Page 60 of Luck of the Devil (Harper Adams Mystery #3)

And when I’d cancelled on her for the luncheon, she’d turned to this woman. Nicole Knox had baited the trap and waited for my mother to spring it.

She may have murdered her, but I’d helped lead her there. Even if I hadn’t meant to.

The older woman’s face looked strained. She was pale, and blood dripped steadily from her arm. She was going to need more than her hand to stop the bleeding, but I wasn’t about to offer any help.

As if reading my mind, she gave me a smug smile. “She might still be alive if you’d only let her bring you into her confidence last Tuesday. That’s why she called me, you know. Because you refused to help her.”

“That’s bullshit,” James spat, lifting his head part way. “Sarah Jane had plenty of chances to tell Harper what was goin’ on. But I suspect you convinced her not to.”

The triumphant look in her eyes made my finger twitch on the trigger, but I forced myself to tear it away. I wasn’t done with her yet.

“So you went to her house on Tuesday to help her?” I asked sarcastically. “And after you left, what? You tried to get her to open her bank box, and she refused?”

“She said if the papers left the box, she wouldn’t be the one to remove them,” Nicole said with a sniff.

“By then, she’d realized I’d never planned to help her.

At least not in the way she thought. She started getting suspicious of my persistence.

I’d picked up the Zoloft Paul said he had filled for her, and popped a couple in her drink, hoping I’d get her loopy enough to agree.

” Disgust twisted her face. “She was a stubborn bitch.”

“So you killed her.”

“You think I’m going to admit to that?” she asked with a laugh. “I’m not that stupid.”

“But you had her murdered all the same,” I said. “You drugged her with her own meds, put her behind the wheel of her car, then had your men run her off the road.”

“I’m not admitting to any such thing.” But the proud smile on her face said everything.

“You’re definitely not denying it,” I sneered.

“Which isn’t an admission of guilt,” she countered. “I plead the fifth.”

This woman was gloating about murdering my mother.

“Why capture James?” I asked, gesturing my gun toward him. “I’m the one who has the papers. Not him.”

“My issue with James Malcolm is a separate matter. It was just a lucky coincidence you were both together. Then again, I’m not surprised. I know he’s been snooping around. If he had the documents, it would lead him straight to us.”

I shot a look at James. Did he want me to press her further? He didn’t meet my gaze, but then again, he looked like he was about to pass out.

I had to get him out of here. But I had to figure out what to do with her first.

“You need to free him,” I told her. “Then we’ll talk about what happens to you.”

“What happens to me ?” she laughed. “Oh, you stupid fool. You should be worried about what happens to you after shooting me and my men. And if you even think about killing me, not only will you sign your death sentence, but it will be slow and agonizing.”

“You think whatever you like,” I said. “But right now, you’re going to untie him.”

“Like hell I will,” she sneered. “I’m walking out of here, and you’ll count the days until my son tracks you down and makes you pay for what you’ve done.” Then, like she was the damn Queen of England, she spun around and headed to the front door.

My finger curled over the trigger, and for one vivid moment, I could picture pulling the trigger, her falling to the ground. Getting justice for my mother. The fantasy felt so real I could taste it.

But James lifted his head, his eyes locking with mine. He gave a slow shake of his head. “Let her go.”

Let her go?

The words hit me like a physical blow. She’d practically admitted to murdering my mother—she’d tricked her, drugged her, hit her over the head, and pushed her into the river to drown.

What kind of sick, twisted person could do that?

Now she was walking away, smug as ever, promising her son would come for me next.

“Harper,” James said, his voice firmer this time.

I swung my gaze to him, my hand trembling around the gun. Did he really expect me to let her go? She’d killed my mother! Wasn’t the whole point of this finding out who’d murdered her so I could seek retribution?

“She murdered my mother,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “She murdered my mother and she’s going to get away with it.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “But not like this.”

Not like this?

I sucked in a shaky breath, fury and heartbreak churning in my gut.

What was I doing? This wasn’t how I dealt with criminals. I’d collected evidence and let a judge and jury decided. It wasn’t up to me to decide or dole out punishment.

Even though every part of me burned to do so.

Maybe I could turn the evidence over to Mason Deveraux. Following the evidence trail might keep him busy enough that he’d forget his vendetta against Malcolm. But James would never agree to it. And even if he did, she’d hire expensive attorneys and get away with everything she’d done.

“ Harper .”

His voice was soft and low. Like he knew how hard it was to lower the gun.

Drawing a shaky breath, tears blurred my vision. I slowly let my arm drop. I needed to untie him and get him out of here.

Before I changed my mind about Nicole.

I dropped to my knees in front of him, letting my rifle clatter to the floor. Nicole was almost to the door, walking away like she’d just completed a shopping trip to the mall.

My eyes burned as I blinked and focused on the knot binding his right wrist. Every part of me wanted to go after her and wipe that smug expression off her face with the barrel of my gun.

But I didn’t.

Not yet.

“What the hell happened?” James asked.

I blinked, trying to ground myself. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

The knot was tight and not budging. I bent down and bit it, tugging it until it loosened just enough to wedge my finger underneath.

“In the woods,” he said. “We were running, and the next thing I knew, I was in the back of their car.” His eyes locked on mine, blazing. “I thought they’d killed you.”

