“Our living arrangements work out perfectly for us. We’re close and yet not on top of each other. Why would we ever want to give that up?”
Harris’ expression was hard to read. “I’m unclear why you need to crawl into bed with them at all,” he said finally.
“Harper and I enjoy a good gossip session in the morning. Jared is a thief of joy. He likes taking that away from us.”
“I see.” Harris might’ve said the words, but to Zander, it was obvious he didn’t mean them. “Um ... what were we talking about again?” He took a moment to regroup. “Your living arrangements don’t have to change. I’m sure I can find you guys houses across the road from one another up here.”
“Right ... and what about Jared and Shawn?”
“I guess they could come. They don’t really fit in with the brand I’m putting together, but there’s no reason they can’t find other jobs. Heck, you saw how inept the police force is here. They would probably jump at the chance to get a man like Jared on their team.”
“But why would Jared want to move up here?”
“Because Harper will be up here.”
To Zander, it felt as if the conversation was endlessly circling ... and he didn’t like it. In his mind, it was time to lay down the law. “Listen, you seem like a nice enough guy. I don’t want to be rude, but there’s no chance that Harper and I will ever move up here. It’s simply not going to happen.”
Harris’ expression never changed. “Do you think Harper would be willing to move up here alone?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Are you sure?” Harris wasn’t ready to back down. “I don’t know that she’ll be as marketable without you as a sidekick, but I still think she’ll draw a crowd. Well, if she’ll ever loosen up those pesky morals of hers, that is.”
Zander was officially at his wit’s end. “That’s not going to happen.” He held up his hands to keep Harris at a distance. “I mean ... just never, ever going to happen.”
Harris was barely listening. “Maybe I should talk to Harper again ... and this time without her boyfriend present. He’s probably the one who put the kibosh on talk of moving.”
“Knock yourself out,” Zander shot back. “I guarantee it won’t go how you think it’s going to go, though. However, I no longer care about sparing your feelings.”
“I’ll track her down myself,” Harris pressed. “That’s probably my best option.”
Zander’s lip curled. “Whatever.” He started to stomp away and then stopped himself. “For the record, I am not a sidekick. I’m a headliner. She’s the sidekick.”
Harris was already off in his own little world and didn’t respond.
“I really hate this trip,” Zander muttered under his breath. “It’s one indignity after another.”
THE GUIDE’S NAME WAS AMBER TRENT AND she seemed surprised when Harper joined her at a quiet table, one set back a good twenty feet from the bonfire.
“Do you need something?” Amber asked blankly. She had a can of beer clutched in her hand, and if Harper had to guess, she was self-medicating to ease the memory of what she’d discovered only twenty-four hours before.
“I just thought I would stop by and see how you’re doing,” Harper replied quickly, hoping the smile she flashed came off as friendly. “You’re all alone over here, and I figured you might want some company.”
Amber sipped her beer and regarded Harper for a long beat. “You were one of the people who showed up right away last night. After ... you know, after ... .”
Harper nodded sympathetically. “I am one of those people.”
“You were with the guy who’s a cop.”
“Detective,” Harper automatically corrected, and then realized how hoity-toity she sounded. “He’s a detective with the Whisper Cove Police Department, I mean.”
“Whisper Cove?” Amber furrowed her brow, making Harper wonder exactly how many beers she was hiding beneath at the present moment. “I don’t think I know where that is.”
“It’s down in Southeastern Michigan.”
“Like ... by Detroit?”
“More north and east than that. It’s located right on the lake.”
“Oh, that sounds nice.” Amber grinned as she sipped again. “I’ve always wanted to live on a lake.”
“Oh, yeah? Where are you from?”
“A small town called Mancelona. It’s located in the middle of nowhere.”
Harper cocked her head, searching to see if she could place the town name. “I guess I’ve never been there.”
“Don’t worry. Nobody has.” Another sip. “It has one stoplight and no Starbucks. There’s absolutely nothing there worth anything.”
“You came from there,” Harper countered. “I don’t think you’re worth nothing.”
“Well ... I think you should talk to my mother. She’ll find a way to convince you otherwise.” Another sip.
Harper pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead and debated how to proceed. It was obvious Amber was feeling sorry for herself. Given the circumstances, Harper remained convinced that was allowed. Amber had gone through a trauma. She was allowed to feel whatever she wanted to feel.
“Have you ever seen a dead body before?” Amber asked, filling in the silence. She tipped back her beer can and made a face when she realized it was empty, immediately reaching toward the cooler on the ground next to her feet. “I mean ... a dead body before the one you saw last night.”
Harper considered trying to cut Amber off from her beer supply but ultimately didn’t bother. That would likely turn into an ugly business, and the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene. Besides, Amber was an adult ... although she still looked like a teenager in a lot of ways. A hangover might serve as a lesson that drinking one’s sorrows away never worked.
“I’ve seen a
