Sinful Longing (Sinful Nights, #3)(25)
“You did?”
Marcus nodded several times and ran a hand over his chin, a gesture that Colin often did. Well, it wasn’t unique to him. Lots of people did that. Still, he felt as if he was looking in a mirror for a second, seeing a young man trying to do good. “Yeah. Learned some stuff about P and L statements. I’m going to college in the fall.”
“Good. I’m glad. Let me know if you need any more help. Math is kind of my forte. I’d be happy to work with you if you need anything.”
Marcus smiled briefly. “I will. Thanks. That means a lot to me,” he said, and his voice sounded like the very definition of the word hopeful. Odd, considering they were talking about math. For a moment, Marcus seemed as if he was about to say something more but he cut himself off. “I gotta run.”
“Take it easy,” Colin said and turned the other way.
He had an appointment with Rex to work on advanced algebra, thanks to the bet he’d won on the court the other day. As he headed to the homework room, his phone buzzed in his back pocket. His heart beat faster with the hope that it would be Elle, confirming a time for tomorrow evening. Then he nearly smacked himself for being so damn eager to see her.
Take it easy. Play it cool.
But hey, what man wouldn’t want to see the woman who willingly and beautifully embraced the kind of pleasure he and Elle shared? Memories of her flashed before him, but his hopes were dashed when his brother Michael’s name appeared on the screen with a text message.
M: Detective wants to meet again tonight re: some new info. Ryan has some details. He’s going to call you a little later when he’s in a better cell zone. I’m going with you to see the detective.
Colin heaved a sigh.
It didn’t matter to Michael that the detective liked to meet with them alone to discuss the reopened investigation into their father’s murder eighteen years ago and his search for the suspected accomplices. Determined as ever, Michael would have his way. Colin suspected this was Michael’s means of making up for something that had never been his fault. After Colin’s drinking and pill problem came to light, Michael had blamed himself for the trouble that his brother had gotten into in high school, especially because of the company Colin had kept as a young teen.
“You’re crazy. Those are my mistakes, and I’m taking responsibility for them,” Colin had said to him one night a few years ago, when his older brother told him how shitty he felt for not having known about his addictions. “I’ve accepted and moved beyond the fact that I made some bad choices and picked the wrong friends. Let’s just learn from the past and let it go,” he’d said, relying on the advice he’d leaned on in his recovery group.
“Fine, but I’m here for you now. Anything and everything,” Michael had answered, like it was a new blood oath they were taking.
Anything and everything apparently included meeting with the detective to discuss new wrinkles regarding drugs and murder. Michael was probably coming along as some sort of buffer between the past and the present, as if he could shield Colin somehow. Colin didn’t need that protection any longer, even when talking to the detective about the friends he’d had when younger. But Michael needed to be present more than Colin needed him, so he let his big brother be the big brother. That was part of Colin’s own letting go—accepting that the people he loved wanted to give of themselves in the ways that they could.
He fired off a return text.
C: Working with the kids now. Should be done in an hour or so and hope to catch Ryan then. Did he give you the details?
As Colin walked into the game room, a reply arrived.
M: The call kept breaking up. Something about that pattern. Sounds like it’s a hell of a lot more than a few names and addresses.
The pattern again. That damn pattern Ryan had told him about. When he’d first learned whose names were in it, he couldn’t believe that he’d known both men many years ago. Now they somehow held clues to his father’s murder.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A construction crew jackhammered outside her closed window, smashing the broken sections of the basketball court in preparation for smoothing them over with a fresh concrete surface. A pair of new security guards patrolled the block, courtesy of Colin. The sight of them brought a smile to her face—the man had moved quickly to make sure the center was safe during a time of transition.
As Elle surveyed the signs of change, she chatted on the phone with some of the center’s biggest donors, making her round of calls to thank them for their contributions.
She’d started sending letters and flowers earlier in the week, and was following up today with personal calls. She dialed another number and spoke briefly with a benefactor in San Francisco named Charlie, who’d attended the Beethoven event. “We couldn’t have done it without you. We’re already starting the work, and I’m thrilled to say it’s going well so far,” Elle said as she gazed out the window. “I’m watching them rebuilding the basketball court right now. And the boys spend a lot of time there, so your contribution is being put to good use immediately.”
“It is a pleasure and an honor to help such a worthy cause.”
“If you’re in Vegas again, I do hope you’ll stop by the center to see our work.”
“I come to Vegas often. Once a week now, it seems, and I will take you up on it. And please, you can count on me to be a regular contributor. The center is a worthy cause, and it also allows me to right some wrongs from my past.”