Page 84 of Tourist Season
“Or what about Jake Hornell? Would you happen to know anything about his disappearance on June seventh? Or how about you tell me what you were doing at the Ballantyne River last night? Because it seemed pretty fucking suspicious to me.”
Fuck.I never heard anything. Never saw a light or another car. It was a normal night at the river, except for the fact that Harper wasn’t with me, which I’m so fucking grateful for now. But clearly I wasn’t as alone as I thought.
When I still don’t answer, frustration rolls from Sam, his shoulders stiff with tension. I don’t believe he’ll ever leave Harper out of this. I’ll never take him for his word. But if I can rile him up enough, if I can force him from frustration and into rage, maybe I can coax him closer …
“Since you’re determined to make this difficult, Mr. Rhodes, we’re going to talk about what you know about Harper Starling. And then we’ll talk about whatIknow about her.” He flips a page in his notebook. “Harper was driving the car that crashedinto you and your younger brother, Billy, four years ago. After the incident occurred, she drove away and left you to die. Isn’t that—”
A sudden sound echoes from the far side of the distillery. We both startle, Sam letting out a long breath as he shakes his head. “Fucking finally.” He checks his watch before pressing a button on his camera to pause the recording. “Vinny, I’m on the landing,” he calls out.
But there’s no answer.
Sam carefully withdraws his gun from where he’s shoved it between his belt and his back. Silence descends around us. It’s shattered by another metallicwhack, like something striking one of the copper stills.
“Goddamnit,” Sam whispers. He checks my wrists and ankles, then moves toward the stairs that lead to the floor below, casting me a wary glare before he disappears. I hear his footsteps descend the rest of the stairs, and then he starts crossing the room, heading in the direction of the sound.
I resume my struggle against my bonds. But I stop the instant I see her.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss as Harper comes out of the shadows and into the bright studio lights. She crouches low, rushing toward me. There’s a slight tremor in her hand when she wraps it around my arm as she examines my predicament.
“Saving your ass, obviously,” she replies, letting go of my wrist. She drops to my feet, starting to slice at the duct tape where it’s stuck against the chair leg. “At least, I thought I was. How did you let yourself get handcuffed?”
“Let myself?Wholets themselvesget handcuffed?”
“You do, apparently. Like a fucking rookie. And if I recall correctly, this is the second time you’ve been played today.”
“Now isnot the time, Harper.” I feel the give in the tape as it splits and she moves to my other leg. “You have to get out of here,” I whisper. “He’s unhinged. He’s got a gun.”
“I noticed.”
“If he sees you here—” My words are cut short as we hear Sam’s boots scuff against the lower stairs. Harper manages to free my other ankle. “Hide.”
Our eyes meet for only an instant, but in that moment, I see fear in them. I’ve seen it in her before. I’ll never forget the terror and hopelessness that stared back at me from the abyss of the sea. But I also know that this time it’s different. She’s not afraid for herself. She’s afraid forme.
“Go,” I mouth, not letting any sound escape my lips.
Harper sneaks back to the corridor, her footfalls silent. She disappears into the shadows beyond the bright lights just a moment before Sam appears on the landing, the gun still clutched in his hand. He looks a little shaken, a little cautious. But his determination seems to take over as he returns to his camera and presses a button. A tiny red light flicks on.
“Now,” he says, then clears his throat, “where were we?”
“I believe we were at the part where I tell you that you’re fucking unhinged. You abducted me and you’re holding me against my will, and you can go fuck yourself.”
Though Sam keeps the gun lowered at his side, he flicks the safety on and off as a reminder of his power over me. Knowing Harper is somewhere in the shadows is the only thing about his quiet threat that gives me true fear. But if I can just draw him a little closer …
“You know the thing about guys like you?” I ask, settling into my chair as though I have all night to play this game. “You’re notthat much different than the people you claim to hunt down. You’ve just taken your true crime ‘infotainment’ ten steps too far. But you don’t have the actual skill to back it up.”
Sam might not move from behind the camera, but I can almost feel the heat of his rage.
“You don’t know shit about how to interview a witness. Or how to legally do … well …anything. Do you really think flying drones over Lancaster Manor or trespassing on private property or, I dunno, fuckingkidnappingwill stand up in court?”
“I don’t care about what youthink.” Sam surges closer. He trains the muzzle of the gun on my smirking face. “I care about thetruth.”
His thumb shifts. The safety clicks off.
“Tell me thefucking truth,” he snarls.
“You want to know the truth?” My heart pounds so hard against my bones that they could break. “The truth is, I’m not the one you should be worried about.”
“I am.”
