Chapter 66

66

Powell was resting at her cousin's house, her mother, father, and all three of her brothers hovering over her. Now, Gunnar was a man on a mission.

Heather's brother-in-law was going down. Fast.

As soon as he found the sick bastard. And that meant the Colesons. They were the last real lead he had. Miguel was pulling in when Gunnar and Daniel turned into the Colesons' driveway. Miguel parked, climbed out, and waited.

As soon as Daniel parked, Miguel pulled his preschoolers from the backseat of his truck. Gunnar would always have two main images in mind when he thought of the other man—a giant menace in full tactical gear ready to tear a suspect limb from limb and a good-natured man with three small children hanging all over him. Miguel was as much a contradiction as every other bozo in Major Crimes, no denying that.

"What are you all doing here?" he asked, glaring—at Daniel. "I told you to give her some space."

"We need to talk to the Colesons," Daniel said. "Not just her."

"About what?" Miguel slung a pink and orange diaper bag over his shoulder as his little girl came to Gunnar and lifted her arms for him to carry her. They had met before, Gunnar and Miss Raine Rodriguez.

Gunnar obliged, reminding himself he couldn't just demand answers from the family inside. He hadn't even heard any of them mention Heather's brother-in-law when he'd been there before. As far as he'd known, the man wasn't in the picture.

Gunnar had thought he was dead.

Apparently not.

"DNA samples came back," Gunnar said, pulling little Raine up on his hip. She was such a sweet little girl. He'd like a daughter, with Powell's big brown eyes and perfect wicked grin, if that's what the baby was. Or a little boy, like Jago, who was eyeing him suspiciously right now.

It was starting to sink in fast that he'd have one of these little creatures of his own in September.

"Again…what about?" Miguel asked.

"We have the DNA results back from Heather's clothing, and we have questions," Daniel said. "It has revealed a few surprises."

No damned kidding.

Before anyone could say anything else, the front door opened, and Coleson women tumbled out. There were Colesons watching now, including some of the ones Gunnar was looking for.

"Commander Butthead McKellen," Summer said in that rich, smooth voice of hers. Gunnar would admit it—if he hadn't had it bad for Powell, he could see going stupid over Summer Coleson too. Summer had that same something about her that Heather did. That drew men.

Wars were fought over women like her .

Of course, he had yet to meet a Coleson woman who wasn't just like that .

"I am beginning to think you have bad taste in friends, Detective Erickson," another Coleson woman said. The gremlin. Hope was there, hair in two shaggy pigtails again. She was up, moving, but she looked exhausted. "Miggy's kids are really cute, so we'll let him in. This time."

"Mama!" the baby yelled from Miguel's hold, reaching. For Hope. She'd done that the last time Gunnar was there, as well. "Mamamamamama!"

"Mama Hope. That is so flipping hilarious," another Coleson said, but Gunnar couldn't see which one. They just sort of swarmed them all—to get to the kids.

Summer took the baby from Miguel. "I've got her, Hope. You, no carrying, remember."

"I can hug first, right?" Hope reached for the baby. "She still has her little hat on, and the overalls are so wicked cute. Hi, baby girl. I missed you."

"Mamamamamama."

"She likes the hat. Jago wanted to dress her in the overalls. Rain picked out the shirt and shoes," Miguel said. "You shouldn't be up moving around too much, brat."

"The doctors in my house said I could if I took a nap after we brought Heather home, Miggy." Hope said, glaring at him. She glared at Miguel a lot. Gunnar had noticed. "I slept for two whole hours. Not that it is any of your business, dude. Why are you here again?"

"I am here to keep an eye on your sister—and you—until Heather feels better. She never should have left the hospital. And I'm beginning to think you need a dozen more keepers. Both of you do."

"Dude, have you seen how much a stay in Castle FCGH costs? I understand why she checked out of that hotel." Hope glared up at Miguel.

"AMA." He glared back. "She should have stayed."

"Three nurses, two doctors, and a hovering Cara in a pear tree. We have her covered. Who made you a Heather keeper, anyway?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on the two of you. I suspect it's a lifetime job."

"He does have a point, Hope. He does have a point," Cashlyn said.

"Wait a minute?" Daniel said, drawing Coleson attention his way. Coleson evil eyes, mostly. All five of the women out there stopped what they were doing to glare at Commander Butthead. "She checked out against medical advice?"

"Is that relevant?" Cashlyn asked, sniffing derisively in Daniel's direction.

"What am I thinking? Of course, she did. She's the most stubborn woman on the planet. Of course, she did."

