Second Chance (Hudson Valley Murder Mysteries #2)

Chapter Sixteen

Daniel’s making tea in the kitchen.

He’s making tea in the kitchen, and Tony hears him whistling through the door, and the sound heals a fractured part of his heart worn thin with worrying the last few days.

Tony pushes the comforter off and pads to the kitchen, where he wraps his arms around Daniel’s middle and kisses Daniel’s cheek.

His skin is still sleep-warm and cozy.

“Good morning.” Daniel reaches back and pats Tony’s hip through the thin material of his boxers.

“Morning,” Tony mumbles into Daniel’s T-shirt. “No, wait. What time is it?”

“Like, three p.m. Sleep well?” The kettle clicks off and Daniel pours hot water over his tea leaves.

Tony makes some a noncommittal sound that means he won’t have to let go yet.

“You okay?” Daniel asks.

Tony nods and burrows his nose deeper into Daniel’s shirt. “I just missed you.” It comes out more honest, more heartbroken than he expected.

White-hot panic floods Tony for an instant as he remembers all the thoughts and worst-case scenarios he went through while Daniel was gone, making his grip on Daniel go tight.

“Hey.” Daniel’s hand is light on Tony’s hip, brushing against it to offer some comfort. “I’m okay. I’m here.”

“Yeah.” It’s hard to stop shaking, to loosen his hold on Daniel. Tony does it anyway. He doesn’t want to leave anything unresolved between them. “I’m still sorry I got Emilio involved. I should have talked to you about it instead of getting angry and not…saying anything.”

Daniel pulls him close again and cards his hand through Tony’s messy hair. “Who’s to say you weren’t right? Maybe I should have used Lily’s phone to call the police in the first place. Who knows if I did anyone any favors?”

“You were doing what you thought was right.”

“I was thinking about me. I thought I could fix everything by myself better than the police, and I dragged you and Gianna and everyone else into trouble.”

Tony buries his face in Daniel’s shoulder. His voice is barely audible. “I was thinking about me too. I was so scared and so angry, and I knew Emilio would…I knew he would do something.”

Daniel cups his cheek. “Angry at me?”

“No.” Tony takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Maybe a little. But only because you wouldn’t let me save you.”

“I’m sorry I put you through so much.”

“I’m sorry I got Emilio involved.”

“Don’t be. He deserves…something.”

“Still. Shouldn’t have given the detective that knife either.”

“Eh. That might save us all from getting charged for obstruction. I think it’s clear enough Lily had no idea what she was doing when she brought the knife here. She didn’t mean to threaten me. I think in a roundabout way, she was trying to confess. She wanted us to hand over the evidence. Who knows if I was actually doing her any favors.”

Tony wraps his arms tighter around Daniel, squeezing him. Then, he takes a deep breath, letting it go. He presses another kiss to the Daniel’s cheek and pulls away reluctantly. “At least now, she has medical help. She wouldn’t have if she’d gotten arrested.”

Daniel hums in assent.

“We’re okay?” Tony asks.

“We are.”

“Good.”

Worf takes the opportunity to squawk loudly at their feet.

“Don’t let him lie to you.” Tony glares down but rubs across Worf’s tailbone all the same. “He got all his regular meals and then some.”

“Filthy opportunist,” Daniel coos, letting Worf rub his cheek against Daniel’s fingers. “Cute, filthy opportunist.”

“Any news?”

Daniel shrugs. “My phone is still somewhere in the bushes by the road to Germantown, remember?”

“Shit. We’ll have to go to Best Buy or something.”

“I can order something online. It’s cheaper, anyway.”

Tony remembers the state of the office and winces. “Right. We’ll need to set up your whole desk system again.”

Daniel cocks his head, brow furrowed. “What happened there?”

“My parents and our friends and your sister showed up as soon as they knew you’d gone missing, and my ma insisted on cooking for everyone. Wasn’t enough space to sit and eat.”

Slowly, Daniel nods. “Explains why the fridge is so full.”

“You should have seen it before she cooked.”

Daniel laughs. “Is it weird that I’m glad we have so many people who care?”

“No.” Tony kisses him, soft and sweet. “Not at all.”

He finds his phone on the coffee table not too long after. “Sweetheart?” he calls. “Looks like we have many people who want to continue caring.”

“What do you mean?” Daniel emerges from the office, where he’s been setting his computer to rights.

“Ma wants to see you, make sure you’re okay. And Charlie and Blake G are both pissed no one told them what’s going on. And Lisa wants to check in.”

“Huh.” Daniel runs a hand through his hair. It’s frizzy from sleeping on it; putting his hands in it only makes it worse.

Tony wants to put his hands in Daniel’s hair.

“Colette and Meredith will want to see us sometime today, too,” Daniel points out.

