25. Waiting to Drop
TWENTY-FIVE
Waiting to Drop
Harry
T he next morning, Lillian was at his side, his dogs at her house snoozing on their new beds (except Linus, who was up on the couch, something Harry allowed at home, and Lillian made clear she allowed too, even if her couch was a lot nicer than his). They were snoozing because he’d taken them on a run.
Now, Harry and Lillian were walking into Aromacobana together because this was what Lillian described as her daily splurge.
She hadn’t woken before him that day.
In fact, he got up, put on his running clothes, took his dogs out and ran a few miles, came back and fed them, showered, and made himself a coffee before she stumbled out, sleepy-eyed, wild-haired and adorable.
She hadn’t had a lot of sleep the night before, so Harry was pleased as fuck she was getting caught up.
He was more pleased she was there with him, where he was at in his head with where they were in their relationship.
What he wasn’t pleased about was Willie Zowkower deciding to fuck with her again.
But that wasn’t going to be for Lillian.
No.
Harry would take care of that.
After she crashed sleepily into him and he held her for a few minutes, he said, “Get dressed, sweetheart, let’s go to Aromacobana.”
She nodded, pushed her face into his chest like it was an added hug, then she pulled away and did as he asked.
Now they were there, everyone in the coffee joint was watching them, and he didn’t give a shit.
They got their coffees, she got a croissant, and they were back out on the sidewalk when he asked, “Plans for the day?”
“I need to dive deep into this manuscript so I can get it back to my author. The services for Mom and Dad are Saturday. I’ll want to spend time with Shane and Sherise while they’re here. I need a clear slate.”
“Right.”
“And I’ll be popping to Jenna’s. She’s doing the flowers for the service. She wants to show me what she has in mind. Ronnie is coming with me.”
“Okay.”
They had their arms around each other’s waists, and she used hers to give him a squeeze. “I’m also making dinner for my guy.”
“Wait for me, we’ll cook together.”
She looked up at him. “I take it there’s no set getting-home time for Sheriff Moran.”
He gave her another squeeze. “No, honey, but I’ll stay in touch during the day so you’ll have a sense of when my day will be done.”
She nodded.
They crossed the street.
They were passing Kimmy’s Christmas store when Kimmy came out, indicating she’d probably been at the window watching everything and as such, clocking them going to Aromacobana, as well as clocking them coming back.
He was about to say something to get her to back off, but she handed Lillian a big, fancy, shiny candy cane with thin swirls of green mixed with thinner ones of white cut with a slender gold.
“Hammond’s caramel apple. The crème de la crème of candy canes. Avery’s favorite,” Kimmy declared.
Harry heard Lillian’s sharp indrawn breath, but Kimmy just patted her shoulder awkwardly, gave Harry big eyes, and disappeared back into her store.
Harry set them to walking again.
“Alex is so totally a moron,” she said in an undertone.
“Who’s Alex?” he asked.
“The guy who wouldn’t move to Misted Pines from Oregon.”
“Yup, totally a moron,” Harry agreed, though why Harry thought he was a moron and why Lillian did were very different.
They kept walking, almost by the front door of the department, except she stopped.
He looked down at her. “I’m walking you home.”
“It’s not even a full block away.”
“I’m walking you home,” he repeated.
She leaned into him, wrapping both her arms around him, even with one hand holding a coffee and the other a croissant and a candy cane.
“You know how you need to see to me?” she asked.
He knew where this was going.
“Lillian—”
“Well, I need to drop you off at work and know you’re where you need to be, and not doing something you don’t need to be doing, that being walking me a block home.”
“Honey—”
She got up on her toes, kissed him quiet and rolled back to her feet. “Go do good.”
He bent and kissed her deeper, and longer, broke it and gave in, murmuring, “Later, beautiful.”
She smiled at him, and he was happy as fuck to see it reached her eyes. “Later, handsome.”
They broke off and he watched until she turned the corner onto her block.
He went in and activity in the bullpen obviously recommenced after everyone in it had stopped to watch Harry and Lillian through the front windows.
Polly was by the door in the reception bench holding an Aromacobana cup and beaming at him.
He moved to her, slid a coffee out of the two-cup carrier he had, handed it to her, then took the one she had and put it in the carrier.
“Things are changing,” he announced. “Lillian likes to go to the coffee shop every morning. That means I’ll be bringing you one every day.”
“I’m awesome with change,” Polly replied.
Harry couldn’t stop his grin.
It died before he said, “I want everyone gathered. Two hours. Not the crew that did nights, but anyone that’s off, call them in. We’re having a department-wide briefing.”
“You got it.”
Polly took off.
Harry went to Rus’s desk.
He took the other coffee out of the carrier and handed it to him.
“For looking after the dogs.”
“You didn’t have to, but I’ll take it,” Rus replied, proving his words by taking a sip.
Harry retrieved the other coffee, dumped the carrier in Rus’s trash and took his own sip.
“Like I said last night, you’re lead on the Rainiers,” Harry started it. “Polly’s calling everyone in. I’ll deal with schedules. I’ll figure out overtime. But whatever you need, you’re gonna get.”
“Already talked to the agents assigned in Idaho. They got things they’ve gotta go over there. Then they’ll be out here. Hopefully by the time they get here, we’ll have something meaty to give them.”
Hopefully.
Harry nodded. “When Wade gets back, I’ll want him with you. You’ve got him and Karen. I’m taking Sean for the Ballard case.”
Rus nodded.
“You feel good about any of this?” Harry asked.
“I felt a whole lot better when I heard about the journals, but something is fucking with me.”
Christ, he was glad he wasn’t the only one feeling that.
“You know what that is?” Harry queried.
“No. If I figure it out, I’ll tell you. But I get the feeling we’re just scratching the surface of something.”
“People have killed for far less than to cover up fraud, Rus,” Harry said, even though he felt the same thing.
“Maybe it’s that we’ve only sunk our teeth into two of those flagged files, and we’re already up to our necks,” Rus guessed.
Maybe.
Maybe that audit landed his entire department under a mountain of shit it was going to take effort, time and perseverance to dig out of. A great deal of all three.
Or maybe there was another shoe hovering, waiting to drop.
“I’ll be ready for the briefing,” Rus ended it. “All I added to Ballard’s file is on your desk. Of note, the ex-wife still hasn’t gotten back to me.”
“Thanks, brother,” Harry replied.
Rus jutted up his chin and turned back to his desk.
Harry went to his office and started his day.