Page 22 of Fatal Deception

“Sounds like literally everyone in your life that you love.”

Since she desperately wanted to change the subject, and it brought up a new one, it was Audra’s turn to lean forward. “Don’t tell Rosalie if you talk to her.”

“Audra.”

“She shouldn’t cut her honeymoon short for this, and she would. And for what? So she can storm around shooting right back and making things more complicated?”

Vi pulled a face, rubbed the side of her belly. “I’ll think about it, but I’m not making any promises.”

THEY ATE DINNERand didn’t discuss the shooting or the threats. Hart didn’t come out and say it, but Copeland got the impression that he hadn’t sharedallthe details with his wife.

So they talked about baby names and paternity leave and so much family stuff Copeland wanted to jump out of his own skin.

He didn’t do family stuff. He could go for a beer with Hart and hear about the kid, or even listen to Laurel and Hart yammer on about family life at work, but doing it at a family kitchen table just made everything…awful.

There’d been a time he thought this would be his future. The wife. The kid. The dinners at a kitchen table, just like he’d grown up with. It was long ago enough that it shouldn’t still cut like a rusty blade, but it damn well did.

When Magnolia gleefully knocked over her cup of milk, Copeland faked a phone call and stepped out of the room. Into the cold night. Until he could breathe.

But before he could go back in, the front porch light flicked on and the whole crew spilled out of the front door in noisy, cheerful exuberance.

Audra was carrying Magnolia, and Vi was laughing about something she’d said. But Hart jerked his chin toward Copeland’s cruiser, and started walking that way, so Copeland followed him.

“You’re sure you’re good with staying? At least until Vi’s out of the hospital. Our parents are coming, so I’ve got help. I can take a turn or two out here. I can—”

“Take care of your family, Hart,” Copeland said, irritated at how sharp his voice sounded. “I’ve got this handled.” He glanced at the two women standing in the dim glow of the porch light.

They made quite the pair. Vi’s hair was reddish brown, just like Audra’s. Even with the big baby bump, she had a…fragile air about her. Copeland knew Vi’s story—abusive ex she’d escaped,twice—so he knew she was tough, but she didn’t have thelookof toughness about her. Not like Audra did.

Audra had little Magnolia on her hip while she spoke to Vi, who looked huge and uncomfortable and reminded Copeland of too many things he’d left behind.

So Copeland forced his gaze onto Hart. And, in spite of himself, tried to soothe his worry. “This stuff, it’s all connected. But it’s all…weird, petty stuff. You guys don’t need to worry. I’ll figure it out.”

Hart only frowned. “A gravestone feels more threatening than petty.”

“I’d agree, but they shot to destroy. Not to hurt.”

“It hurts.”

“You know what I mean.” He glanced back at Audra. Couldn’t seem to stop himself. “She can’t think of anyone, notanyone, who’d want to mess with her. Who doesn’t at least have one enemy?”

“Audra Young.”

Copeland grunted. “She suggested someone after Rosalie. It makes more sense on paper, but in reality…”

“This is all really personal.”

“Yeah.”

Hart sighed. “Maybe this goes without saying, but since I’m going to be focused on my wife tomorrow, I have to say it. Audra’s my family, even if it’s only by marriage. If anything happens to her…”

“I’ve got it handled. She doesn’t want me here, but I’m not leaving. Blood on my hands isn’t my MO.”

“Yeah, that all it’s about?”

Copeland didn’t stiffen, though he wanted to. “What else would it be about?”

“You’re not exactly a monk.”