The Wrong Side of Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

Harper.” Thank God , she thought. “Not all of them are innocent, you know. And with your luck, you’ll get bunked with a guy named Bruno who’s just waiting for you to drop the soap.”
    “Thanks for the visual.” He sat up and leaned forward. “You’re not exactly helping.”
    “Then give me something. I thought we trusted each other.”
    “Trust isn’t your strong suit, Jess. Who are you kidding? But I respect your privacy. Why can’t you do the same for me?” he pleaded.
    “Because being arrested for murder ranks a little higher than sneaking a peek in your diary, my friend.”
    Jess knew she’d be treading on thin ice if they continued to talk about trust and privacy. Harper had her pegged. A change in subject was in order.
    “So where are you staying now? You noticed I used the word ‘staying.’ You like to keep your toiletries bag packed, ready so you can jump.”
    “I’m not giving you that.”
    “You’ve given me your addresses before, why not now?” When he stalled, she made a leap in logic. “Who are you protecting, genius?”
    “I won’t drag innocent people into this mess. So please drop it.” He raised his voice for the first time. “I got myself into this. Me, alone. And I’m not protecting anyone ’cause no one else knows what happened. Hell, not even me.”
    He wasn’t making much sense, and by the look on his face, he knew it, too. She needed another way under his defense mechanism.
    “Look, let’s start from the beginning. Tell me what you do remember,” she said, then smirked. “And if it helps, picture me looking like a wart or some insidious skin rash. I’m not going away until you do something about it. Do us both a favor and throw me a bone, Harper.”
    Not even the skin-rash analogy worked. Her best material. He tightened the arms across his chest, his body language not telling her anything she didn’t already know. But eventually he loosened up, ran a hand through his dark hair, and started to talk.
    “I recall making a note of Dirty Monty’s, a bar on the South Side. But I can’t remember if I actually made it there.”
    She knew the joint. A sleazy bar that wasn’t Seth’s style. She had a feeling someone else would have made the suggestion. Jess tried picturing who could have gotten Harper to do it, and the extent of her wild machinations only reminded her how little she knew of the guy sitting across from her. Harper’s life was clouded in mystery, and he liked it that way. As much as she wanted to believe she’d broken into his inner circle, she hadn’t even scratched the surface in understanding what made him tick.
    But having the name of the bar was more than the cops had. And that gave her a place to start poking around.
    “You gave me the blue monster for safekeeping, and I appreciate the loan. That old van has grown on me.” She smiled. “But what are you driving these days?”
    “A ’65 Mustang. I’m restoring it, but I’ve got a long way to go.” He stopped, probably considering the odds of him finishing his restoration project.
    Murder had a way of mucking things up.
    “What does my car have to do with this?” he added.
    “Tracking it down might help establish where you went that night. Just another piece to the puzzle, that’s all.”
    “Damn it! I hate this.” He drew a hand through his hair. “I’ve racked my brain trying to remember anything, but it’s all a blank. I can’t tell the cops or you what I don’t know, not even to help myself.”
    His frustration was showing, and he looked exhausted.
    “What…you had some kind of blackout? From what?” She pushed him for more. When he didn’t reply right away, she leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “If you don’t have a plausible story, the cops won’t buy this convenient flare-up of amnesia. Memory loss doesn’t just come and go like a bad case of zits, Harper.”
    “I don’t know, Jessie.” He shook his head, looking dazed as he tried to