them together again.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Alessia, are you making this up?”
“Nope. Honest. And there’s more.”
He waited.
“My other brother’s a cop.”
“A hard profession.”
“Yeah, he’s hard in some ways, especially since he got divorced.”
“I’ll bet he’s a softie with you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I can’t imagine anybody being mean to you. You’re so sweet.”
“How would you even know that?”
“Remember how Mary Jane started crying when Professor Jolson yelled at her? You spoke right up and told him she had a right to be chided respectfully.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Word had it you bought her a coke after class and talked to her. What’d you tell her?”
“That not all men were jerks.” Even she could hear the tinge of sadness in her voice.
“You said you were lonely after your husband died.”
“God, I said a lot.” Too much.
“What about him? Was he one of the good guys?”
“Absolutely. Do you have any siblings?”
“Um…a sister. Tell me more about your cousins.”
“Not yet. I’m doing all the sharing. I want to hear three things about you first.”
“Okay, I’m widowed, too.”
“You didn’t mention it.”
He cleared his throat. “It was too hard to talk about in class.”
“I’m so sorry. But you still have to give me two more things.”
“I spent some time in community theater here in New York.”
“Yeah?”
“It was a release for stress.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“Actually, I quit my job to get my teaching degree faster. I want to work with kids. Okay, that makes three. The cousins?”
“Living in New York. You probably know about the gala where a guy shot up the ballroom of a hotel last summer?”
“He’s your cousin?”
“No, his fiancée is. Hayley. She’s the other one getting married. I’m in the wedding.”
“How do you keep all this straight?”
“It’s my life. My other cousin owns Fitzgerald’s on MacDougal Street and knows the famous O’Neils.” She grinned. “Last one: my oldest cousin was a famous movie star twenty years ago.”
He shook his head. “No kidding?”
“Nope.”
“What was his name?”
“Ronny Case?”
“As in the Rebel movies?”
“Yep.”
“I’m bowled over by your family.”
“Not me, though.” The comment just slipped out. She usually kept her lack of uniqueness to herself.
“Why do you say that?”
“Nothing dramatic has ever happened to me. I’m an ordinary widow, mother and sibling.”
“Alessia Benatti, you’re anything but ordinary.”
“What a nice thing to say. But I’m okay with who I am. All I want is an ordinary teaching career.”
“Teachers change the world one kid at a time. That’s far from ordinary.”
“Is that why you went back to school?”
“It’s one of the reasons.” He looked straight ahead. “I need directions to the house.”
She was shocked. “Are we in Hidden Cove already?”
“Yeah.” As he drove out to the lake, her directions kept them from sharing any more, and too soon, Derek pulled into the long driveway up to the front of the house. The shuttered, dark gray building shot up three stories. Big stone steps led up to a door. The deck and dock around back had been a source of joy during her childhood. She’d spent wonderful times here.
When he stopped, she turned to him. “Thank you so much, Derek.” Spontaneously, she leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “You know, you’re sweet too, to have done this for a stranger. I won’t forget how kind you’ve been.”
A quirky smile. “I wanted the trip to be easier for you.”
“That makes you even more special.” She watched him for a sec. “What’s your favorite cookie?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll make you some.”
“Chocolate Chip, of course.”
“I’ll bring them to the next class we share. Take care.”
“You too, Alessia. Have fun, but stay safe.”
* * *
As soon as he was out of sight of the house, Derek hit the steering wheel with his fist. “Fuck!” Grant Wilson would kill him if he knew the impulse Derek had given in to. He’d been working this case for five months, and the task force was involved even longer, and not once had Derek broken any rules. But he’d come to like Alessia Benatti from the courses they shared over the summer and now this fall semester. She had a quiet strength about her, an unassuming personality and—very important to him now—totally disconnected from the mess at the college.
Besides, he was lonely.
He’d happily listened to her bubble over about her family and her concern for her sons. For the hundredth time, he wished his life was that simple. Instead, he joined the bureau at twenty-two, right out of college, and started undercover work at thirty. Now, at thirty-seven, he was deeply