Chapter 10
Driving soothed some of her fraying anxiety though Harper internally cringed at every friendly wave. Everybody round here had secrets: drug addiction, infidelity, less that legal side hustles, and Harper was privy to them all. At least the ones who’d sought treatment. The hypocrisy felt uncomfortably heavy around her neck.
The drive to her destination proved uneventful, save for a sleek black SUV with tinted windows passing her going back to town. Wheels that fine weren’t too common around here. Of course it could’ve been those federal agents Joseph warned her about, but Harper didn’t let the fear root too deep. However it was enough for her to alter course. Finding the access road to a now defunct hiking trail, Harper pulled in, locked up her truck, and disappeared into the trees, her destination the old Nelson house.
Hans stared ahead, displeased with this new wrinkle to his less than stellar plan. It was a fool’s dream to expect otherwise. But he was a dynamic tactician and couldn’t deny this… working interview with Harper Slaughter had taken an interesting turn. Theo drove, traversing the road with the speed of an elderly woman. Hans suspected his own grandmother could drive faster.
A silver pickup passed them in the opposite direction, its driver more confident, hanging a turn to a road behind them, close to their hideout. Hans only needed a split-second to confirm the driver was the object of his attention, affection, obsession… he wasn't quite sure which.
“It’s her!”
Theo flicked his gaze to the passenger seat, obviously unhappy. “It’s gonna have to wait, boss. I can’t flip a U-turn here.”
“Find somewhere you can,” Hans ground out, committing the area she disappeared into to memory.
Fortunately they were in luck, utilizing a runaway truck ramp to turn around. Hans called Karl with an update to their plans, who only grunted in reply before hanging up.
They found Harper’s truck, it’s engine still ticking as it cooled. Theo stayed behind the wheel as Hans canvassed the immediate area, mindful of his footsteps in the snow. There was only one other set, deep ridges indicative of footwear well suited for the elements, leading into the trees.
“She ain’t here, man,” Theo called, sticking his head out the window. “Maybe she wanted some time alone in nature.”
Hans didn’t listen, following her tracks up a ways before they disappeared as if she were nothing more than a ghost. Huffing like an angry bull, Hans winced at the twinge of pain. Theo was wrong, she was on a mission and Hans desperately wanted to know why. But Dr. Slaughter’s orders drifted through his mind. Loathe as he was to admit, Hans couldn’t chase her down in his current condition. Groaning at the mud freezing to the cuffs of his Italian tailored trousers, he returned to the car.
“Take me to her house,” Hans growled, not accustomed to the taste of defeat. “Then you will uncover any information you can on Dr. Harper Slaughter.”
By her calculations, the Nelson house was about five miles away. Harper wasn’t sure what position old man Nelson held in the Moonshine King’s court, nor did she inquire about his disappearance. That was the beauty of the area, people came and went as they pleased and nobody asked questions.
A perverse giddiness coursed through her veins as she regained her bearings. The fresh air did her some good. Pine with hints of decaying moss and dirt tickled her nose, evoking memories of successful searches and exciting heists. Never did Harper think she’d return to her roots like this in an attempt to save her own hide.
Another problem percolated in her mind. Assuming she proved successful and removed all traces of her part in the Moonshine King’s crimes, she’d still made a fatal error. What possessed her to tell Hans, a stranger, a patient, her deepest secret? Had Joseph’s impending death kickstarted a subconscious wave of guilt? Did she want to be caught?
No.
No, it wasn’t that. Beneath Hans’ genteel veneer laid a sense of danger that spoke to her on a deeper level. He moved through life freely, unencumbered by the social constructs Harper fought against. He wasn’t expected to settle down and pop out a couple of well-behaved children. He could travel, do what he wanted at his leisure. A life Harper wished to have.
Sloping down into the next valley, Harper searched for her next landmark. Most of the mines had been boarded up, too unstable for the harsh demands of extracting black gold. During the Prohibition period old moonshiners rediscovered the mines and repurposed them for a new trade. At least until the Feds put an end to that too. Harper’s daddy was a history teacher at the local community college, his interest being those mines. And eventually Harper’s. She never disclosed those maps to the Moonshine King, though Harper suspected he knew of their existence. Paper maps were evidence, memorized maps locked in the mind couldn’t be proved.
Spying the rotted boards warped with years of exposure at the base of the next hill, Harper dropped to her knees. It took some effort to pull the door open, but it creaked on rusty hinges. Now came the easy part, following the tunnel to the old Nelson house and not get lost.
Twenty minutes later, the trapdoor to the Nelson’s basement came into view. Few knew of its existence. Harper breathed a sigh of relief, she still had it. But her luck ran out. The damn thing wouldn’t budge.
Grunting, Harper climbed the rickety ladder and pressed her back against the boards. Cobwebs tangled in her hair followed by a spider skittering across the nape of her neck. Suppressing a shiver, Harper picked at the sediment packed into the seams with a knife as she pushed. Dirt rained down on her, but she won the battle.
