The man inclined his head toward the back of the cathedral, where the family had gathered. “You must mean Cacia. Yes. I had heard that she and her brother Declan declined corporate positions. Interesting choice.”
They shuffled silently up the wide aisle, waiting their turn to give their condolences. Eli was glad the well-dressed man was quiet now; he wanted to watch Cacy without distraction. She was beginning to look tired, like the day was taking a toll on her.
Eli’s fists clenched as he noticed Len several feet ahead of him, dressed in a suit that fit him like a sausage casing. He was flanked by two other paramedics, Gil Young and Manny Vieira. Despite being truly green, they both acted like hot shit back at the station and were constantly sucking up to Len . . . and constantly looking at Cacy like she was a piece of meat. The group of them reached Dec, giving him manly slaps on the shoulders and nodding at everything he said. Then they reached Cacy. She held out her hand for Len to shake, but he leaned forward and pulled her into a hug.
“Motherfucker,” Eli whispered before he could stop himself.
The glove-wearing man in front of him bowed his head, and his shoulders started to shake with silent laughter. He glanced back at Eli. “Your paramedic station must be a fascinating little microcosm.”
Eli gave the man a tight smile but didn’t take his eyes off Cacy, who was patting Len on the back and looking stone-faced at the ceiling as he hugged her. “Sorry. I just—”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I believe I feel the same way. It doesn’t look like she finds him very . . . comforting.”
The gloved man stepped forward to greet some people Eli didn’t recognize. Since they were in the receiving line, he assumed they were other members of the Ferry clan, which, by the looks of it, was very large. And every single one of them wore a pendant, exactly like Cacy’s.
Eli followed the gloved man through the line, noticing how the family members paled as the man shook their hands. By the time it was Eli’s turn, many of them actually smiled at him. Probably because the gloved man had passed them.
The gloved man reached Aislin Ferry, who stared at him coldly but took his hand without fear or hesitation. “I heard you were in town,” she said smoothly. “So kind of you to come pay your respects.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” the man said softly. “Your father was a great man. A good leader.” He glanced in Rylan Ferry’s direction.
“He was taken too soon,” Aislin said, her voice taking on an edge.
The man’s eyes swung back to her. “Indeed. So tragic. I’m sorry, my dear, for your loss.” He released her hand and moved on to Declan Ferry, who shook his hand without flinching but didn’t say a word.
Eli shook Aislin Ferry’s hand and muttered his condolences. Her eyes swept down his body, noting his shirt and jeans. “You must work with Declan and Cacia,” she said, not unkindly.
“I do,” Eli said. “I started less than a week ago, but they’ve been kind to me.” He didn’t mention that he’d met Patrick Ferry, too, under the worst possible circumstances.
She gave him a sad smile, like she already knew. “Thank you for coming.”
Dec held his hand out when Eli stepped up to him, and suddenly the reality of being here hit Eli hard. He was the one who’d failed to keep Patrick Ferry alive. And now he was face-to-face with the man’s son. “Chief. I—”
Dec reached out and took Eli by the shoulder. “You did everything you could have for him, Eli. We’re all grateful. It was nice of you to come.” His hand dropped away. “Listen, we’re having a less formal get-together at Bart’s tonight. Do you know it? Off Summer Street in the South Boston canal zone? You should come. You could get to know some of your colleagues a little better.”
Eli nodded, somewhat distracted by the sight of Cacy engaging in a sharply whispered conversation with the gloved man. “I-I will. Thank you, sir.”
Eli stepped to the side to allow the next mourner to shake Dec’s hand and ended up standing right behind the gloved man, who was leaning over Cacy in a way that made Eli want to tell him to step off. He could see Cacy’s eyes over the man’s shoulder. Instead of looking fearful, like some of the other mourners, Cacy looked mad enough to punch the guy. She spotted Eli and closed her eyes for a second, like she was composing herself. When she opened them, she said, “Thank you for coming, Moros. It’s an honor to Father’s memory.”
