“I didn’t bribe anyone.”
Luc turned to see his father standing in the doorway, looking every bit as authoritative as he had in his police commissioner days.
Luc stood so he was eye level with his father. “You said you called in favors.”
“Different than bribery. I didn’t cross any ethical lines.”
“Bullshit!” Luc exploded.
“I took them to beers!” his dad yelled back. “I asked them to keep your name out of it. They agreed. That’s all there is to it. I made it clear that it was a personal request, not a professional one.”
“And the ‘favors’ you called in?”
His dad shrugged. “I helped Joe move. I gave Anna’s daughter an exclusive interview for her high school newspaper. I don’t remember the others, but I assure you they were every bit as tame.”
Luc sat back down. “What about Mike? And Shayna? They deserved a mention.”
“Luc.” This from his mother. “Do you really think your father wouldn’t have checked with their surviving family members first?”
Luc’s mind went blank as he met his father’s troubled gaze. “Did you?”
His dad came into the tiny room, lowering himself next to his wife on the love seat.
The scene was familiar. How many times had Luc sat across from his parents in this very room, sitting in this very chair? Through bad news. Lectures. Good news.
When they’d told him about the death of his grandfather.
When they were upset about his report card.
When he’d gotten his college acceptance letter.
“Luca…” His dad’s voice was tired. “Beverly Jensen didn’t want a spectacle made of Mike’s death. She and I spoke about it at length.”
Luc lifted his chin. “Mike deserved to be recognized for his service. And his sacrifice.”
“And he was recognized,” Tony said, hitting his knee with his fist. “He damn well was. Hell, you went to the ceremony!”
“Yeah, so a bunch of fellow cops celebrated him. He deserved for the world to know what he did.”
“Yeah?” his father asked. “And how’s that working out for you, son? You enjoying the world knowing what you’re up to? You like being celebrated?”
Well…shit. Luc walked right into that one.
“It’s different,” Luc snapped.
“Is it?”
His mother wasn’t smiling anymore, but her voice was still calm. Gentle. “You knew Mike as well as anyone, Luc. Would he have wanted his face plastered all over the newspapers? His name bandied about on the evening news by talking heads that didn’t even know him?”
Luc rolled his lips inward as he considered. “Mike would have hated that. So would the Johnson family,” he said, staring down at his hands. “They were desperate to avoid media attention during the entire ordeal. They only wanted their little girl back.”
Tony nodded. “You went to see them after the funeral.”
Luc met his father’s eyes. “How did you know that?”
“Because I went to see them too. And I’m guessing they told you the same thing they told me. That they only wanted to be left alone to mourn their baby.”
“They should have wanted justice,” Luc said, swallowing a bitter lump in his throat. “They should have wanted the whole world to know that a cop could have saved her and didn’t.”
“Don’t you dare, Luca,” his mother said, her voice as sharp as he’d ever heard it. “Your brothers told me you’ve been subscribing to this nonsense, but I won’t tolerate it in my house.”
His head shot back a little. “You won’t tolerate what? My remorse?”
“Your misplaced shame. You want to bully your brothers with it, that’s their problem, but under my roof, you’ll leave the pity party at the door.”
“Pity party? Two people are dead, Mom!”
“And those two people deserve more than your sulky martyrdom!”
Luc stared flabbergasted at his mother’s outburst. For starters, Maria Moretti didn’t have outbursts. And second, sulky martyrdom? That’s what she thought he was about?
Something nagged the back of his neck.