“So, this isadieu?” Tristan’s eyes shone like pieces of cloudlesssky.
“Not quite yet.” I glanced back at Jarod who was staring intently at his right-hand man as though trying to glean from his mind what had happened to the torn-jean lady. “I’m coming alongtonight.”
“Are you?” He looked at Jarod. “How . . . exciting.” He didn’t sound very excited that I was coming; he sounded miffed. I supposed they were rarely shadowed byoutsiders.
“Will you be coming along too?” I asked, as slow footsteps sounded on themarble.
The elderly woman with a dollop of gray hair hobbled into the foyer, leaning heavily on hergrandson.
“Allez-y, madame.” Tristan gestured to thestudy.
Celeste slinked behind me as I stepped aside to let thempass.
Tristan closed the door behindthem.
The wood was so thick it ate up the voices inside, yet I heard Jarod’s deep timbre seep through. “What happened to the other woman, Tristan? The one you escorted out ofhere.”
“I put her in acab.”
Celeste cranked her head to the side. “You didn’t hurt her,then?”
Tristan snorted. “No, I didn’t hurt her.” Since he didn’t flinch, I assumed he was speaking the truth. Unless he was an exceptionalliar.
I breathed a little easier. Even though I should’ve left then, let themwork, I couldn’t help myself from straining toward the study to hear what was being said. “How many people do you usually help out on days likethese?”
“I’m not at liberty to disclose that sort ofinformation.”
“Doyou help people, or is this some pretty front to hide what you actually do?” Celesteasked.
When Tristan’s eyes snapped to hers, my heart leaped right into my throat. Undermining the Mafia was probably notrecommended.
I stepped in front of her to shield her from Tristan’s serrated gaze. “What she meant tosay—”
“Is exactly what I said. I’m sorry, but I have a hard time believing you guys are do-gooders.” I knew she meant because of their sinner scores. Well, Jarod’s score. Unless she’d looked up Tristan on the holo-ranker.
A soft, unsteady voice whispered through the wood. Although I couldn’t catch all that was being said, I heard the word—prison.
I itched to press my ear against the wood, but Jarod’s demand that we leave twisted through me. It wouldn’t be right to eavesdrop. Still, I tried to collect a little more of the conversation while Tristan and Celeste stayed locked in a staring contest. The air crackled betweenthem.
I laced my fingers around her wrist to break her concentration. “Does Jarod usually go help people out inperson?”
Tristan unfastened his gaze from Celeste’s. “Depends on the help we sign up toprovide.”
“So, what we’ll be doing tonight . . . it’s not out ofcharacter?”
The door behind me groaned. Hand curled around the boy’s neck, the older woman tottered out, her gait seemingly wobblier than when she’d entered, but that could’ve been due to the tears flowing into herwrinkles.
Were they tears of relief or disappointment? As they shuffled past us, I hunted the boy’s face, hoping he’d be easier to read than his grandmother. Although his long blond bangs obscured his downcast eyes, they didn’t hide his matching wetcheeks.
Whatever they’d come for, they hadn’tgotten.
Soles squeaked on the marble, and then Tristan blurred past me, going to the woman and boy, and preceded them across the sunlitcourtyard.
“You can’t help everyone in this life, Feather.” Jarod’s deep voice rumbled toward me like a swell ofthunder.
Did he mean him or me? I supposed it didn’t matter who thisyouwas. He was right, it was impossible to help everyone, but he had the power to help so many. Had the woman and child not been worthy ofkindness?
A new theory blotted out all the others: his score had never wavered, because dangling hope that wasn’t obtainable was the epitome of cruelty and negated any good act he mightperform.
