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Dani fell silent and André’s stomach growled loudly enough to be heard over the windshield wipers. The car slowed as Dante glanced over at him.
“Eyes on the road,” André muttered. “I’m hungry, big f-ing deal.”
“Zio likes to feed people,” Dani said. “Mom used to say he was going to make a great husband someday.”
“And I used to tell your mom that she was making a big assumption there.”
“Huh.”
André could almost hear Dani thinking.
“Mr. Barone and Mr. Stone are dating. Romy thinks they might get married someday but that Mr. Stone is afraid of commitment, so her dad is going to have to work hard to convince him.”
Luckily, André’s stomach rumbled again and then Dante was parking in front of André’s house and all discussion of relationships and marriage was forgotten for the time being.
They all got out of the car, Luna racing to the front door to wait for the slow humans. Even after the past forty-eight hours, even hungry and exhausted, André felt himself smile. He’d never allowed himself to dream of a partner, a dog, and or a picket fence. Or a teenager. But he liked Daniella, she was a sharp kid.
He allowed his imagination to spool out a few years, envisioning sitting on a porch somewhere with Dante—not this house, it didn’t have a big enough porch—and waiting for Dani to arrive for a visit from college. There was a dog somewhere in there too.
“Are you coming?” Dante asked.
EPILOGUE
André twitched his suit jacket down and ran his hand across the front of it, unable to hide his grin as he pushed open the lobby doors and stepped into the late-morning sunshine. Summer was in full force and the steel and glass United States Courthouse in Portland, Oregon, sparkled—almost as if it too was proud that the verdict had been life with no parole considerations for many, many years.
The likelihood that Aldo Campos would die from natural causes before the parole board ever saw him was nearly certain. That Jensen hadn’t survived emergency surgery was another sort of justice, André supposed. He was dead and couldn’t do any more damage.
He glanced around but didn’t immediately see Dante.
“André, over here.”
Peering into the sunshine, André spotted his favorite person. Dante Castone was occupying a table outside the coffee shop on the other side of the street. Taking a deep breath, then rolling his shoulders and checking for traffic, he made his way across the busy roadway. It was possible he sauntered.
“Well?” Dante asked, smiling up at him when he arrived.
André’s grin widened further. “It’s official. Aldo Campos is going away for a very long time. But you knew that.”
“Yes, well, maybe I wanted to hear it from you. Makes it seem more real.”
Behind André, a driver laid on their horn. A different driver yelled something obscene out their window. Really? At ten thirty in the morning? What was wrong with people?
“Are we staying or getting the hell out of here?” André was ready to leave.
After almost two years away, Portland was not André’s city any longer. During the week he’d hung around waiting to be called to testify, he’d missed the ocean with its varying moods and the clouds that were either overhead or lurking just around the corner.
He’d missed the police station, even with all its quirks—including Nick Waugh. Carol had been right about him. Nick was proving to be an excellent front desk manager and dispatch officer. The two new deputies they’d hired seemed to be learning quickly, and the recovered Deputy Lani Cooper had done an excellent job filling in for André while he’d been away in Portland.
Things were good in his universe.
“Let’s shake the dust of this city off our feet.” Dante picked up a to-go cup from the table and handed it to him. “Hopefully, it’s still warm.”
Before strapping himself into the passenger seat for the ride home, André stripped off his suit jacket and tossed it in the back of Dante’s car. His roller bag was already stashed there, along with what looked like a duffle bag.
“Thanks for picking my bag up. Did you bring laundry?” he teased.
“Maybe,” Dante replied. “Get in already. I want to try and avoid the traffic.”
Hours later, Dante finally pulled to a stop in front of what looked like a one-room cabin.