“The car explosion worked a little too well,” I muttered. “You hit the ground and got knocked out cold.” I dug my nails in and finally yanked it loose. “I couldn’t wake you up, so I tried to draw them away.” My words turned bitter. “Obviously it didn’t work.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” He tossed the rope onto the floor, then bent down to work on his leg while I tackled the knot on his left arm.

“Are you serious?” I shot another glance at the entrance, half-expecting Nicole or one of her henchmen to burst in and finish what they started. “It doesn’t matter. I botched it. They captured you anyway, and I left a hell of a mess behind.”

He looked up at me, brow raised, waiting for more.

“There’re more than a few dead bodies out there.” The reality of the carnage I’d left hit me center mass. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to explain that.”

His face softened. “Carter’ll take care of it.”

“How can he take care of that ?” Panic crept in. “What if someone saw the fire? What if they called it in?”

He reached up, cupping my cheek with his freed hand. “Deep breath. I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

The tenderness in his voice broke something in me. A tear rolled down my cheek before I could stop it.

He brushed it with his thumb, still watching me. His pupils were slightly dilated, but he was more focused now than he’d been since the crash. “Do you believe me?”

I nodded. Maybe it was like believing in Santa or the Tooth Fairy, but in that moment, I knew he’d burn the world down to keep me safe.

Just like I’d done for him.

“Good,” he said, brushing his lips against my forehead. Then he pulled back. “Let’s finish untying the piss-poor binding job and get the hell out of here.”

“Yeah.” I dragged in a breath. I’d held my shit together this long. Falling apart now wasn’t an option.

I finished untying his left arm, then moved on to his leg. We both worked on the knots in silence, and when we reached the rope around his chest, he lifted his hands to help.

I batted his hands away. “I’ve got it.”

“You scared the hell out of me,” he said, his voice low and husky, as though the last hour was sinking in.

“You scared the hell out of me ,” I shot back, sharper than I meant it.

His jaw flexed. “You were a fool to risk your life for me.”

Anger flared in my chest. “Why? Because you’re not worth saving? Don’t bullshit me, James. You would’ve come for me. Hell, you already did last week.”

I yanked the knot loose, and he pushed the rope off his chest as he rose to his feet. He swayed, and I stepped closer on instinct, ready to catch him if he fell.

“You need to go to an ER,” I said, slipping an arm around his waist as he took an unsteady step. How hard had he hit his head after the blast? And God only knew what kind of damage they’d done tossing him into the SUV.

“No ER.” He took another step, but his knees buckled slightly. I reached out, catching his weight against my side.

“You might be seriously hurt,” I said, my breath catching. “We need to check for intercranial bleeding.”

“We’ll figure it out.” His voice was firmer this time, gritty with pain. “No ER.”

I could’ve thrown him in the car and taken him anyway, but I knew better.

If James Malcolm didn’t want to end up in a hospital, there was a damn good reason.

Still, we needed help. I could only hope he had someone in his network—a private doctor, a medic, or the woman who’d stitched me up last week. Someone off the books but qualified.

We managed a few more stumbling steps. He was leaning on me harder now, almost sagging. Every shift in his weight increased my concern.

He worse than he’s letting on.

As soon as I got him loaded in the car, I was calling Carter. James might not trust hospitals, but I trusted Carter to know how to keep him alive.

I lifted my gaze to the front entrance of the building, now in view.

“How long do you think I have before Gerald Knox comes for me—and my mother’s papers?

” If James was out of commission for even a few days, let alone weeks, we’d have to go into hiding.

But as long as he was conscious and breathing, I knew he wouldn’t let me face this alone.

“He’s comin’ for us , Harper,” he said, turning his head toward me, wincing as pain flashed across his face. “I bet good money he thinks I’m comin’ for him now too.”

My stomach clenched. “This is my fault. You’re only involved because I dragged you into it.”

“Dragged me into it?” he echoed in disbelief. “I shoved my way into it. And let’s not pretend I didn’t make it clear from the start—I was after whatever your mother was hiding.”

I released a hollow laugh. “So now we’re both on Knox’s most-wanted list.”

A dark smile curved his lips. “Let him come. Only we’re not waitin’. We’ll strike first.”

I didn’t know what that looked like, not yet, but I trusted he had a plan.

We’d reached the front door, what was left of it. The glass on one side had been completely blown out. The sedan was gone. A small, twisted part of me had hoped Nicole would still be there so I could finish what I’d started.

“Why did you stop me from shooting her?” I asked.

He pulled me to a halt, turning to face me. “Because she was unarmed.”

“So?” I asked, my voice sharp with a pain I didn’t bother to hide. “She killed my mother, so what if she wasn’t armed?”

He cupped my cheek. “You’re not stooping to her level.”

“I already did,” I whispered, my voice cracking. Images of the men I’d killed came back in violent flashes. “You didn’t see what I did out there.”

“No,” he said gently. “There’s a difference between killing in self-defense … and killing for revenge. You don’t want that dark mark on your soul.”

Like me.

He hadn’t said the words, but they were unmistakable, all the same.

My shoulders stiffened. “If I see her again, I can’t guarantee I won’t kill her.”

His gaze softened with understanding, and a tenderness I still didn’t know what to do with. “Then, for your sake, I hope she’s armed.”