Then There Were Three. Jeanie London. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jeanie London
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472028129
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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, witnesses and victims who’d agreed to cooperate changed their minds. They knew the criminals would end up back on the streets, wanting retribution from the people who’d turned them in. When no one was willing to talk, the district attorney’s office would wind up dropping the charges. It was precisely this sort of thing that had undermined the department with the public for too long.

      Megan might be getting worked up about the ring on Violet’s nose, but that was only because she hadn’t heard about the real trouble yet. Their daughter had been picked up by the NOPD and potentially witnessed a crime.

      That should go over well. Megan would think she’d reproduced with an idiot. Nic wasn’t sure why he cared. He couldn’t have known he had a daughter when walking out the door last night since he wasn’t a mind reader, but he damn sure should have known he had a tail.

      No, until he got a lid on what was going down, Violet—and Megan by default—needed to stay someplace safe. Nic knew who he could trust in the department and who not to turn his back on. The officers he’d assigned to this beat knew his mother’s house and kept their eyes on it. Family was important to the good guys on the payroll.

      He doubted Violet had gotten around to filling Megan in on the details of her ride to the station in a cruiser, so he would probably get to break the news. Irony at its finest. He and Megan hadn’t had a thing to do with each other for fifteen years and now all they needed to do was talk.

      “Yo, Daddy, you ever joining the party?” Damon’s annoying voice broke into Nic’s thoughts. “Save us from giving your life history to my beautiful niece.”

      “Looks like congratulations are in order, big bro,” Vince said. At least Nic had one brother who wasn’t such an asshole.

      “What’s with this family? Doesn’t anyone work?” Nic hissed under his breath as he glared at his mother. “You pick today for a freaking family reunion. Thank you.”

      “I wanted Violet to feel welcomed, and I thought you could use backup.” His mother headed into the kitchen to run interference, probably scared she would be down more than one son with Nic in his current mood.

      “Knock it off, you two,” she admonished. “Nic and Megan haven’t eaten yet. Let me grab some plates.”

      Tess started to rise, but his mother motioned her to stay seated. “Thanks but no thanks, honey. You’ve got your hands full. Come on, Violet. It’s time for a tour.”

      “You’re Italian.” Anthony winked. “Kitchens are going to be a big part of your life from now on.”

      Violet hopped up, so clearly eager.

      “Tell me you’ve been raising my niece right.” Damon wrapped an arm around Megan’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “She does know what a cannoli is, right? Aglio Et Olio?”

      Megan smiled cordially. “We traveled through Abruzzo on our way to Rome while we were living in Croatia. Does that count?”

      “Yeah, and it was so great we went back to hike in Majella on holiday.” Violet stood on tiptoe to grab the good plates that were in a cabinet above his mother’s reach.

      “Abruzzo?” Damon asked in mock horror.

      “We’re