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“In his office,” Gloria said from behind me. “I’ll get it.”
I watched her walk away and asked Tony, “Did you know she was still here?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
Gloria came back a minute later with a heavy leather jacket that I supposed belonged to Liam. I held out my hand. “I’ll take it to him.” My brother snorted a laugh, and I flipped him off.
Liam was staring off into the distance when I walked up to him and draped his jacket over his shoulders. He started when I touched him. “Sorry for startling you,” I said. “You looked cold.”
Liam smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks.” He shivered and pulled the jacket closer around his body.
“Christ,” I muttered. I pulled the jacket off his shoulders and said, “Lose the lab coat.” Liam looked bemused but obeyed. I took the lab coat from him, slung it over my shoulder, and held up his jacket. “Put it on so you don’t freeze to death.”
His lips twitched into a smile. “It’s technically not cold enough for that to happen.”
I raised an eyebrow and continued to hold the jacket up. He shook his head, chuckling as he slipped his arms into the soft leather garment. I should have let it go at that, but of course, I didn’t. I turned him around and zipped it to cover up the thin, pale-blue dress shirt he wore. “Now, why are you standing out here in the cold?”
There was pain in Liam’s expression when he answered. “It’s right here. Right in my own backyard. Somewhere in this city is a house full of boys being raped on a daily basis.” His eyes filled with tears. “I feel so helpless. What will happen to them? What will happen to the boy who helped Jean-Pierre escape?” His voice fell to a whisper as his tears traced twin paths down his cheeks. “What if they kill him?”
God, this man. He cared so much. I pulled a tissue out of the inner pocket of my jacket and carefully wiped his tears. I put my hands on his shoulders and said, “Tony and I managed to get enough information from listening to the police talk to put Michael on this. We have the address. My team will do the rest.”
“What about the police?” Liam asked.
I thought about what I could and couldn’t tell him. I didn’t usually talk about why we operated the way we did, but if Tony wanted Liam on the team, then he should know. “Michael thinks Gerard has at least one person in the police department who’s been diverting calls about the house for months. The calls have come in from concerned citizens, but no action has been taken. If we don’t move quickly, the boys will be gone, and we won’t know how to find them.”
“Oh.” He sighed softly. “I guess Gerard wasn’t exaggerating.”
I shrugged. “He probably was. But he definitely has some friends on the force.”
Liam shook his head when more tears fell. He wiped his face again. “I guess I’m not a good candidate for your team if I can’t hold myself together.”
I put a finger under his chin. “Look at me,” I said. When he raised his eyes to meet mine, our gazes held for a second. Warmth spread down my chest, and I had to fight not to reach out and pull him to me. I cleared my throat and went on. “You’re perfect for our team because you care so much. We all do this because we see injustice and want to step in where our justice system falls short or fails entirely.”
Liam clenched his jaw and his gaze sharpened. “I want to help. What do I do to get on your team?”
Inwardly, I groaned. This was going to be all kinds of trouble for me. Outwardly, I put my arm around his shoulders and said, “Let’s go talk to Tony.”
11
Liam
After my boss showed up and shooed us out of the clinic, Tony and Marco took me to their favorite Italian restaurant in Asbury Park. Oh, and I got to ride in Marco’s late-model, all-black Dodge Charger. Ugh, I wanted one so bad.
It was early for dinner, not even five o’clock, so there weren’t many people in the restaurant. Before we got to our table, a portly man with a balding head ringed with snow-white hair came hurrying out from the kitchen to greet us. He embraced Tony and Marco like long-lost brothers, speaking to them in rapid Italian. And that was when I discovered that the D’Angelo brothers spoke Italian.
After a few minutes, Tony introduced me to the man. “Sal, this is Liam O’Neil. He and his brother own Moonlight Inn. Liam, this is Sal Valeri.”
I held out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Valeri.”
“Such a nice boy,” he said as he vigorously shook my hand. “I saw your brother’s interview over the summer. He did a good job.” He steered us all to a table in the corner of the restaurant. “Come, sit. Eat.”
After more Italian to Marco and Tony, Sal hurried back to the kitchen. Tony shook his head. “He’s a friend of my father’s. They came to the US together when they were teenagers. Our families have always gotten together at holidays, birthdays, anniversaries. You name it, and we celebrate it together.”
“That’s really nice,” I said. “Although I had no idea you two could speak Italian.”
Marco shrugged. “Pop wanted us all to be able to speak it, so he made sure we all spoke Italian at home.”
I smiled wistfully. “I kind of wish my parents had done that with Irish. I would love to be able to speak it.”
