Page 91 of Between Steel and Secrets
“I believe you,” I say, nodding. “But we can’t go to the police. Not if you used that gun.” I nod toward the weapon on the floor.
“Why not?” Her glassy eyes meet my stare.
“Because that same gun was used to kill Massimo DeLuca. If you go to the police and turn in that weapon, you’ll be sending me to prison for life. My DNA is all over the murder weapon.”
Her gaze lowers as she turns and stares at his lifeless body on the floor. How the hell are we going to lug him out, dispose of him, and get rid of all the evidence?
“I’d never want to hurt you,” she whispers.
“Good, then you know that we can’t go to the police.”
She shakes her head, her brow tightening as her jaw trembles and she’s fighting back tears. “No.” There’s desperation in her tone, fear, and something else.
“They’ll lock me away, Harper. If they connect the dots and realize that weapon has been used in a previous killing?—”
“I wouldn’t do that. I won’t.” Harper swallows, a frown etched across her face. “You don’t trust me.”
“I trust you, it’s why I told you the truth about Massimo.” I hadn’t wanted to tell her, and it had only been days ago that I’d fully come clean about it, but the truth was still in her hands to do with as she sees fit.
She could have me arrested and locked up for murder.
Her brow is tight, and she grabs my arm, imploring me with that look of utter determination. “I won’t risk your life, Luca, not after everything you’ve done for me.”
I slide my hand into hers, giving it a reaffirming squeeze. We’re in this together.
“Tell me what I have to do,” she says.
A prominent knock taps roughly against the front door.
Her eyes widen and she glances at the deceased’s body on the floor.
“Go shower,” I tell her, pointing at the bathroom.
She’ll have to walk past the dead body, but she needs to rid herself of the evidence, and right now, she’s still caked in blood.
Wordlessly, she nods and heads to the bathroom, her eyes focusing on the dead body on the floor.
Another firm knock on the door.
I can’t hear who is on the other end, but I want Harper out of those bloody clothes. She’s not going to help anyone if she answers the door covered in gore.
Zeke sniffles and takes another lick of his popsicle. His face is red, rosy, and I try and cheer him up while his mom showers.
Another, more persistent knock, and whoever is at the front door isn’t going away.
“It’s too soon to be my dad,” Nova says, glancing at her phone.
“Open up, Evergreen University Police!”
* * *
To Be Continued.
