“It’s just that, right before he collapsed, Howie told me he hated the shelter, that it made him feel suffocated. And now he has to go back there to recover? It doesn’t sit right with me. I told him he could live with me in two years, but that’s a long time when you’re in a place that feels like hell. Believe me, I know. Maybe I should pick up a job on Sundays before the bar shift. There has to be a cheap room somewhere I could rent for him. He doesn’t need much, just something warm with a bed…”
As we pull up near the NYPD headquarters, Xander turns off the car, places a finger on my lips to silence me, and assures me, “I’ll figure something out.”
I grab his wrist, pulling his finger from my lips. “No, Xander, you can’t always swoop in and handle my shit or pay for everything. It’s not?—”
He leans in and kisses me. His hand moves from my neck to my throat, squeezing gently, making me hum, the move and his bossy attitude going straight to my pussy. As he pulls back, he inquires, “I take care of what is mine. You’re mine, right?”
“I am…” I agree, then argue, “… but we’re not talking about me.”
“If he matters to you, he’s my responsibility too, just like your delightful sister,” he grumbles with a mock scowl, and I can’t help but laugh. “This is what family does, pumpkin. We’re in this together. Your bratty sister is now my bratty sister too. Ask me how I got Sophia.” I laugh again, my eyes watering slightly. “If he’s important to you, he’s important to me. Plus, I love the way you talk about me with him.” He grins. “Bearded angel? Fuck, I should get that as a tattoo or add it to my bio.”
I’m about to retort when he leans in for another kiss. “I love you. Now, get to work and let me handle things.”
“Thank you,” I murmur against his lips. “I love you too.”
He gets out and comes around to open the door for me, lifting me out of the truck. “Be good,” he whispers, slapping my ass, causing me to turn and scowl at him, but he just smirks at me.
I head into headquarters, glancing back to see him leaning against his truck with his arms crossed over his chest, watching until I’m safely inside.
Sophia is perchedon her desk as I walk into the lab. Before I can say anything, she holds up a finger, signaling for me to be quiet. Only then do I see she’s on the phone.
As I get closer, she switches the call to speaker, and an unfamiliar male voice echoes down the line. “… a problem. I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t just give out information about cars thathave been brought in, especially from a closed police case. You’d need an official police request.”
I’m shocked and glance at Sophia.Did she find out where the car went?
“I get it, Jeff,” Sophia says in her grumpy whisperer voice. “Thanks for being professional. Not many are like that these days,” she praises, rolling her eyes at me, and I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh. “But without delving into specifics, could you hint at whether it’d be worth our while to have the police request the file? I’m sure we’d both like to avoid unnecessary paperwork if there’s nothing amiss.”
There is a tense silence on the other end, and my heart beats faster. I give Sophia an anxious look.
Jeff lets out a sigh, then says in a hushed tone, “Look, I can’t say anything specific. And if anyone asks, I will deny ever having told you this. But if my memory serves me right, there were some… irregularities. It might not hurt to take a second look.”
I grip Sophia’s arm, waiting as she simply states, “Thanks, Jeff. That’s all we needed.”
A few minutes later, I find myself in the office of Captain Swanson with Sophia. I’ve never really been anywhere except the lab and the cafeteria, and I must say, the police side of this building is quite intimidating.
The office is filled with stacks of paperwork, and the walls are adorned with plaques and awards. Captain Swanson listens as Sophia explains we requested the file on my parents to verify the results and discovered some irregularities we’d like to understand. She doesn’t mention Del Moro or our suspicions that he might have tampered with the file. She states she simply wants to ensure the case was handled correctly.
Swanson is an older man with a stern face. As Sophia speaks, he frowns at her. Eventually, he rises from his desk to stand before us. “The case is closed,” he states dryly.
“Sir, we have good reasons to believe there might have been issues with the car that led to the crash. We have a lead suggesting the car might have had some irregularities,” Sophia insists, causing the Captain to let out a dismissive laugh.
“You have a lead? Lee, you’re a toxicologist. I know you do your job well, but leave the police work to us,” he retorts, and Sophia crosses her arms defensively. “Look, we’re understaffed as it is. I can’t assign detectives to old cases based on a hunch.” Sophia is about to respond when he interrupts, “Unless you bring me solid evidence, I can’t help.” He walks with us to the door and opens it, then leads us back to the hallway.
My eyes widen when I see Detective Del Moro leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed, smiling at me. “Del Moro, you’re early,” Captain Swanson greets.
“Still waiting on Anderson. We’ll be in shortly,” he replies, his voice calm and composed.
Captain Swanson turns to me, his expression sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Ms. Costa. I understand this is personal for you, but Detective Del Moro is one of our best. I trust that he was thorough with your parents’ case, and you should too.” He offers a gentle, reassuring smile and nods at Del Moro before retreating to his office.
My eyes narrow, zeroing in on Del Moro Sr., not wanting to leave him out of sight for a second now that we’re alone with him in the hallway. I can feel my heart beat in my throat just from his intent gaze on me.
“You heard him, Costa. You should trust me,” Del Moro taunts, just as Clay and Joshua round the corner, looking surprised to see us there.
“What’s going on here?” Clay asks, and I can see his protective instinct flare to the surface.
Del Moro leans in, his tone irrational as he whispers, “You know, your mother trusted me too. She made me promise toensure you and your sister wouldn’t end up with your uncle if anything ever happened to them.” He straightens up, a sly smirk forming on his face. “Oops.”
My temper flares, and without thinking, I lunge at him, fueled by anger and frustration. But Clay reacts quickly, his strong arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me away. “Kitten, nothing good comes from attacking a detective in public,” Clay murmurs.
