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They reached Travers’s office. Travers closed the door, and before Gary could speak, he got in first.
“I think I know what this is about. You want to find your brother’s killer.”
Gary stared at him. “You know about him?”
Travers’s expression was solemn. “Of course. I knew the day you walked into this precinct.”
Gary hastened to explain. “I’m not asking for his case to be investigated—he died in Springfield, Mass, not Boston—but I want permission to follow leads if any turn up.” He gestured to Dan. “If Dan helps with the case, that’s entirely possible.”
Travers rubbed his jaw. “Yes, I can agree to that.” He smiled. “You two work well together.”
Gary glanced at Dan. “I think we make a great team.”
Dan beamed. “I agree.”
Travers cocked his head. “Are you still living at Gary’s place?” Both Gary and Dan blinked, and Travers’s eyes twinkled. “Paperwork, gentlemen. Little things like mailing addresses.”
“Yes, he is,” Gary confirmed, his stomach clenching.
Travers nodded. “I don’t suppose he has any plans to move out. Just don’t let it interfere with your job.”
Gary stilled. “Sir?”
“You think I don’t know what goes on in this precinct? Who is seeing who?” He chuckled. “A mouse farts in the store cupboard and I get to know about it.”
Gary couldn’t get his mouth to work.
Travers met his gaze with arched eyebrows. “You expected intolerance?” Before Gary could respond, he took his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and removed a photo. He handed it to Gary, who studied it.
Two women smiled at the camera, their arms around each other’s waists.
Travers pointed to the figure on the left. “That’s my daughter, Teresa, and her wife, Mandy.” He replaced the photo in his wallet, then gave Gary a frank stare. “Just be careful. I know Lewis was not the most tolerant officer, but there are others like him around here. Whether they’ll show their hand remains to be seen.” He set his jaw. “But if they do, I’ll have something to say about it.” Travers glanced at his watch. “But now you need to go home. You’re done for the day.”
“We’re not going home,” Dan interjected. “Gary is taking me to dinner at our favorite restaurant.”
Gary had to laugh. “Oh I am, am I?” He felt light.
“Yes, you are.”
Travers laughed too. “Enjoy. I’ll see you both first thing tomorrow—when we’ll discuss your next case.”
They left his office, Gary’s head in a whirl.
What filled him was a welcome emotion. Hope.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Saturday, September 22, 2018
DAN SIPPEDhis champagne. “This is better than the last time I was here.”
“Why?” Gary looked edible in a tux. Dan couldn’t keep his eyes off him.
He rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? I stayed here and ended up on the front page of every newspaper in Boston.”
Gary chuckled. “You mean like earlier this month?” When the news broke about Senator Cain and Gianni DiFanetti, for one whole week a day didn’t go by without some journalist or other calling them, asking for an interview.
Dan gazed at the Fairmont Copley Plaza’s Grand Ballroom, with its mirrored doors that reminded him of the palace of Versailles. Above each door were gold-covered moldings, and graceful arches led the eye to the ornate ceiling. White-cloth-covered round tables filled the space on three sides, with a dance floor in the center. Candles flickered, and the flower arrangements’ sweet fragrance filled the air. At the far end of the room was a long table, groaning with items brought for the raffle at the end of the night.
