Page 45 of The Pretender

“What?”

“You kind of suck with women.”

Harris nodded as he watched Gabby get farther away on the path. “With this one, yeah.”

“Let’s hope she’s not on the video.”

Harris spun around to face Damon. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you Wren put cameras on the island. It’s why I didn’t bother locking the front door last night. Well, that and because I couldn’t guarantee Gabby wouldn’t kick you out of bed again.” Damon hesitated, likely for dramatic effect. “But my point is one of those well-hidden, invisible-to-the-naked-eye cameras will show us who came into the house.”

Harris closed his eyes. He knew it wasn’t her. There was no way she snuck out after they had sex. He refused to believe she’d tired him out to go hunting again. “Damn.”

“If she got away from you once, she could have done it twice.”

It was as if Damon was in his head, reading every thought. Harris hated that. “It wasn’t her.”

“We’ll know soon enough.”

Chapter 12

Damon insisted on immediately questioning the Kramer men. Harris wasn’t about to miss that. Tagging along also gave him a chance to put a little more breathing room between him and Gabby. The idea of letting her cool off before they talked sounded good to him. He just hoped they were talking hours and not days.

They tracked Kramer and Ted to the pool. They’d been standing there, walking around and checking gauges, pumps and water levels for over an hour. Harris figured they had to be done soon or at least need a break.

Damon didn’t waste any time. He started talking as soon as they stepped onto the flagstone patio running along one side of the infinity pool. “I need to talk with Ted.”

“No,” Kramer answered without looking up from rummaging through his toolbox.

Ted rolled his eyes. “Dad.”

“Neither of you actually get to say no,” Damon said, talking right over Ted.

Kramer looked up then. “Are you FBI? Do you have a badge?”

This was going well. Harris couldn’t imagine what usable information they could get out of this conversation. “He’s got you there.”

Kramer continued to balance on his haunches as his focus turned to Harris. “And why are you here?”

Good fucking question. “As a witness.”

It was the best excuse Harris could come up with. In a way it fit with the cover they’d already established. No one believed the art-valuation story, even though it was sort of true. At this point it might make more sense to dump it, but at least he was actually qualified to perform that sort of work. This investigation stuff was well out of his area of expertise.

Kramer frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I’m a neutral party. I listen in and provide testimony in case there’s a question later.” Harris ended the comment with the same fake confidence he’d been practicing his entire life. It must have worked because Damon only shot him a quick glance.

Kramer made a show of exhaling and half groaning as he stood up. The wrench he dropped into the toolbox made a loud clanking sound. “Don’t you think it’s time you admit you two are working together for Stephen?”

“You like to ask a lot of questions.” Harris switched strategies. Forget reason. He flipped into attack mode. Putting people on the defensive tended to change the conversation. “Is it just the answering that’s an issue for you?”

“What’s your problem, son?” Kramer asked.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Damon walked on the edge of the pool. Only inches from falling in. “Where were you last night?”

Kramer threw out his arms. “We’re on an island. Where the hell do you think I was?”

“That’s a fair question.” It was the same one Harris kept running up against. The island meant limited movement. People couldn’t get off a boat and blend in. Anyone visiting would be seen, which meant they had to be a known quantity... unless they snuck on like he did. That meant skills or training or a hell of a will to get in and out.

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