6. Harper
Harper
The last few days have been a whirlwind of courthouse visits, hounding police and DeMarco’s defense team, writing articles that I hope will impress Arthur and convince him I’m ready for this, and spending as much time with Watson as I can so he doesn’t feel neglected.
I’m ashamed to admit I took him with me to wait outside Ev’s office once or twice.
He’s my stakeout buddy now, and his cute face is the only reason I’m not pissed beyond belief that I can’t ever seem to catch Ev on his way home.
Pushing aside the distracting thought, I watch Arthur scrutinize the latest article I wrote.
I know him well enough to pick up on his tells, and that’s why he’s being so infuriatingly careful to mask them.
No scratching at his chin, no fiddling with his pencil, and no raised eyebrows—he’s given me nothing, and by the time he sets it down and looks at me, I’m so impatient I can barely keep it in.
“That looks painful,” he tells me.
“It is.”
My comment earns me a grin, the first hint he’s given me about what he’s feeling. His chair creaks as he leans back and taps a finger on his desk.
“It’s good,” he finally says. “Damn good.”
The huge grin and small squeal I give probably isn’t the most professional reaction, but I don’t care.
“Don’t get too excited,” he warns, and I feel myself deflate a bit. “Steph got back early.”
“Arthur,” I start to say, but he cuts me off. “That was our deal, Harper.” He holds up the article I wrote. “I’m running this, though, and it’ll be your name front and center tomorrow morning.”
“I was really hoping to get more than a handful of articles out of this.”
“I know you were.”
I slouch back in my chair and cross an ankle over my knee. “So what now? More local pieces?” I ask, unable to hide my lack of enthusiasm.
Another squeak fills the room as he adjusts his weight. “I think you’re better suited somewhere else,” he says, sending a shot of hope straight through me. I straighten up when he says, “I’m promoting you to a senior position. The next big case is yours, Harper. Congratulations.”
“Holy shit,” I yell and then quickly say, “I’m sorry,” when he raises a brow at me. “I just can’t believe this is finally happening.”
“You’ve earned it. Now go tell Jace the gossip before he bursts.”
I look out the window that gives me a clear view of all our desks, laughing when I see Jace whip his head back to his screen like he hadn’t just been spying on us.
“It’s a good thing he’s not our PI,” I say.
“I can’t imagine a more ill-fitting job for him,” Arthur says, already turning his attention back to the pile of work on his desk.
“Thank you, Arthur,” I tell him before I leave. “I swear I won’t ever make you regret this.”
He lifts his eyes to mine, giving me a hint of a smile. “I know you won’t, kid. I’ll let you know as soon as I have a story for you.”
I’m still smiling when I get back to my desk. I’m so excited I don’t even make Jace wait. “He promoted me to a senior position, and I’m getting the next big case.”
“Holy shit,” he says loud enough for everyone else to look over.
“That’s what I said,” I tell him with a laugh.
Jace gets up to walk around and give me a hug. “I’m so proud of you. Don’t forget me when you’re super famous and winning awards.”
“I would never. You’re my closest friend, Jace. Without you, I’d just have Watson.”
He gives me his pitying look. “You make me want to cry when you say things like that, Harps. Besides, you’re forgetting Will and Cupcake. They should be on your list too. They both love you.”
“It’s a small but mighty list,” I tell him. “Don’t be sad for me, especially not when I’m so ridiculously happy.”
When he sits back down, he asks, “I wonder what your big story will be. Considering how many murders happen here, you should be getting an assignment any second now.”
“I can’t wait,” I tell him. When he raises a brow at my enthusiasm for murder, I say, “Obviously I’m not excited about someone dying. I’m just saying I’m looking forward to getting a story.”
“Of course,” he says in the most sarcastic tone I’ve ever heard from him, which is saying something.
When I refuse to take the bait, he gives a soft laugh before returning to his work.
I do the same, spending an hour finishing some small things I’ve been putting off, and then I tell Jace bye and head back out into the humidity.
Too antsy now that I know I’m going to get the next big story, I walk to the coffee shop on the corner and place a big order.
It never hurts to get in good with the cops, and going in to say hi to Devin while bringing a caffeinated treat to everyone else is never a bad look.
I walk into the station and see Betsy at the front desk, seated behind bulletproof glass and looking like she’s counting down the days to retirement.
She’s a civilian, so instead of a uniform, she’s in a white blouse with a string of pearls.