The cellar was dark as Harper expected. What she did not expect to see was a pile of silver suitcases, one of which knocked open as a result of her furtive entry. Lowering the beam of light, Harper saw pages of paper. Crouching, she got a closer look. They were official documents of some kind.
“Holy fuck,” Harper muttered, thankful for the gloves. In her hand was a $100,000 bearer bond. And by the looks of it, there was a lot more. Not only was the Nelson house occupied, it housed another illegal operation. Despite herself, Harper chuckled at the irony. But whatever was currently going on wasn’t her business. All she wanted was the ledger and she was running on borrowed time.
The basement held nothing else of interest, well her interest anyways. Was Joseph wrong? He said it’d be in the basement. Methodically, she worked her way through the house, growing increasingly unnerved. Somebody was staying here. A card on the kitchen table wishing comfortable stay explained that part at least. The Nelson home, a once once valuable stronghold of the Moonshine King’s empire, now reduced to a vacation rental. Perhaps it too couldn’t outrun its sordid past.
Two of the rooms upstairs were evidently occupied, one of which containing a small arsenal of serious weapons, but neither held what she sought.
Exasperated, Harper entered the master suite. It had to be here. She riffled through the chest of drawers, noting whoever owned these clothes had luxurious taste. A man, if the expensive briefs were any indication. Unsatisfied, Harper then looked through the bedside table and under the mattress.
Nothing.
Throwing her head back in exasperation, Harper stared at the ceiling. One of the dusty tile panels sat crooked.
Jackpot.
Hoping the bedside table wouldn’t snap under her weight, Harper climbed and slid the panel over. Reaching blindly, she patted the empty space, eventually bumping what felt like a book. In her excitement, Harper knocked a glass cologne bottle. As she raked through the pages looking for her name, two things happened. One, she found the evidence Joseph warned her about, and two, she recognized the now overpowering rich scent. It belonged to her mysterious patient, Hans.
Wasting no time, Harper tore through the house back to the basement, proof of her damnation clutched to her chest. She made it back to her truck in record time, suddenly very tired, wanting nothing more than to go home and wash away the stench of her crime and discovery.
“Uh, Hans. You might want to see this.”
Hans accepted the cellphone, rewinding the live feed of their safe house. He made a mental note to give Theo a raise, his insistence they set up those tiny camera throughout the house now giving him the leverage he needed. Restarting the video, he watched Harper emerge from their basement before sneaking through the house, an adorable thief if there ever was one. She also had a gun tucked in her waistband. Something about the sight aroused Hans.
Understandably, Karl was pissed, barely placated with the knowledge whatever she stole wasn’t theirs to begin with. Theo refused to see beyond the new hole in their defenses. Hans once again stood at a dangerous crossroads. Karl had no qualms killing the doctor now that he had a reason, he had to work fast.
“Both of you return to the house.” Hans extended his hand to Karl for his one of his firearms. “I wish to have this conversation alone.”
Hans sat in the shadows of Harper’s living room, the only sound the faint ticking of a clock on the wall. He’d chosen his seat deliberately: a small, nondescript chair just beyond the reach of the dim light from a single lamp next to her wall of books. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of rain-soaked wood that clung to his coat. He had a feeling he wouldn’t wait long.
He leaned back in the chair, his fingers steepled, his mind racing despite the calm façade he projected. A small-town doctor with ties to a fallen moonshine empire? A woman desperate enough to act yet stubborn enough to do it alone? And now she’d tangled herself in his web.
He shouldn’t want her, but he did.
The door creaked open. Hans straightened but didn’t rise, letting her hesitant steps announce her arrival. Her silhouette appeared in the doorway, shoulders hunched with tension, her breath unsteady. He heard her shed her coat followed by a pause. She sensed something amiss.
“You’ve had a long day,” Hans called smoothly, his voice carrying through the stillness. “I understand we’re in your home, but can I get you something to drink?”
Harper spun toward him, her hand instinctively clenching around …a book? Her face was pale but flushed at the cheeks, her hair damp from the rain. “Hans?” she asked, exhaustion dulling the edge of her tone.
“Me again,” he replied, rising slowly. “I trust your venture was…productive?”
“Get out,” she said, her voice sharp but wavering.
Hans took a deliberate step forward, his movements slow, calculated. For her, Hans would be patient. “Not until we’ve spoken. You’ve been busy, Harper. I’d like to know why.”
She stepped back, putting more distance between them. “You don’t get to demand answers from me.”
“Demand? No,” he said, his tone softening. “But I suspect you’ll want to tell me regardless.”
“Why would I do that?” she snapped, though her voice trembled.
Hans didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he closed the gap between them, stopping just short of her personal space. He let his gaze linger on hers, widening the cracks beneath her defiance.
“Because you’re drowning,” he said softly. “And I can pull you out.”
Her lips parted in protest, but no words came. He reached out slowly, his hand brushing against hers. She flinched but didn’t step away.
“Go ahead,” he murmured, his fingers grazing hers with maddeningly featherlight touches. “Ask me about what you saw.”
