Page 53 of Deathmarch
Harper’s lips twitched. “Want me to do a taste test?”
She dropped into the closest of the two chairs as if she were a marionette and her stomach was pulling her strings. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she inhaled. She stabbed a slice of ham, cut, and ate like a pirate. Only after the third or fourth bite did she become aware of the amused look on Harper’s face.
She stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Sorry. I was hungrier than I thought. Thank you.”
“Actually, the food and the clothes aren’t the only reasons I’ve stopped by.”
Her stomach hardened. “You’re taking me back to jail. Firing squad at dawn. This is my last meal.”
“Anybody ever told you, you tend to be a little dramatic?” Harper’s blue eyes twinkled.
“I’m an actress.”
“Okay. Fine. You got me. Firing squad.”
She tilted her head. “How much do you think it would add to my sentence if I stabbed you with a fork?”
Before she could decide whether the hassle would be worth it, he said, “I wanted to let you know that you’ve been cleared of all charges.”
She laid down her silverware. “Are you serious? If you’re just playing with me, Harper Finnegan, you sadist, I swear to God…”
“Your lawyer should be calling you in a minute.”
Intense relief and gratitude filled her. Maybe her guardian angelwasawake. “How did this happen?”
“I have a pool of other suspects. I’ve gone through them. None of them has any connection to you. No trace of you was found at the scene. All evidence against you is purely circumstantial.”
“So, you no longer think I’m an accessory to murder?”
“No. I was just doing my job, and you got caught up in… Look, I’m really sorry about that.” He had the good sense to look apologetic.
“Sorry about that?!” She looked at the food before looking back up at him again. “Harper Finnegan, if I weren’t so hungry, I’d throw this plate. I—”
His stomach growled.
The sound, and the thought that he might have missed lunch too, possibly to clear her name, stole the wind out of Allie’s sail. She’d just been cleared of murder. She absolutely could not kill Harper right now. She probably shouldn’t yell at him either.
“I can’t eat all this,” she told him. “Would you like to join me?”
He dropped into the chair without hesitation, as if he’d been waiting for the invitation. “Sure.”
He pulled a second set of silverware from his back pocket, wrapped in a napkin, then grinned at the incredulous look she shot him.
She picked up her fork. Maybe shecouldstab him. Just a little. Under the table. Just one knee.
Instead, she said, “I hate smug men.”
“Noted.” He grabbed his fork and pulled a piece of ham to his side of the platter. “So what have you done today?” he asked conversationally, like they were an old married couple.
The sheer nerve of the guy.
“Rearranged my schedule.” She flashed him a fake sweet smile. “Then I cursed you for a while. Then I cursed myself for ever coming back.” She managed exactly two seconds of restraint before asking, “Who are the suspects?”
“I can’t discuss that.”
Bummer.“If the charges against me are dropped, does that mean you’ll be giving me my car back?”
“Not yet. The car is still part of the investigation.”