“That’s so many people.”

“Mm.” Daniel considers. “How about the Indian place in Red Hook? Don’t they do a buffet?”

Anything to avoid having the apartment overrun again. Now Daniel’s back where he belongs, Tony finds himself unwilling to have their space completely taken over.

“Good idea,” he says.

“I’ll call and ask if they have space.” Daniel pats down his pockets and then remembers he still doesn’t have a phone. Tony holds his out wordlessly.

While Daniel makes the call, Tony sets about finding his goddamn hair ties. He checks under the bed and under the couch and, finally, when he can’t think of anywhere else they might be, in Worf’s little cubbyhole in the cat tree.

He finds the little bastard, curled up and purring, with his paw on top of three hair ties.

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?” Tony sighs, scratching Worf’s head behind the ears. “What is wrong with you? Why must you steal?”

He tries to pull a hair tie out, but Worf curls a claw around it and purrs harder.

“That’s mine, kitten. Get your own.”

Still, Worf refuses to give it up.

“Why are you like this?”

“You know, I have a theory about that.” Daniel comes up behind him and works the hair tie out of Worf’s claw.

“Oh?” Tony raises an eyebrow as best as he can while putting his hair up.

“Mm.” A secretive half-smile spreads across Daniel’s face. “You know when you put your hair up? It’s when you’re about to leave for the day.”

Tony looks at Worf again, the cat purring away. He’s rolled onto his back, paws curled up by his chest, expecting belly rubs. “Uh-huh. So?”

“So,” Daniel says, hooking his chin over Tony’s shoulder, “I think he doesn’t want you to go.”

Blood rushes in Tony’s ears, excitement pooling in his stomach. “Really.”

“Yeah. We have a lot in common.”

“Huh.” Tony tries to hide his smile, reaching out to rub at Worf’s soft stomach. He squawks but accepts the tummy rubs. “Is he now.”

“Mm-hm. I think he’d feel better if you…lived here.”

“Very sneaky way of showing it.” Tony fingers the two hair ties still in Worf’s lair. Worf refuses to give them up. “What do you think we should do about this…problem of Worf’s?”

Daniel sighs. “Hey. Look at me?”

Tony turns in Daniel’s arms, so they’re nose to nose. Daniel clasps his hands together behind Tony’s neck; Tony’s hands migrate to Daniel’s hips.

“I don’t want to rush you into anything. I get it if you want to stay with your family. It’s not like we never see each other. And I would also get it if you wanted to live alone before jumping right into living with someone. I just think I—and Worf—would be happier if you were here all the time. So maybe it’s something to think about?”

Tony tightens his grip on Daniel’s hips. “I don’t need to think about it.”

“No?”

Tony shakes his head. He leans forward to kiss Daniel, slow and luscious and soft.

Daniel looks a little hazy when they pull apart. “Okay, that’s not an answer.”

“Daniel, sweetheart. I think I already live here.”

A rueful smile spreads across Daniel’s face. “I thought maybe you hadn’t noticed.”

“I was pretending. Badly. But if it will make Worf happy, I can move in properly.”

“It will make Worf so happy.”

“Anything for the cat.”

They’re both smiling too hard to kiss properly. They give it their best go anyway.

Tony wants to bask in it properly afterwards, but they lack the time. Daniel has to order a new phone off the internet and see about getting his cell phone contract switched to a new number, which involves several emails and a very long phone call with customer service. When Daniel’s not using his phone, Tony texts various people, assuring them Daniel’s okay and they can meet up for Indian in a few hours. Then, Meredith turns up, and she and Daniel abscond to the kitchen to call their parents and fill them in on a heavily edited version of events. In the meantime, Colette and Tony pore over the email from the college president announcing the police have secured a credible lead concerning Amelia Lawrence’s murder, and campus has been declared safe, so classes are continuing as normal.

No further details are given, of course, but given Lily’s room has been searched, and the police are trying to find her boyfriend as an accomplice, it won’t be long before everyone knows. Neither of them says it out loud. Daniel might have gotten some sleep and some perspective, but he’ll still be blaming himself.

“A credible lead,” Tony repeats. “I’m impressed the detective thought highly enough of us to put it like that.”

“It must have killed her to say it.” Colette shakes her head. “When this gets out,

the college will really have to work on its image.”

“I hope no one in the film department makes a movie about it.” Tony shudders. Beyond his Mario-based prejudice against film professors, student films are truly terrible. Sean’s description of his artistic ambitions only confirmed that.

Colette makes a face. “What an awful thought. I suppose we all know where they would screen it.”

“Oh, I am never going there again.” Daniel peers over Colette’s shoulder at the email.

Colette scoffs. “You go back to Wordstone Mansion all the time, and Stacy shot you there. How is that different?”

