“That was just an excuse to see your favorite girl.” I smirked at his haughty expression.

  “I don’t have favorites.”

  “I doubt that. Hope you’re hungry.”

  “I spent my lunch hour in storage at the courthouse trying to find evidence that seems to have been destroyed. The clerk likes me less right now and I fear for my safety.”

  “That normally comes with a charge of premeditation.”

  He rolled his bright, emerald eyes at me. “I wouldn’t put it past her. In her off time, she wears a lot of leather and has a very sadistic temperament.”

  “You have some very interesting friends.” I grinned as his jaw ticked with his irritation. “What can I get you to drink? I have some beers. We have iced tea and iced coffee, Savannah’s drink of choice, or water.”

  “Iced Tea would be great. I don’t drink unless I go out with the crew.”

  “Have a seat, and I’ll pour the drinks.”

  I caught Savannah showing him to his seat and motioning to it with flair. I glanced at Simon to see him watching her with a sense of indulgence, and they were both charmed by each other. Using my daughter as the peacekeeper apparently wasn’t below me.

  Once I had the table set with three tall glasses of iced tea, I took my seat. “Don’t be shy. My daughter won’t be.”

  And as I spoke, she started to load her plate down, and he rolled his lush lips between his teeth, but it didn’t hide his smile. The normally grumpy and disagreeable man didn’t fit the one at the Outreach or the one seated at my table. He was a mystery, and I’d always loved those. It was a big reason I’d become a cop when I left the Marines where I’d worked as an MP for most of my duty.

  He waited for her to be done, and then I motioned to him to make his own plate. I watched him as I made mine. Studied his expression as he took his first bite, and damn, his eyes closed.

  “Satisfactory?”

  “I might help you just for the food alone.”

  “Thanks. If you weren’t here to eat, what would you be doing?”

  “Outreach to have dinner with some of the regulars or taste-testing something Bart was trying out, and then home.” His answer didn’t surprise me.

  “You spend a lot of time there.” He tensed a bit as if he prepared for me to make some sarcastic comment, but I respected his dedication to the Outreach, the people on the strip, and his job.

  “I like being there. People have interesting life stories. Expectations are very basic there, respect and trust. You’re not judged if you’re not wearing the latest designer. Like I said, expectations are normal. What about you?”

  “Savannah and I have scheduled sit-down dinners three times a week where I cook. This is one of them. She’s a teenager and can’t be bothered to stay home with her middle-aged dad on the weekends. So, we plan our quality time during the week.”

  “Dad’s taking me to the boardwalk Friday.”

  “That’s great. I haven’t been down there in I don’t know how long. I may have been in uniform the last time.”

  He easily smiled at her, and I couldn’t help just taking him in. In our line of work, I relied on body language, and in the months since I was introduced to Detective Simon Graves, this was only the third time I’d seen him relaxed. The night in Bella Notte, at Outreach, and that night. I also remembered the way he’d defended what Carmine called his lowly profession and his tone as he mentioned expectations.

  Other than knowing his parents were the city District Attorney and the State’s Attorney who was rumored to want to be U.S. Attorney General, both from old money, I didn’t know much about his personal life. I’d done my research on Simon when I’d taken over his cases. Seen his evolution from the stiff, grim-faced man in a suit with a buzzed head to the newest incarnation. Beautiful, curly-haired man in a sweater and jeans carrying on a conversation with my kid.

  My kid kicked me under the table, and I realized I was staring and had barely touched my plate. I turned my focus back to eating and off Simon.

  “Night, honey, you go to bed. Your caffeine budget is going over.” She gave me a hug and then waved at Simon.

  “Goodnight, Savannah.”

  She made her way down the hall to her room. He lowered to sit on one end of my couch, and I went back to the kitchen to refill our glasses and bring them back out.

  “So, what are these great theories?” He was rifling through papers and reorganizing my piles and timeline cards.

  “Messing with my stuff now?” I asked as I sat down and put everything back where it was.

  “You had it wrong.” He stared straight at me as he rearranged them again with a defiant light in his green eyes.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I can go home.”

  “No, you sat at my table, ate my food…I have bribed well for your time.”

  “Now, I see, bribery.”

  “Whatever works. Now show me how that illogical mind of yours processes.”

  “Fine. A case at its most basic level is a jigsaw puzzle without the box. Abstract pieces that eventually come together, but sometimes you think they fit because they appear to. And then you find a piece way over on the edge of the table, and they suddenly don’t. Most criminals aren’t logical, not even in the planning stages of a premeditated murder. No one can ever have all the pieces, Douglas.”

  “Marcel.”

  “What?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

  “We had a friendly dinner with my kid, who I share with almost no one. Most of the people I worked with didn’t even know I had one. I think that warrants the use of my first name, Simon.”

  He gave me an eye roll before picking up the first image. “Marcel, you can look at this and say this is the exact way it is. Because you’ll learn it’s not. We had a first body drop, his fingertips burned off and teeth removed, reports show there were tool marks. Doc said, in his opinion, the victim was alive. They were tortured. Intent unknown.”

  “Did everything line up with the second exactly?” I scooted to the edge of the couch and grabbed the post-mortem report.

