Page 99 of Long Gone

His gaze turned to the bar where Malcolm was pulling a beer. “He seems dangerous, Harper, and he seems to be holding a grudge against you.”

“I assure you, Dad, I’m not in any danger. That’s just Malcolm. All bark and very little bite.”

“He has a dangerous history.”

“And he’s reformed now,” I said with a bright smile that I hoped didn’t look as fake as it felt. “I’m fine. It’s just something we do. No big deal.”

Dad set his napkin on the table. “I think I’ll call it a night. Maybe you should head home too.”

Fucking Malcolm. What the hell did he think he was doing by walking over? Sure, I’d expected him to be here, but it had seemed safer to come here than risk him showing up if we went somewhere else. Obviously that had been a mistake.

“We can stay a little longer.” I shot Malcolm a glare.

But my father noticed Malcolm watching us and pulled out his wallet, tossing some money on the table. “I need to go. I’ll call you later.”

“Dad—”

But he was already out of the booth and darting across the room to the door.

I was so furious, I could hardly contain my rage. I got up and strode to the bar, my fists clutched at my sides. “What the hell was that?” I demanded when I reached Malcolm, not bothering to keep my voice down.

I felt a moment of satisfaction because he seemed genuinely caught off guard by my response. But anger flashed in his eyes.

“Time and place, Detective,” he grunted out through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Malcolm,” I shot back. “Time and place.”

He darted a glance at Misti, who was staring at us with an open mouth. Several people at the bar were staring too.

“Meet me at the back door,” he said under his breath, looking like he wanted to reach across the bar and strangle me. “Now.”

I nearly told him that I didn’t take orders from him, but I wasn’t done reaming him, and he wasn’t entirely wrong. This really wasn’t the time and place.

Spinning on my heels, I marched over to the table and grabbed my purse and coat and headed outside. In case anyone was watching, I got in my car and drove to the back and parked. When I got out, Malcolm pushed the back door open and gave me an impatient look.

I marched past him into his office, and he shut the door behind us.

“What the hell were you thinking?” I demanded; my hands fisted at my sides again. “He was telling me about Hugo, and you blew that to kingdom come. He’s terrified that you know what he did.”

“I do know what he did.”

“Do you now?” I shot back, heavy with sarcasm. “Then please enlighten me.”

“Just because he’s your father doesn’t mean he’s pure as the driven snow.”

“I know that, you fucking idiot,” I shouted, not caring who heard me. “He was talking, and then you showed up and spooked him.”

He started to say something and then stopped.

I began pacing, pressing the heel of my hand against my forehead.

Malcolm pushed out a breath. “Once he settles down, he’ll talk to you.”

I stopped pacing. “No, he won’t. He’s freaked out by you, and he thinks you have it out for me. If anything, he’ll keep quiet to protect me.” My anger rose along with my voice. “So thank you very fucking much!”

Malcolm cursed under his breath and walked over to his whiskey decanter. He poured himself a generous drink then downed it in two gulps.

“What did he tell you?”

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