The gloved man bowed his head and moved on to Rylan Ferry. Eli stepped toward Cacy, knowing he was supposed to say some condolences now. But it was like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. Everything he’d been saying to all the others suddenly seemed shallow and stupid, and he didn’t want to say anything like that to her. All he could do was hold out his hand and hope she understood how sorry he was. Her hand, slender but strong, slid into his, sending an honest-to-God electric current shooting up his arm. “You’re here,” she said, giving his fingers the slightest tug, enough to make him step forward.
Before he realized what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Right in front of her brothers. In front of her whole family. Stunned, his heart pounding like a jackhammer, he tried not to think of the delicious press of her breasts against his chest, hoping she wasn’t aware of what her touch was doing to his body. At a funeral, of all places. His hands landed awkwardly on her back as he started to catalog ambulance supplies in his head to keep from embarrassing himself in front of the wealthiest, most powerful family in the city.
Cacy’s arms tightened, like she was holding on for dear life, and Eli’s hand slipped up. His fingers grazed the bare skin at the back of her neck, and then the only thing he could think about was how he would stand there forever if she’d let him.
Something about touching her this way loosened his tongue. “I’m so sorry, Cacy. For everything.”
The heat of her breath tickled his ear. “Please don’t be. Are you coming to Bart’s tonight?”
“I . . . don’t know.” Eli’s eyes darted over to Dec, who had frozen midhandshake to stare at him and Cacy. Cold dread sluiced through Eli’s veins.
Cacy must have felt Eli tense, because she let him go, her hand skimming down his arm to take his hand again. “Come. Most of the station’s going to be there.”
“I’ll try,” Eli said hoarsely, pulling his hand from hers. Dec’s icy, predatory stare was focused on Eli alone now. The Chief nodded to his left, and Eli realized they were holding up the line. And that everyone was watching him. Eli blinked and looked down at Cacy, whose gaze was riveted on him, so intense it burned. “I’ll try,” he repeated. Then he turned away before he drowned in Cacy’s eyes.
He started to leave, but a hand closed around his arm. Rylan Ferry. Eli had nearly brushed past the new patriarch of the family without saying a word. Not the smoothest of moves. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Rylan just shook his hand, staring into Eli’s eyes with a look as intense as Cacy’s. But while hers held warmth, heat even, his was like Dec’s, ice-cold. “Nice to see you again,” Rylan said. “Thank you for coming.”
Like it had been when they met at the hospital, the man’s handshake was iron, but he wasn’t putting any kind of bullshit macho squeeze action on Eli. It was simply firm. Confident. Eli thanked him, pivoted on his heel, and wove his way through the crowd, wondering what the hell had just happened.
By the time he plowed through the door of his apartment, Eli had convinced himself that going to Bart’s was a bad idea. Dec and Rylan Ferry had given him the definite we’ll-kick-your-ass-if-you-touch-her vibe. Given their power and connections, it could easily have been more of a touch-her-and-they’ll-find-your-body-in-the-canal vibe instead.
The problem was that if Eli went tonight, he would touch her. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself. He’d never felt anything so perfect as when she’d been in his arms. The world had dropped away. The ultimate distract
ion. The ultimate temptation.
Why had she looked at him like that after ignoring him for days? Had it just been some sort of grief reaction? Would she go back to being distant? Part of Eli hoped she would. It would make it a lot easier for him to keep his job.
He sighed as he kicked off his boots. “G? You here?”
A startled squeal came from Galena’s bedroom, and the door flew open. “Eli! I didn’t know when you’d be home.” Her eyes widened. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I don’t know if I should have gone to that funeral.”
Galena bit her lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back from the lab in time to go with you. I’m getting really close to a breakthrough, though. I can feel it. I got caught up with Danny and—”
“It’s all right.” Eli smiled at her. He really hadn’t minded. He knew how Galena got when she was on to something.
