Ray Bolchoy was there, too, quietly sitting in a corner, sporting an ironic smile. Luke had said he was actually jumping for joy. That was just Ray’s style.
“It’s not the ending I wanted,” Luke was saying, referring to Peg Bellows’s death. “And I actually would have loved facing the Carreras across a courtroom for their misdeeds.”
“Rule number sixty-seven,” Bolchoy said loudly. “No crying over a dead Carrera.”
They all looked at him and his smile grew wider. “Not really a rule, but it should be,” he admitted.
“Come back to the force,” Opal said to Luke. She was tall, black, and commanding.
“I heard there’re cutbacks,” he responded, finishing his beer.
“They’ll find a way to fit you in.” She looked over at Andi and said, “Talk him into it.”
“I’m doing work for my brother,” he told Opal. “I kind of like being my own boss.”
“You’re gonna work for the defense? That’ll curl Iris’s hair.”
Luke shrugged and smiled. He’d told Andi about his ex, and then Iris had phoned him after their interview with Pauline Kirby aired earlier that week. Luke hadn’t wanted to do it, but Andi had been the one who wanted to tell her story about Carter to the world.
The newswoman had also done a segment with Detectives Rafferty and Sandler, and the overall piece had painted the Carreras as the nasty dogs in the manger they were.
An hour later they said good-bye to his pals and headed to her cabin. Luke was already half moved-in; they were going to make their living arrangement permanent. Neither of them had spoken of marriage; it was too soon. But there was a subject Andi needed to talk to him about.
As Luke pulled her car up next to his in the driveway, she said, making conversation, screwing up her courage, “I’m glad Emma’s going to be okay.”
“If the Carreras had lived, she could have testified against Brian because she saw him.”
They both climbed out of the car and walked through a misting rain to her cabin door. The willow wreath was still there, and Andi recalled Luke making it for her. She swallowed and said, as they crossed the threshold, “You know what I said about not needing condoms?” His head whipped around in surprise and she added quickly, “No, not that. I’m not pregnant. I just want you to know that my pregnancy with Greg was an anomaly. It’s unlikely it will ever happen again. I’ve been through IVF and testing and you name it, and then I lost his baby, too. What I’m saying is, no matter what happens in the future between us, that’s the reality of my life.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
They walked inside the cabin together, but Andi couldn’t leave it there. “Okay? What does that mean?”
“It means I love you, Andi. I almost lost you, and that about killed me. I never want that to happen again. I’d like to have children, sure. Maybe we can, maybe we can’t. But I’m not running out on you just because it might not ever happen.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
He regarded her steadily. “But I see your point. Maybe we don’t need condoms. Maybe we just roll the dice and see what happens.”
“Are you ready for that? I mean, if by some miracle it did happen?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She felt tears star her lashes. “Okay, then.”
“Okay, then.”
She glanced toward the bedroom, then back at Luke. For the briefest moment he was still, then he started ripping off his shirt and racewalking to the bedroom.
She was right on his heels.
*
“Caught you and Gretchen on television,” Wes Pelligree said to September as she walked into the squad room.
“Luke Denton and Andrea Wren were interviewed, too,” September protested. They teased her mercilessly about being the media darling of the department.
George swiveled in his chair. “Yeah, but Pauline Kirby just loves you,” he said. This time there was no edge to his voice. D’Annibal had called George into his office, and although she and the rest of the detectives suspected George had been reprimanded for spending too much time inside, he’d fingered Trinidad Finch’s killer and solved the case with his research.
“How’s your mom?” September asked Wes. He’d come back to work the last few days, but the situation with his mother’s health was ever-changing.
“Believe it or not, great.”
“Great?”
Wes spread his hands and smiled in relief. “One moment they’re telling me she’s unlikely to make it through the night, the next she’s awake and on the road to recovery. I’m still getting used to the idea.”
“I’m so glad,” she said, meaning it.
“Thanks.”
“It’s your turn in D’ Annibal’s office today, Nine, right?” George asked her.