Page 37 of Deathmarch
“I always thought you’d end up on Broadway. With all the school shows you did,” Harper said. “I bet you didn’t expect me to end up with the police.”
The understatement of the year.She wanted to ask how that happened, but didn’t want to talk to him.
He told her anyway. “Growing up with a houseful of brothers, I was always part of a team. Then they went off, serving overseas. I missed the brotherhood, I guess. And with Broslin PD, I got a sister too. Gabi. She came out here from Philly for the job, then ended up marrying Captain Bing’s brother.”
Hunter got married?Allie was dying to ask for the details, but she bit her tongue.
“We keep the town safe,” Harper said. “Gives me a reason to get up in the morning. You’d think with a small town like Broslin, the job would be boring, but we have our share of crazies. Although murder is damn rare. I won’t lie, it’s mostly parking tickets and some petty theft.”
To his credit, he didn’t mention that the crime rate had dropped once Tony Bianchi had left town. Allie appreciated that.
He looked at her in the rearview mirror before he refocused on the road. “Couple of us took the test to become detective. We could get a job in West Chester or Philly, but the thing is, none of us wants to leave. I don’t care if our biggest event of the year is securing the Mushroom Festival.”
She didn’t comment.
He went on, catching her up on their old friends and what had happened in town over the past decade. The biggest excitement was Hope Hill, the rehab center for veterans.
“Maybe you could do a show there,” Harper said, then added, “I can’t believe you’re not in musical theater. You were so good at that.” He glanced at her in the mirror again. “I hated going to school in the first place. They couldn’t have signed me up for an afterschool activity if they paid me. But you were always going to rehearsals. You never seemed to mind all the time the shows required.”
“The time required is why I went.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder with his eyebrows raised.
“So I wouldn’t have to be home.” She shrugged. “It’s not like my father was a monster. He had good days. But the bad days outweighed them. The drinking got out of hand a lot. With the drama club, there were rehearsals, then I could sign up to work on the set. Or stay late to help others learn their lines—all time I didn’t have to spend at home. Then there were the shows, where I could pretend I was someone else.”
On the stage, she was spunky Rizzo inGreaseinstead of Tony Bianchi’s daughter. Or Christine inPhantom of the Opera. Or Belle inBeauty and the Beast.She got to wear fancy costumes, and nobody would make fun of her clothes for being too small or too threadbare or stained.
She waited for Harper to comment, but he’d fallen silent, and he stayed that way all the way to West Chester.
Her lawyer ran down the steps of the courthouse when he spotted them.
“I have some good news.” Devon Abram waved a manila folder. “Reduced charges.”
The words to thank him were on the tip of Allie’s tongue. Then she realized that he looked surprised at her turn of luck. But if he hadn’t argued the charges down, as she’d originally assumed, then who did?
She didn’t have time to ponder. They were going in.
“Ever been inside?” Abram asked.
“First time in court on my own behalf.” She’d only ever come before to support her father.
Harper glanced at her with an unfathomable expression. Maybe he didn’t believe her.
Allie gritted her teeth. “I’m agoodperson, all right? This is not supposed to happen to good people.”
She’d lived her entire life on the right side of the line, to make sure she ended up nothing like her father. The whole flipping unfairness of it made her want to scream.
She shot a surly look at Harper. “You boosted stuff for my father all the flipping time. In what universe am I going in front of a judge, and you’re the cop standing behind me?”
He gave her nothing, just more of that inscrutable look, although his mouth was tight around the corners. When he finally deigned to address her, all he said was, “Say as little as possible. Let Devon do the talking.”
“I’ll say what I want to say.”
But, as it turned out, she didn’t.
The hearing went by startlingly fast, leaving her dazed. The only thing she was sure of at the end was the bail. The judge said twenty thousand.Dollars. Real money.
Her head swum. “Iwouldhave to rob someone to get that kind of dough.”
