To Love a Cop

His smile had her staring. “No.” He let the smile go. “I’d shame him.”

She didn’t so much as blink. He absolutely couldn’t tell what she was thinking. But then her fingers uncurled from fists and she gave a sharp nod.

“You’re right.” She turned and marched up the narrow concrete walkway.

Ethan was right behind her. He was damned if there’d be any bloodshed today.

Before they reached the porch steps, the front door of the nicely cared for house of 1930s or ’40s vintage opened and a man stepped out. He advanced to the front of the porch, giving him the high ground. A dark-haired woman hovered just inside the house. Ethan kept his attention on the man, who was unmistakably Matt Vennetti’s brother—and Jake Vennetti’s uncle.

After barely flicking a glance at Ethan, he stared insolently at Laura. “What do you want?”

“Hello, Tino,” she said with remarkable restraint. “Renata.”

The woman faded back.

“I’m here to ask you why you’re going out of your way to hurt a child. A child who is related to you.”

His lip curled. “He murdered Marco.”

Ethan laid a hand on her lower back. He felt the quivering tension in her muscles, but he also would have sworn she had leaned back into his hand, just a little.

“He was five years old, Tino.” She raised her brow and again looked past him, where his wife was an indistinct shadow in the foyer. “Last I knew, you were expecting. Did you have a girl or a boy?”

There was a moment of silence. “A boy,” Tino said stiffly.

“Who would be...maybe six now?”

His jaw muscles knotted. He didn’t say anything.

“In kindergarten, I guess.”

Still nothing.

“Probably six months older now than Jake was when he thought it would be fun to show off his daddy’s gun to Marco. He wanted so much to grow up to be like Matt.”

For all that she kept her dignity, the grief in her voice and on her face was shattering.

“Can you tell me that your little boy hasn’t tried to get his hands on your tools, even when you told him he can’t touch them?”

The expression on Tino’s face shifted.

Ethan didn’t know what he did for a living, but her shaft had struck home, he could tell that much.

“You didn’t see Marco.” She shuddered, and then steadied herself. “After. I did. You didn’t hear Jake screaming. Do you know he didn’t quit screaming until we had him sedated? Do you know he wouldn’t talk for weeks? That he had nightmares for years?” Her voice had fallen to a whisper. She stared her brother-in-law in the eye, and then shook her head. “But no.” She resumed a normal conversational tone, making sure the woman inside heard her, too. “Because you never again set eyes on him, did you? Nobody from your family did. None of you cared at all about the five-year-old boy, your own flesh and blood, who will be haunted for the rest of his life by the terrible thing that happened. A tragedy that was not his fault. Because he was playing. Until that unspeakable moment, all he knew about guns was what he’d seen on cartoons and that his daddy, the hero, carried one. Now, his own cousins are making his life so much harder.” She shook her head and finished quietly, “You should be ashamed of yourself, Tino.”

Then she turned, drawing Ethan with her, and started back to her car.

“Laura.”

She paused. Ethan looked over his shoulder.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Tino said hoarsely. “Mama—” Then his throat worked and he bowed his head.

Laura resumed walking. When they reached her car, Ethan stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Are you okay to drive?”

He felt her fine tremors, but she was steadier than he’d expected.

“Yes.” She hesitated. “I think so.” Her eyes met his. “Thanks to you. I...I might just sit here for a minute.”

“Okay.” He let one corner of his mouth tilt up. “You did good.”

She almost smiled, but not quite. “Thank you. Um...have they gone back inside? I can’t let myself look.”

“Yeah. I think he’s crying.”

“Good,” she said fiercely.

He smiled and hugged her, letting her go before she could protest. “I’ll follow you home.”

She took in the badge at his waist. “Aren’t you working?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She took a swipe at them and hurried around her car. When she opened the door, he bent to see that she’d left her keys in the ignition and her purse on the front seat. From what Jake had said about the way she stormed out, it was probably a surprise she’d remembered to bring her purse.

“See you there,” he said with a nod.

Over the roof of the car, their eyes met, and his heart skipped a couple of beats at what he saw in hers before color washed over her cheeks and she climbed in and slammed her door.

Feeling uncomfortably light-headed, Ethan got into his Yukon, where he sat looking at the back of her head and wondering what in the hell had just happened.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_215b5d71-64aa-5167-9dab-d585178a6954)

LAURA PARKED IN front of the house instead of driving into the garage and waited for Ethan to get out of the big SUV that had ridden her bumper all the way. She was embarrassed to feel so grateful for his insistence on accompanying her home. She knew that, at the least, he’d listen patiently and that he was nonjudgmental.

She saw him putting his phone back on his belt as he walked toward her, which meant he’d taken a call during the drive. Her eyebrows pulled into a frown.

“If you have to go, it’s okay.”

He shook his head, wiping his face clean of whatever irritation or frustration he felt. “It was just an update.”

“Oh.”

“I assume Jake’s home?”

She made a face as she led the way onto the porch. “Unless he’s decided to run away.”