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“We all have our strengths.” Baruti grinned. “This one time after we’d just moved in together I was working a case and getting home late. He kept asking me to put up this shelf for pictures or crystals or something, and I kept putting it off. Then I’m in the middle of a sting and I get a phone call from the hospital.”
“Oh no…”
He shook his head slowly several times. “This man managed to hit his hand instead of the nail with enough force he put a hole in the wall. He cuts his arm up on something behind the drywall so bad they wanted to put him on a 501 hold.”
“They wanted to admit him? To the psych ward?”
“Oh yeah. I might have flashed my badge a bit to get him home and you bet I fixed that wall that very night.”
Harper chuckled. “Put the shelf up, too?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Don’t you live here? In New York, I mean?”
“Outside the city, yeah. Not that I have time to commute home with all this.” He gestured to the laptop in front of him.
Harper stared at the floor for a moment before asking, “How do you make it work? You’re always in DC with us. So, how?”
“My husband knows the case we’re working on now is important. I asked for him to give me a year, year, and a half at most. This case could change my career entirely, put us in a much better place, and he gets that. It’s work though. A lot of it. And it hasn’t always been easy. Especially in the beginning.” Baruti studied him for a moment as if deciding whether or not to say something. “I’m not completely out to the bureau.”
Harper nodded. Given that their team hadn’t known, he’d assumed.
“I used to be a lot… I used to pass as straight. I used to play into it. My husband confronted me about how I acted hurt him and it was a real turning point for us. I decided sometime after that it was time to stop playing house and man up. Be a husband. But before that, I had to own how what I did hurt him. We couldn’t move forward until I owned that.”
Harper watched Baruti, waiting for more, but the man didn’t say anything else. They stared at each other for a moment.
The job had made Harper play a role, and while in that role he’d fallen in love with Robin. It wasn’t hard to see Baruti’s point.
“What do you do if they won’t hear your apology?” Harper asked.
“You wait and you say I’m sorry at every opportunity.”
“Ever happened to you?”
Baruti barked a laugh and leaned back in his chair. “More times than I want to admit. My husband is a saint and I’ve become very good at apologies.”
Harper chuckled and nodded, but he didn’t know if being ready and willing to apologize would make a difference. Baruti wasn’t directly responsible for his husband’s family’s death. So while Harper needed to apologize, he didn’t know if it would be enough. And the worst part? He would understand if Robin meant it when she said she never wanted to see him again.
Sunday. Recovery Center, New York City, NY.
Robin flopped back onto the firm padded chair next to Jessica’s bed.
“Careful, that’s my move.” Jessica’s words were still slurred. She’d had some pains during the night and they’d increased her medication to make her more comfortable.
“I’m so frustrated,” Robin said.
“Did I miss something? You have your meeting with what’s his face yet?”
“Yeah, thanks for the recommendation. I think he’s exactly the lawyer I need right now.” She set the tablet on her lap and dragged her finger across the screen. “I’m still stuck with Dad’s team while we figure out the estate.”
Jessica lifted her head off the pillow and blinked at her. “Figure out? What’s to figure out?”
Robin took a deep breath. “Turns out, a couple months back Dad ripped up his will and never finalized the new one.”
“No.” Jessica gripped the bedside rail and sat up a little. “Are you being serious?”
“I’m unfortunately dead serious. Saaina has agreed to go into Witness Protection, so legally she’s dead. Which means everything falls to me.” The knot of dread sitting in Robin’s stomach expanded.
