a glow on - it was all about who she was inside, not what was up with her cheeks and her eyelashes. And this expression? Pretty much made him weak in the knees.
He knew the reason for the radiance, too. He had a feeling it was because she loved where they were and who they were going to eat with: the farther away they'd gotten from work, and the closer to this house they'd become, the lighter and more delighted she'd appeared.
"Have your parents lived here long?" he asked as they got out.
"All my life." She looked around at the big oak in the yard and the little white fence at the sidewalk and the cherry red mailbox. "It was an awesome place to grow up. I could walk to school through my backyard, and there were half a dozen of us all in the same grade within a six-block radius. And, you know, my dad was superintendent of schools - still is - so I felt like he was with me every day, all the way up to college. Nice thing, believe it or not."
The street was not unlike the one the Bartens lived on, come to think of it. Very middle-class, but in the best sense of the term: These were people who worked hard, loved the crap out of their kids, and no doubt had neighborhood block parties and miniparades for the kids on the Fourth of July. Hell, even the occasional dog bark was audible nostalgia for him.
Not that he'd ever known shit like this.
"You ready to come inside?" she asked.
"Yeah, sorry." He headed around the car. "What does your mom do?"
"She's an accountant. They've been together forever - met in college, went to grad school at SUNY Caldwell at the same time. He was getting his PhD in education and she was trying to decide between number crunching and teaching. She picked the numbers because there was more money in it - and then found out she really loved the corporate stuff. She took early retirement last year and does a lot of volunteering around financial planning - well, that and the cooking."
As they hit the slate walkway and approached the glossy black front door, he realized this was the first time he'd met a woman's parents. Okay, yeah, it wasn't under the context of a "date" situation, but, man, now he knew why he didn't get close to anyone. Reilly was going to say his name, and her lovely mom and dad were going to get that frozen expression on their faces as they connected the dots.
Shit, this was a bad idea -
The door burst open before they got to it, thrown wide by an African-American woman who was tall and thin and had an apron over her jeans and turtleneck.
Reilly raced forward and the pair of them hugged so close, red hair mixed in with precisely executed dreads.
Then Reilly eased back. "Mom, this is my new partner - well, for the month, at least. Detective DelVecchio."
Veck's eyes went back and forth between the pair. And then catching himself, he quickly stepped forward and offered his palm. "Ma'am, please call me ... Tom."
The handshake was brisk but warm, and -
"Where's my girl?"
The deep voice that boomed out of the house was something that Veck would have associated more with a drill sergeant than a school superintendent.
"Come in, come in," Mrs. Reilly said. "Your father is so excited you're eating with us."
As Veck breached the threshold, he got a view down a hallway to the kitchen, but it didn't last. A six-foot-four man stepped into the space and took it all up, his shoulders set like a mountain range, his stride long as one of Caldie's bridges. His skin was dark as night and his eyes were black ... and missed absolutely nothing.
As Veck thought about The Kitchen Incident from the night before, he nearly pissed himself.
Reilly ran ahead and threw herself at her father, obviously confident she'd be caught and held with ease. And as she put her arms around him, they didn't go far - the guy had to top out at around two fifty, maybe two seventy-fivep>
As the man hugged her back, that laser stare locked on Veck. Like he knew everything his dinner guest wanted to do to his daughter.
Oh, shit ...
Tucking Reilly under his arm, her father came forward and put out a palm that was big as a hubcap. "Tom Reilly."
"You both have the same name," Reilly's mom said.