She shook her head. “Not really, because I have to ask you a big favor.”
“Oh, you think I’m keeping score or something?” He walked into the kitchen, searching for something to eat.
“No,” she said, turning to watch him paw through the cabinets. “Never. But . . . wait here.” She went back to her room.
Eli found a nutrition bar in the last cabinet he opened and was taking his first bite when Galena emerged again, carrying a garment bag. “So,” she said, “I got invited to give a speech at this big university fund-raiser.”
Eli nodded as he chewed. The university should want to show off its most promising new faculty member. Lots of places had wanted her. Her research was so hot that offers had started coming in before she’d even finished her doctorate. But Harvard was the best funded and had offered her a state-of-the-art lab. It had been an easy choice.
“And,” she continued, glancing up at him nervously, “I want you to be my date.”
She unzipped the garment bag, revealing a tuxedo. He inhaled a few crumbs of the nutrition bar and began to cough.
Galena’s brow furrowed. She looked down at the tuxedo and back up at him. “Please?”
Eli waved his arms, trying to let her know he wasn’t turning her down. He’d just been struck by how badly he wished he’d known about that garment bag before he’d left for the funeral. “No problem,” he said hoarsely, reaching for a bottle of water. He opened it and took a sip. “I’ll go.”
Galena’s face lit up. Her blonde ponytail swirled around her head as she jumped up and down, clutching the garment bag to her chest. “Oh, thank you! I don’t think I could do this alone. The administrator who called me said there would be several hundred people there, and you know I get nervous in crowds.”
Eli stepped forward and hugged his sister. “I’m so proud of you. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“You should see the dress I got! They gave me such a generous allowance. They even sent the tux over for you! I didn’t even have to ask! They knew it was a rush thing—it’s tomorrow night.”
“I guess Harvard really has it together,” Eli said, taking the garment bag from her hands. “Are you in for the night? Want to play darts or something?”
Galena frowned. “Shouldn’t you have plans, little brother? Your first night off in a new city?” Her eyes narrowed when she saw his expression. “You can’t hide anything from me, Eli. Spit it out.”
“I got invited to a thing. But I’m not going to go.” He stalked back to his room to hang the bag in his closet.
Galena followed him. “Why not?”
“Because Cacy will be there.”
“So? Didn’t you just say you were invited?”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “Sure, it was the Chief who invited me. But that was before . . . God, I don’t even know what happened really. Cacy hugged me, I guess. But it felt . . .” Eli sighed, unable to describe what Cacy’s embrace had done to him. “It happened in front of her entire family. There I was, this poor hick in jeans, and she . . .” He shook his head.
Galena leaned against the wall and folded her arms over her chest. “Oh, you’re going.”
“That would be a very bad idea. You should have seen the way they looked at me.”
“Eli Benjamin Margolis, when have you ever let anyone intimidate you?”
She sounded so much like their mother that Eli laughed, even though it made his chest hurt a little. “Never. It’s just—”
“You want to see her again.” Galena stepped forward and laid her palm against his chest.
He wanted to say no, but Galena smiled, no doubt feeling his heart pounding at the thought of seeing Cacy tonight.
“You want to see her again,” Galena repeated, looking utterly satisfied with herself. “If you don’t go, I’m going to call her and tell her secrets about you. Like your incomprehensible fear of needles.”
“If you feel that strongly about it, maybe you should come with me.” He put his hand over hers, holding it to his chest as he watched her face fall. “Come on, G. You need to interact with some actual humans, not just computers and single-celled organisms.” Galena hadn’t been able to stomach going out since the attack, and Eli hadn’t pushed her. But she was going to have to face it at some point. It couldn’t be good for her to be alone all the time.
Galena’s gaze was glued to his chest, on his broad hand covering hers. “I’m so busy, Eli,” she said quietly. “Maybe another time.” Then she arched an eyebrow mischievously. “But you better get going. You can’t let her down.”