  “Yes, tool mark evidence said the same pliers were used.”

  “Why don’t I know this?”

  “My partner is sleeping with the medical examiner, and I get perks.”

  “Y’all have a very weird friendship dynamic.”

  “Weirdness is what we have. My gut says Carmine is the intended target. We can talk to Seamus Finnegan, but I don’t think he’s in on it.”

  “Why? Show your work.”

  “Yes, teacher. Seamus has a very simple principle. This isn’t his style. Seamus would make them kneel in front of Carmine and take the shot and then walk away. This isn’t his work.”

  “Then, if we mark Seamus off the list, who’s left?” I smiled as he listed names, one after another, without taking a single breath. “Okay, okay, who would you pick?”

  “Dekland Mancini. Up and coming, wants to make a name for himself. Getting extremely active since Carmine started taking steps back to focus on his husband and children. Dek is, how should I say this? He’s homophobic as fuck. Thinks men like Seamus and Carmine are ruining the image of the Families. Yet he also has an extreme temper, and his men aren’t any better. He could be coming into his own, maybe finding a more level-headed partner.”

  “But I sense you’re not sure.”

  “You see, over the years we’ve”—he glanced at me, and I arched my brow—“had a cease-fire arranged on the strip. Seamus and Carmine, Mancini very reluctantly, and several other gangs, all agreed that the areas surrounding the Outreach were essentially demilitarized zones. It’s a well-kept secret of the truce. Could be one of the gangs lower on the hierarchy have decided to start a war. Yet they just don’t know how to do it. What about the suit?”

  “Didn’t pan out. I know who purchased the suit, but it was arranged by a family who’s loved one’s last wish was to be buried in a two grand hand-stitched suit. That was about a year, year and a half ago.” I didn’t trust the slow smirk that lifted one corner of his full lips.

  “You’re going to love me.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because the fraud division busted a funeral home selling off clothes, jewelry, and reselling coffins about a year ago.”

  “I don’t love you yet.”

  “Patience. No wonder you suck at your job.”

  “That was a low blow, brat.”

  “Broadus Merryweather. Got caught after an exhumation exposed a pine box instead of the three grand, top of the line coffin the family paid for. District attorney’s office threw everything at him since he screwed up a case. They had to let a convicted murderer free since they couldn’t prove their case by a reexamination of the body and evidence.”

  “Still not overwhelmed with love yet.”

  “The evidence locker has a ledger of all the sales and to whom because Merryweather was one step away from filling a kiddie swimming pool with money and wallowing in it naked.”

  I returned Simon’s bratty smirk and shook my head. “Okay, you may have convinced me, but I have to see the ledger first.”

  “Suspicious.”

  “With you, always.”

  “Ouch, and to think I was nice enough to come here and help you.”

  “You came here for free food with fat content. It had nothing to do with me. Also, you want in on this case so badly you can taste it.”

  “Maybe I don’t want it at all. Maybe I just want to see you crash and burn.”

  “You’re going to hurt my feelings, Simon.”

  “I’ll need to try harder, Marcel.”

  I caught his gaze and wouldn’t let go, and his phone vibrating on the table broke the moment. And he picked it and groaned.

  “Someone showed up with your card again?”

  “Yes. Thanks for dinner.”

  “We can do this some other time. What about Saturday? My kid is abandoning me.” He seemed about to agree, and then he grimaced and shook his head.

  “No, I have something I can’t get out of. We’ll arrange something another time.” He stood up and headed for the door. I followed and waited as he put on his jacket.

  “Be careful, Simon.”

  “I’ll be fine. Some uniforms are hassling one of our kids. I just have to straighten it out. Goodnight, Detective.”

  “Goodnight, Simon.”

  “We’re not friends. You can call me Graves.”

  “I don’t know about that. You’ve been almost sweet tonight, Simon. This could work for you.”

  He opened the door. “Don’t get used to it, Marcel. I’m having a weak moment.” He backed out and closed the door in my face.

  “Such a sad, sad man, Dad.” I spun to find her giving me a pitying look that only a teenager could give their poor, pathetic parent. “Not even a goodnight kiss on the cheek, something?”

  “This wasn’t a date. How many times do I have to tell you that? And aren’t you supposed to be in bed…asleep?”

  “I was hoping you’d act right, and you’d need to be supervised.” She turned and walked down the hall.

  I returned to the couch and fell back on it, bringing my hands up to scrub them over my face. There was no way I was meant for this shit. I was a happily single, divorced dad of one pain in the ass kid; I didn’t need the complication of an unrequited attraction to Simon Graves. Too old for this shit didn’t even come close to it.

  9

  GRAVES

  My face hurt from forcing a smile for hours, and I was beyond done with the woman who’d attached herself to me. I’d finally escaped with the excuse to use the bathroom. Instead, I headed in the opposite direction, and I slipped out onto the back patio off the ballroom. I fell back against the wall in the dark and took deep breaths.

  “Don’t you look exceptionally handsome, Simon. Should’ve let the pretty curls free, though.”

