Nixx
Harris had barely finished introducing himself when he asked whether Benny was with me.
“He is. JJ’s here too.”
“Can the two of you step somewhere Millie won’t overhear? I have an update about Donald Harper.”
I looked toward the kitchen table. Millie was attempting to fit a cardboard elevator into her motorcycle garage, completely absorbed in a problem of her own making.
I handed JJ the spatula and pointed toward the hallway. She caught the look on my face, glanced at the phone, and nodded. Benny followed me past the drawing we’d just hung on the wall.
I put the call on speaker.
“Okay. We’re here.”
“Donald Harper has been located,” Harris said. “He’s in custody.”
I stood there trying to make sense of it. We’d spent weeks checking empty hangouts and listening to people pretend
