Bending the Rules

by Margaret Watson

  Nathan had gone with the easy, obvious answer. And when O’Fallon offered the money for the kitchen renovation, Nathan had made another impulsive decision.

  When would he learn to think before he leaped?

  As soon as more FBI agents arrived, Nathan left Patrick to deal with them and Shaughnessy. Leaving the quiet intensity of their voices behind, he hurried up the stairs to Emma.

  Frankie’s old room was dark. Harley was asleep, thank God.

  But a welcoming beacon of light gleamed beneath the door of Patrick’s old room. He’d known Emma would be awake. She wouldn’t have gone to sleep without seeing him. When he knocked, she opened the door immediately, as if she’d been listening for his footsteps on the stairs.

  “What happened?” she whispered, searching his gaze. “Is everything okay?”

  No. He wasn’t sure if it would ever be okay. The magnitude of Mitch Kopecki’s betrayal was overwhelming. As was Nathan’s inability to see past the guy’s facade.

  But he took Emma’s hands in his. Pressed his lips to her palm. “It was the guy who was in prison for killing my parents. He had things to tell us.” Nathan swallowed. “I want to tell you what he said, but the most important thing is, Harley’s going to be safe. You, too.”

  “You don’t look happy,” Emma said, gripping his hands tightly.

  “I’m relieved that you and Harley are safe. But the rest of it?” He shook his head. “No. I’m not happy.”

  * * *

  IT WAS DAWN when Emma woke up the next morning. Alone. Again. Nathan was gone, leaving behind only the ghost of his scent and an indented pillow next to hers. They hadn’t made love—he’d just told her what had happened, then curled his fully clothed body around hers and held her.

  She’d thought he needed her, and she’d relaxed against him. But now she wondered if maybe he’d just needed the comfort of a warm body. Maybe anyone’s would have done the job.

  The echoes of his pained words shimmered in the morning light. The man who’d confessed to killing his parents wasn’t guilty. Mitch Kopecki, the charming man she’d met at Harley’s school, had been behind the wheel. A man Nathan had liked. Had trusted.

  As he’d talked, he’d kept her pressed to his side. She couldn’t see his face, couldn’t gauge how he felt. Had no idea what his steady voice was hiding.

  When she’d tried to look at him, he’d tightened his arm around her. Her tender lover from two nights ago was gone, replaced by this man who didn’t want her to see him.

  Finally he’d eased her down beside him, spooning her back into his chest. “Just for a minute, Emma. I need to hold you.”

  He’d kissed her hair, cocooned her with his warmth. It had been a long, emotional day, and in spite of her determination to stay awake, she’d soon fallen asleep in his arms.

  Emma stumbled down the stairs, still half-asleep. She needed coffee to wake her up, to help her focus her thoughts. Harley would need her today.

  When she reached the ground floor, she saw a light in the kitchen. Heard the faint murmur of agitated voices. She hesitated, wondering if she should go back upstairs. But she was tired of waiting. Tired of being cautious and careful.

  Nathan and Patrick looked at her as she appeared in the kitchen door. Neither of them seemed to have slept. The skin beneath Nathan’s eyes was purple and shadowed, his face drawn and tired. But he smiled when he saw her.

  “Emma.” He stumbled to his feet, bent and kissed her cheek. “Coffee?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  He waved her to a chair, poured a cup of coffee for her. Then he dropped heavily onto his chair.

  “Paddy and I are waiting for the bank to open so we can get the proof Shaughnessy stashed in a safe-deposit box. The FBI’s going to expedite identifying any fingerprints we find and comparing the handwriting to Kopecki’s. Then we’re going to pay him a visit.”

  Patrick scowled. “There shouldn’t be any ‘we’ about this. It’s a police case, and Nate doesn’t belong there. But he’s insisting.” Patrick rubbed at the bristles on his face and glanced at Nathan out of the corner of his eye. “Hard to refuse. Mom and Dad’s death changed his life more than anyone else’s. Maybe he deserves to be there when we take Kopecki down.”

  “What can I do?” she asked.

  Nathan reached for her hand. “Take Harley to school and then go to work. Keep everything normal. I’ll call you as soon as I have any information.”

  “I’m going to worry,” she said quietly.

  “I know. But I’ll be fine. So will Paddy. Kopecki’s not going to try anything at his office.”

  Emma looked from Nathan’s determined face to Patrick’s stone-cold demeanor. She hoped he was right, but her stomach twisted and she pushed the coffee away.

  * * *

  NATHAN ROLLED HIS shoulders as he stood beside Patrick outside the door of Kopecki’s office at the Daley Center. His brother reached beneath his jacket, checking the gun tucked into a holster. Then he rapped on the door.

  “Come in,” Kopecki called.

  He smiled when he saw Nathan and Patrick, but there was a cautious shadow in his eyes. Had it always been there or had Nathan just failed to see it?

  “Paddy. Nate. Good to see you.” He stood up and shook their hands, motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. “What can I do for you?”

  As soon as he was seated, Nathan leaned forward. “You...”

