Behind the Walls by Merry Jones

Author:Merry Jones [Jones, Merry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: C429, Kat, Extratorrents
Publisher: Severn House Publishers Ltd
Published: 2005-01-08T13:00:00+00:00

‘A man jumped off the Thurston Avenue Bridge.’

A man? Harper waited for Rivers to utter Hank’s name. Why was she being so oblique? Shouldn’t she be more empathetic? Shouldn’t she prepare the widow for her loss, offer condolences?

‘A bunch of students saw him. A man was there, trying to talk him down. The kids tried to help.’

Harper strained to listen to Rivers’ details. Apparently, as the students approached, the man had tried to help him, offered him a job. But the jumper had refused, cursing and shouting that he’d never take a deal with ‘that fucker’. Promising that ‘your boss is going down’. Then he’d jumped.

The kids had called 911; in a matter of minutes, the body had been retrieved from the gorge.

Harper’s pulse slowed. Rivers still hadn’t said Hank’s name. Hadn’t even hinted at it. And the story – well, the guy didn’t sound like Hank. For one thing, Hank wouldn’t have made such coherent statements. His words would have come out differently, in short spurts. So this dead man wasn’t, couldn’t be Hank.

Relief washed over her, made her giddy. Hank was alive. Although, if he didn’t come home soon, he might not be that way long; she might kill him herself. Where the hell was he? She pictured him out at a bar. With another woman. His head too close to hers. Damn, she needed to stop imagining—

‘Mrs Jennings?’

Lord. She hadn’t heard a word the detective had been saying.

‘I gotta tell you, you don’t seem like yourself. You might be coming down with something.’

‘Sorry. I’m . . . fine.’

‘As I was saying, his cell phone shows that he’s called you several times today.’

What? Harper felt blood drain from her head.

‘And there’s another reason we think you know him. He had this in his pocket when he died.’

Rivers held up a piece of scrap paper. Handwritten letters spelled: HARPER REYNOLDS. Reynolds was crossed out, replaced with JENNINGS. And her address and phone number.

The realization hit Harper hard: it was Burke. He was dead. Burke Everett had jumped off a bridge.

Harper couldn’t get warm. She wrapped Hank’s parka around herself and heated up some coffee, but kept shivering anyway.

Burke was dead? Oh God.

If she’d taken his phone calls, agreed to help him, would he still be alive? Was his death her fault?

She pictured him flying off the bridge. Lying limp and lifeless in the gorge.

A detail about his death resonated in her mind. She tried to figure out what. But Rivers kept interrupting, asking questions. Wanting to know who Burke was, how Harper knew him. Why he’d been calling her.

Harper told the detectives about serving with Burke in Iraq. About his recent visit and urgent need to talk with her.

Damn you, Harper. Don’t tell them another word. She heard Burke’s voice as clearly as if he’d been sitting beside her. They won’t believe you anyway. They’ll tell the Colonel anything you say – you’re digging your grave.

Rivers frowned. ‘After all these years, Mrs Jennings? Isn’t it strange that Mr Everett suddenly came all this way for a visit?’

‘Not really.

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