . . . we found this.” He pulled out the cell phone. Held it up to her.

“That’s Ty’s phone.”

“Yes. And there’s a text frozen on the screen. From you.” He raised an eyebrow.

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t . . . he is . . . I . . .”

“It’s okay,” Harper said. “You’re not in trouble, but we are looking?—”

“Working with the investigation into the shooting,” Jack said. “And we need to ask a few questions in order to find the shooter.”

“I already gave a statement to Sheriff Davidson.”

“I know,” Jack said, nodding. “Would you mind terribly if I asked some follow-up questions? Just to help our search.”

Oh, he was good at this. Not lying, but not letting her think they were rogue, either. She should take notes.

“I guess not.”

Harper got up and went to a vending machine, put in a couple dollars, and returned with coffee.

Jack had taken her chair after swiping the tissue box from a nearby table. He handed Mrs. Bowman a tissue. She blew her nose into it, then took the coffee from Harper.

“We just need to know what you were referring to when you said you weren’t going to lie for him anymore.”

She wiped her eyes with the wadded tissue. “He sometimes does airport runs.”

A beat, and Jack frowned. “What?”

Harper had also expected something more epic.

“Yeah. Airport runs. All the way into Minneapolis.” She shook her head likeWhat a disappointment.

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