  Patrick shoved him back in his chair, shot him a warning look. “Mr. Kopecki, I have a warrant for your arrest. For vehicular homicide, driving under the influence and fleeing the scene. You going to let me search you, or do I have to cuff you and walk you out in front of your colleagues?”

  Kopecki’s gaze shifted from Patrick to Nathan, and he tugged at his collar. “What the hell are you talking about, Paddy? I don’t even drink.”

  “You were drinking fifteen years ago. The night you ran a red light and killed my parents. Injured me.” Patrick stared at the older man, his gaze unwavering.

  “That’s bullshit. They caught the guy who did that.” A bead of sweat rolled down Kopecki’s temple. “Sent him to prison. That’s over.”

  “I guess you don’t remember that Peter Shaughnessy made you write out a statement before he agreed to take the rap for you.” Patrick laid a piece of paper on the desk in front of Kopecki. It was a copy of the paper they’d found in the safe-deposit box. “The writing matches yours, and your fingerprints are on it.”

  The older man’s gaze skittered from the paper to Patrick to Nathan and back to the paper. Then he seemed to shrink into his chair, collapsing like a sand castle swallowed by a wave.

  Nathan leaned forward, the taste of the betrayal bitter in his mouth. “You were a friend of ours. Your son is Paddy’s friend. You came into our restaurant. Ate with us. How could you do this?”

  “It was an accident.” Kopecki’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I was scared, and I acted impulsively. But I tried to make it right. I watched out for you all these years. Where do you think you got the money for that work you did on the restaurant?”

  “So that was you,” Nathan murmured. “Were you the one behind the expedited building permits? The bribes to the inspectors?”

  “I took care of all of it. I tried to help you out when I could.” He smiled, but it was more of a grimace. “You were just a kid. You were in over your head, so I did what I could. Protected you.”

  “Why did you go through O’Fallon with the money? Why no
t give it to me yourself?”

  “I figured you wouldn’t take it. Or if you did, it would make things awkward when I came into Mama’s. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

  “So you let O’Fallon’s thug do your dirty work.”

  “I had nothing to do with that. I just wanted to get you the money.” He leaned toward Nathan. “Didn’t you ever do something you shouldn’t? Make a bad decision?”

  “Yeah,” Nathan said slowly. The realization hit him, his similarities to Mitch Kopecki. And his differences. “I’ve made a bunch of bad decisions. Taking that money for the renovation was just one of them.” His head spun as he stared at Kopecki. “But the stuff you did was to protect yourself. To keep your job. To keep your reputation.”

  “It’s so long ago, Nathan. Patrick. Can’t you forgive me for what I did?” Kopecki’s face was gray, his eyes haunted.

  “Not now.” Nathan leaned forward. “I can understand being scared after the accident. Running away and bribing someone else to take the blame. I know how people can make a bad decision on the spur of the moment. And I can see you thought you were doing something good when you helped me out with the restaurant. But you came after my kid. You threatened my daughter. Terrified her.” Nathan would never forgive Mitch for what he’d done to his daughter. “Who put the note in Harley’s backpack?”

  “Chet Dempster. A math teacher at the school. I’ve done him a few favors, and he owed me one. I only wanted you to stay away from Shaughnessy, but you wouldn’t stop. You kept digging. I wouldn’t have hurt the kid.”

  “She didn’t know that. And neither did I.”

  Nathan stared at Mitch Kopecki. Nathan had considered him a friend. He’d liked Mitch. But the man had built his life on a lie, and it was all dissolving in front of him.

  Nathan slumped in his own chair. Looking at Mitch was almost like looking in a mirror. Nathan had made bad decisions, too. He’d acted without thinking. Accepting the money from O’Fallon had been the latest example.

  Nathan took a deep breath. Mitch looked years older than he had fifteen minutes ago. All the bad decisions the older man had made were rolling over him and tearing his family apart.

  How was Nathan any different?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  EMMA WANDERED AROUND her empty apartment. It was the first time she’d been alone here since Harley came to live with her. There were a million things she could do—take a long bath, read, catch up on the television shows she’d missed.

  Instead, she wondered if Harley was having a good time with Nathan and Marco at Mama’s. Wondered what Harley and Marco were cooking. Wondered why Nathan had wanted to take Harley to Mama’s. Without her.

  Did he simply want to spend time with his daughter? Or was he going to tell Harley he was leaving?

  He wouldn’t do that without discussing it with Emma first. Would he?

  She had no idea. The man she’d thought she’d known had turned into a stranger after his brother had arrested Kopecki almost a week ago. She’d seen him once, the evening he’d come to their apartment to tell them Kopecki had made a full confession, that he was in jail and Harley was no longer in danger. Holding his daughter tightly, soothing her tears, he’d added that Chet Dempster, Harley’s former math teacher and apparently a friend of Kopecki’s, had put the note in her backpack, and he wouldn’t be back at her school.

  Then he’d kissed Emma, murmured that he had a million things to take care of at the restaurant, but that he’d be in touch.

  Emma was happy that Nathan’s questions had been answered, happy his burden had been lifted. But she’d ached for the way he blamed himself for not seeing the truth earlier. For his doubts about his judgment.

