Then There Were Three. Jeanie London

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СКАЧАТЬ step back and asked, “You’re not going to melt down about my nose, are you?”

      “Saving the meltdown for later.” Megan’s return was deadpan. “It’s coming, though. Be forewarned.”

      Violet narrowed her gaze in a look that was all surly teen and lightning-fast mood swing. Megan turned enough so he saw her narrow her gaze and scowl right back, giving as good as she got.

      Everyone watching the exchange had the sense to keep their mouths shut—even Damon—as Violet flounced to her seat of honor at the head of the table.

      A miracle for this family.

      Violet motioned Megan forward. “Come on, Mom. Sit down. Do you know everybody? If you don’t, I’ll introduce you.”

      She demonstrated such a curious mix of youth and maturity that Nic suspected was a function of her unusual upbringing. And being an only child. He’d heard that made a difference, too.

      Damon was the one to rise and drag over a chair, making some crack about butt space for the chief’s baby mama. Nic didn’t get a chance to respond because little Rocco made a play for the serving fork in the lasagna pan and Anthony intercepted with a loud, “I don’t think so, buddy.”

      Then the moment passed and, looking somewhat shell-shocked, Megan sat—she didn’t really have a choice—while Nic stood his ground in the doorway, envisioning the headline: Chief of Police Arrested on Alleged Murder Charge.

      Only there wouldn’t be anything alleged because he was going to kill Damon one of these days. Guaranteed.

      The only thing saving him right now was paralysis from watching Megan and Violet together…a family of two.

      Except he was here. Standing in his mother’s kitchen surrounded by his family with his daughter and Megan.

      What in hell did he do with this?

      Suddenly, his mother appeared beside him. “How are you holding up?”

      He shook his head. He didn’t have an answer for that, either. She knew better than anyone how much Violet had sandbagged him. Was probably the only one on the planet who’d been privy to the intensity of his relationship with Megan all those years ago, his confusion over the way she’d dropped out of his life so suddenly and completely.

      “How could she not tell me?” That was all he could manage to say.

      Glancing at the table, his mother frowned. “I don’t know, Nic, but give it time. This is a big shock for all of you.”

      “All of us?”

      “Violet told me she found you on her own. Megan had no idea she was coming here.”

      That much he already knew. “I’m not interested in how Megan feels right now. And you’re about to be down one son if Damon doesn’t get some manners.”

      His mother rolled her eyes. “Finding out you’re a father is not your brother’s fault.”

      “No, but it is his fault I didn’t get any sleep last night. A few hours and all this might not feel so shitty.”

      She arched an eyebrow in a skeptical expression. “You think?”

      Dragging his fingers through his hair, Nic wondered if there was any possible way he could bow out of here. Claim he had to get back to work, which wouldn’t be a lie. He was the damned police chief and he’d waltzed out of the station and not looked back. Hell, he couldn’t even remember his schedule for the day. Did he have appointments? He always had appointments. And crises. Hadn’t he given up this family drama? He was sure he had.

      “Give it some time, Nic,” his mother said. “I know you haven’t asked for my opinion, but if you’ve never listened to anything I said before—which you haven’t—do yourself a favor and listen to me now. What’s happening is important. Violet and Megan are your family whether you were aware or not. You’ll want to make sure you react in ways that count.”

      He wanted to argue that Megan wasn’t anything but someone who hadn’t had the courtesy to share some essential facts, but technically, his mother was right.

      Whether or not he’d known he’d fathered a child. Whether or not he’d seen Megan yesterday, six months or fifteen years ago, if a DNA test proved he’d fathered Violet, then the law considered him and Megan intimate partners.

      He didn’t need a DNA test, or his name on a birth certificate for that matter, to know he’d fathered Violet.

      His mother reached up and patted his cheek. “Do you have any idea how long they’re staying?”

      “Megan said as long as it takes. Whatever that means. She’s planning to get a hotel—”

      “Her parents aren’t in town anymore?”

      “She said they are.” He shrugged. “I don’t have a clue what’s up with that. She said they’d get a hotel.”

      “No. They’ll stay here.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “They’ll stay with me.” His mother nodded decidedly. “Bring their stuff upstairs, will you please? Put Violet in Damon and Vince’s old room. Megan in yours.”

      Arguing would be a waste of time. Nic might have even considered saving Megan from publicly going head-to-head with his mother had it not been for his concern about Violet. He still had to get her down to the station to give a statement.

      He needed Megan to do that.

      Violet was a minor. Megan was her legal guardian. Fathers who weren’t on birth certificates had no authority. In this case, though, the only difference that made were the potential ethical questions.

      Jurado had taken one look at Violet and known she was a DiLeo. All sorts of questions could arise if and when someone found out Violet belonged to him. The press had been having a field day looking for any damned thing they could find to question his appointment. An illegitimate daughter would sell a lot of papers.

      Until Nic got a grip on whatever was going down with the judge, he wasn’t comfortable with Violet staying at some random hotel. Big Mike might not be talking, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have anything to say. Violet had seen a kid passing off an envelope to the judge. Add that envelope to the equation, and Nic had a little mystery on his hands. One that stank of graft. One the U.S. attorney would want to know about.

      Judge Hugo Dubos was a remnant from an embarrassing past, an era when public corruption ran as rampant as the criminals on these streets. No one had evidence to convict him of anything, but he was a weak link in the judicial chain, part of an ugly cycle that undermined the police department’s best efforts to clean up this town. Nic wouldn’t be surprised, and didn’t think anyone else would be either, to learn Dubos was on the take.

      If they could build a case against him, Nic’s department would be doing its job and a public service. New Orleans would have one less burned-out, corrupt or plain bad public servant who couldn’t easily be removed from the bench.

      The NOPD could arrest criminals, but when judges like Hugo Dubos consistently set obscenely low bails, СКАЧАТЬ