Jill’s heart swelled at the sound of that voice. That wonderfully beautiful, familiar voice.
Nonna’s frown flipped into a happy grin as she spun around, shifting enough to give Jill an unobstructed view of the door.
An unobstructed view of Vincent.
He came.
He was here.
Jill drew in a long breath.
He looked…
The same.
Leather jacket? Check.
Black shirt? Check.
Dark jeans? Check.
Frown? Check.
But there were differences too.
Like the bouquet of gorgeous pink roses in his right hand. That was new.
And the warmth in his gaze when his eyes met Jill. That was new too.
“Oooh-kay then,” Elena said quietly, pushing to her feet. “Anyone else find that it just got uncomfortably warm in here?”
Elena silently held out a hand to Maggie, who was already awkwardly pushing herself to her feet, aided by Ava, who came around to grab her other hand.
Jill was only dimly aware of her three friends heading toward the door.
Only at Elena’s not-so-soft Nonna! did Jill realize what was going on…
Everyone was trying to give her and Vincent privacy.
Everyone except Nonna, who’d plopped back down in her chair and helped herself to a red Jell-O. She was frowning down at it. “What is this, cherry? Fruit punch? I’m telling you, the green is where it’s at. It’s very—”
Ava stuck her head out the door. “Luc! Anth!”
Luc and Anthony reappeared in moments, and without having to be told—they had both lived with Nonna, after all—descended on their grandmother and very gently, very firmly, lifted her from the chair and ushered her from the door.
“My Jell-O!” she shrieked.
Elena gave her an exasperated look. “You were just fussing about how it wasn’t green.”
“Yes, but if I had to choose between red Jell-O and no Jell-O—”
Vincent moved for the first time since entering the room, walking toward the Jell-O, grabbing both that and Nonna’s spoon in one hand before storming back to the group waiting in the doorway.
He handed it to Ava, who was closest, and then spreading his arms out to the side, flowers and all, he literally crowded every last one of his family members out the door.
Vincent started to shut the door before he reached out and grabbed Anth’s arm. “Nobody comes in here.”
Anth gave him a nod, and Vin started to close the door again, but not before Nonna loudly whispered to him to remember to get down on one knee.
Finally, the door was shut.
The room was silent.
They were alone.
Vincent slowly turned around to face her, his wary expression easing slightly when he saw that she was smiling.
He approached the bed until he was beside it, his right hand just inches from her own. She itched to extend her fingers. To brush hers against his, but his face was still too damn unreadable.
Vin cleared his throat and awkwardly held out the flowers. “These are for you.”
“They’re pretty,” she said as he lowered himself to the chair beside her, “but…”
His eyes narrowed. “But what?”
“Well, there’s two buts, actually,” Jill said, sniffing the bouquet. “The first is that considering you’ve been off chasing a murderer that I discovered, there’s something I want a little more than these flowers…”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Vincent lifted an eyebrow before pulling his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. He wiggled it at her. “I may or may not have what you’re looking for on this very device.”
Jill breathed out a sigh of relief. “You know me.”
Vin unlocked his phone, hit a button, and then handed it to her.
It was Dorothy Birch’s mug shot.
Jill laid a hand over her chest. “Vincent Moretti. Don’t you ever say that you don’t do romance. Where’d you find her?”
“Security cameras caught her near Port Authority, getting on a bus.”
“A bus,” Jill said. “You don’t see that every day.”
“Yeah, well.” Vincent leaned back in the chair. “You also don’t see a sixty-six-year-old woman committing sororocide either.”
“Ooh, good word,” she said.
The side of his mouth tilted up. “Only a homicide investigator would think so.”
She glanced down at the flowers. “I keep thinking that we should have known earlier. That we should have caught her.”
“You know what I’m thinking?” Vin asked, leaning forward. “I’m thinking that regardless of when we figured out it was her that you shouldn’t have gone in alone.”
“Agreed,” Jill said.
He opened his mouth, and then shut it at her easy agreement.
She gave a sheepish smile. “I’m not proud of the way I handled it. There are no excuses, really. I was stupid.”
Jill watched as his eyes turned darker. “Do you have any idea what it was like for me?” he said, his voice quiet. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to show up to a crime scene and see your partner on a stretcher?”
She reached a hand toward him but stopped almost immediately. They weren’t ready for that. Not yet.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He cleared his throat and looked away. “What was the other thing?”
“What?” she asked, not following.