Page 68 of Mr. Perfect

“Minestrone,” Jude said when he returned.

“My favorite.”

Felix turned and found Jude standing at the threshold of the room. Their gazes locked, and neither man so much as blinked until a grandfather clock chimed somewhere in the house.

Jude crossed to him, extending the shirt. “Do you want me to put more ointment on your wounds?”

Felix accepted the soft T-shirt. Jude discovering that he had kept it all these years felt different now. Tuesday night, the gesture came across as sweet and maybe a little like a peace offering. Now, Felix just felt foolish.

“Not right now,” Felix said. His arms and shoulders were stiff as hell, but he managed to pull the shirt on without too much discomfort.

They carried their plates and bowls over to a small table tucked into the nook. Felix only planned to take a few bites of his soup and grilled cheese before interrogating Jude, but he couldn’t stop shoveling food in his mouth once he started. He ate his sandwich, half of Jude’s, and two bowls of minestrone.

“More soup?” Jude asked.

Felix shook his head and set his spoon inside the empty bowl. “No, but it’s the best minestrone I’ve had in ages.”

“I’ve tweaked the recipe a lot over the years, but I still can’t get mine to taste as good as Del Rey’s.”

Felix felt a pang in his heart at hearing the name of the Italian restaurant where they’d had their first date. Felix had never heard of minestrone soup until Jude had taken him there.

“It’s been so long I can’t remember what Del Rey’s soup tastes like, but this was amazing.”

Jude stacked his bowl on top of his plate and started to reach for Felix’s dirty dishes too.

“Huh-uh,” Felix said. “I’m firing on all cylinders now. No more procrastination.”

Jude leaned back in his chair and dropped his hands to his lap. “Jack Mercy killed my father.”

“I thought you said he died of an aneurysm.”

“Because that’s what my mother and everyone else told me. I was a devastated kid, reeling from the sudden loss of my father. They didn’t think it was a great time to tell me my dad’s firm had direct ties to the Southern mafia, and the man I’d called Uncle Jack was the crime boss.”

Jude picked up his glass with a shaking hand and took a long drink of water. He set it down, then picked up the napkin next to his plate. Jude stared off into space with a pained expression on his face while absentmindedly tearing strips of paper. He looked so distant and alone. Felix wanted to comfort him, but he was as immobile as if someone had glued him to the seat.

“Jesus, Jude. I’m sorry,” Felix said.

Jude flinched, and Felix regretted saying anything. Then Jude looked down at the table and tilted his head as he studied the mess he’d made. His expression tightened, and he balled the paper strips in his fist.

“The longer my mom waited to tell me the truth, the easier it became to justify the lie. She needed to keep me alive. She wanted to stay alive to watch me grow. My mother limited my exposure to Jack after my father’s death, but he was always in the periphery. Far enough that I wasn’t privy to who he really was, but close enough so my mom would know Jack was watching.”

“Why?” Felix asked. “I assume he killed your dad to silence him.”

Jude looked up and met Felix’s stare, then nodded.

“You said your father’s firm was connected to Mercy. Was he a lawyer?”

Jude smirked. “Accountant. Remember, Al Capone was sent to prison for tax evasion and not because of the deaths he was responsible for. There’s always a trail when it comes to money. Yes, you can launder it and slow the feds down, but they’ll eventually find the right path and follow it to both ends.”

Felix rubbed a hand over his face. “So, your father either stumbled across something he shouldn’t have, or he knew Mercy was bad all along and had a change of conscience.”

Jude winced. “It was the latter.”

“How and when did you find all this out?” Felix asked. Then he remembered the interview Jude did with The Auto King last year. “Spencer.”

“In a roundabout way, yes. The interview started off innocently enough, but I noticed Spencer’s hesitation when I started digging deeper for information on the parolees taking part in his program. At the time, it was in its infancy, and he didn’t have a board running the show as he does now. I offered to set up an interview so the enrollees could talk about what their second chance meant to them. He declined.”

“And miss out on the good publicity? That’s odd,” Felix said.