“So…” Nolan crossed his arms. “You and Colson Delacourt had a good weekend.”
“You could say that.” As much as he disliked talking about his personal life, he was too happy to hold it inside. “We’re…together.”
True happiness shone from Nolan’s face. “I am so glad you took my advice.”
Laughter bubbled up. “You? You’re going to take credit for my relationship?”
“Why not? I saw it right away at the old lady’s house. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him.” Nolan smirked. “Lie all you want to yourself, but you can’t hide from me.”
“Apparently not.” Harper chuckled. “My luck, to get partnered with the best detective on the force.” He paused. “And a best friend. You were right. I was pushing Colson away because of what happened with Ronnie, but they’re nothing alike. Ronnie ran away from responsibility and family—Colson runs toward us. We spent the entire weekend together, and there wasn’t a single second I felt like Colson wasn’t totally in the moment with us. And David loves him.”
Nolan leaned in close. “So you say. As do you.”
“Are you finished with the Dear Abby schtick now, you two?” Poole’s growl from behind had them jumping. Red-faced and annoyed at getting called out, Harper directed a death glare at Nolan before answering.
“Sorry, Cap. What’s up?”
“What’s up is I need you to review the weekend reports of break-ins and robberies to see if any of them match our guys.”
“Break-ins?” Harper frowned. “Didn’t we get that crew?”
Captain Poole’s smile was thin. “Surprise, surprise, Rose. Bad boys like to copy each other. We have another. Except this time it’s a little different.”
Poole now had their undivided attention. “How?”
“It’s not a group of men this time. It’s women.”
He and Nolan exchanged shocked glances. “That’s unusual. But not unheard of. We once collared a group of women running a neat little shoplifting ring.”
“Yeah, I remember. Both of you, go through the reports and start the process. You know the drill.”
“You got it,” Nolan said. “And unfortunately, we do.”
They set up interviews all morning and afternoon and received the same story from each victim. They would ring the bell or knock, and when the person opened, they would push in the door and punch the owner in the stomach or the face. Once they were down, their hands were tied, and they were left on the floor while the house was ransacked.
At a coffee shop near the precinct, they went over their notes. Harper chewed on some fries. “So here’s what we’ve got so far. Apparently, they hang out at the grocery store or outside banks and follow their vics home. They target the elderly and sometimes young girls walking home alone after school.”
“I swear.” Nolan sighed. “If these people would only use their powers for good and not evil, the world would be a better place.”
“But no matter that, they choose violence. And we need to deal with them.” Harper thought for a moment. “We should go to the supermarkets in the area and do some scouting. Show them the sketches and see if any of the cashiers or regulars noticed anything.”
Nolan shoved the last bite of burger into his mouth. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” Harper picked up the check. “I got this one.”
Nolan grinned. “Having a boyfriend makes you generous. I like it.”
Harper put some bills on the table. “You’re an idiot.”
They struck out at the first supermarket—they showed the police artist sketches but no one recognized the suspects—then struck gold at the bank with a door-holder, a Mr. Alvin Lewis.
“Yeah, I seen these two. They hang around, cramp my style.”
“Cramp your style?” Nolan inquired.
“I hold the door for people, and most just ignore me. Sometimes they give me a smile and a thank-you. But a few of the regulars, they give me a little something—a dollar or two, but it helps with the disability check, you know? At Christmas one of the ladies even baked me cookies and gave me a scarf and gloves.” His expression became tender. “She’s a sweetheart that Ms. Johnson. Always a kind word.”
“Millie Johnson? About five two and ninety pounds? White hair?” Harper knew it had to be Millie, but if this was her bank, he was concerned.
