Just inside the front door, there was a closet with a small gun safe. Unloading her primary and backup weapons, she tucked them inside along with her cuffs, her badge, and her credentials.
“You don’t keep something next to the bed?” he asked.
“I absolutely do,” the detective replied. “Just not this one. Racking a twelve-gauge shotgun sounds a lot more intimidating than racking a Glock.”
Harvath smiled. He liked her, more than just a little bit. The female detective smiled back and led him into the living room, where her mother was watching TV.
She made the introductions in English and then spoke to her mother for a few moments in Portuguese. He had no idea what they were talking about but assumed, by the look on the older woman’s face, that she was giving her a quick rundown on everything that had happened. She seemed like the type who would try to spare her mother any unnecessary worry and had probably watered down a lot of what had transpired. At the end, both women had looked at Harvath and the mother had appeared impressed. He couldn’t tell why. He figured Cordero had told her how he had knocked her to the ground and thrown himself on top of her to protect her from the blast.
The female detective showed him down the hallway to the guest room.
“The guest bathroom is through that door,” she said. “There’s fresh towels in there. You can help yourself to anything you need. I’ll grab some clothes and leave them here on the bed for you.”
“Thank you,” said Harvath.
She lingered in the doorway. “You’re welcome.”
He smiled again. “I saw that look on your mother’s face.”
“What look?”
“At the end, when you were telling her what happened with the explosion and everything, how I knocked you to the ground. You didn’t have to tell her that.”
Cordero laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t.”
“What?”
“She asked me where you grew up. I told her Southern California. She said you look like a surfer. I told her that was impossible.”
“Why is that impossible?”
“Because you never learned how to swim.”
She was playing with him, and he liked it.
“There’s a neighborhood place around the corner that stays open late,” she added. “We can get a drink and something to eat there.”
“What about Marco?” he asked.
“My mother will stay. Now hurry up and take a shower. I’m getting hungry.”
• • •
Cordero really put the “guest” in guest bathroom. There were razors, mouthwash, combs, everything he could possibly need. After taking a quick shower and grabbing a shave, he stepped out of the bathroom to find she had left clothes on the bed for him as promised. For the most part, it all fit pretty well.
After getting dressed, he threaded his holster through his belt, double-checked his weapon, and then put on the jacket she had picked for him. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He thought his pistol would print through the material, but it didn’t. All in all, she had done very well.
He transferred the contents of his pockets into the clothes he was now wearing, exited the guestroom, and walked up to the front of the apartment.
He made small talk with the detective’s mother until Lara emerged from her room wearing jeans, boots, and a very flattering top. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she had gone light on the makeup, focusing mostly on a shade of lipstick that drew attention to her attractive, full lips.
“It all fits,” she said. “You look good.”
“Thank you. So do you.”
“Are we ready to go?”
“What about that hug for your son?”
Cordero smiled. “I gave him one while you were in the shower, but I do want to kiss him goodbye. Why don’t you come with me?”
“Sure. I’d love to.”
Harvath followed her down the hall, past the guest room to a small room off the master bedroom. With enormous stuffed bears, airplanes suspended from the ceiling, and bright blue walls, it was the perfect little boy’s room. And asleep in his race car bed, complete with rails that made sure he didn’t fall out, was the perfect little boy.
Marco had sandy blond hair and was tan like his mother. He had cheeks that probably got pinched, a lot. He looked so peaceful, so unaware of what had happened in the world tonight. It was the way it should be. Harvath was immediately taken by the little guy. He was even cuter than the photo Cordero had shown him.
As she walked in to kiss her son,