Chapter 2 - The Badge
Harper’s first words after I closed the door were:
“Please don’t call anyone.”
I leaned against the door instead of moving closer.
“Do you need a doctor?”
“No.”
“Hospital?”
“No.”
“Are you in immediate danger?”
Her eyes moved toward the phone.
“I don’t know.”
That was a yes disguised as uncertainty.
The phone vibrated again.
Derek.
She silenced it.
I asked:
“Ex-boyfriend?”
She swallowed.
“Ex-husband.”
“Does he know where you are?”
“I don’t know.”
Another bad answer.
Then:
“Does Mrs. Morrison know?”
“No.”
“About the injuries?”
“No.”
“About Derek?”
Harper finally looked at me.
“She knows I’m divorced.”
I nodded.
Then:
“What do you want me to do?”
That question confused her more than any order could have.
“What?”
“You asked me not to call anyone. I heard you. What do you need right now?”
Her mouth opened.
Closed.
“I need to work.”
“At twelve-thirty in the morning?”
“I came back because I left supplies.”
That was almost certainly not the whole reason.
Still.
“Fine.”
She bent toward the cloth.
Winced.
I stayed where I was.
Then her phone vibrated again.
This time she looked before silencing.
I saw the preview.
Not the full message.
Enough.
PICK UP. I’M DONE ASKING.
I said:
“Harper.”
She turned the screen down.
“He’s angry.”
“I gathered that.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain whatever part you want me to understand.”
She took a breath.
Then:
“He’s a police officer.”
For several seconds the room became very quiet.
That changed the structure.
Not because every police officer is protected from consequences.
Because Harper clearly believed this one was.
“Boston?”
She nodded.
“Patrol?”
“Yes.”
“On duty tonight?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he have a weapon?”
Her expression changed.
Police officer.
Of course.
“Gabriel.”
First time she used my first name.
Fear can shorten social distance abruptly.
“If you get involved, he will say I came here because of what you are.”
“What am I?”
She almost laughed.
Not funny.
“You know.”
Crime boss.
There it was.
“He’ll say I’m hiding in a criminal’s house.”
“You’re an employee who lives in staff housing.”
“He won’t say that.”
“Courts might.”
“You don’t know Derek.”
“No.”
I looked at the phone.
“But I know what intimidation sounds like.”
Harper shook her head.
“You can’t threaten him.”
“I haven’t.”
“Don’t send anyone.”
“I haven’t.”
“Don’t have someone follow him.”
“I haven’t.”
She watched me.
“Promise.”
That word mattered.
“I promise I will not send anyone to hurt Derek or intimidate him.”
Not:
I’ll do nothing.
Specific.
Harper’s eyes filled.
She looked away.
Then:
“He said if I ever involved someone like you, he’d make sure Noah was taken.”
There.
Noah.
That was the lever.
“What legal relationship does Derek have to Noah?”
“None.”
“Then how?”
Harper closed her eyes.
“He says he doesn’t need one.”
May you like
That sentence told me more about Derek than a name ever could.
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