Page 211 of Unexpected Heroine

“Fuck you. I take it back.”

“Too late. You care.” He playfully punches my arm, jostling me some.

“Whatever.”

I can see him watching me from the corner of my eye. “What?”

“You seem different.” He shakes his head, bringing himself out of whatever moment he’s having. Perhaps it’s an emotional stroke. Too many feelings. Poor sap.

“Times. They are a-changin’,” I mutter, refocusing on the mountain of emails I need to handle.

“Anyway. About my mom. I get the feeling you heard about the uh... um... Alzheimer’s diagnosis, right?”

Solemnly, I nod and meet his eyes. “Yeah. I was here when we sent Henderson to watch her after Mia was taken. That must have been scary for her.”

“Scary for all of us.” He closes his eyes, seemingly steadying himself. When he opens them again, his strength is fortified. “Mom is doing okay. Yesterday wasn’t great, but last night was better. This morning was fine. She likes Mia.” His face transforms into a widening grin. “Thanks for asking.”

We make small talk for most of the morning in between work tasks. He catches me up on our new cases and small fires they’ve put out that had nothing to do with the fallout from the trafficking house bust. I get him up to speed on the capture of Kadin Dean, aka: Skidmark, leaving out some of the shit we did to him that night. But not all of it. Klein can handle it.

After a while, his curiosity catches up to him. He puts an elbow on the desk, angling his body toward me. Quietly, he asks, “How is Lettie?”

Perhaps it’s been enough sharing today, or maybe it’s just not a subject I feel like discussing, but I shut him down. “It’s a touchy subject.”

He cups my shoulder. “If you need anything, let me know. It’s gotta be hard for her.”

I guess the news of Lettie’s departure hasn’t made it all the way around the office yet. Nice of Big Al, Leo, and Josh to keep that shit quiet.

A few hours later, Klein excuses himself to pick up lunch.

“Why don’t you swing by the house and check on Mia and your mom while you’re at it?” I offer.

He pauses at the doorway, hand resting on the frame. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks, T. Back soon.”

Once he’s gone, I pull out my personal phone where a text is waiting from my sugar bear. I saw it come through earlier but didn’t reply since I had an audience. Problem solved for now.

Fine. You caught me. My suggestion for Klein to take some extra time away wasn’t entirely altruistic. So fucking sue me.

He and Mia have their own offices in addition to our shared space in the lair. I don’t. This is all I have.

As much as I like those two, some privacy every now and then is appreciated. Like now, for example. So I can talk to Lettie in peace.

Well, talk as in text. Lettie’s preferred method of communication. Same difference.

Yesterday, she messaged me to let me know she was moving into the women’s shelter. Then she followed that up with a bratty joke about how she was sure I already knew since I’m stalking her.

Snarks aside, I love that she’s keeping our lines of communication open. It gives me hope.

And who am I kidding? I fucking love her snark too.

Sugar Bear:

Do you have cameras in this place?

Me:

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