* * *
TASHA, A DOMESTIC abuse survivor who’d gone through the police academy and was one of Harper’s top agents, met Harper at the door to her office the next morning. Tasha had another hour on shift and would’ve been out on the grounds unless she had a matter of possible importance.
“You asked us to keep you apprised of Miriam Thomas’s actions.” Tasha had been on Miriam’s detail until four that morning. Each member of her staff was doing four-hour rotations.
Unlocking the door to her office, she preceded Tasha inside, dropped her satchel and keys on her desk. “I want to know anything out of the ordinary. Any change in her demeanor. Any friends she makes…” She’d do whatever she could to help Mason get the information he needed to protect his grandmother.
The officer was nodding, her expression pained. If Tasha had made a mistake, at least she’d come to her.
Still, they’d have to deal with that. Mistakes in their business could cost lives.
“I had a stomach upset last night and had to use the restroom. Miriam was in bed asleep and I called Allie over to the bungalow to cover for me. I waited until she arrived and then I hurried on my way. I didn’t double-check Miriam’s room before I turned over my duty.”
That was it? Relief flooded her. For Miriam’s sake. And for Tasha’s, too. She was the best young officer, the most committed, the most clearheaded and the least hesitant, she’d ever had.
“I did the check as soon as I got back,” the officer continued, her concern no less. “Miriam wasn’t there, ma’am.” She met Harper’s gaze head-on.
Immediately on alert, Harper withheld her sharp rebuke at the fact that she was only now hearing about this.
“Allie radioed it in immediately and stayed at the residence while I went out on the grounds. As soon as I stepped outside I saw her, just a few yards from her place, coming up the sidewalk.”
Miriam was fine. Harper took a deep breath. “She walked outside and neither of you saw her?”
The officer looked at her, offering no defense.
“Tasha?”
“I only left my post for those few minutes, ma’am, and I know for certain she didn’t walk out that door while I was there.” That sounded like Tasha. “So you think Allie left the post?”
“I can’t say that. She was there when I went off and she was there when I got back. She swears she didn’t leave the post, either.”
“Where is she now?” Why weren’t the two officers reporting in together?
“She’s on Thomas duty now. Since Mrs. Thomas was fine, just out for a short walk because she couldn’t sleep and was on her way back to the bungalow when I saw her, we didn’t wake you. But I knew you’d want to know the second you got here.”
Nodding, Harper told the officer they’d talk more about the incident later, thanked her for reporting it right away and sent her back to work.
* * *
FIVE MINUTES LATER, after a brief knock, Harper was opening the front door of the bungalow Miriam was sharing with two other women. All three were in the main room, the scent of bacon wafting from the kitchen.
“Miriam, can we go outside for a few minutes, please?”
“I’m making breakfast.”
“We’ll cover for you!” Nancy, a forty-year-old lesbian who’d been abused by her partner, spoke up, motioning toward their housemate Laura, a twenty-year-old who’d run away from an abusive boyfriend, but who’d also been abused as a child.
“I’m making breakfast,” Miriam said again, and then, looking toward Nancy, she added, “But thank you, dear. I appreciate the offer.”
“Ladies, will you excuse us?” Harper spoke to Nancy and Laura.
“Let’s go to the cafeteria for breakfast,” Nancy said to the younger woman, who nodded.
With a harrumph, Miriam went into the kitchen. As soon as the other two were gone, Harper followed her.
“You want to tell me how you got past my officer last night?” She wasn’t going to play games with her. She hadn’t asked Miriam to come to the Stand. Hadn’t asked her to sign a VNL. She was bound by duty—and also because she truly cared—to protect Miriam. But she would not go to war with her.