Page 56 of Three Steps Behind

“I figured from the grimace on your face this morning when you saw them kissing.” She paused a moment, then studied him. “Do you not like them together?”

“It’s not that.” He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s just . . .”

“Just?” The curiosity remained in her eyes, and he smiled, praying it remained not just during their conversation but throughout the case. The more he could keep her mind engaged, perhaps the quicker she’d heal.

Please, Lord, I know you have your timing, and I have no idea what all Harp went through, but please make her whole again.

“It’s just—she’s my baby sister.” He tapped the wheel. “If she’s going to be with anyone, I’m glad it’s Grey, but she’s still my baby sister.”

“I get that,” she said, shifting to face the road as he switched on the wipers—thick snowflakes falling.

The snow mixed with sleet before they arrived at Amber Gables.

The guard, in full winter gear, stepped out of the shack next to the gate with a clipboard. “Can I help you folks?” He narrowed his eyes, studying their faces. “Are you members here?”

Deck reached for his badge, hoping that would suffice.

“Yes, sir,” Harper said, surprising him.

She hadn’t mentioned it earlier, but she’d said she knew Brookes, so that made sense.

“It’s been a while,” Harper continued. “I’m Frank and Gladys Grace’s daughter.”

“Miss Harper. Good to see you,” the guard said.

“You too, Luke,” she greeted him back. “We’re here to see Brookes.”

“Everything okay, Miss Harper?” he asked, grasping the clipboard tighter in his gloved hands.

“Yes, sir.”

His eyes remained narrowed, concern fixed on his brow. “You’ll find Brookes on the inner courts.” He lifted the cuff of his jacket sleeve and checked his watch. “His lesson should be finished in five. He always ends on the hour.”

“Thank you.” She nodded as he opened the gate.

“So where are we headed?” Deck asked, shifting the truck back into drive.

“The courts are in a white rec building beyond those two brick ones.” She pointed at the meticulously snowplowed and de-iced hill.

“This place is huge.” He noted what had to be an immense, albeit snow-covered, golf course. Around the bend, two rows of golf carts sat parked under a covered shelter.

“That building,” Harper said, gesturing to an expansive, gym-like metal structure. But it held details he’d never seen on a gym—a wide front porch around the entirety of the massive building with a line of white rocking chairs across it.

“Park over there.” Harper indicated the side lot. “We can head in that door. It’ll take us straight to the courts.”

“Sounds good.” He pulled into a cleared parking spot and cut the ignition. “You said you know Brookes? Outside of Taylor, I mean?” That could be a big help—set the man at ease with familiarity before pummeling him with questions.

“I took lessons with him as a teen and occasionally played doubles with Taylor, Brookes, and one of his buddies.”

“Gotcha.” Could be helpful indeed.

They entered the building, and a tepid warmth greeted them.

“Tennis courts are on the end.” Harper led the way.

Deck checked out the racquetball and handball courts through the glass doors lining the long hall as they made their way toward Brookes.

Harper stopped at the end of the line.