“Good. Got time for a late lunch? I’m close to Darby’s.”
Vincent raised his eyebrows at that. Partially because it was nearly four o’clock. That was a really late lunch. And also because his father rarely left Staten Island these days except to go to church.
In fact, Tony Moretti was increasingly becoming a homebody as he gradually adjusted to retirement. If he could be coaxed from the comfort of his house, it would have been for a good cause.
And in the case of Vincent’s father, the only thing that qualified as a good cause was meddling in his children’s business.
Vincent was apparently the offspring du jour.
“Sure, what time?” Vin asked. If nothing else, he was curious to see what he’d done this time to warrant the lecture.
“How about… now? I’m a couple blocks away.”
Vincent rolled his eyes. Of course he was. “Sure. Meet you there.”
Vin was nearly out the door when Captain Rodriguez called his name. Swearing softly, Vin turned around.
“Going somewhere, Moretti?”
“Lunch.”
His boss frowned. “Didn’t you just go on a coffee run, like, twenty minutes ago?”
“That was for coffee. Now I need food.”
The captain crossed his arms. “You know, I’ve always been tolerant of your methods since you’re damn good at getting results, but between Henley’s leave of absence, and then the Lenora Birch case, and now Henley being out sick again—”
“I know,” Vincent said, trying to make his face look apologetic. “It’s actually for that very reason that I’m headed out to grab a bite to eat with my father. He’s determined to talk some sense into me, and I’m all too ready to listen.”
Rodriguez’s frown lifted slightly at that. “Your father? The police commissioner?”
Former, actually, but Vin wasn’t about to make that distinction just now.
“Well, all right,” his boss said slowly. “Don’t take too long. And what’s the story with your partner; is everything—”
Vincent was out the door before his boss could finish the question.
Vincent was pretty damn good at bullshitting about just about everything, but any mention of Jill still rubbed like salt on an open wound. He’d been doing his best not to even think about Jill. He sure as hell didn’t want to talk about her.
Didn’t want to talk about the way he couldn’t go to sleep because she wasn’t beside him. About how he’d handed any cases to other detectives the past couple days because he couldn’t bear to work without her.
Hell, even coffee didn’t taste good anymore because she wasn’t there to drink it with him.
Vin didn’t know how to explain any of that to himself.
He wasn’t going to start running his mouth about it to other people.
His dad, apparently, had other ideas. Vin knew it the moment he walked into the Darby Diner and saw his father…
And his two brothers.
“Shit,” Vincent said, looping onto the booth beside Luc as he glared across the table at his dad and Anth. “This is an ambush, huh?”
“Dad’s idea,” Luc said, taking a sip of coffee.
That was probably true. Both of his brothers were dressed in uniform, which meant they too had likely gotten an unexpected “late lunch” summons.
“I’m sure you put up a huge protest,” Vin grumbled.
“Hell no. I’ve been waiting a good long while for it to be your turn, Big Brother.”
“Same here,” Anth chimed in.
“My turn for what?” Vin asked.
“Oh, you know, just the usual ‘you’re being an idiot’ speech,” Luc said.
Anth’s grin was evil. “I love those.”
“Really?” Vin snapped. “Because I was there when you got said speech, and you didn’t seem to love anything about it. And you,” he said, shifting his attention to Luc, “remember that time Mom and Dad cornered you about—”
“Enough.” The quiet command came from their father. “We’re not here to ambush you.”
Anthony coughed.
“We just want to know what’s going on.”
“Nothing,” Vin snapped.
“Well, see, I’m having a hard time buying that,” Anthony said, leaning forward and folding his fingers on the table. “Because the cat’s out of the bag about Jill’s engagement being long over.”
“Cat’s also out of the bag that you two have been sleeping together,” Luc said.
Vincent jerked slightly in response. “Who told you that?”
Anth’s smile was sly. “You just did.”
“Fuck,” Vincent muttered. He was better than this.
“We just want to know what’s going on,” his father said again.
Vincent picked up the menu as a way of avoiding the question, but his father knocked it back down again. “We ordered you a cheeseburger.”
Vincent opened his mouth, looking for an argument, only to realize that a cheeseburger was exactly what he wanted.
A waitress appeared at that moment and placed a Coke in front of him, and his scowl deepened because that too was exactly what he wanted.
“Good,” his father said, correctly reading him as always. “Now tell us—”