that?”
“Nope.” Sam heaved a sigh. “No bet, Ray. Not this time.”
When he had delivered his news, Ray headed for the door, but turned around, waggling a finger. “Hey, did you know that kid is the son of a cop?”
“What?” She wondered if Jessie knew. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, Max Jenkins. He used to serve at Central, detective division. He cracked a big case in his day before he retired. The Danny Ray Millstone case, the serial pedophile who killed and abused all those kids? You and me, we were pretty young back then, but people still talk about it.”
Sam felt like someone had smacked her in the head. That name, Danny Ray Millstone, had triggered a gut- wrenching sensation. Jessie had been one of Millstone’s young victims. And Sam carried her own memories of how her path had crossed Jessie’s all those years ago—a secret she had kept between them.
As a kid, she had seen Jessie poke her finger out of a dark basement one day, but she didn’t mention it to her parents or anyone else. Later, she admitted it struck her as odd, but as a kid she had no idea the old man in that house could have done such vile things. Detective Max Jenkins eventually rescued Jessie and the others, but not before weeks of abuse continued, and another little girl had been taken. Even after all these years, Sam held on to the guilt of not telling—and became another victim herself.
“When did you find this out, Ray?” She barely recognized her own voice.
“I heard it came out at the kid’s bail hearing. Some big developer named Anthony Salvatore made his bail. The guy was a friend of old Max. Guess the kid has ties to the community after all. Big ones.” He narrowed his eyes when she didn’t respond.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” She waved him off and forced a smile that had all the staying power of a snowflake on a hot sidewalk.
“Well, I gotta go.” He wanted nothing more than to stay, but something in her eyes told him he wouldn’t be welcomed. Nothing personal. “Good night, Coop.”
“Yeah…good night, Ray. And thanks.”
She closed the door behind him and locked it, then leaned against the doorframe, stunned. Jessie had heard about Seth’s father at the bail hearing. And she’d deliberately not told her about it. Her friend’s life had its dark corners, ones she’d never get to see. And of all people, she understood Jessie’s reasons.
But that didn’t stop the guilt she felt for playing a part in Jessie’s childhood torment. The dark memory rose hot, like bile in her stomach—and always would.
Jess hated to let Harper go, but she had no choice. With his cheeks flushed red, he had refused to stay. His bruised male ego had taken over, and she completely understood. He’d left her place looking more depressed than when he’d arrived—and that was saying something. She understood his need to be alone, especially after she’d overreacted to his sudden show of affection. She’d been guilty, too. She had not only let it happen, she’d kissed him back. The awkwardness of the moment hadn’t helped their strained relationship, but why hadn’t she seen it coming?
“Damn it,” she cursed under her breath. She could have handled it better. Her shock had hurt him. She’d seen it in his eyes. In hindsight, they had both been vulnerable and had probably only reacted out of need for comfort. Maybe he hadn’t meant anything more than that, and she had overreacted and embarrassed him.
And after getting Sam’s call about the downhill slide of Seth’s life, she wouldn’t wait until morning to go looking for him. It gave her more of a legitimate reason to search for him, beyond the personal one that had left her baffled. She only wished that she’d insisted they talk about what had happened between them rather than letting him walk out the door.
After all, she had a roll of duct tape and a gun. She could have convinced him to stay.
And on top of it all, Sam had sounded distant on the phone: but when Jess asked her about it, her friend denied it and told her to focus on finding Harper.
The first place she looked was his downtown residence, the one she’d found with her taxi-company search. According to the late-night concierge, Harper had cleared out in a hurry without explanation. As usual, he had packed light, carrying only a knapsack on his back, but she had no idea if she could trust what the concierge had said.
If Harper was on the run again, his living nightmare would be ramped up with no end in sight. Even if his bloodwork came back positive for the date-rape drug that had taken his memory—casting doubt on the state’s case against him—the cops could arrest him for the assault if he didn’t have an alibi. And if this new charge could be linked to Mandy’s murder, even if the accusation was false, it would be damaging to his defense. With the evidence piling up against him, the ADA would have plenty of time to make her case without a hitch.
She had one other location to check, a posh condominium project off Lakeshore Drive near the Chicago Harbor, but it would be a long shot. Harper had vacated the premises months ago, and she had the feeling he never covered the same ground twice. But searching the address would make her feel like she was doing something.
Jess found a spot to park along the curb outside the six-story building, but before she got out, her cell rang. Her phone display gave no caller ID, but that didn’t stop her from hoping she knew who was on the line.
“Yeah, Beckett here.”
“Hey, it’s me.” Harper’s voice sounded distant. “I don’t suppose you’d agree to the Vulcan mind meld to forget what happened.”
“I’m not sure I want Leonard Nimoy messing with my head, Harper. I’m screwed up enough.” Like Seth, she resorted to humor to broach the subject, but before she could tell him how she really felt, he interrupted her.
“If you can forget it ever happened, I’m okay with that,” he said. “Irrational behavior is part of an insanity plea I’m building.”
When Humphries had reminded her that Seth wasn’t as young as she thought, the notion had surprised her. She’d always thought of him as a kid, probably because the harsh life she led had hardened her beyond her years. And Harper struck her as a naive kid trying to find his way.
He had an open innocence to everything he did. Seeing him in this new light—as a man—had taken her off guard.
“I’m not sure I want to forget it happened, but we do have other things to worry about.”
“Yeah, I know the cops are looking for me again. What they’re saying…it isn’t true, Jessie.”
His frustration came through over the phone, despite the loud traffic noise in the background on his end.
“You didn’t have to tell me that, Harper.” She plugged an ear to hear him better. “Where are you?”
“I haven’t landed yet.” His polite way of saying he had no intention of putting her in the middle with the cops. “And I’m on my own this time. I won’t drag Tony Salvatore into the shambles of my life. Man, how did things get so screwed up?”
“I don’t know, Harper, but I’m gonna find out. You have an alibi for when the hooker got beat up?” She gave him the time she’d gotten from Sam.
“With the way my luck has been going, what do you think? And I’m too stupid to lie.”
But Jess had to give Harper strokes for more than just honesty. This time he hadn’t pulled his usual vanishing act in stealth mode. He’d reached out to call her. But she had a sickening feeling this would be the last time she’d hear his voice. If he’d severed his tight link to Salvatore, it wouldn’t take much for him to shut her out.
Jess closed her eyes to imagine him standing in front of her now, to help her focus on his words—but picturing him wasn’t enough. Knowing Harper, he had a throwaway phone, and he had probably made arrangements to bury himself deep. If she had any lifeline to him, the rope was fraying.
She had failed him. That was all she knew. And failing the son of Max Jenkins—the man who had sacrificed so much to rescue her—was unacceptable.
“No one ever tells you how important it is to eat black-eyed peas at New Year’s,” he said. “Now my luck is for shit.”
“Yeah, and being framed for murder really blows, but this isn’t over.”
“Come on, Jess. I think it’s time to cut your losses. The odds of me getting out of this are slim to none.” He sighed. “I’m not running away, but I just can’t sit in jail.”
“I completely understand, Harper. And I commend you for thinking outside the box, but the cops aren’t likely
