Chapter Twenty-Six

It had been an emotionally draining day. They returned home and had a quiet dinner—too quiet, in fact. With each mile they'd put between themselves and Connecticut, Harper had sensed Colson withdrawing, so by the time the meal was finished, he was far in his own head. Harper put David to bed, then took Colson upstairs.

He started with a soft kiss, but instead of the usual flare of passion, he was met with hesitancy. He stopped and took Colson's face between his hands. Sadness rested in Colson's eyes. No matter their estrangement, it had to be devastating to be met with such ugly indifference from a parent. But he waited to hear what Colson had to say, knowing that no matter what it was, he'd only love him harder to make the hurt less painful.

"What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I don't think…I mean, I'm…I'm a little tired." His shoulders drooped. "I'm sorry."

Harper skimmed the outline of his lips. "Hey. Remember what I said? It's not the sex. It's what's in here." He placed a hand over Colson's heart and felt the rapid pump. "Let me take care of you tonight."

They undressed and got into the shower, where he shampooed Colson's hair. Harper soaped Colson up and rinsed him off, tracing his tattoos with his lips.

"Harper." Colson sighed, putting his arms around Harper.

"It's okay." Harper tried to rein in his tumbling emotions. His skin was tight, stretched to the limit from all the love and pain he kept bottled up, not only for David, but now for Colson.

Colson's lips moved against his shoulder. "I'm not going to let what happened with my father prevent me from loving you."

"Oh, I know that." His lips kicked up in a quick grin before he became serious. "I love you and meant every word I said to him. You talk about me needing someone to take care of my needs. Tonight, and every night afterward, I'm here for you."

On the outside he remained calm, but inside he raged at a parent who so callously tossed away a beautiful person like Colson.

"I know you are. You're more of a family—a home—in this short time together than I ever had with my parents."

Dried off and in bed and under the covers, Harper snuggled Colson in close. "Never let anyone make you feel like you don't deserve to be happy." He traced the tattoos of the birds and butterflies. "There's no need to fly away anymore. Not when you have a safe place to call home."

"As long as I'm with you, I'm home."

***

Sunday was, by unspoken agreement, a family day. Colson picked up bagels, and Harper smiled to himself as they all—Luis included—sat around the table for a late breakfast. Colson broke out a bottle of Dom Perignon and toasted.

"To our family."

He could see them, years into the future, enjoying mornings like this. His family. Forever. Now they had Connecticut too, and he looked forward to creating new memories. Nolan and Gina with their baby could come visit, and Colson's friend Hogan with his family as well. A full house filled with so much laughter and love. Knowing how Colson's grandparents cared so deeply for him, he imagined it would be exactly what they wished for.

"You'll love the house, Luis," Colson said, piling his bagel high with lox. "Tons of room, and there's a pool. I'll have to get someone in to put in a chair lift so David can use it. I bet aqua therapy would be good for him."

"It is, yeah." Luis's eyes shone bright. "He gets it once a week and it helps to massage his leg muscles, but having a whole pool would be amazing."

After they'd eaten, Colson sat with Luis and discussed the book, while Harper put on a movie for David and lay on the couch to work on his notes for the push-in robberies.

Warm breath tickled his ear.

"Huh?" His eyes fluttered opened. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. You fell asleep." Colson stuck his tongue in Harper's ear, and blood rushed to his dick.

"Troublemaker." He rubbed his eyes. "How long was I out?"

"About two hours. Luis wants to order Chinese. He said David loves lo mein. He's just changing his ostomy bags. And you like my kind of trouble."

"Chinese sound good to you, Harper?" Luis pushed David into the room.

"Yeah, sure. Order me some chicken in black bean sauce, please. And spareribs."

"All right." Luis nodded and pulled out his phone. "What about you, Colson?"

"An egg roll and Hunan chicken."

Harper sighed and picked up his legal pad. He liked to write everything down and draw diagrams to see if he could pick up any patterns. Tomorrow would be another day of canvassing the area, speaking to people in the neighborhood and maybe getting lucky. So many days he was left feeling like he was one step behind the bad guys, spinning his wheels.

"Problems?" Colson slid in next to him. "Care to talk about it?"

"Another day, another group who preys on the elderly and the vulnerable. This time it's female perps, so it's even more dangerous."

Colson looked perplexed. "Why? I'd think the opposite."

Harper tapped his pad with his pencil. "Exactly. Most people, if they see a young, distraught female on their doorstep, wouldn't hesitate to help. These women count on that inherent good nature and capitalize on it for their bad acts."

"That's so sad. People can't trust anyone anymore." Colson frowned. "I'm going to text Hogan that Bea shouldn't open her door, even if it's a woman."

