Page 31 of Three Steps Behind

She looked up to meet his eyes. “We?”

“I’m walking beside you through thick and thin. Through whatever it takes.”

That sounded like quite the commitment for the guy who never made their relationship romantic. But that was the difference. This wasn’t romantic. He was offering as a friend, and while she longed for more—as she’d discovered in Syria over the previous three months—she still deeply appreciated the overture.

He stepped back and took his warmth with him. She ached to be back in his arms, but best not to push it or her body’s reflexive reactions.

“Ready?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes. Were his arms trembling? She shook her head. Probably seeing things again. “There’s one more thing I want to check before we leave.” She bolted back into the sitting room, and he tilted his head. “Come on.” She waved him in.

“What are we doing?”

She moved for the “gossip seat,” an antique piece with a sitting area and small table. It had a pop-out drawer where Taylor kept her private things. Harper bent under the piece, wiggling up the base of the hidden drawer.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.” She wriggled the latch, the drawer slid out—and it wasn’t empty.

She tugged out a linen envelope and a small journal-sized notebook. Standing, she tucked them into her bag.

“Aren’t you going to look at them?”

“After we’re out of here. I don’t trust Nick to be gone very long, and I don’t want him walking in seeing me with a letter and Tay’s journal.”

“Gotcha.”

She took one last look around, soaking up the memories—the good ones of chats and laughter, and the hard ones with Taylor in tears over a suspected affair, though Nick had denied it and she’d never been able to confirm it. But Taylor’s gut served her well. If Harper were a betting woman, she would wager on Taylor over Nick any day.

Fourteen

RETURNING TO THEIR CAR, Harper and Deck pulled down the drive, and her taut shoulders eased as they approached the gate, but she tapped her foot in rapid fashion while they waited for it to open. Finally the gate swung open, and Nick’s black Lexus pulled parallel to Deck’s truck on the other side.

Had they been there that long, or had Nick returned that fast? She glanced at her watch. Definitely fast. Hmm. Odd.

Nick powered down his window. “That took you a while.”

“She had so many dresses and a lot of jewelry to go through.”

“She sure did.” A soft smile curled on his Nick’s lips.

“You had a quick game?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

He sniffed and swiped his nose. “Just not up to it yet. It’s only been a few days since she passed.”

Huh. Maybe she was being too hard on the guy.

“See you later.” He raised his hand in a wave as he wound up the circular drive.

Deckard pulled out onto the street, banking left. Once out of view of the house, he gave her a quick sideways glance. “So what’s in the letter?”

“Right.” Pulling the envelope out of the bag, she found it sealed. Opening it, she slid the letter out, and three photographs tumbled into her lap.

“What are they of?” Deck asked.

She flipped them over and sat back, surprise riddling through her. “Nick and another woman.” She held up the first of the photographs with Nick kissing the other woman.

“That’s definitely not Taylor, based on the photographs in the house of Nick and a blond woman—who I’m assuming was Taylor.”