“What I meant was, how come I don’t know anything about you?”

“Nothing to know.”

“Come on, Harper. We’ve been partners for almost a year. I know you came from Tucson—homicide detective—and you’ve been here three years or so. That’s about all I know.”

She stared straight ahead at the rental car that was parked in front of the vacant house. Was that really all she’d told him? She turned her head and looked at him, then turned back to the rental car.

“There’s not much else to tell. If you’re looking for juicy personal details, there aren’t any. Work…this is it.”

“That right there will drive you to an early grave. You know what they say about all work and no play.”

“Haven’t been in the mood to play,” she said honestly.

“Why’d you leave Tucson? You got family here in Dallas or something?”

She took a deep breath. Yeah, Harper…why did you leave Tucson? She could see Jan’s face clearly…the laughing dark eyes, the teasing smile, the tiny scar on her chin from taking a tumble on her bike when she was a kid. She stared at the rental car, no longer seeing it, instead seeing the tangled mass of light brown hair, made sticky from the blood…the mangled hands from fingers that had been smashed. And she saw the crushed skull, the lifeless eyes. She saw the sheet they’d covered her with, the sheet that was soaked in blood. She saw their sympathetic gazes, heard their hushed words, felt their comforting touch as they led her from the bedroom.

It took two days before it hit her. Two days before she shed a tear. Two days before reality set in…and changed her life forever. She looked over at Reid, seeing him watching her. She gave him a halfhearted smile.

“Or something,” she said quietly.

“In other words, none of my business.”

“I needed to get out of Tucson. I just happened to land here, that’s all.”

“Okay, Harper. None of my business.”

She should tell him, she supposed. Reid was the closest thing she had to a friend. She’d left all of those behind in Tucson too. But she wasn’t ready. She’d kept it locked away in a nice, safe, secret place. She took the memory out from time to time, but only for a little while. That was all she could handle. She kept thinking every day that passed, every month, every year, that it would get better—easier. But no. She still felt hollow inside, empty. She knew Jan wasn’t coming back, knew that part of her life was over with for good. Jan would tell her to get over it already. Jan would tell her to get on with her life.

She would if she could. Oh, if only she could.

* * *