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“What did you bring for the raffle?” he asked Gary. “I know Sean asked you to bring something.” When Gary flushed, Dan gazed at him with interest. “Now youhaveto tell me.”
Gary coughed. “Floppy disks.”
Dan laughed. “Seriously?”
“Well, Sean’s email said bring something from their college years, so I took a look around Brad’s room last time we had lunch there. I found a box in his drawer.” He took a drink from his glass. “I was never much of a fan of champagne, but this tastes great.”
Dan chuckled. “That’s because it’s the good stuff. I took a look at the bottle when the servers were refilling the glasses.”
“It should be the good stuff, knowing how much the tickets cost.”
Dan took another sip. “It’s for charity.” He sighed. “It was sweet of Pete Raskin to come see us today.” Pete had visited the precinct to thank them, and to tell them he’d had a letter from Bruno DiFanetti. He and Senator Cain wanted to create a gallery dedicated to Cheryl, to showcase the work of new artists.
Dan saw the gesture for what it was—both men trying to make amends.
“I guess Bruno will be happy once Gianni gets to trial. He must want his life back,” Gary commented.
“Only if he can live without forever looking over his shoulder.”
For that to happen, Gianni needed to go away for a long time.
Music poured from the speakers, and many of the guests took to the dance floor, the beat pulsing through the floorboards, the lights winking on and off, reflecting in the mirrors around the room.
“Want to dance?”
Dan smiled. “I’m not really much of a dancer.” He let his gaze drift slowly around the ballroom. They’d met a lot of people that evening, so many that Dan had difficulty recalling individual names and faces. Brad’s former classmates came from all walks of life, some successful, others less so, but all happy to meet Brad’s little brother, even if he wasn’t so little anymore. Everyone appeared friendly, and the one thing Dan could say for certain was that they held Brad in high regard.
Gary shifted his chair closer. “Well?”
Dan knew what he was asking.
“Well, apart from getting to know Sean a whole lot better and meeting some really nice people, I think this is a bust.”
“You didn’t pick up on anything?”
Dan shook his head. “Maybe Sean’s right. Maybe Brad’s murdererwasn’tone of his classmates.” He hadn’t met anyone who’d set off his radar. All he’d felt was warmth, affection, and pleasure to be amongst friends once more.
“We knew it was a long shot,” Gary murmured.
Dan squeezed his arm. “Maybe, but I wanted to give you something to work with.”
The music died, and Sean’s voice filled the air. “If I can interrupt your dancing and chatting for a moment? Please take your seats.”
It wasn’t long before the dance floor was empty, and Sean stood in front of the raffle table, a wireless mic in one hand.
He grinned. “And now the moment you know you’ve all been waiting for. It’s raffle time, so have your tickets handy.” He narrowed his gaze. “And if you haven’t bought any yet, shame on you. This is for charity.” That grin was back. “So I’ll wait while you let the moths out of your wallets and buy a strip of tickets.”
Laughter echoed around the ballroom.
Dan removed his tickets from his pocket and placed them on the table. “If I win those floppy disks,you’regoing home in a taxi, andI’msleeping in that beautiful room upstairs.”
Gary chuckled. “After the way you looked at that big tub in the bathroom? I think that would be cutting your nose off to spite your face.”
“Never mind the tub—that bed looked wonderful.”
There was something about hotel rooms that always made Dan horny.
Sean tapped his wineglass, and silence fell. “Thank you to everyone who contributed a prize. We asked you to bring something that reminded you of our fun-filled years in college, and boy, you delivered.” He peered at the sheet in his hand. “Although I have to ask…. Whoever brought the box of floppy disks?”