  She hadn’t seen him since. She’d begged him to come over. She wanted to comfort him. But he’d had to concentrate on business, he’d told her.

  He called her every night. Talked to Harley, made her smile. Laugh. But when Harley passed the phone to Emma, there was no laughter in Nathan’s voice. He sounded sad. Tired. Worn down.

  And he didn’t want to see them.

  Finally Emma had taken Harley to Mama’s for dinner a few nights ago. She was pretty sure Nathan had been glad to see them—he’d hugged Harley, kissed Emma’s cheek, but he’d been busy. He’d stopped by their table once, but hadn’t lingered.

  She threw herself on the couch, turned on the television. But after scrolling through the channels, she switched it off again. She was in no mood for The Bachelor. Or a fluffy romantic comedy. Or an angsty drama.

  She wasn’t in the mood for anything. She’d thought she’d been so smart to be cautious with Nathan, to guard her heart against his leaving. But his absence this week had been an unbearable taste of what it would be like when he left. If it was bad now, it would be hell when he actually walked away.

  When her buzzer rang, she didn’t even bother to get off the couch. She wasn’t expecting anyone. When it rang again, longer this time, she dragged herself to her feet and pressed the intercom. “Yes?”

  “Emma, it’s Nathan. Can I come up?”

  Her fingers trembled as she pushed the button to unlock the vestibule door. She opened her own door and listened to his footsteps on the stairs. He wasn’t using his cane—she’d gotten used to the thump of it as he walked.

  When he reached her floor, she threw herself at him, forgetting that she’d been hurt by his distance. He was here now, and somehow that made things better. “Nathan.” Her arms tightened around him, and she pressed her mouth to his. “I’ve missed you.”

  His arms engulfed her as he kissed her back. “I’ve missed you, too,” he murmured into her mouth.

  She let herself cling to him for a moment, then eased away. “Where’s Harley?”

  “With Marco.” He brushed his mouth over hers again. “Working their magic together. I wanted to see you, and I figured she wouldn’t miss me.”

  “I’m sure she will, Dad.”

  His eyes lit up and he smiled. “Not when she’s cooking.”

  She drew him into her apartment and closed the door. “Want a beer?”

  “No.” He drew her close. “I just want you, Emma.”

  Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against his. This was what she’d missed this week. Nathan’s arms around her. His mouth on hers. Inhaling his scent, feeling his muscles against her. “Me, too,” she murmured. “I want you, too, Nathan.”

  “Then you’ll love my idea.”

  He stood back, grinning. “I’ve been thinking about my trip all week. I’ve wanted this trip for so long, and although I have a lot of work to do while I’m in Italy, I can’t bear to leave you and Harley behind. And I realized the solution is simple.”

  Was he going to stay home? She grabbed his hands, twined their fingers. “Tell me.”

  “I want you and Harley to come with me. I bought two more tickets, so we can discover Italy together. All three of us.”

  Her heart soared. He was as serious about them as she was. They were solid. Together.

  “That sounds wonderful, Nathan.” She rose on her toes and kissed him. “Harley will be out of school in three months. The timing will be perfect.”

  He eased away from her, puzzled. “I wasn’t talking about three months from now, Emma. We’re leaving next week.”

  “Next week? You want us to go with you in a week?” She swallowed, but held his gaze. “Why so soon?”

  “Why not?”

  “Is there a reason we have to
leave so quickly?” Tell me you love me. That this isn’t just an impulse. That this is forever.

  “I have a bunch of appointments with potential suppliers. Marco and I have talked about this, about using authentic Italian pastas, about buying our cheese in Italy, our canned tomatoes. Our sausage. It took me months to set it all up. I could cancel them, I suppose, but why would I do that? The problems at the restaurant are behind me. Kopecki’s in jail. We have another manager who can take over. I’ve planned this for a long time.”

  “Harley...Harley has school. I have to work. Summer would be better.” She stared at him, hoping he could see what she needed. That she needed to know this wasn’t another impulse for him. That he had a reason for wanting them with him.

  “School? Work?” He frowned. “This will be the best education possible. We’ll be gone three weeks, but we can get Harley a tutor when we get back, to help her catch up. And you get vacation time, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, but...but I can’t just announce I’m leaving. There are forms to fill out. Paperwork. Someone has to take over my cases.”

  “Those are just details, Emma. Small details.”

  “Important details.” She couldn’t leap again. She needed to know why he wanted her to go with him. Tell me you love me. That you can’t live without me.

  “Emma, you’re being unreasonable.” He stepped away from her, shoved his hands through his hair. “These are excuses. I thought you cared about me. That you’d want to go with me. Was I wrong?”

  “I do care about you, Nathan. But I can’t just...just turn my whole life upside down on a moment’s notice.” Nathan was her mom all over again—jumping in without looking. Doing things without thinking of the consequences.

  And she was protecting herself, just as she’d always done with her mother.

  “It’s only three months,” she said, and she heard the desperation in her voice. “Why can’t you wait?”