Her glasses hang from a gold chain around her neck, always within easy reach.
She smiles when she sees me. “Please tell me you’ve come to bribe me with one of those coffees.”
“Of course I have,” I tell her, grabbing her French vanilla latte while she slides the window open. “Extra vanilla, just like you like it.”
“I’d tell you all my secrets if I had any, honey,” she says before taking a drink.
“That’s the exact kind of attitude the police want you to have, manning their front desk.”
She laughs and takes another drink. “That’s why they don’t tell me shit. If I don’t know anything, then I can’t pass it along. The more you know, the more danger you’re in. I always say leave me out of it. I’d rather be safe and in the dark.”
“I want to know everything,” I say, making her grin.
“I’m so glad you do. You keep me in lattes. You here to see Officer Keegan?”
“Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d drop some coffees by.
” I aim for sweet and innocent, but she sees right through it.
You don’t work in a police station as long as she has and not learn to see right through a lie.
Her bullshit detector is the stuff of legends.
She may not want to know all the secrets, but she’d be one hell of an asset in an interrogation room.
“They should’ve given you a badge a long time ago,” I tell her.
She gives me a wink while she calls Devin to let him know I’m here. A couple of minutes later, the door buzzes open and he waves me in.
“Bye,” I tell Betsy before turning to follow him down the hall.
The station is always hectic and loud. There’s always something going on, and there’s never enough time to get it all done. It’s mayhem in a high-stakes atmosphere, and I love it. I could sit in a corner and be happy to just people watch all day. Well, people watch and ask questions.
“Is this just normal bribery or a special kind of bribery?” Dev asks while I follow him into an unusually quiet room and to his desk. I drop down in the seat opposite him and hand him a black coffee.
“Just the normal kind,” I tell him. “Arthur promoted me and said I’ll get the next big case.” I look around at the empty room that’s usually bustling with activity. “Guess I’ll have to wait a bit longer.”
Devin grins. “Don’t worry. It’ll get busy again in a few minutes. Congratulations on the promotion, Harps. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, Dev. I’d say I’ve been waiting patiently, but we both know it’s a lie.”
“Patient is not a word I’d ever use to describe you,” he agrees.
I hear someone say, “Keegan, are you conspiring with the enemy?” right before I look over my shoulder and see Ralph walk in.
“Officer Douglas, you know I’m not the enemy,” I tell him, standing up and holding out the carton of drinks I have. “I just came offering gifts. The one on the right is hazelnut,” I say, giving him a grin.
“Well, thank you very much.” He grabs it, but before taking a drink, he says, “That’s off the record, by the way. From here on out, everything out of this beautiful mouth is off the record.”
I know he’s teasing, but I still try not to laugh. Poor Ralph really needed braces as a kid and never got them. He gives me another big smile, showing off the crooked teeth he swears he’s never going to fix.
“So what have you been up to, Harper?” he asks, parking his ass on the edge of Devin’s desk while he takes another drink.
“Well, I just got promoted today,” I tell him, “so hopefully you’ll be seeing me around here a lot more often.”
“Stay away from criminals,” he tells me. “You’re better than that. They’re not nearly as interesting as they want to believe they are.”
“The amount of readers we get for our violent crime articles would beg to differ,” I tell him. “I agree with you it’s messed up, but that’s just how it is. The sweet stories don’t get as many views.”
“It’s a sad world we’re living in,” he says, contemplating the moral decline of humanity while he takes another drink of his hazelnut coffee and shifts his weight so more of his ass is on the desk.
Dev eyes him and then moves the framed photo of his wife and daughter to the side so it doesn’t get knocked over by the large butt cheek that’s inching closer.
“Speaking of,” I say, “anything new going on? I’ll be covering the next big story, so any hints about what that might be would be greatly appreciated.”
Ralph snorts out a laugh. “Take your pick, Harper. It could be anything. I’m past the point of being surprised by the shitty things people do to one another. I thought you were covering the DeMarco case.”
“I had to hand it over to Steph, but maybe the next story will be even bigger,” I say.
“Well, off the record,” he says again, giving me a wink, “it’ll probably be more organized crime shit.”
“The Alessi family?” I ask, perking up at the thought of covering the Italian mafia.
Ralph shrugs. “Or the Melnikovs. Take your pick. They both commit more crimes than we can keep up with.” He kicks the foot of the leg he has hiked up while he thinks. “I’d love to nail either family, but I swear I’d give my right nut to catch Sasha.”