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And her baby? He gave himself a mental shake. She was a package deal. An adorable package deal, but he wasn’t ready for that level of commitment.
Was he?
Nope. He stood and headed to the small coffee maker. A good jolt of caffeine should help keep him focused on the important issues facing them.
Not his personal life.
Hearing sounds of movement from Harper’s room reminded him of her blisters. He crossed over and lightly rapped on her door. “Harper? I’ll help you bandage your feet when you’re ready.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded muffled as if she might be in the bathroom.
He poured himself a cup of coffee, then guiltily remembered she could only drink decaf. Rummaging in the small basket beside the pot, he found a package of decaf. He’d make that as soon as he’d finished the real stuff.
While he waited, he booted up the computer and began searching on Starkey, Waylon Brooks, and Tommy Grotto. They’d tried routine searches before but had come up empty. Yet there was always the possibility that something new might pop up, especially on social media. He’d heard of criminals doing illegal business through social media sites. It sounded crazy, yet they hadn’t gotten caught right away.
The internet was full of information. The only problem was that he needed to sort through all the junk and fake news to get to the real intel.
Harper stepped out of her room a few minutes later. She held her shoes and socks in one hand and the antibiotic ointment in the other. “My blisters look much better this morning.”
“Glad to hear it.” Maybe his fear of her wounds becoming infected was irrational, but he didn’t want to take any chances. “Let me see.”
She dropped onto the sofa. He knelt beside her, taking a moment to examine her toes. The reddened areas were still there, but they weren’t weeping the way they had been. He nodded in satisfaction. “They do look much better. Do they hurt?”
“Not nearly as much as before.”
“Good. I think we should put more ointment on, though. Just to be on the safe side.”
“Okay. I took a bath but didn’t shower since I don’t have anything to use on my hair.” She touched the long blond strands self-consciously. “I would love to pick up a hairbrush and some other toiletries to replace those we left behind at the American Lodge.”
“You’re beautiful, and we might be able to stop on the way home from the precinct.” He wasn’t lying to make her feel better. He took the tube of ointment from her hand and turned his attention back to her feet.
“Jesus washed the feet of his apostles,” she said in a low voice, “to show how much he cared for them. And to show how he wasn’t any better than they were, despite being sent by God.”
“Really?” He glanced at her in surprise. “I hate to say it, but I don’t know much about the Bible.”
“Maybe someday you’ll have time to learn.” He was glad she wasn’t being pushy about it. He’d never been interested enough to read the Bible, but the image of Jesus washing the feet of his apostles stuck with him.
When he finished with the ointment, he helped her with the socks and shoes. Then he stood and shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. “Ah, I forgot about the decaf, so I’ll have to make a new pot.”
“It’s fine.” She waved toward the small kitchenette. “I can heat up water in the microwave for herbal tea. No need for you to sacrifice caffeine for my sake.”
“Okay.” This constant awareness of her made him feel awkward. “Just let me know when you want to order breakfast.”
She crossed to the kitchenette to make her herbal tea. Glancing at the computer, she asked, “Are you checking emails?”
“No, just trying to find information on our perps.” He sipped his coffee, waiting for her to finish.
“Like on social media?” She wrinkled her nose. “That seems silly. It’s not like a criminal is going to post stuff on there for everyone to see.”
“No, but you’d be surprised at how many people with criminal records are actually friends with other criminals.” He shrugged. “But so far I haven’t found anything useful, so you’re probably right about it being a waste of time.”
“I’m not the expert. You are.” She took the seat next to him. The space was small enough that their knees brushed. “I gave up social media. I found myself comparing my situation to others and decided it was a silly way to spend my time.”
“I’m not on there, except for a dummy page.” He shrugged. “Most cops avoid that stuff. Rhy always said that cops were enough of a target without making it easy for people to find us.”
“True. I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She frowned. “I should have thanked you for getting me away from the American Lodge. I’m so glad Brock and Joe weren’t injured.”
“They’re fine. And you don’t need to thank us.” He didn’t want or need her gratitude. “It’s our fault for not doing a better job of keeping you safe.”
