Fight For Me by Claudia Burgoa

Chapter Thirteen

Luna

I never thoughtI’d say that I miss Harrison Everhart.

I only met him a couple of weeks ago, but last weekend we spent almost every minute together. Saturday, we drank a little too much tequila and ended up walking around the Museum of Natural History, making up stories for each exhibition until they kicked us out for being too disruptive. We weren’t, but Harrison couldn’t control his f-bombs in front of little children.

“When you have children, your wife is going to put a shock collar on you,” I told him.

He gave me a weird look and shook his head. “You’re going to be my predator mantis, aren’t you?”

“Praying mantis. It’s called praying mantis,” I corrected him, shaking my head. “Let’s get you a coffee. The tequila is still swimming in that head of yours.”

“It’s you, I’m drunk on you.”

Sunday, we went for a run in Central Park, ate hot dogs for lunch, and spent the rest of the day flying kites. It was different. I have the feeling that he’s as lost as I am about the dating world. I find myself wondering about the last time he went on a date. How long ago was it? What was she like? Maybe I’ll ask him the next time I see him, though it could be tonight or a month from now. He had a special job that only the “A team” could assist. I’m curious to know what makes the team so unique.

There is one benefit to being alone, though. I have plenty of time to work out the logistics of my current case and study my mom’s file. I have the hunch that someone tampered with the evidence; the file is incomplete. This week, I plan on going to the archives where they have the original paperwork. Hopefully, I can find out more about what happened to her. That’ll be another step closer to catching the killer. The noise of the elevator doors opening draws my attention back to the present. It opens to the foyer of Mr. Beesley’s house. I love the view of the grand window. Hazel is right next to the coat rack.

“You’re here,” Hazel yells excitedly, making me jump.

“Are you going somewhere?”

She glances at me, narrows her eyes, and smiles mischievously. “Yes, you might want to change if you want to join us.”

I look at my yoga pants and tank top, comparing them with her solid-white T-shirt and jeans. There’s nothing special about it. Even her flat shoes are bland in comparison to what she usually wears—high heels, business attire, or fashionable dresses. Her hair is tied into a ponytail, and the only makeup she’s wearing is lip gloss.

Where is she going at—I check the time—nine in the morning?

“Where are you going so early?” I remember that the past two Sundays she was gone around this time and didn’t come home until later that day.

“We’re going on our Sunday run to Brooklyn.”

“I already ran,” I respond. “You might want to change your clothes.”

“Errands, we run errands,” she clarifies. “I don’t know if you want to come with us but I hope you will!”

She opens the flap of the small purse she’s holding and pulls her phone out, tapping it a few times. “We are going to St. Catherine’s soup line,” she explains further. “And we’re short four people.”

“As in volunteering?” I raise an eyebrow, looking at her outfit again. “What’s the catch?”

She looks at the time. “That you’ll be working your butt off for the next five hours without stopping. We have to leave in about five minutes. And you’ll definitely need to hurry up.”

“Four people bailed on you?” I frown.

“As you know, Harrison is on a ‘secret mission.’” She uses her index fingers to draw quotation marks up in the air. “The other two Everhart boys and my sister are out of town.”

“Will there be press, something to cover the news?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not sure what you think about us, but we’re anti-media.” She pauses, scrunching her nose. “We don’t help to attract attention, just to help. Why, do you deliver those supply bags to the homeless just to get media time?”

Well, she got me there. “I’d be happy to help you,” I say, heading to my room.

I search for some jeans and a shirt. I put on a pair of flat shoes and adjust the bracelet on my ankle. I hear the elevator chiming. Someone must’ve arrived. Running a brush through my hair, I tie it into a bun, grab my small crossbody purse, and join Hazel in the foyer.

When I step closer, I notice she’s not alone. Scott is with her, standing close. The scene seems too intimate. She whispers something to him, and he kisses her lightly on the lips. Are they together? I feel like I’m interrupting a moment. I’m not sure if I should go back to my room to give them space or let them know I’m ready. I choose the second option.

I clear my throat and ask, “Are we ready?”

“Of course, we were just waiting for you,” Hazel answers with a flustered voice.

They step away from each other and she lowers her gaze, dusting off her jeans.

“Luna,” Scott greets me. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hello, Scott. It’s good to see you too.”

Hazel lifts her chin, straightens her shoulders and turns to Scott. “Lead the way, sir.”

The lonelinessI felt during my morning run dissipated in the rush of a busy, fulfilling day. We serve for about five hours. Hazel spends her Sundays serving at a soup kitchen. She doesn’t just serve food. She gets to know the people she’s feeding. Every person gets greeted by their name, asked how they’re doing, is offered love to give to any sick family members. She provides clothing, toys, and toiletries for the people who come to eat.

“She’s like Harrison,” Scott says, as we’re in the line, serving food.

“Who?”

“Hazel,” he comments. “They come up a little dry, but underneath their cynical posture they are the most caring people I know.”

That’s exactly how I saw Harrison at the beginning, but he’s so much more.

“Why aren’t they together?”

“They’re like twins. Two positives don’t attract.” He grinned at me. “But I think that you and Harrison could be a hit.”

“No.” I turn my gaze toward Hazel and fire back at him, “Maybe you should be with her.”

He sighs, looking at Hazel who plays with some of the children. “It’s complicated.”

I spend the rest of the day with them. Scott cooks for us. We watch a movie and I call it a night when they propose to watch a second one. I feel like the third wheel. I go to my room and get ready to go to bed. As I’m about to turn off the light, my phone buzzes. I can’t help but smile when I read the text on my screen.

Harrison: Hey, I’ll be there soon. Do you miss me yet?

Luna:Who is this?

I grin, waiting for his response.

Harrison: Silly woman. I heard that you covered for me in the soup line today. How was it?

I laugh at his response, curious about him keeping tabs on me.

Luna: It was interesting. How did you know I was there?

Harrison: I usually contact Scott when I’m back on the grid.

Grid, hmm. I wonder who Tiago contacts when he’s in and out. There’s so little I know about my brother.

Harrison: Maybe we can go together next week.

Luna: I’d love to do it again. Today turned out to be much different than I imagined.

Harrison: Wait until I’m there, we’re going to have fun :wink emoji:

Harrison: I’ll miss you for another day, but I’ll see you soon.