“The bearer bonds,” she whispered, her composure stretched to the limit. “How’d you know about that house?”
“A stroke of luck, nothing more, ” Hans chuckled, his gaze steady on hers. “But I assume your knowledge of its access point is due to your connection with the fabled Moonshine King”
Her breathing quickened, incorrectly interpreting Hans’ presence in her home. “I didn’t steal the money. Don’t kill me.”
“Kill you? Absolutely not.” Hans tilted his head, studying her. “However, this puts me in a precarious position, Harper.”
“I can keep a secret. Just please leave.”
“Perhaps there’s another option. One you haven’t considered.” Hans hated what he was about to say, but she also had to understand the stakes. “Mind you, I could always call Officer Brad to report your trespass.”
“You wouldn’t,” Harper bristled, the fire returning to her eyes.
“I don’t want to,” Hans countered silkily, enjoying this dance far too much. “All I want is for you to listen. Can you do that?”
The silence stretched between them, taut and charged. He could see the war behind her eyes—trust versus suspicion, desire versus defiance. She must hate him for cornering her, but something simmered below the surface.
“You don’t understand.” Her voice trembled, Harper firmly believing this was her end.
“Then help me,” he replied, his voice quiet but firm. “Help me understand.”
She shook her head, her hands trembling as she folded her arms tightly across her chest, the book fallen to the ground now forgotten, as she tried to keep it together.
It was then, watching her shoulders slump under the invisible weight, that Hans made his decision. Cautiously, he stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching a frightened animal.
“Harper,” he said gently, his voice barely above a whisper.
She didn’t look up. “What?”
He hesitated for the briefest moment, his arms itching to reach for her even as his mind warned him against it. But then, with a quiet sigh, he crossed the final step between them and rested a hand on her shoulder. The contact made her flinch, and he felt the tension coiled in her body like a drawn bowstring. But she didn’t pull away.
Encouraged by her silence, Hans moved closer, his other arm sliding cautiously around her back. Slowly, he withdrew her pistol, not particularly wanting another trip to the emergency room. The embrace was tentative, his grip loose enough to allow her to pull away if she wished.
But she didn’t.
“Where you see fear, I see an opportunity,” he soothed, his chin hovering just above the crown of her head. “Tell me your troubles then I will tell you a story of my own.”
Harper let out a shaky breath, her forehead dropping to his chest. The movement was so slight he almost didn’t notice, but it was enough to make him tighten his hold, just barely.
“You don’t have to,” came her muffled reply. But the protest was weak, lacking its earlier fire.
“I do,” he replied. “It will help you understand my offer.”
For a long moment, they stood there in silence. Harper’s breaths came unevenly against him, her body gradually losing its rigidness. Her arms slid down, hanging limply at her sides, though she didn’t lean into him fully.
“I’m a world renown criminal,” he whispered in her ear. “Nakatomi Plaza was my doing and if it taught me anything, it’s that I could use a good physician.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Hans resisted the urge to pull her closer, to bury his face in her hair and spill all his secrets. Instead, he let the moment stretch, his hands lightly brushing against her back, his grip remaining cautious.
“You will in time.”
Still, she didn’t move away. Hans reached out again, his hand brushing against her arm. A silent gesture that she wasn’t alone. The contact was light, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make her breath hitch.
“I don’t trust you,” she said finally, though her statement lacked conviction.
“Good,” Hans said, a light grin touching his lips. “Trust is overrated. But we could work together, Harper. I can give you what you need. A way out.”
“You’re lying,” she said, but her voice wavered.
“Not this time,” Hans replied, his tone quiet, almost gentle. “Never to you.”
For a moment, the world seemed to pause. Her breathing slowed, her tension ebbing just slightly as his hand brushed against hers again, lingering. The warmth of her skin sent a jolt through him, a spark of something he hadn’t felt in years.
“As I said, if you’re interested, I believe I have a job for you,” Hans began, deciding they could fill in the gaps later. “You will be paid handsomely from a shell corporation, just name your—”
Hans was mid-sentence when Harper’s hands curled around the lapels of his wool coat and silenced him with a kiss that burned with confusion, frustration, and desperation. For a fraction of a second, Hans froze, caught entirely off-guard by her passion, but then instinct took over. His lips slanted over hers as his fingers dug into the fabric at her waist to pull her flush against him. In that moment he realized he could spend eternity like this.
“Your ribs,” she murmured against his lips, breaking the magic. Hans would gladly continue his suffering if it meant more, but she was right. At least for now. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of her current state of mind. She would be his, but not like this.
Gingerly crouching over, Hans recovered her book and moved towards the door. “I’ll give you time to consider,” he said, his voice hypnotically mellow but certain. She didn’t even register he’d swiped it, staring at the wall behind him.
Before leaving, he glanced back, her figure framed by the dim light of the lamp. “We shall have another discussion once you’ve had some time.”
As the door clicked shut behind him, Hans let out a slow breath, his mind still caught on the feel of her skin against his. She was unraveling, and he was closer to earning her trust—or at least her cooperation.