With a nod toward Mason, Harper turned to leave. “Wait.” Gram’s voice, calling her back, filled Mason with a sense of relief. His grandmother was going to make this right.
And he wanted Harper back, too. They hadn’t spoken about Bruce yet. He’d hoped the two women would talk. That Harper would convince Gram to tell them what had happened. Convince her, too, that it would be best for Bruce in the long run if they could get him help.
When Harper had turned back, Gram said, “What about Brianna? When do I get to see her?”
Wow, again. This was so not the way to get what you wanted, by speaking with antagonism toward the person who could provide it. Or not…
“I told her she could see you during her afternoon playtime. Would that work for you?”
Gram blinked and Mason almost smiled. Except that it would be a result of seeing his grandmother put in her place. He didn’t want that to happen. He just wanted her rudeness to stop. Mostly because it was so out of character. And maybe, a little, because it was directed at Harper. Unfairly.
“That would be fine,” Gram said.
“One of my officers will deliver her to your bungalow and stay there while she’s with you, in addition to the officer who’ll be on duty assigned to you.” Harper named a time. “If that’s okay, Brianna can stay with you until I’m ready to head home. At that point, her officer will deliver her back to me.”
“That’s okay with me, as long as you aren’t the officer.” Gram wasn’t giving an inch.
Harper had just given miles.
And Mason had no idea where to go with any of it.
* * *
HARPER WAS UNUSUALLY off her mark for the rest of the day. Other than the hysterical crying bout she’d suffered five years before, after discovering that her fiancé had been unfaithful to her shortly before their wedding, she’d never had drama moments in her life. She just wasn’t the sort.
And yet, all day Tuesday, she was…jittery. She’d seen Mason. The sky hadn’t fallen in. She hadn’t died, or melted into a puddle on the floor. She hadn’t even been filled with rage at the callous way he’d disappeared from her life without so much as a phone call in five years’ time.
Not that she could blame him, she supposed. She hadn’t called him, either.
But now, her not calling seemed…worse, because the only reason he hadn’t contacted her was that he thought it was at her bidding. He’d been honoring a request he’d believed had come from her. Whereas she hadn’t contacted him because she’d simply chosen not to. Most of the day she managed to avoid thinking about that revelation. Lives depended on her ability to focus, and she gave her job every ounce of herself when she was on duty. Tuesday was no different. Cameras provided around-the-clock surveillance at all times. And every single unidentifiable individual who lingered too long on the block that fronted the Stand, or frequented any of the Stand-run shops there on numerous occasions, was quietly and efficiently investigated. Rounds were done on a regular basis. Gates, locks and bungalows were checked at least once an hour, although residents were never disturbed unless necessary. She ran regular background checks on anyone who was employed by, volunteered at or visited the Stand. She also had daily meetings with the Stand executive staff, so she always knew what events were coming up and could ensure they’d be properly guarded. Those meetings also allowed her to know—and to let her officers know—which of their residents might be having a particularly hard day, which ones had recently had contact with family members, and those whose abusers were known to be agitated or on the hunt. At every shift change, she had an update meeting with her own staff of fifteen. That afternoon, she passed around Miriam’s guard schedule and disclosed, to the few who were still unaware, that the woman was her former grandmother-in-law. Without criticizing Miriam, she disclosed that the older woman wasn’t all that fond of her. She gave instructions that Miriam was to see Brianna every day if she chose, but only with an officer assigned to Brianna present at all times.
Maybe that last part was overkill. Until a month ago Brianna had spent the night in Miriam’s home every other weekend without any guard detail at all. But that was before Harper had learned that Miriam was being abused and lying about it. Whether Bruce was her abuser, or she’d had someone else in their home without his knowledge, the fact remained that Miriam was protecting someone who’d hurt her.