out.” The scar on his brow detailed the severity of that wound.
A firm grip and strong shake. “We were just there to back the real hero.” He winked at Evangeline who blushed prettily then cast a covert side-eye toward his stepson who stood awkwardly off to one side.
“We have a lot to thank you both for,” Amber echoed, shyly including Tina Babineau. “Especially for keeping Evie safe.”
Tina was the family core, drawing all sections together. Her son Oscar was nephew to the MacCreedys and Terriots, as well as half-brother to Max through their father, Rollo Moytes, in a story convoluted enough for a nighttime cable show. Small, shy, and delicate, Tina had fallen hard for the handsome detective who strove to give mother and child a normal life. Despite that past or because of it, she smiled at the other female. “You don’t have to thank us. We’re family after all.”
Evangeline made the first move, stepping from the curl of Rico’s arm to put both of hers about Alain Babineau’s middle. As she hugged tight, he hesitated for half a second before catching his wife’s teary nod then enfolded the girl in his first paternal embrace. Evie finally stepped back to announce proudly, “Now I have two dads who are heroes.”
When she extended her palm to a grim-featured Rico, it took a moment for him to force a swallow and reply, “Yes, you do,” as he engulfed that small linking hand with his own. “And we’ll always be there to protect you and your mama.” A quick, hard glance at Babineau, who quickly nodded. “Always.”
“Hey.” Oscar, a teenage duplicate of Max, took in the scene thoughtfully, “Does that make me and Evie almost brother and sister?”
All four adults came to a horrified Evangeline’s rescue to say at once, “No.”
– – –
Helen, housekeeper and kitchen wizard, appeared to announce the meal, and company moved to the elegantly dressed table. Talk gradually relaxed into everyday conversation that didn’t involve lives on the line or dangerous family secrets, until Babineau’s cell rang. With a glance at the screen, he rose with an apology to carry his business out into the hall.
Cop business, Cee Cee read in her partner’s nonverbal actions.
Though she hadn’t been called out to join him, her attention held on that open doorway, posture alerting Max, who leaned close to whisper, “What is it?”
She’d replied, “Nothing good,” when her fellow detective returned to put a terse end to the pleasantries.
“Brady made bail. He’ll be out in the morning.”
Amber’s wide gaze darted between them. “What does that mean?” Her hand gripped Rico’s with knuckle-whitening intensity.
“It means he has a very good attorney,” Max replied, tone low and lethal.
“It’s to be expected,” Cee Cee countered, watching Rico carefully. “He’ll have painted himself as a wrongfully accused pillar of the community who’s eager to clear his name and, therefore, is no flight risk. On bail doesn’t mean free. We police our own, and he’ll be carefully watched.”
Rico’s punishing stare cut to Babineau. The detective didn’t flinch. “They’re gonna offer him a deal, aren’t they? Sonuvabitch! After what he did to my family, no way he walks! He burned our home to the ground with our people still in it! The first person he’ll go after is my little brother, and then my mate. I believed you. I trusted you!”
Alain spoke with quiet deliberation. “Our instinct is to protect our ranks and the reputation of the force. If Brady goes down, the fallout’ll endanger every case he’s ever had his fingerprint on.”
“So, it’s easier just to look away and cover it up?”
“Yes.” Cee Cee’s reply rumbled like a streetcar filled with bitter experience. “But that’s not going to happen here.” She met Rico’s fierce stare without a blink. “Brady’s stink will fade in time, but if he gets away with just a slap on the hand our department’ll never escape cries of coverup. We can’t afford another PR disaster. There are good people in our district. If you can’t believe in them, trust me. Brady’s not going to skate. Not on my watch.”
Rico stood, bringing Amber up with him. With a regretful glance at Oscar, Evie rose as well as her father of the heart said with grim certainty, “It’s not about trust, Detective Caissie. I know you’ll do everything you can. But long as that bastard is breathing free air, my family might as well be behind bars. Now, if you all will excuse us, thanks for the dinner, but it’s time for me