Page 68 of Archer

Harper made a funny face. She pointed to Knox, then Colton. “Off topic, but you both say that. Wicked. But you’re from here,” she told Knox, “and aren’t you from Arizona?” she asked Colton, before turning to me. “Isn’t wicked a New England thing?”

Knox grinned. “That’s a Gunner thing.”

“We spent six years with him overseas. He’s from somewhere outside Boston and he thinks everything is wicked funny,” I said.

“Or wicked smart,” Colton added. “Like this plan.”

Harper smiled.

Colton spun his laptop to face us. A satellite image of the cottage property centered the screen. “What if Harper posts from the deck, which we know is visible from the water? That’s how I assume he’s surveilling the property, now that we’ve learned he has a boat.”

“We’ve got motion sensors here, here, and here.” Colton pointed at the cottage onscreen. “Cameras cover every approach from the beach, and we can monitor those feeds remotely.”

“I’ll take a position here.” Knox tapped the screen. “The dunes will give me a good view of the deck and beach access without being easily visible from the water.”

“And I stay with Harper.” I looked at her across the table. “Within arm’s reach. At all times.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“Non-negotiable,” I said. “You want to be bait? Fine. But I’m the one holding the line.”

She closed her mouth and nodded.

We spent the next hour running through scenarios. What if Webb approached from the water? From the road? What if he waited until dark? What if he brought a weapon?

Harper listened to it all without flinching, answering questions about her social media habits, her posting schedule, the hashtags she and her manager typically used.

“Sunset is a popular time to post,” she said. “Golden hour. Best light for photos.”

“That gives us time to put the plan into action,” Colton said. “Post goes live at five. We’re set up by four.”

“What about the content?” Harper pulled out her phone. “It needs to feel authentic or he’ll suspect something.”

She scrolled through her camera roll, selecting a photo of the deck at sunset. Guitar leaning against the railing, ocean in the background.

“What if I say something like...” She typed quickly into a notes app. “Finding my voice again. The ocean always knows what I need. Sometimes you have to go back to where you started to remember where you’re going.” She turned the phone to Colton.

“Add a music note,” Colton suggested. “You always use those.”

Harper added the suggestion, then showed us the screen.

“Perfect,” Knox said. “Sounds authentically you. Webb will eat it up.”

Her phone buzzed. Harper glanced at the screen. “Alexis’s calling. I should take this.” She stepped onto the deck, sliding the door closed behind her.

Through the window, I watched her pace, phone pressed to her ear. Her free hand gestured as she talked, color high in her cheeks.

“I like her,” Knox said quietly.

Me too.

“She’s tough and she’s handling all of this with a lot more grace and patience than I’ve ever had.” I angled to keep her in my sight as we talked. “Webb probably assumes she’s weak, because she’s so cute and small. He has no idea what he’s up against.”

Colton snorted. “Yeah, and he definitely doesn’t know you. Guy’s going to walk right into a buzz saw.”

I grinned.

Harper came back inside, expression tight. “The label’s giving me until Friday.” She sat heavily in her chair. “Come back to Nashville or they’re terminating my contract.”