Never Tell (Detective D.D. Warren #10) - Lisa Gardner Page 0,103

too. Sergeant Warren learned some things about Conrad.”

“Such as?”

“He definitely had secrets and aliases. But maybe they weren’t all bad.” I stare at my mother. “Maybe, some lies are for good.”

She sips her orange juice, which I’m now convinced is half vodka.

“I’m sure they’ll get back to me today with more information,” I continue. “Till then, I want to learn more about my father. Exactly who he trusted, what he was working on, sixteen years ago.”

Mr. Delaney doesn’t seem surprised. Following in my footsteps, he picks up his own glass of liquefied veggies and quaffs it down. “When do you want to start?”

“Right now.”

I leave the room to finish getting ready. As I exit, I can see Mr. Delaney cross to where my mother is sitting, a hard set to her face.

“She does love you,” I hear him murmur in my mother’s ear, his hand familiar upon her shoulder. “Unfortunately, neither one of you is any good at saying it.”

For a moment, I think she’s going to shut him down. Then, briefly, she reaches up, enfolds her hand around his own. They stand there, a second, two, three.

When my mother looks up again, sees me watching them, her hand falls away. She glares at me, her gaze as hard as ever, till I give up and walk away.

Chapter 29

D.D.

D.D. AWOKE TO THE THUNDER of footsteps. She just had time to brace herself before the bedroom door burst open and Jack came plowing into the room, Kiko hot on his heels. Boy and dog hit the bed in a single flying leap.

“Two weeks till Christmas!” Jack roared. “Daddy says we can get a tree this weekend!”

Next to D.D., Alex groaned. Jack found the space between them and started his favorite morning ritual of bouncing. Kiko, on her spindly black-and-white legs, did her best to dance around her favorite boy, while tripping over Alex’s and D.D.’s prone forms.

D.D. managed to turn her head toward her husband. “We’re getting a tree this weekend?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“We are going to find a real grown tree and cut it down!” Jack fairly screamed. “With a chainsaw and everything. Then we’re going to drink hot cocoa with whipped cream and marshmallows!”

“When he discovers coffee,” D.D. said, “we’re in real trouble.”

She managed to unpin her arms from the covers and hold them out to her very exuberant child. In response, Jack collapsed to his knees, then pitched forward into her arms. He was still vibrating. He smelled of grubby hands, syrupy pancakes, and little-boy sweat. God, she loved him.

“Will a Christmas tree survive in our house?” she asked him.

“Of course! Kiko and I will take very good care of it.”

“You can’t leap on the Christmas tree.”

“No!”

“You can’t jump around the Christmas tree.”

“Never.”

“No throwing ornaments. And absolutely, positively, no peeing on branches.”

Jack stared at her indignantly.

“That last instruction was for Kiko,” D.D. informed him. Since Jack was on top of her, Kiko had moved on to Alex and was attempting to lick his face, whether Alex wanted his face licked or not.

“What time is it?” Alex mumbled around dog tongue.

“Round bottom six,” Jack supplied.

“Oh dear,” D.D. moaned. “I gotta get to work.”

“No work!” Jack ordered. “Let’s go get the tree.”

“How about work and school today, tree tomorrow?”

Alex, one hand blocking his cheek from Kiko, arched a brow at her. First rule of thumb for a kid Jack’s age was not to make promises you can’t keep. Given the demands of D.D.’s job, that was easier said than done.

“I can figure it out,” she assured him. “For that matter, I have a new fed playmate. Maybe I can make her work tomorrow.”

“You have a playmate?” Jack asked. He’d calmed down slightly, curling up in her arms, head pressed against her shoulder. Kiko gave up on Alex, licked Jack’s face instead. The dog was very gentle about it, as if she was grooming her puppy. Kiko loved Jack, too.

“A fed playmate?” Alex asked.

“SSA Kimberly Quincy. She has an interest in my victim, who we’re pretty sure has been living under a false identity.”

“What about the wife?” Alex asked.

“I still don’t know. But I’m thinking that whatever happened Tuesday night was more than a domestic situation. Which is why”—she flipped abruptly, catching Jack beside her and tickling his sides while he giggled hysterically—“I gotta get to work.”

“Gonna catch bad guys?” Jack asked. It was his favorite question.

“Oh yeah. And lock up a few from Santa’s naughty list as well. We all gotta do what we can to