By Break of Day (The Night Stalkers) by M. L. Buchman

Author:M. L. Buchman [Buchman, M. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781492619161
Amazon: 1492619167
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Published: 2016-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“Kara!”

She wished people would stop shouting her name when she was busy swooning.

Then the voice registered through her Justin-induced haze.

“Papa!”

She moved to hug him but he kept her at arm’s length.

“You’re soaked through, girl.” He wore his J.C. Penney’s suit from his work as a detective at the 78th Precinct. His umbrella had kept him dry on the walk home from his shift.

She pushed his arm aside and splatted herself against him. “Oh, you’re all warm too.” The May rain certainly wasn’t. She snuggled in and rested her head on his shoulder as he patted her back. He smelled like home. His cheap suits and stale coffee. The lingering hint of the inevitable salami sub that Nonna made for him every morning, heavy on the mustard.

“You’re kissing cowboys in the rain, mia piccola?”

Kara stepped back and grinned at the outline of her damp self on his dark suit. He wore his silver tie that she’d bought him for Christmas years ago. “You were in court today?” She reached out to loosen the tie.

He batted her hands away and gave her one of those stern looks that still made her feel like she was twelve.

She loved coming home so much. “Yes, I am kissing a cowboy. And, trust me, Papa, ain’t nobody more surprised by that than me. But can we get out of the rain before I introduce y’all?” It slipped out before she could stop it. “I’m gonna be drowning here any second.”

She glanced back at Justin who was either on the verge of running in panic or about to laugh in her face; she couldn’t quite tell which. Maybe both. To forestall his escape, she hooked an arm through each man’s elbow, as Justin had already shouldered her duffel on top of his, and she turned them for home.

“‘Y’all’ is a surprisingly useful word.” She addressed her father. “English has no voi.” Which sounded like a lame excuse even to her.

“’Course English does, little lady.” Justin squeezed her hand tighter in the crook of his elbow. “It has a perfectly fine one, and you used it just right. Even if your accent is still all Yankeefied.”

Papa gave a snort that was about as close as he ever got to a laugh.

Kara hoped that was a good sign. Unlike with other men she’d brought home, she discovered that she cared whether or not Papa liked this one.

* * *

Justin stood on the polished wood of the front entryway and did his best not to drip on the floor. A tropical monsoon’s worth of water was running off his and Kara’s clothes, forming a widening puddle.

Alfonso Moretti Senior had a grip like a cop…or a farrier who could bend horseshoes without needing his anvil. It was a crushing handclasp even by Justin’s standards. The look in Mr. Moretti’s eye said that he had rid Kara of more than few of her male suitors with that grip and a dose of that evil glance.

He smiled and offered a sharp nod when Justin returned as good as he was given.

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