“Wordstone is a nice place with a good view,” Daniel argues. “The Continuum is a blight on humanity, and someone pointed a gun at me there. No, thank you.”

From her position on the comfy chair, watching them, Meredith wrinkles her nose. “I’m running a tally of all the things you apparently say on a regular basis that would give our mother a heart attack.”

“You should try a bingo,” Colette suggests. “Winner gets a bottle of wine.”

Meredith snaps her fingers. “Sold.”

They drive to campus in Tony’s car, which is running smoothly for a change. It’s like it heard him threaten to get a newer model. He doesn’t trust it. Colette, Meredith, and Daniel switch to Daniel’s car when they get there, and Tony follows them to Red Hook. It leads them past the worst intersection north of Brooklyn, but Tony finds he doesn’t mind it so much now. They have time to wait out three light switches before they can get across.

Their group ends up occupying a private room in the restaurant, which is slightly ridiculous. It’s not a big restaurant, an impression only aided by the cluttered walls, low ceilings, and dim lighting Indian restaurants favor. Still, taking up a whole private room is not something Tony was planning on today.

“We’re leaving a big tip, right?” Tony mutters to Daniel as everyone starts to filter in, talking over one another.

Daniel nods wordlessly.

Almost immediately, Tony is drawn into explaining to Charlie and Blake G what happened. He’s helped by Blake W and, when she gets there, Lisa with Emilio in tow.

“What was I supposed to do, forget about him?” Lisa hisses to Tony. “He works from home, he doesn’t have any friends in the area, and his family lives in Jersey.”

“It’s fine by me. But remember, several of us suspected him of killing his wife, and he knows it. And we’ve been trying to help her actual killer. He has no reason to like us.”

Lisa winces and glances over at Emilio. He’s relating his involvement to Charlie in detail, and the way he narrates it, he has no hard feelings about Colette and Tony staking out his house.

“Well,” Tony says. “That works, I guess.”

It takes a while to get through the full story for everyone who wasn’t there for all of it. It’s not all pleasant. Rehashing what Lily did throws a pall over all of them. There’s Emilio’s anger, Daniel’s guilt, Gianna’s concern, and the collective knowledge that no matter what happens, no matter what they tried to achieve, Lily’s life will be forever changed in the worst way. In Tony’s opinion, the consequences are justified. Emilio’s life has also been destroyed, not to mention his daughter’s. But Tony knows Daniel won’t magically stop wishing he could have prevented it even if he understands what an awful mess Lily’s actions have created. Tony’s still working out how he feels about it.

He’s trying not to think about how it makes him feel—Daniel missing and possibly hurt, or worse, Lily causing it all, no matter how messed up she is. This is neither the place nor the time for working through it. Instead, Tony goes for seconds from the buffet, and most everyone follows suit.

Tony’s ma, who has never had Indian food in her life, works on some lamb saag with a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Do you think they’d give me a recipe?” she asks.

Gianna rolls her eyes. “Have you heard of Google, Ma?”

Through a series of comments, which Tony misses half of, Daniel and Emilio end up discussing several different methods of storing recipes online, something Emilio apparently does for his own parents and Daniel used to do when he was a grad student who could only cook three things.

Tony leans into Daniel’s space, bumping their shoulders together. “You say that like you can cook more things now, sweetheart.”

Daniel flicks his nose. “I wasn’t starving before I met you.”

“It’s true,” Colette says. “I used to think Daniel was a decent cook before you started feeding us.”

Resting his arm on the back of Tony’s chair, Tony examines her critically. “The Swedish Chef is a decent cook compared to you, Colette.”

In the circle of Tony’s arm, Daniel shakes with repressed laughter.

“When have you ever tried anything I’ve cooked?” Colette asks with supreme dignity.

“Never,” Tony tells her. “Because you don’t.”

Under the table, Daniel pats Tony’s knee. “Come on now. Don’t make her too mad.”

Tony kisses his cheek. “Fine. For you.” He wonders if Daniel and Colette have worked out their fight yesterday, or if they’re ignoring it.

When most everyone, including Daniel, has gone to examine the dessert selections, Tony catches his pa watching him.

“What’s up?” Tony asks.

“Nothing.”

That’s definitely a “something” voice.

“Pa.”

Pa shrugs. “He didn’t need to get kidnapped for you to treat him like your boyfriend in front of us.”

“Joseph,” Ma hisses. “We agreed—”

Pa holds up his hands. “I know, I know.”

“What did you agree?” Tony looks between them. Ma looks like she’s been caught red-handed. By comparison, Pa looks a little disgruntled, the way he does when he’s been asked to come to dinner right after his favorite show started.

“We agreed we weren’t going to push you to talk about anything,” Pa says matter-of-factly. “We didn’t want to drive you away.”

