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Lord, I need Your help.
He had to let go of her, since it was so clear their lives didn’t need to be intertwined. What had happened was in the past. No sense trying to resurrect what was dead, even if he was still attracted to her.
The truth was, Clare had built a life he respected. She was hardworking and a force for good in the world. If he wasn’t a cop, he’d probably do exactly what she was doing. Or he’d be in her office first thing, asking for a job.
Wouldn’t that be an awkward conversation.
When his phone buzzed with a notification, he realized he was smiling to himself like an idiot. He read the text from Liam.
Clare spoke with Katrina. Vanguard has info we don’t.
Gage frowned and typed back,
It’s not a competition.
They could ask Vanguard to share what they knew now, or wait until tomorrow morning and have an early-morning briefing. He asked Liam to send an email about a meeting at eight a.m.
“Mr. Deluca?”
He lowered the phone and stowed it. “Yep.”
“Mr. McCauley is awake and would love a visitor.” She turned for the hall, and he followed. “He took a nap earlier, so he’s unable to sleep. Most of our residents turn in early, but some stay up later.”
They passed a living room, expansive with a big TV on the wall playing a black-and-white show. Several older people were watching. Chatting. One guy was asleep with his feet up.
“This doesn’t seem like a bad spot to end up in,” Gage said.
She smiled. “You should see it in the summer. Those long evenings with plenty of sunlight until late. The patio is a social club, and we end up with a crowd asking for virgin daiquiris until eleven.”
He chuckled. Then noticed he was at the door to a small apartment.
“I’ll leave you to it.” She wandered off, leaving him to face the open door.
He stared at it for a long moment, then pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside. An older African American man sat in an armchair beside a loveseat. The room had been decorated with a nod toward mountains and San Francisco’s football team.
Gage smiled. “Shame about that last game.”
The old man chuckled, and his whole torso moved with it. “That what you came here to talk about?” He eyed Gage. “You are…?”
He didn’t come all the way in the room, but stood by the doorway when he said, “Renee Deluca’s boy.”
Alistair lifted a hand and waved him in. “Sit down, Son.”
Gage’s chest constricted like he’d put on Jasper’s vest by mistake. He skirted the edge of the loveseat and sank into it. Alistair had a wide nose and darker brown eyes than Gage, who’d gotten a lot of his features from his mother. Dennis looked like his dad. “I’m Gage Deluca.”
“Nice to meet you, Gage.” Alistair might be in his eighties, but he seemed alert, even if his body didn’t do what it might’ve once. “Renee’s son?”
He nodded.
Alistair nodded and looked at his hands, clenched in his lap.
“I’m sorry to drop this on you, but I just found out.”
Alistair must’ve been in his fifties, or late forties, at least when they’d gotten together. Gage’s mom had died at fifty-seven. So Alistair had an affair with a woman thirty years younger than him. Not unheard of, but also not what Gage had been expecting.
“I never knew,” Gage added.
But had Alistair known?