  I groaned. “I didn’t think my night could get any worse.” I turned my head to look at a smiling Douglas in a tailored suit. His beard was neatly trimmed like the night we’d shared dinner. When he’d suggested we get together Saturday, I nearly said yes until I remembered the date that if I skipped would’ve subjected me to great censure at Sunday dinner.

  “What’s wrong? Not having fun?” I studied his face in the dim spotlight, and he didn’t appear as if he were making fun of me.

  “I hate this. Everything about it.” We weren’t friends, so I wouldn’t go into detail about why I was there or that my attendance was ordered so that I could become their usual prop. He already had enough ammunition, and I wouldn’t give him more.

  “That lady has her claws pretty far into your arm. She wouldn’t let you go for a second.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t ask to escort me to the bathroom so she could hold it while I took a piss.”

  He chuckled as he turned and pressed his shoulder to mine. “I can call in an emergency. It would only take a few minutes. I could even call it over the radio.”

  “It wouldn’t work. The cost of paying for it isn’t worth it. What are you doing here?”

  “A threat of activists protesting this very pretentious dinner that the money could’ve been much better used to feed the people the charity is for.”

  “And I wouldn’t disagree.”

  “They called for volunteers, and since I didn’t have anything better to do, here I am.”

  I wanted to deflect from the shitshow my personal life was, and the best way I saw was to bring up Douglas’s daughter. “Did Savannah have fun last night?”

  “She had a blast, tried to get me to talk you into coming with us. You have a huge fan in my kid.”

  “She’s amazing. She must take after her mother.” I turned away to stare off at the harbor and tried to pretend I wasn’t standing outside the ballroom of an event I didn’t want to be at. I should’ve spent that night sitting in the new server’s section or whichever one seemed to be having trouble, maybe get to see Aria and Amber. The toddler always loved spending time with me. I closed my eyes, and then I heard Marcel clear his throat, and I jerked my attention back to him.

  As he spun to brace his hands on the brick beside my head, I straightened and pressed my back closer to the wall. “What are you doing? You’re a forty-three-year-old man, an excellent cop, world-class pain in the ass. And as hot as you are in that suit, it doesn’t fit you.”

  I ignored him calling me hot because I wasn’t uninformed that I was attractive. “I’ll have you know it’s a spectacular fit.”

  “Brat.” There was no censure in his voice, it almost seemed affectionate, but I’d never really been good at gauging those things.

  “Were you making a point, Marcel?”

  “First name, huh?” I pressed closer to the wall as he leaned in closer.

  “Since you’re crowding me, Marcel seemed appropriate.”

  His chuckle was deep and warm, and I could almost say it sounded comforting. “My point is this isn’t your scene, and you’re missing dinner at the Outreach.”

  “I know, but it’s easier to keep the peace.”

  “You’re not the type to just go with the flow. You don’t want to be here, so let me help.”

  “I just have to make it through a few more hours, and then I can go home.”

  “Who’s going to rescue Amber?” He whispered the question, and I swore he moved deeper into my personal space.

  I smiled as I dropped my head forward until my forehead rested on his chin, and then I jerked back at the contact. “Doc will do it. We’re the only two who can talk her out.”

  “Fine, but I’ll be close by, just look for me in the crowd, nod, and I’ll get you out.” He dropped his arms and backed away.

  The distance he put between us allowed me to breathe easier. I had to figure out why I allowed him to push into my boundaries. Why my usual caution with letting anyone physically close wasn’t there with him. Being around my friends, I had no issues with finding another man attractive. Aesthetically, I could tell if someone was appealing or not, but again I didn’t have that urge to approach. Something about Marcel drew me in even as I wanted to knock the smug smile off his face.

  “You better get inside before someone comes looking for you.”

  I groaned, and he laughed at me again, and I eased from between him and the wall. I headed to the far exit so I could sneak in unnoticed.

  “Marcel?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m going to check the perimeter, but then I’ll be in. Just one look, and you’ll be home in no time. How about I take you out for a greasy burger and fries after you’re free? You didn’t eat any of the bland-ass dinner they served.”

  “I’d kill for a burger.”

  “Not exactly the thing to say to a man who works Homicide.”

  “You’re losing points, Marcel, a lot of them.” I couldn’t delay my return any longer and slipped through the curtains and went in search of my parents and date.

  Decades of pretending to be somewhere I hated made plastering the smile on my face easy. The rest of the evening, during networking and speeches, I unconsciously searched out Douglas. I was surprised he was always close, never out of line of sight with me. He’d arch one of his brows, and I’d shake my head when all I wanted to do was detach my date and go have that meal he offered.

  I didn’t know what the hell was going on with me. This restlessness began a long time ago. Yet the intensity of it couldn’t be ignored. I wanted my second life. If I never walked into my parents’ home again, it wouldn’t hurt me at all. Actually, my life would be less painful without them in it.

  I shouldn’t complain. I was a rich man but lived off my own money. My townhouse was my only major expense in the last twenty years. My parents’ mental and emotional abuse didn’t compare to what Remy had gone through or the countless other people I’d met. Remy would tell me not to compare my pain to another’s, that neglect could be just as traumatizing. The pain we felt was based on experiences.