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head as if she wasn’t even there. But Luka did, motioning to the Reverend to join him in the foyer where Tassi couldn’t hear. Harper hesitated; she knew she was probably meant to remain with the widow, but couldn’t resist the opportunity of watching the two men she respected most square off.

“Did you also know about his deathbed confession?” Luka asked in a low voice. “It was dated yesterday and reads as if his language and word choice was scripted by legal counsel.”

The Reverend seemed disappointed by the question, his expression disdainful. “I’m afraid that falls under the umbrella of attorney-client privilege. As do any specifics we might have discussed while drafting Spencer’s will or trust. I would have expected a senior officer such as yourself to know that.”

“What about the charity foundation?” Luka persisted. He didn’t realize it, but Harper knew that Luka’s refusal to accept the Reverend’s answer would only anger her father. But then she looked more closely—maybe Luka did realize it. Maybe he hoped to use that anger against the Reverend, get him off balance. She leaned back, taking it all in. No one confronted or challenged the Reverend. Ever. “It would be on public record if you were involved in its creation. I trust you wouldn’t waste my time—”

“I was not involved in the foundation’s creation. Spencer and Tassi established it themselves soon after their arrival here. However, as you’ll see as soon as you bother to glance at the foundation’s letterhead, I am on the board.” Somehow the Reverend implied that the fact that Luka even asked the question meant he was less than competent. “Along with most of Craven County’s leaders.”

“Of course.” Luka nodded as if acquiescing. But Harper saw the gleam in his eye and knew it was all an act. “Well, in that case, since Mr. Standish’s confession implies that his crimes may be linked to improprieties in his charitable foundation, then it’s you who might have a conflict of interest if you continue to represent Mrs. Standish. Everyone on the board or connected with the foundation will need to be questioned.”

“I sincerely doubt that, but we can approach a judge.” The Reverend offered his rebuttal. “And you will of course need to assign my daughter duties elsewhere.”

Harper couldn’t help but stare at her father, but his gaze never shifted in her direction. Why was he so concerned about her involvement in this case? The Violent Crimes Unit would treat Standish’s death as suspicious until the coroner ruled. If Standish did kill himself, then the VCU’s investigation would end there. Standish’s other crimes, given the level of financial malfeasance and fraud Luka had alluded to, would no doubt be investigated by the state police and the feds. Was the Reverend embarrassed by his possible entanglement in Standish’s crimes? Did he fear she’d think he was a fool to have been manipulated into lending his good name to a corrupt charity? She blinked, suddenly feeling disoriented. The Reverend worried about what his wayward daughter thought of him? Surely not.

Luka gave her a studied look and she finally caught up to what was really going on—not the family-forgiveness fantasy she’d concocted. No. The Reverend was smart enough to know that if he couldn’t use family connections to help him, then his best bet was to make sure those family connections also couldn’t hinder his cause by sharing insights with his enemies.

Making it very clear whose side he saw Harper standing on, and it wasn’t the right side, the family’s side. In his eyes, she was now an opponent, not a daughter.

Before she could say anything, her phone sounded. It was a text from one of the patrol guys in the Kingston Towers sector who’d spotted a few working girls back on the street. Not urgent news, but it gave her a way to exit gracefully, avoiding allowing her father to use her as a pawn in his power struggle with Luka. Plus, Luka had things handled here, while she was the only one actively working Lily’s case. Her case.

Pointedly ignoring her father, she turned to Luka, holding up her phone. “Got a lead on our earlier case. You good if I head out to follow up?”

He nodded. “Keep me updated.”

“Yes, sir.” She walked toward the door, shoulders back, chin high, wanting her father to see how professional she was. Maybe the Reverend didn’t trust her to draw the line between family confidences and her job, but she needed him to know that at least Luka respected and trusted her. She wasn’t sure why it was so important to her, but it felt like more than saving face. It felt like crossing an important threshold from childhood to adulthood.

If only her father also saw it that way. “Call your mother, Naomi,” the Reverend said in an off-hand tone as she reached the door, as if he’d only now noticed her presence. He knew she’d seen Rachel an hour ago, so his words were clearly meant more to illustrate how unimportant her career was compared to her family obligations. “It’s cruel of you to make her constantly worry when she doesn’t hear from you.”

Harper stifled her sigh. So much for being treated like an adult, much less an equal.

Ten

Luka watched Matthew Harper’s expression as he dismissed his daughter. There was more going on there than normal parent-child relationship friction. Harper was intensely private when it came to her past. The only things Luka knew about her family were that she’d been adopted and that her father and brothers were all ministers. Was there some reason why Matthew wanted his daughter off this case?

Or perhaps it was a simple diversion, intended to distract Luka from some essential truth. It was too early to say, and Luka definitely wasn’t rushing to judgment.

“Mrs. Standish.” He focused on the widow. “I’ve requested a search warrant for your home and your husband’s office.” Usually he’d start with the wife’s statement before sorting through financials, but Matthew was right—Tassi was

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