"As much as I hate being negative, I agree."

Colson kissed him on the nose. "You? Hate being negative? You're funny."

The notes and criminals forgotten, Harper wrestled him to the couch for a kiss. The doorbell rang, and Luis walked by, snickering.

"Don't mind me. You can always reheat the food if you need to get busy."

"Are you kidding?" Harper pushed Colson off him. "I'm starving."

"It's already come to this, huh?" Colson lay on the couch, face flushed and eyes dancing. "Second fiddle to spareribs."

Harper held out his hand. "Don't be such a drama queen." He pulled Colson up and kissed him. "I'll save my personal sparerib for you later."

"Oh, for God's sake, do not give up detective work for stand-up."

"I'm standing up right now. Want a peek?" Harper snickered.

"What's gotten into you tonight?" Colson groaned. "It's like you're intent on reviving bad jokes."

Harper lifted a shoulder and gazed across the room. "I don't know. I guess I'm just happy. And I'm not used to it, so I'm being silly."

Colson held his arm. "Hey. I'm just kidding. I love it. And you. You can be as silly as you want as long as it's with me."

Harper leaned in and kissed Colson's smile. "There's nothing silly about how I feel when I'm with you." How was it possible this man lit up all the dark, lonely spaces of a heart he'd given up on? Like everything else in his life, Harper wasn't about to question his good fortune. He'd found someone to share his demons with, someone who didn't run from the storm of Harper's complicated life but rather toward the chaos, embracing the rain.

"I love you too, baby."

"Flattery will get you an extra bite of my sparerib." Snickering, he waggled his brows.

Together, hand in hand, they went to dinner.

***

"Another Monday, another happy Harper. I don't know if I can stand it," Nolan razzed him.

"Well, get used to it, Daddy ," Harper teased right back, and Nolan's eyes grew soft.

"I can't wait."

"What can't you wait for, Martinez?" Poole interrupted. "Not the next push-in, because we had a couple over the weekend. Check with Jankowitz and Leeds. They were on duty."

"Will do, Cap."

Poole frowned. "The neighborhood block association is very unhappy, and you know there are lots of judges and politicos who live in and around the area. The mayor is feeling the heat, which means they're stepping up the pressure at One PP, and it all falls on us." His smile was thin. "Let's get moving."

Harper spied Jankowitz coming into the bullpen from the bathroom and waved him over. "Bring your partner. We need to talk about the push-ins."

Twenty-year veteran Detective Jeff Leeds made a face as he settled into a chair opposite them. A grumpy bear of a man, he had instincts that couldn't be taught and a gut that rarely pointed him in the wrong direction. "I gotta tell you, what's the world coming to when we got girl gangs roaming the streets?"

Jankowitz set his hard jaw and rolled his eyes behind black-framed glasses. "I tried to tell Jeff here that it doesn't matter —man or woman, thugs are gonna thug. They hit one old man on Columbia Heights off Cranberry. He was wheeling his little grocery cart to his front door, and when he opened it, this girl conked him on the head and took his wallet. Poor slob had over a hundred bucks in it. He'd just been at the bank."

"Only one perp this time?" Harper asked, surprised.

"Yeah, looks like they're splitting up because about five minutes later another vic—a woman in her sixties—opened the door and got the same treatment, only this time her house was ransacked. No prints, nothing." Jankowitz made a disgusted sound.

"Getting brazen," Leeds added. "But that's when they usually slip up."

"We hope," Nolan said. "But if they're splitting up, that means they feel emboldened because we haven't been able to catch them."

" Yet. I think they're getting cocky and greedy, not bold," Harper insisted. "I agree with Leeds."

"One thing you're gonna find interesting"—Leeds pulled his notepad closer—"is that the lady told us the one who popped her over the head had a tattoo of the devil on her arm. So these are the same people doing the e-scooter robberies."

"Fucking hell," Harper cursed. "It never occurred to me to connect them. Makes it harder, but it's all good info."

"All right." Jankowitz rose to his feet. "I'm going home to remind my wife I'm alive. See you in a couple of days."

"Thanks, guys." Nolan raised a hand in a salute. "We're going to head out in a few."

That proved to be delayed, as they got tied up with phone calls and leads calling in from all the cards they'd handed out. It wasn't until the afternoon that they escaped the squad room and got to the street. They interviewed the elderly man, who couldn't remember a thing, and several of the neighbors on the street, but no one had seen anything. The woman who'd been burglarized had left to go to Long Island and stay with her daughter for a while, so that was a bust.

"A whole lot of nothing," Nolan groused.