Tony clears his throat, heat suffusing the back of his neck. “That’s, uh, why I didn’t talk about it. In case it drove you away.”

“Tony,” Ma chastises. “You don’t think we’d—”

“No, no,” Tony says hastily. “Just—your church friends. Our clients at the shop. Didn’t want to rock the boat.”

“If that rocks the boat, they don’t deserve to be on it.” Ma tucks her napkin more firmly onto her lap as she says it, mouth drawn tight.

Wordlessly, Tony gets up and rounds the table to give her a hug.

If he squeezes a bit too tight and holds on a bit too long, well, no one says anything.

Gianna does take a picture, dessert in one hand and flash bright in Tony’s face.

“Come on,” she demands afterward. “Family photo. No, Daniel, you’re in it, too, come on.” She beckons him over, and he sets two bowls of rice pudding down at his and Tony’s places before he obeys.

Blake W takes the pictures, forcing them to make all sorts of dumb faces. They pass Lia around between them until there’s a picture of every one of them holding her, even Daniel, who still looks like he’s holding a ticking time bomb every time he ends up with her in his arms. Pa even sticks his tongue out for one.

“I’m putting that one on the shop Instagram,” Gianna says immediately, thumbs flying on her phone screen. “It’s a business strategy. People dig the whole family-run thing.”

Colette agrees despite having not entered an auto shop for the entire time she’s been living in the US. “It helps them identify with the product. There are some excellent anthropology papers about that.”

“Huh,” Pa says. Beyond putting a sign on the shop roof, he hasn’t ever demonstrated an interest in advertising.

Gianna, ever the academically minded d’Angelo, is far keener on anthropology. “You mind sending me those papers? We could definitely use some more marketing strategy if we want to beat out the new shop over on Ulster Avenue.”

“We’re not trying to beat anyone out,” Pa says, not for the first time. “Staying in business is enough for me.”

“With that attitude—” Gianna starts.

“Hey,” Tony says.

They don’t hear him at first, still occupied with their age-old discussion, so he tries again.

“Hey.” He glances over at Daniel and smiles involuntarily. “Uh, you should probably know I’m gonna move out.”

“Oh, we’re doing this now?” Daniel murmurs, soft enough only Tony hears it. “Okay.”

“Could have sworn you moved out in, like, June.” Gianna’s teasing, but she’s also smiling. Approving.

“Gianna.” Ma’s tone is warning. “Tony, are you telling us you and Daniel are moving in together?”

At his nod, a whole other event begins other than a joint post-kidnapping dinner. Suddenly, he and Daniel are surrounded by congratulations and offers to help, although what with, Tony isn’t sure on. Daniel’s apartment doesn’t need any more furniture except that dining table, and Tony doesn’t have enough essentials left at his parents’ house for more than one car trip. Everyone ends up ordering another round of drinks, and somehow, they still haven’t left by nine.

Tony’s not sure how long this restaurant usually stays open, but so far, no one tries to hurry them, and it’s nice to be surrounded by friends and family wishing them well.

One of the massive stainless steel serving dishes at the buffet table clatters to the floor with a loud crash, pulling them out of the warm haze that has settled over the group.

Everyone quiets down, even Blake W, who was busy exaggerating his own involvement in Lily’s recuperation for Blake G’s benefit.

“Professor Rosenbaum,” a voice calls from the restaurant’s main room. “I know you’re in here. Saw you playing happy families on the ‘gram.”

It’s a voice and, more importantly, a series of utterly college-student words Tony would recognize anywhere.

“Sean,” he mutters.

“Sean?” Colette gets to her feet. “Is that you? The police have been looking for you—”

“Yeah, I know they fuckin’ have,” he yells, still from the other room. “What the fuck did she tell you?”

“What did who tell me?”

“My lying, nutso girlfriend, that’s who. She’s been telling lies about me, trying to frame me, hasn’t she— Hey, get the fuck down.” He must be talking to the waitstaff.

A gunshot in a cramped restaurant with fabric on all the walls sounds muffled, but it’s unmistakable. At least, it is if you’ve heard a gunshot before.

“Quick,” Lisa says, the only one of them to have regular experience with active shooter drills. “Everyone under the tables. Hide.”

The last thing Tony hears is Colette muttering “Only in this godforsaken country” before everything is chaos.

Lia is first under the table, Blake and Gianna following quickly after to crouch on either side of her carrier. Others follow, but there’s not enough time to get everyone hidden.

The barrel of Sean’s gun twitches aside the curtain separating the room they’re in from the rest of the restaurant.

A whimper escapes from Ma, and Tony’s on his feet before he can reconsider.

“Sean,” he tries. “Sean, why don’t you put the gun down.”