Adrian stared at it. “Really?”
“Really,” said Simon, giving him a stern look, though Adrian knew it was just because he felt guilty that the idea of a homemade breakfast was worthy of suspicion. “We’re starting a new family tradition. Breakfast together once a week. Now get some bacon and sit down.”
Adrian suppressed a smile and did as he was told. Hugh and Simon liked to start new family traditions every few months, and over the years had cycled through everything from Friday board-game nights to summer picnics at the park to a short stint in which they agreed to all go jogging together at six a.m. every morning, which had lasted exactly one day. Adrian knew it was their way of trying, as though after all these years his dads still weren’t convinced that the three of them really were a family.
So Adrian, who loved his dads, the men who had taken him in without a second thought after his mother died, accepted four slices of bacon and sat down at the bar. “Does this new family tradition come with fresh-squeezed orange juice?”
“Don’t press your luck,” said Simon, making up a plate for himself.
“So,” said Hugh, dumping a stack of junk mail into the garbage bin. The Council kept saying they were going to start up a citywide recycling program one of these days, but it, like so many of their aspirations, had yet to become a reality. “Are you looking forward to having a new teammate starting today?”
Adrian blinked. He’d been so focused on the tattoo he’d nearly forgotten about Nova McLain.
Nearly.
“Yeah,” he said, breaking open his scone and slathering it with butter. “I think we’re all really excited to have her.”
Simon shook his head. “When she opted to go against Gargoyle, I thought she was out of her mind. But I was impressed with how she handled it. We need people who can be resourceful like that, who can think fast during an altercation.”
Adrian smiled wryly at the term altercation. At some point his dads had gone from talking like superheroes to talking like police chiefs, and he wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened.
“I just hope you all work well together,” said Hugh, shredding open an envelope. “Chemistry is important on a team. And you all seem to have a good thing going so far. Hopefully she’s a good fit.”
“But if not,” said Simon, “we’ll be able to find a place for her. She was a good choice, Adrian. I’m not sure what made you accept her, but I don’t think anyone will be questioning whether or not she deserves to be a Renegade after that showing.” Reaching across the counter, he nudged the pile of mail aside and replaced it with a plate of food. “Hugh. Eat.”
Hugh glanced down, momentarily surprised, then picked up a strip of bacon and chomped it in half.
“Out of curiosity,” said Simon, buttering his own scone, “what made you pick her? I didn’t think you were looking to add to the team.”
Adrian took a big bite and realized after the fact that it might have been a subconscious attempt to give himself a bit of time before responding. He took a swig of his long-cold coffee and shrugged. “Intuition, I guess.”
“Intuition,” parroted Hugh, nodding, as if Adrian had just spoken with great wisdom. “It’s important to listen to those feelings when you have them. Strong intuition can save lives, especially in our line of work.”
Adrian set down his mug. “Right. On that note … how’s the Nightmare investigation going?”
Simon picked up his plate and came around the bar, claiming the stool beside Adrian. “You’re still concerned about her?”
“Concerned that there’s a would-be assassin on the loose in our city and we have no idea what she’s capable of or what sorts of connections she might have? A little, yeah.”
Simon cast him a vexed look. “We might have received a promising new lead yesterday, as a matter of fact. We’ll be looking into it more this afternoon.”
“The gun?” said Adrian, attempting nonchalance. “The one that’s been linked to Gene Cronin?”
Hugh glanced up. “You were eavesdropping.”
“I was getting a snack. If it was top secret, you shouldn’t have been talking about it in the dining room.”
Hugh and Simon exchanged glances.
“Yes,” said Simon. “We can’t say for sure if the Librarian sold her that gun, but we’ll be looking into it.”
“You’re going to question him?”
“Not immediately,” said Hugh. “If he’s still involved in illegal weapons dealing, then to approach him too soon, without sufficient evidence, could put him on the alert. Could make him halt whatever dealings he’s involved with.”
“That gun isn’t considered sufficient evidence?”
Simon shook his head. “It could have been making its way through criminal rings for the last ten years. Until this gun came into our possession, we had no reason to believe that Gene Cronin was still in the trade. As far as we can tell, the Vandal Cartel disbanded after most of their members were killed in the Battle for Gatlon, and Gene Cronin hasn’t shown any sign of participating in illegal activity since. That gun could have passed through countless hands before making its way to Nightmare.”
“But you don’t think that’s the case,” said Adrian. “You do think he’s still trading, right?”
Hugh smiled wanly. “We think it warrants looking into.”
“We’ll probably start with surveillance on his library,” said Simon. “He’s a recluse, so if he is still working on the black market, chances are good that any business happenings are taking place there. We’ll scout out the place for a while, watch for any indications of illegal activity.”
“But that could take days … weeks, even. Why not just go in and search the place?”
“Without significant evidence that he’s committed a crime?” said Simon, sounding offended at the idea.
“Oh, come on,” said Adrian. “He’s a gun dealer. He’s a criminal. Why defend him?”