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Macon looked at his phone, scowled, and pocketed it again.
“They broke up,” Seth said. “Ivy and Troy.”
Macon turned to his brother. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Ivy told me.”
Macon wasn’t convinced. “When?”
“Couple of months ago, I think. Maybe around Thanksgiving.” Seth paused. Thought. “Yeah, I remember now. She told me about it over Christmas break.”
Macon shrugged. “Whatever. Good thing. Boxer’s a loser. Anyway, I’m outta here. C’mon, Seth.”
“Wait.” Regan wasn’t going to let him just walk away. “You really need to talk to Detective Tanaka. I’ll go with you.”
“No.” The look he sent her was a mixture of disgust and deep-seated suspicion. “I’m not goin’ to talk to any cop and that includes you.” He added, “Not without a lawyer.”
“Seriously?” Collette asked.
“Yeah, seriously,” he mocked, grabbing a cracker and cheese. “Damned fuckin’ straight.”
He seemed unable to be moved, so Pescoli backed off for the moment. She felt her phone vibrate and pulled it from her pocket to see on the screen that Santana was calling. Her heart lightened a little bit and she slid outside, onto the covered deck off the family room, before answering. Rain was pouring down, pounding on the roof and gurgling through the gutters.
“Hey.”
“ ‘Hey,’ back,” Santana said, and she had to plug her free ear to hear him over the storm. “Wondered how you were doing.”
“Could be better. Could be worse. I guess we’re going to bunk here with Sarina for a couple of nights. She’s pretty upset. Collette’s handling Brindel’s death a little better.”
“And Tuck? How does he like his first road trip?”
“He’s okay. Sleeping through a lot of it. Bianca’s been on duty most of the time.”
“She okay with that?”
“Mmm. Think so.” Still straining to hear over the gurgle of rain in the downspouts, she gazed through the slider door to the group gathered inside, clustered around the peninsula in the glow of the hanging light fixture, deep in discussion. “But that’s one of the reasons I came to Sarina’s—to give Bianca a break. Sarina’s all about the baby.” She decided not to let on about her sister’s impending divorce. For now. “How’re things there?”
“A little quiet for my taste.”
“Is that a backhanded way of saying you miss us?”
He let out a laugh. “I guess. You didn’t leave on the best of terms.”
“And that would be because . . . ?”
“It couldn’t be that you’re mule-headed.”
“No, sir. Don’t think so.”
“But maybe I was a little out of line.” That was a big admission from Santana.
Pescoli’s eyebrows arched. “A little?”
Another snort and, over a gust of wind, she heard the dogs, suddenly on alert, start barking. Nikita’s deep woof, Sturgis’s raspy howl, and Cisco’s sharp yips. A chorus. Her heart twisted. Santana said, “I just want what’s best for all of us. The kids, me, and you’re included in that.”
“Nice to know.”
“It’s your life, Pescoli. Do what you want. As I’ve said before. You will anyway.”
