He nodded. Her description had been spot on for what the woman would have looked like when she had been alive. He believed without a doubt it was who Norah was talking about.
“Oh no.” Tears started streaming down her face again as she followed Harley into the living room. She tried not to vomit when the stench of death filled her lungs, and did her best to ignore the lifeless body under what had once been the throw on the back of her couch.
She walked into the laundry room and shoved the dryer to the side to lift a loose floorboard. Harley watched as she shakily entered a code into the safe that had been hidden there.
She pulled out a few thousand in cash and then a black velvet box, which she eyed with disgust.
“Let’s go,” Gerry said, and urged them to move.
Norah put herself on autopilot and let Harley drag her down the fire escape and into a car where Marissa waited. She stared out her window and said a silent apology to Reagan.
Reagan had been her only friend in a world full of fakes. The only person she could count on to be there when she needed someone to talk to. She pictured the vibrant woman who wore the green contact lenses because it had been her favorite color. She hadn’t deserved to die, she hadn’t even known anything. How had they even found her? Or had she found them?
Any ounce of feeling she had left seemed to evade her. She could only think of Reagan and how unfair it was that she had been the one to die.
“It should have been me,” Norah muttered, and felt Harley grip her hand.
He pulled her out of the car and before she knew it he was closing a bedroom door behind her.
“It should have been me,” she repeated, and looked him in the eye.
“What do you mean?” He brushed a strand of wet hair from her face.
“If I had died that night at the banquet, they never would have been able to get to Reagan. She would never have showed up at my apartment, because I know she did it to check on me, since I hadn’t shown up to the shelter. That, and I’m sure the shooting was all over the news with them blaming us for it. She was a good person, Harley.” Norah’s eyes filled with tears again, and Harley pulled her into his arms.
“It shouldn’t have been you, Norah,” he said quietly. “It shouldn’t have been her either. No one should have died.” He pushed her away slightly to look in her eyes. “Her death isn’t on you, it’s on Clayton.”
“Did she suffer?”
Harley thought of the wounds that had covered the young woman’s body. She had suffered a great deal before she died, but he knew he couldn’t tell Norah that.
“No,” he said simply, and pulled her in again. He would eat that lie, he thought to himself. Adding more guilt on Norah’s shoulders wouldn’t bring Reagan back. Harley knew that the only thing that would bring Norah some peace now was making sure Clayton paid for what he had done.
* * *
HARLEY HELD NORAH in his arms until she fell asleep. He laid her gently on the bed and then covered her with a blanket. He stood and watched her for a moment and thanked God for Marissa’s contact and their resources. If it hadn’t been for them, they never would have found her.
“How is she?” Gerry whispered when Harley shut the door gently behind her.
“About as good as you can expect. In one day she was in a serious car accident, killed two men, discovered her abusive bastard ex-fiancé is not actually dead, and found her best friend’s body in her laundry room.”
“Yeah, I’d say that’s a hell of a day.”
“Yeah. Something like that,” Harley said, and followed Gerry down the stairs. “Got any Scotch?” he asked him when they emerged in the kitchen.
“Got you,” Marissa said as she poured three glasses.
“Thanks.” Harley picked up his glass and turned it up, enjoying the burn as the Scotch traveled down his throat.
“There are some things we need to talk about,” Gerry said, and headed for the living room.
Harley followed, and was grateful to see a fire roaring in the fireplace. “What is it?” he asked as he took a seat on the couch across from the chair Gerry sat in.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Gerry said, and Harley caught the glare Marissa shot his way.
“That’s an understatement,” she grumbled, and took another drink of her Scotch.
“Not fair,” Gerry said to her, and then turned his attention back to Harley. “I have a daughter.”
Harley eyed him warily. “Okay.”
“I actually hadn’t even met my daughter until recently. She doesn’t know who I am.”
“How recently?” Harley could see where this conversation was going, and he didn’t understand why Gerry had waited until Norah was asleep to tell him.
“When you and Norah came to my house.”
Harley sat back and studied Gerry’s face. He could see the similarities, sure— their eyes were the same color and shape. How had he missed it before? “Norah’s your daughter.”
“Bingo!” Marissa shouted, and took another drink.
“Quiet, woman!” Gerry scolded her, and then turned his attention back to Harley.
“Norah told me her parents abandoned her. It’s why she grew up in shelters.”
“Her mother and I were never together officially. It was a one-weekend stand when I was in town for work. She and I had a fling and then I never spoke to her again. It wasn’t until Norah had turned eighteen that I found out who she was. By then, she was an adult and already had been on her own for years.”
Gerry shook his head, and Harley could see the regret in his eyes. “I looked her mother up when I was back in town—not really sure why; I suppose I was just curious. Angie had known who I was and had put me up whenever I was in. Even when we weren’t sleeping together,” he added, staring at Marissa. “I found out she was dead, but that she had a daughter. I did the math, and when I got a look at her I knew it was right.”
“Why not go to her, Gerry? She grew up alone.”
“I was afraid. A pretty shitty reason, I know. But I was damn scared for many different reasons, and only one of them was the people I had worked for. Shortly after that, they burned Marissa, and I wasn’t able to contact her anyways.”
“This is the good part,” Marissa whispered, and shot Gerry a glare.
“What’s the good part?”
“Tom Hewitt is the man who burned us.”
“Tom? You worked for Tom?”
Gerry nodded. “Sort of. We worked for his father, who was a good man. When Tom took the company over after his death was when things started going south. Marissa and I were compiling evidence against him when he burned us.”
“This is just fucking brilliant.” Harley ran his hands through his hair. “So I was a pawn in your fucking game too, huh? What, you discovered that I knew Tom and you used me to get to him?”
“That’s why I showed up in that bar, yes. But I could tell from the minute I met you that you are a good man, Harley. Then I decided I wanted to help you if you ever needed it, to make sure Tom didn’t dig his dirty fingers into you the way he tried us.”
“Isn’t that just a big bag of coincidences!” Marissa slurred loudly.