"Heather is on the top five Stubbornest Colesons on the Planet list, you understand. Crispin, Heather, Megan, Summer, and, well, apparently, I have made that particular list, oddly enough," Cashlyn said, shrugging. "We argued with her to stay and take advantage of the not-so-wonderful food there—but, well, I don't know if you gentlemen realize this, but TSP health insurance isn't that great. And Heather does have two baby Colesons to support—those small human things just aren't cheap, I'm afraid. And her previous Wilson-induced bills are already drowning her, as it is."

"The TSP is footing her entire bill," Daniel said almost testily.

"Sure they are," Hope said. "Dude, would you like to see my pile of bills they are supposedly footing? I have never seen that many zeros on my bills before. Not so wicked fun. Even my college education cost half what that heart surgery did. Bang, bang, now Hazel Hope is in debt up to her eyeballs! Good thing I'm not any taller. I think they charged by the inch."

"What?" Daniel asked. "You're still getting billed for what happened that night?"

"Yep. Sure am. First one arrived three days after I was shot. I wasn't even home yet."

"Well, the TSP should be paying yours, as well," Daniel told Hope. "Get me copies of everything you've received so far, and I'll find out why they're not being covered, Hope."

"Sure you will. Why are you all here again? Well, Miggy…I kind of expected, actually. He shows up like hives around here lately. But you two? Let me guess, more questions? She just now got comfortable enough to sleep, guys, thanks to the pain meds. You are going to have to wait until she wakes up. Here's a hint: we are not waking her up for you. We just aren't. Find something else to do while you wait. I have a few suggestions. For you, Butthead, not Gunnar. We're keeping him. We like Gunnar; he's been voted onto Coleson Island."

Several of her pack agreed.

"Well, we do have some yard work we need done," Cashlyn said, tapping her little chin and eyeing them in a way that had Gunnar feeling a sudden streak of apprehension. "The three of them certainly look fit enough to get the job done, ladies. Then there is that entire project we are doing in the carriage house. They could definitely do that ."

"You know, Cashie," Samia said, taking Miguel's baby from Hope when Hope shifted baby Emilia and grimaced. "We really can't just put every stray guy that comes wandering around us to work doing physical labor. I don't think that's something normal people actually do ? Eventually, the guys involved might just start to protest."

"Who said anything about us being normal?" Cashlyn asked, sounding so utterly serious. "Do we even want to be normal, for that matter? I thought we voted on that too? Normal does seem to stifle our Coleson creativity."

"We voted on that one a long time ago," Crispin said. She looked at Gunnar. "It was rather unanimous. We aren't normal. Except, well, Aunt Heather thinks she is the most normal one of us all."

"Besides," Summer said. "Why can't we put them to work? There has always been such an abundance of free male labor just showing up at our house—we had to do something with them."

"They just cluttered up everywhere if we didn't. Or piled up, getting in our way when we were busy doing things. There were always just so many of them," Hope added like she was completely serious. Well, Gunnar could almost believe it.

"True. Very, very true. And Mom does love her efficiency," Cashlyn said, pushing open the front entry to their home. "We did learn from the best. Gentlemen, if you would join us inside? Quietly, of course. Heather—and probably the baby—are sleeping in the family room. It was as far as Heather could make it, I believe. Raine, Jago, and our sweet little Emilia, there are cookies in the kitchen just waiting on you. But we have to be really, really quiet, okay?"

"With the cramberries?" Miguel's son asked. "Like lastest time?"

"Exactly like last time," Hope told him as he hugged her quickly. "Summer made them special, in case you came over to see us. She made more granola with cranberries and blueberries too. And yogurt, for bedtime snacks. We'll put granola on top again too."

"I liked the ‘nola in the ‘gurt. It was crunchy. We here to take care of Aunt Heather now. The bad guys gotted her this time, Mama Koala." And there was fear in the little boy's eyes that had no business being there. "Like they did my daddy and you."

Sometimes Gunnar hated this job completely. The cost was just too much. A four-year-old should never know that bad guys were real. Should not be afraid.

He just shouldn't.

"Yeah, bud, I know. But Aunt Heather is really tricky and really smart and really sneaky, and she got away too. She is safe now, taking a nap on the couch so we're all going to be really quiet. She just has a few bruises and stuff. She'll be okay, I promise," Hope told him.

"No stitcheses?"

"A few. But not as many as me," Hope said, brushing her hand over his hair. Miguel was standing there, staring at the gremlin like she was his every walking fantasy right now. Gunnar watched her wrap her hand around Jago's and lead him inside, Miguel following her like a damned oversized puppy.

Gunnar and Daniel trailed in his wake.

Gunnar barely avoided tripping over a rogue Coleson duck wandering around their side yard on his way.

Coleson Island—well, it was probably the least normal place in Hughes Heights, completely.