Page 27 of Lorenzo

That gets my attention.

Julian and I have history.

I wonder how much he shared with this stranger.

Not much, I assume. But referring Lorenzo Conti to me, he wouldn't have done that lightly.

He must be in serious trouble.

I study Lorenzo more carefully.

Lorenzo’s gaze drops briefly to the empty chair across from me.

“May I?”

I gesture toward it.

He sits.

Mocha stays between us.

Lorenzo looks at him, then back at me. “Does he always do that?”

“Only when he doesn’t trust someone.”

“Him or you?”

Not just handsome. Smart too.

I ignore his question. “What kind of help?”

There's no change in his expression. Not one iota.

“My son has been accused of murder.”

Chapter Three

Lorenzo

Donna Costa does not react the way most people would when I say it.

There is no startled breath. No immediate sympathy. No shift in her posture that tells me she has already decided whether my son is guilty.

She simply studies me.

Her eyes are blue, sharp without being cold, and far more experienced than the rest of her suggests. She is young. Julian told me that much, but knowing it and seeing it are different things. Twenty-five should look too young to sit behind a desk and decide whether to involve herself in a murder investigation.

Donna does not.

She wears jeans and a plain shirt, her blonde hair pulled back without much effort. There is nothing polished about the office or the woman in it, but I do not mistake casual for careless. She noticed me checking the room. She noticed where my hand went when I reached for my card. She has been assessing me since I stepped through the doorway.

The German shepherd standing between us has been doing the same.

Mocha does not growl or bare his teeth. He does not need to. His body is still, his attention fixed on me beneath the dark blue working vest. Donna keeps one hand near the side of his neck, though I am beginning to suspect the gesture is for my benefit rather than his.

“Arrested?” she asks.

“Last night.”