“Care to share? I’m a good listener.” Luis took a lick of his cone, but his eyes were focused on Colson.
He lifted a shoulder, trying not to allow his mother’s cool indifference to hurt him any longer.
“It’s pretty simple. I was feeling a little down, and I-I haven’t spoken to my mother in a long while, so I thought I’d call.”
“Uh-oh. Doesn’t sound like it turned out well.”
“I’m gay. I don’t know if you were aware.”
Luis shrugged. “I might’ve read it somewhere, but it doesn’t matter to me.”
“Well, it mattered to her and my father. And I just thought maybe after fifteen years, their feelings might’ve changed.” He fed David another spoonful and wiped his lips. “Turns out, nothing’s changed. So I started feeling a little sorry for myself, and here I am.”
“I’m sorry. But it’s their loss. As I see it, you’re a great guy.”
Colson laughed, and David laughed with him. “Luis is funny, huh? He doesn’t know me, but he thinks I’m a great guy.”
Luis didn’t join in their hilarity. In fact, he was frowning.
“Colson, look at you. Here you are, sitting with practically two strangers, feeding ice cream to a man in a wheelchair. You may say that’s not being a great guy, but from my perspective, it’s pretty amazing.”
“Well, thanks, but it’s just being a decent human being as I see it.”
“Trust me, there are way too few of those types of people asIsee it. Do you know, in all the years we’ve been coming to the park, no one has ever come up and spoken to us? They give David a wide berth, like he’s got a communicable disease. You and your friend and his children were the first to show him kindness. So thank you for seeing him.”
“We all need to be seen.”
He wished them a great rest of the day, and still feeling blue, texted Hogan, telling him about the conversation with his mother.
She’s the loser. One day maybe she’ll wake up and figure out you’re the best.
Thanks, but after all this time, I doubt it.
Want to come by for dinner?
Much as he loved Hogan, Bea, and the kids, he wanted to be alone.
Rain check? I’m going to work on the book.
On his way home from the park, he received a text from Harper, and all thoughts of his book flew out the window.
We’re close to an arrest.
Colson reached his house and entered.
Determined to keep it as informal and brief as possible, he replied:So your partner said. Still mad at me?
No.
He wondered what Harper was up to and why he was texting. It wasn’t necessary. Did he want to come over? Finish what they’d started? It would give him a chance to apologize. A thrill ran through him, while at the same time, he was annoyed with himself at how badly he wanted to see Harper.
But Harper didn’t text him back, and that only added to his frustration. Had Harper only used him that night? If so, Colson sure as hell wasn’t going to allow that to happen again.
Chapter Eight
“Another hell of a goddamn week.” Nolan stretched his arms above his head. “But we finally got our bad guys.”
“We did.” Harper studied the array of evidence they’d found. Loads of computers, phones, jewelry, and other expensive items. But not Colson’s photograph. After they’d arrested the band of thieves, Harper had spent an extra hour at the scene specifically to search for it. No luck.
