Behind the Walls Read Online Free PDF Page B

Harper, kept his eyes on the wreck.
    Harper didn’t answer. But he was right; it was a hell of a thing.
    Finally, the man turned to her. ‘Angus Langston.’
    Langston. One of the professor’s sons? Angus held out his right hand. As if introducing himself at a social function.
    Harper shook the hand. It was large and lean, smooth-skinned. ‘Harper Jennings.’
    Police and EMTs huddled around Zina’s body.
    ‘So, Ms Harper Jennings, they tell me you’re the one who found this? You called it in?’
    Harper nodded.
    He nodded, silently watching the scene. After a while, he looked at her. ‘Well, if you don’t mind my asking, Ms Jennings, what exactly brought you here to this spot this morning?’
    Harper opened her mouth to reply, but Angus continued. ‘Being as this is private property. A private road. Which would make you a trespasser.’
    Wow. Harper’s mouth was still open. She closed it, stunned. Zina was dead, her body still crumpled beside battered blue metal, and this guy was bothering her about her presence on his property? Slowly, deliberately, she stood to her full five foot three-and-almost-a-half inches, assumed an officer’s stance.
    ‘You live here, Mr Langston?’ She used her most authoritative military voice. Had to arch her neck to meet his eyes. ‘In the professor’s house?’
    Her tone surprised him; he took an instinctive step back. ‘No, I stay in the cottage. But where I sleep isn’t your concern. The house and property belong to me and my brothers.’ He shifted his weight, eyed her. Lost some bluster. Looked away.
    ‘Look, I’m aware that this is private property,’ Harper continued. ‘But I am not trespassing. I was invited here.’
    His eyebrows rose. ‘Really. Because I sure don’t remember inviting you. And I doubt my brother invited you—’
    ‘Actually, I was invited by the woman over there.’
    Angus crossed his arms. ‘Well, that’s interesting. Because the fact is, that woman didn’t have the right to invite anyone here. It’s bad enough she was here, wandering around. Which by the way, she didn’t have the right to do. Now she’s brought you. Next, everyone and his uncle Fred will be here.’
    ‘Hey, Mrs Jennings? Harper?’
    Harper turned. Saw a face from the past. Detective Charlene Rivers. She shut her eyes, opened them again. Still saw the detective approaching, walking across the road. Not a flashback. Rivers was actually there. Oh God. Memories swirled: a student jumping out of a window. Another, dead on her front porch  . . .
    ‘I saw your Ninja over there.’ Rivers smirked. ‘I thought I was done dealing with you.’
    Harper nodded. ‘Good to see you, too, Detective.’ She rubbed her eyes, pushing away bloody memories. She hadn’t had contact with the Rivers since that debacle with stolen drugs over a year ago.
    ‘Who’s your friend?’ Rivers eyed Angus Langston who introduced himself just as another news van pulled up the road.
    ‘Aw, hell,’ he scowled. ‘Who the fuck let them on the grounds? Doesn’t anyone understand the words “private property”? What’s next? Rock bands? Concession stands? What is this, goddam Woodstock?’ He stomped off toward the television van.
    ‘Friendly guy.’ Rivers watched him, turned to Harper. ‘So tell me. What are you doing here? You know the victim?’
    Wait, the ‘victim’? Harper drew a breath. Looked across the road to the empty coroner’s gurney awaiting Zina’s body. And, as she began to answer, remembered that Detective Rivers was in homicide.
    What was a homicide detective doing at the scene of a car accident?
    Rivers and Harper walked along the road, heads down, voices low, as Harper summarized the events of the night before. Gravel crunched underfoot; the air smelled of dry leaves. ‘So basically, you’re saying that your friend was afraid for her life?’
    ‘I guess. But she wasn’t entirely rational, at least not at first. She thought a Nahual was after her. But Nahuals