He agreed and was about to suggest a cup of coffee when his phone rang with an unidentified number.

"Rose," he answered.

"Is this the detective I spoke to last week? The one at the bank? I was holding the door. You gave me your card."

"Yes." He searched his memory. "Mr…Lewis?"

"That's me."

"How can I help you?"

"Well, I think I'm the one who's going to help you. Ms. Millie Johnson was here, and I didn't think nothin' of it, but then I noticed this girl followed her down the block. Now, I couldn't go far 'cause this gentleman was paying me fifteen dollars to watch and make sure his car didn't get no tickets. But I saw Ms. Johnson go into the fruit stand, and this girl waited, then followed her. Like a lion stalking her prey."

"Thank you very much." He shoved the phone in his pants. "Let's go." He waved to Nolan and took off. "That was the door opener from the bank. Said some girl was following Millie Johnson home."

They tore through the quiet streets, zipping past dog walkers, delivery people, and the stroller brigade. At the approach to Millie's house, he drew his weapon, as did Nolan. The front door sat ajar, and he raced up the brownstone's stairs. He heard voices—female and a male—and ran inside.

"Freeze, police." He pointed his gun…at Millie, who stood unfazed in her foyer.

"Detective Rose. We were just about to call you."

He spied Colson standing over a girl on the ground. She was holding her face and moaning.

"Anyone else here, or is she alone?"

"No," Colson answered.

Nolan scanned the room and holstered his gun. "What happened?"

"I was just about to ask that," Harper growled. "Will someone tell us?"

"Please come sit, Detectives." Millie twittered around them. "Can I get you some tea?" Her birdlike gaze twinkled at him. "Although you'll have to wait for more water to boil. My uninvited guest is wearing my first cup."

He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Help me, Lord." Hearing smothered laughter in the background, he glared at Colson. "No tea. Thank you." His patience was wearing thin. "The facts?"

"Well, I came home from the bank and the market—they had strawberries on sale, and I knew they'd be the last ones of the season—"

"Ms. Johnson, please?"

"Colson and I were going to have some cookies, and I made a cup of tea. Then the bell rang. This young woman was crying, saying her boyfriend beat her up and could she come in and call her mother."

He frowned. "And you opened the door, even though you know there's been a rash of break-ins. I thought we had this discussion already about you checking the camera."

"That's where I come in." Colson joined the story. "I was already here in the house when she received a call from the bank that they needed her to come in and verify signatures. I offered to stay because she had cookies in the oven."

"All this is very interesting, but can we get to the point where this all happened?" Nolan made a let's-move-on gesture.

Colson continued. "Knowing that Millie was too trusting, once I heard the front door open and this one"—he poked the girl on the floor with his foot—"started with a nasty mouth, I ran in with the cup of tea. When I saw her with her fist cocked to punch Millie, I threw the hot tea in her face."

"He burned me," the girl cried out. "I need a doctor."

"Yeah, sure, honey, we'll get right on that," Harper drawled. He got on his phone and called for backup. In five minutes, two officers were in the house and hauled the girl to her feet. Harper checked her out. "Don't worry. You're not burned. Just wet."

She spit in his face, and though he ducked, some caught him on his cheek. "Bastard," she screamed.

"Aw, crap," he said tiredly. "What'd you do that for?" He tipped his head to one of the uniformed officers, who stared at her in horror. "Add on assaulting an officer to the charges."

"You got it, Detective," the officer answered, and after placing her in handcuffs, led her, still screaming profanities, out of the house.

Colson rushed up to him with a wet washcloth. "Here. Let me." He suffered through having his face washed, while Nolan raged.

"That's disgusting. How dare she do that to you? You should go to the hospital and get checked out. Get a tetanus shot or something."

"She didn't cut me. I'll live." With only the four of them there, Harper was comfortable enough to put his arms around Colson. "Thank you."

Visibly upset, Colson pressed him. "Are you okay? Maybe Nolan is right and you should go see a doctor."

"Nah. I'm fine. Most of it missed me." He made a face. "It's probably more in my hair than anything. I'll take a shower when I get home."

Colson leaned in close and whispered, "I'll make sure you clean it all off."

"Excuse me," Millie interrupted. "Now that we've gotten that unpleasantness out of the way, is there something you haven't told me?"

A cute blush rose over Colson's face, and Harper grinned. "What would that be?"

She wagged her finger at him. "Detective Rose, you're teasing me. Did you take my advice?"

His arm tightened over Colson's shoulders, and his gaze found Nolan, who was trying—and failing—not to laugh out loud.

"I guess you could say so. I listened to my heart."