Jordan laughed. “He had to work this morning. All the time he took off taking care of my problems cut into his own work. So he’s putting in some extra hours.”
“Hmph. They work him too hard there.”
Jordan knew how Wanda disliked the crazy hours and competitive world Lucas lived in, but the fact was Lucas loved it and was damn good at it. “It’s his life, Wanda, and he’s his own man. Besides”—he took her hand and sat with her at one of the empty tables in the back—“it won’t be like this forever. If he makes partner in a few years, he can slow down.”
“And how are you doing? Okay now?” She searched his face. “No more secrets and problems, right?”
Heat rose in Jordan’s face, but it was a fair question. “I’m getting there, and no. No more secrets. I’m done with that and so is Lucas.”
“You’re ready then, to make a commitment with him. It’s not too soon for you? I know you think I’m a nosy lady, but that’s my baby, and I don’t want to see him hurt again.”
Fair enough. And it wasn’t like Lucas hadn’t gone through the third degree with Drew’s grandmother. “I never expected it, to be honest. But sometimes it sneaks up on you and knocks you down.” Over the past year, he’d been flayed to the bone, his skin stripped and bloodied. The last thing he expected to find in the darkness was love. “Maybe all we’ve had to slog through, the tragedies and triumphs, will make us appreciate what we mean to each other. I’ll never let him down, Wanda.” Jordan handed her a tissue as he watched her eyes fill. “He gave me back my life.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks as she sniffled into her tissue. “All I’ve ever wanted was for that boy to be happy and find someone to love who’ll love him back. He was so lost, even though he tried to pretend everything was under control.”
“Making up with Ash helped the most.”
She crumpled the wet tissue in her hand. “Thank God for that as well. He needed to do that. And I pray every day they find their youngest brother.”
He patted her arm. “I hope so too. Now where is Troy?” He looked around the room for the big man from the shelter who ran the gun collection program and acted as their liaison with the police department. He spotted him by the computer room, and when Jordan caught his eye, Troy beckoned him over.
Jordan made Wanda promise to come by for dinner in the next week and said good-bye, then hastened over to Troy’s side. “How’s it going, man?” They exchanged the obligatory handclasp and back slap.
“Good, good. We got lotsa my guys on the street sayin’ that they’re down with this, ’cause you’re helping the kids.” He shot Jordan an unreadable look. “It’s all about the kids.”
“Always, Troy. The longer the kids stay out of trouble, the better chance they have of making it through school. And an education is the most important thing to help get people out of the shelter system. So what’re the numbers looking like?” They walked as they talked, heading to the office in the back. Jordan unlocked the door and flipped on the light switch. He took a seat behind the desk and logged on to the computer. Troy stood behind him.
“Pull up a chair; make yourself comfortable.” After Troy got settled, Jordan opened the database they’d set up to track the gun-turn-in program. A few more clicks and he turned to face Troy with a wide smile.
“This is fantastic. Troy, you didn’t tell me you brought in fifty guns in the past month. Way to go.” His good humor faltered when Troy failed to return his smile. “What’s wrong? Did I get the number wrong?”
“Nah, man.” Troy shook his head. “It’s right, but it’s so useless, you know? Does it really matter if we bring in fifty, when we know there’s hundreds more out there?” His dark eyes searched Jordan’s face. “Is this doing anything, really?”
Jordan toyed with a rubber band for a moment before shooting it across the desk. “Do you vote, Troy?”
“Yeah, sure. I couldn’t wait to turn eighteen for that.”
“Well, a lot of people don’t. They think their vote doesn’t matter, so they stay home; then they wonder why things don’t ever change. They continue to complain, but they don’t participate in the process to make the change happen.” A wry smile broke over Troy’s face as Jordan spoke, and he knew the man understood the point he was trying to make. “A single vote, in and of itself, doesn’t matter, but when you partner it with everyone else’s vote, it gives you power. Strength in numbers. So one vote, one gun—it all adds up.”
Troy sat a moment. “I never thought of it that way, Doc. You’re all right, you know?”
“Yeah, I like to think so.” Jordan laughed.
“I don’t know many gay guys.” Troy’s gaze focused anywhere but on Jordan’s face. “Um, but I think you and Luke are cool.”
“Thanks.” His phone rang, and once again it was Neil. He held up a finger to Troy. “Hang on a sec, I have to take this call.”
“Neil. What’s up?’
In the background Jordan heard the once-familiar sounds of the hustle of the police precinct as Neil spoke. “Listen, Jordan. Johnny wants to talk to you. Like I said before, it’s a little unorthodox, but we’re anxious to find out who his supplier is, so we’re willing to go the extra mile, so to speak.”
Jordan checked his watch. “I’m finishing up some stuff here at the center, but I can be there in say, an hour or so? Does that work for you?”
“Perfect.” The relief in Neil’s voice was evident. “We really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I want to catch the guys who did this too. Plus, I’d like a shot at helping Johnny, if I can.” Jordan studied the pictures on the wall of the smiling kids and came to rest on the one of Keith taken on the day he was awarded his detective shield. “It’s the least I can do.”
Jordan spent another half hour going through the rest of the gun program numbers with Troy. Wanda had promised to look after a little girl until her mother returned, but the child looked so sad Jordan took her in his lap and read her a story and helped her draw a picture. When he said good-bye to everyone, she tugged at his jacket and gave him a hug around his leg for a moment before running to the back and hiding behind Wanda.