His hand fell away, and so did hers. “Let her down? What makes you think she’d notice?”
She smiled sweetly. “Trust me, Eli. I saw the way Cacy looked at you when you were passed out on the couch.”
His heart kicked into a hard rhythm again, and he was glad Galena couldn’t feel it pounding as he asked, “How did she look at me?”
Galena shook her head. “You can go see for yourself. I can’t wait to hear how it goes. I’m headed back to the lab. But when I call you in an hour, you’d better answer, and there had better be someone there who can vouch for your whereabouts. Get cracking, bro, you’ve got some friends to make. Have fun,” she sang as she walked through the living room and headed out the door.
Eli stood in the hallway, furious but strangely grateful to his pain-in-the-ass sister. She’d given him the excuse he needed to go get himself in serious trouble.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cacy sat back from her tablet phone and sighed. She’d spent the afternoon since the funeral mass dealing with dozens of cousins who’d felt they were slighted in her father’s will. Then she’d spent an hour wading through her father’s files using the passwords Mr. Knickles had given her. Rylan had offered to do it with her, but as grateful as she’d been, she’d known he had other things he had to do. Plus, Cacy had wanted to be alone with all of it for a little while. She wanted to know why her father had chosen her. His words from the night of his death echoed in her mind. Protecting the future is more important than righting the wrongs of the past. Words he’d said to her while standing outside Eli’s apartment in Cambridge, of all places. What had he been trying to tell her?
She’d searched his incredibly long list of property holdings for an address in Cambridge, thinking maybe he’d bought another condo complex or business. Nothing. She pulled up the copy of the data she’d snagged from her father’s phone and scrolled through his calls. Both Rylan and Dec had called him in the half hour before the attack, and the calls were only minutes apart. She took a look at his private calendar next, searching for discrepancies between it and the public calendar maintained by his secretary. On the day before he died, the press conference and family lunch were clearly marked. He’d also had dinner with Rylan at Lombo’s. Those were the only things listed, so Cacy clicked to the next day, since he’d been killed around one in the morning. There, slated for 12:01 a.m., was a notation: M. Final Decision.
Cacy stared at the
words until her vision blurred, her heart bumping frantically against her ribs. Had that meeting been in Cambridge? And who was M? Had that person been responsible for her father’s death? Her eyes narrowed as she closed the calendar. She already had an appointment with her number one suspect.
She checked the time and her heart skipped a beat. Time to go. The paramedics had wanted to have their own informal send-off of Patrick Ferry, so she and Dec had to show. Not that she would have missed it. She loved most of her colleagues and appreciated their loyalty to her father, no matter how much shit they’d given her the first few years she’d been a paramedic. She was so determined to be there on time that she’d asked Moros to meet her at the bar so she could ask him some questions before he left town again. Normally, the youngest daughter of the Charon would have been beneath the notice of the Lord of the Kere, but getting named the executor of her father’s estate had made all the difference. Not that her father would approve of how she was going to use her new authority.
The sun was still smoldering, hovering at the rim of the skyscrapers, when Cacy made it to Bart’s. The humid air was filled with the briny swamp scent of the canals—part rot, part chemical burn. She wrinkled her nose as she walked beside the canal wall, watching the sampans and motorboats and amphibious vehicles weaving and bumping in Friday afternoon rush-hour traffic.
Cacy swung open the door to the bar and took a deep breath as the smell of beer and whiskey rushed over her. She smiled and nodded to the hostess as she headed for the back room where her father had often met with local patrons. He’d bought the bar expressly for this purpose.
A few guys were already gathered at the long mahogany bar, including Len, who had changed from that awful too-tight suit he’d been wearing earlier, thank God. Her skin had crawled as he’d embraced her in the receiving line. It wouldn’t have been considered dignified to knee a mourner in the balls, though, so she’d let him hug her and counted the seconds until it was over.