The man waved his hands. “Just a feeling. Come and have a seat and some tea.”
“Thank you.” With Rob next to him, Paul sat across from Mr. Singh. Several candles flickered between them on the round table. “We’d like to talk to you about the threat you received last night. Would you mind going through what happened? If there’s anything you might’ve forgotten to tell the responding officers, even if you think it’s too small a detail to mention, please let us know.”
A woman holding a teapot, her hair tucked under a headscarf, joined them at the table. “Good afternoon. May I offer you some jasmine tea?”
“Thank you.” Paul waited until she’d poured them the fragrant beverage and took a sip, enjoying the floral taste. “Are you Mrs. Singh?”
“Yes.” She laced her long fingers together on the tabletop.
“I’m Detective Paul Monroe and this is my partner, Detective Rob Gormley. We’re working the cases of the break-ins along Main Street. We’d like to hear from you as well about the threat you received, and as we said to your husband, any detail, no matter how small, please let us know.”
They glanced at each other, and Mr. Singh nodded. “Very well. We weren’t going to say anything, but…” His hand tightened around his cup. “We left India because our families didn’t approve of our marriage.”
“Why is that?” Rob asked.
“I am Hindu, and Rana is Muslim. It is frowned upon by the elders in our families. So we came to America and made a life for ourselves.” He smiled. “The American dream, no? We lived in Newark, New Jersey, but when we were robbed for the third time, Rana said to me, ‘Mandeep, enough is enough. I want to live in one of those small towns like we see on television. A house with a picket fence where our children can play in the yard and we wouldn’t have to be afraid.’ So we looked and planned and decided Thornwood Park was perfect. And for the past five years it has been.”
“But something’s changed?”
Singh nodded. “Yes, unfortunately. We’ve had phone calls here at the restaurant, telling us to go back where we came from. My tires have been flattened and paint thrown on our front door.”
“Have you reported it?”
Mrs. Singh spoke up. “No. I told him not to. We cleaned up the messes and went on with our business. At first we thought it was silly mischief and they’d get tired of it.”
A deepening anger filled Paul’s chest. “But that didn’t happen?”
“No.” She met his gaze, and Paul saw her strength in those dark eyes. “We aren’t going to run, Detective Monroe. We belong here as much as anyone. After last night, we decided we can’t let this happen anymore.”
“We found this under the door.” Singh slid a piece of paper across the table.
With little hope of finding fingerprints on the note, Paul took it from him and blinked, his heart stuttering in his chest. Without speaking, he handed it to Rob.
“Jesus,” Rob whispered, and his hand shook. He set the note on the table, and Paul couldn’t keep from shooting glances at it.
A crude drawing of an Iron Cross with a grinning skull inside it stared up at them.
Chapter Six
“Mom, I swear everything’s okay. You’re talking to me, right?”
A headache throbbed at Cliff’s temple as he lay sprawled on the sofa, where he’d been on the phone, attempting to relieve his mother of the idea that she needed to rush to his side and take care of him. He wasn’t a child any longer, and the bubble of resentment that still lived inside him over their long estrangement popped to the surface. He’d needed her when he was twenty-one and alone. In his thirties now, he was perfectly capable of handling himself.
“Yes, but—”
“No buts. The news is making more of it than they should. Yeah, someone fired through the window, but the police are on it. In fact, Paul is the detective on the case, so I’m sure, knowing him, it’ll be solved by the end of the day. Most likely it was some random, stupid idiot taking potshots.”
“That’s not exactly comforting to hear. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Of course,” he responded automatically. “We’ll stop by to see you this week, when Paul lets me know his schedule. You’re feeling all right?”
“Yes. Stronger every day. Tomorrow I’m going to do some planting in the backyard and try to start up my vegetable garden. It’s been ages since I’ve been able to do it, and I can’t wait.”
“That’s great. Maybe I’ll do that too. I think I have some seeds. I’ll talk to you later, Mom. Say hi to Dad.”
“Okay, bye.”
He disconnected with renewed purpose to get off his ass and, contrary to what he’d told his mother, stop dwelling on the shots, Cliff rummaged around in the mudroom until he found packages of seeds and, armed with his trowel and a watering can filled to the brim, he spent the rest of the afternoon happily mucking around in the dirt. At six thirty, he stood and surveyed the neatly turned rows, where hopefully in a few months he and Paul would have a nice crop of vegetables to use for their meals.
“Maybe tomorrow I’ll stop by the nursery and pick up tomato plants. Oh, and strawberries.” Cliff conversed with himself as he shucked off his clothes and walked into the bathroom to take a shower.
Mud and grass stains sluiced down the drain as he soaped himself up, and he sighed, letting the hot water pound over his sore muscles. He flexed his shoulders, hoping to draw out the kinks from the afternoon of bending and digging.
“Need some help?”
Cliff opened his eyes. Paul stood in the doorway, eyes weary, jaw dark with stubble, a bit rumpled, and always incredibly desirable. A slow smile broke over his handsome face, and Cliff returned it.
“If you’re offering…”
“Be right there.”
In two minutes, Paul’s very hard, muscled body pressed him into the cool tiled wall, the weight of his erection thrusting against Cliff’s stomach.
“And a good evening to you.” Cliff smiled into Paul’s shoulder.
“It’s about to get even better.” Paul gazed into his eyes. “Do you know how good it feels to know you’re here when I get home? All the shit I see every day, all the terrible things people do to each other, it all fades away for a little while.”
At those intensely personal words, Cliff’s heart pounded. Paul wasn’t the type to open up often. “I know. It means everything to have you here with me.”
Paul cupped his chin, dark-blue eyes blazing, and Cliff held his breath. “I love you. When you told me about someone shooting through the window, my only thought was, ‘What if I lost you?’ And I knew I’d be lost too.”
“You’ll never lose me.”
Their lips met, and with the water cascading over them, Cliff poured all his love into their kiss. Their movements grew frantic and needy, and Paul reached behind him to shut the water off.
“Come on.” Naked, wet, and hard, he left the shower, and Cliff allowed his gaze to roam hungrily over Paul as they dried themselves. “Enjoying the view?” Paul asked, quirking a brow.