Page 99 of Paranoid

“Still working on that.”

“But Harper’s okay?”

“Yeah. Didn’t I just say that? She’s gonna be okay.”

“Fuck.” He was already starting his truck while dread seeped through his guts. “I’ll be there in ten.”

He made it in seven and parked half a block away from the school complex as the street was cordoned off. Police cars, lights flashing, blocked one entrance to the street, while another was barricaded at the far corner. In between, taking up a full city block, was the St. Augustine property and the two-story building owned by his father. Only a parking lot separated the two. An older Jeep had been parked against the aging plank fence while two rescue vehicles had been backed to the gate.

What the devil had Harper gotten herself into?

Cade was out of his truck in an instant and running to a spot where a huge gate to the school yard hung open, the chain that had held it closed now broken.

Inside the complex, he found Nowak huddled with several other people, one he recognized as his own daughter. “What the hell happened here?” he demanded and Harper seemed to shrink. Xander Vale, one arm draped over Harper’s shoulders, stood rigid, his face white, his demeanor grim.

“Daddy!” Harper flung herself into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Shh. It’s okay,” he said, holding her close, knowing he was lying. Whatever had happened here, it was not okay. Definitely not okay.

“But I saw it. I saw her . . . oh, God! It’s horrible!”

“Shh. Slow down.” Wrapping his arms around her, he breathed into her hair. “It’ll be all right, just calm down, okay?” He waited for her body to quiet, the sobs to slow, the tears to stem.

“But she’s dead. She’s dead.” Harper was shaking. “They couldn’t save her.” Crying, hiccuping, and sobbing nearly hysterically, Harper clung to him. “We tried to save her. We did. Really. Xander cut her down. But it was too late.” Her voice was a squeak, and as Cade held her, he stared over Harper’s head to Vale, whose jaw was clenched. Though Vale appeared to wish he was anywhere else in the whole damned world, he stood his ground while other police personnel and rescue workers moved through the dark school yard. Their flashlight beams cut swaths of illumination over the mounds of dirt and broken equipment.

Cade’s gaze narrowed on Vale. “What happened?”

“It’s like she said—”

“From the beginning,” Cade cut in, and the kid stiffened.

“These two,” Nowak said, hooking a finger at Harper and Xander, “heard moaning, came to investigate, and ended up finding a woman hanging upside down from the ropes of the bell tower. Gruesome, just like she said. Look, I called Voss, too. She’s inside.”

“Good.”

“I figured—”

“That because my kid found the body, someone with a little more perspective should be involved.”

“Yeah.”

Cade didn’t blame him.

Protocol. No blurred lines. Not like Ned Gaston handling a case involving his stepson and daughter.

Nonetheless he needed answers. Cade stared straight at Vale. “I want to hear it from you. Start with how you got here.”

“It’s my fault,” Vale said.

“Your fault?” Hell, was the kid going to confess?

“Whoa. Not about what happened, but that we’re here,” the kid clarified, obviously stricken at his choice of words. He held up a hand. “I mean it’s my fault because I talked Harper into sneaking out. We met at the corner of Height and Grange a little after midnight, I think. We texted and I picked her up and brought her up to . . . to my apartment.” He hooked a finger to the building next door where the law offices of Charles H. Ryder were housed.

Cade felt sick inside. He knew that apartment. Well.

“We just got there when we heard something, someone crying for help. So we came over here, climbed the fence, and found her in the chapel. She was hanging facedown and . . . suffering.”

“It was awful!” Harper said, her voice high.