“I would like to be there. I think I should be there. I think people should know what he did to my son and so many other babies, before they judge her too harshly. Will you see that this happens for me?”

“I will.”

“Detective?”

“Yes.”

“Every night, I say a prayer for Marco. It helps me dream of him. But last night, I had a dream about a white boy. With green eyes. What color eyes did your Patrick have?”

Larkin’s heart felt as if it’d seized in his throat, but somehow, he managed to whisper, “Green.”

Camila made a sort of knowing sound before saying, “I think, maybe you are right… about love.”

Larkin ended the call. He took a moment to add a reminder to his calendar about seeing Camila included in Megan’s court proceedings. After, he slowly got to his feet, walked across the pea gravel, and pulled open the roof access door. He took the stairs slowly, quietly, stepping past Mr. Gabel’s door and heading down to the fourth floor. Larkin opened 4A, entered the studio apartment with its fairy lights and chugging window unit and the treasure of his heart standing at the kitchen counter.

Doyle looked up from chopping carrots. “How’d it go?”

Larkin shut the door, strode across the room, took Doyle by the hips, and kissed his mouth firmly, deeply.

Doyle awkwardly dropped the knife onto the cutting board, ignoring it as it bounced and fell into the sink with a loud clatter while he draped his arms over Larkin’s shoulders.

Larkin slipped his tongue free before opening his eyes.

Doyle said, “That was some phone call.”

“We haven’t had a first date.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“I think we should.”

“What’d you have in mind?” Doyle asked.

“Do you like night drives.”

The intercom buzzed before Doyle could answer.

Larkin released him.

Doyle walked to the speaker box on the wall beside the front door, pressed the microphone, and said, “Yes?”

“It’s Noah. Rider. Everett’s—uh—could I come up for a second? To speak with him?”

Doyle looked over his shoulder.

Larkin sighed but nodded. “Sooner rather than later, I guess.”

Doyle pressed the door lock, held it down for a few seconds, then let go. He said, while waiting at the front door, “I’d love to go on a night drive.”

“Okay.”

“But we have to invoke out-in-the-field rule four.”

Larkin crossed his arms and asked, “Always tell the truth.”

“That’s rule five.”

“I’m not letting you drive.”

Doyle grinned when there was a quiet knock. “We’ll see.” He opened the front door.

Noah stood in the doorway, still dressed in the business casual he wore to school. He held a white envelope in one hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t even want to be here, but I think it’s important.”

“Come in,” Doyle said, politely ushering Noah inside.