Craft Brew Page 13

  Though seeing a room full of dark furrowed brows glaring at him, the only other person besides Cam dressed in a suit, Nic thought maybe he should have trusted his gut and waited downstairs. His gut soured further when Cam, putting extra distance between them, introduced him formally. “Everyone, this is Dominic Price. He’s a federal prosecutor I work with in San Francisco.”

  Bobby greeted him first, his blue eyes kind as he shook Nic’s hand, thanked him for coming, and for having Cam’s back last spring.

  Keith, who Nic recognized from his bearing, remained standing apart in the far corner of the lounge. “Why are you bringing more people into this?” he asked Cam. “Jamie wasn’t enough?”

  “Nic’s the reason your leave got extended. Show some respect.”

  Keith strode forward, arms over his chest. “My CO said it was a SEAL captain that got my leave extended, not a fucking suit.”

  From his conversations with Cam, Nic had expected Keith’s attitude. He even expected the bite in his words, having dealt with more than a few hotheaded enlisteds. So he’d come prepared, with his zippered case of ribbons and medals, and he’d clipped in two of the most distinctive pins, rank insignia Keith would recognize, as cufflinks before they’d left the hotel. Making sure his cuff was showing, he held out a hand to Keith. “Retired Captain Dominic Price, SEAL Team 3 and Navy JAG Corps.”

  Bobby whistled low, and Keith’s startled blue eyes grew wide.

  The sergeant snapped to attention with his next breath, as a well-trained Marine would do. “Apologies, Captain.” Keith shook his hand. “This is a sensitive subject for our family. I’m not at my best.”

  “I’m aware of that, Sergeant,” Nic replied. “Cam’s also a friend. I know this is a difficult time for all of you. You’re doing better than most, under the circumstances.”

  “Who’s this?” came an even thicker Southie voice behind them.

  Nic turned, spying the man who could only be Cam’s father standing in the doorway, two trays of coffees in hand.

  Bobby relieved him of the coffees, passing them around, while Cam introduced Nic to his father, who greeted him warmly, expressing his gratitude for getting Keith’s leave extended. “You’re friends with Cam in San Francisco?” Nic nodded, and Ken slapped his back. “Be a good wingman and help my son find a wife who can get him to sleep.”

  Beside him, Cam jerked, and Nic flailed for a response, at a rare loss for words.

  A wife.

  Not a wife or husband. And back in the hotel room, Quinn had asked if there was a girl in there. Not a girl or guy.

  Was Cam not—

  Before Nic could finish his thought, a doctor appeared in the doorway.

  “How’s Mom?” Quinn asked.

  “Why don’t we all have a seat?” the doctor said.

  “That don’t sound too good, Doc,” Ken said, as the family scattered around the room, claiming chairs and sofas. If Nic had his way, he’d sit on the arm of the chair Cam had fallen into, but if his suspicion was right, that’d be last thing Cam wanted. So he took up a spot on the wall near him. Apart from the family, but close enough Cam would know he was there for him and without causing him more distress.

  “She’s holding her own,” the doctor said.

  “With this many of us,” Quinn said, “she’s had a lot of practice.”

  Laughter broke the tension, but then the mood nose-dived again with the doctor’s next words. “That’s good. She’s gonna need all her strength as we go on. We have to clean out some arteries, but I need to remind you of the possible complications, including an increased risk of embolism and stroke.”

  Cam sucked in a breath, and Nic took a step forward, the instinct to go to him automatic. Until Cam stiffened, his rigid posture as clear a “stay back” sign as any. The comfort wasn’t welcome. Not here at least.

  Because Cam wasn’t out as bisexual to his family.

  The rest of the doctor’s words faded as Nic fell back against the wall and turned that revelation over in his head, a sandstorm brewing in his stomach and mouth and itching under his skin. Christ, the last thing Nic wanted to hide at this point in life was his sexuality. There’d been no going back after he’d made public that fact at eighteen. It’d driven his every step forward. It was who he was, Garrett had helped him realize that. Serving during Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, he’d had to be careful, to take his extracurricular activities off base, but Nic had never pretended to be what he wasn’t. Embracing his sexuality was as much a promise to himself as a tribute to that first love and an atonement for what had been lost because of it. To be free and to love who he wanted.

  If he and Cam kept building something, he wouldn’t want to hide that either. While Nic had been reticent last spring to make their relationship public—to protect Cam from Vaughn, to avoid awkwardness with their friends, to avoid issues at work—those were all temporary hurdles that could be cleared. And they had nothing to do with him being gay or Cam being bisexual. Cam was too good a man for Nic not to want to live and love him openly. This, however, was a much different, much higher, hurdle.

  It wasn’t a hurdle he could boost Cam over either. Coming out to his family was a decision Nic had made for himself. Granted, his hand had been forced, but he’d said the words, he’d made the final call. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—make that call for Cam, especially not in a situation that was already fraught with tension. And especially when he didn’t know enough about the Byrne family dynamics to know whether Cam’s coming out would be accepted. Sure, they’d accepted Jamie, but he wasn’t their son or brother. Nic recalled his interview with Becca yesterday, how she’d described her family turning against her. Like Nic’s father had turned on him. He didn’t think that would be the case with Cam’s family, but he didn’t know. Only Cam did, and he’d chosen not to say anything about the two of them being more than colleagues and friends.

  Which was what Nic would have to be. And only that.

  Far short of what he really wanted with Cam.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As the doctor continued to go over surgical forms, Nic excused himself to make a call. He needed to make sure the ball he’d started rolling yesterday with DOJ on Shannon Murphy’s case was on track. He also needed a break from the mounting tension between the Byrne brothers and from the realizations he’d had about Cam and his feelings toward him.

  He didn’t have long to dwell, DOJ expediting his call to the Deputy Attorney General. “Price,” he answered. “Tell me you’re calling with an answer about San Diego.”

  “No, sir. I need to reserve that decision for the end of the week.” Given this latest development, and the strain Nic sensed Cam was under being away from his family, San Diego was still in play. “Unless your timeline’s been moved up.”

  The Deputy AG chuckled. “Price, you know as well as I do that my timeline is always moved up. But for this I can wait.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Now, what was it you needed?”

  He gave the Deputy AG the thirty-thousand-foot view of the situation, emphasizing his experience handling delicate cases, Cam’s experience as a K&R expert, and the potential connection Shannon’s disappearance had to multiple cold cases. Federal prosecutors didn’t usually go digging into those; bad for the clearance rate. But Nic was willing to take the risk, if it brought Shannon home and Cam’s family peace.

  “They’re already overworked in the Boston office, and if the Bureau SAC there backs your and Byrne’s involvement, that’ll go a long way. I doubt they’re going to object, but let me touch base with them and get back to you.”

  “Appreciate it, sir.”

  “I’ve got hearings up on the Hill again this afternoon, so it might be my assistant or the Boston office you hear from.”

  “I’ll be on the lookout for the call. And good luck with the hearings.”

  “Thanks.
” Not an amused chuckle this time. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you Friday.”

  Call ended, Nic was calmer than when he’d started, the deep dive back into work and protocol grounding. It helped as he rejoined Cam and his brothers gathered outside Edith’s room. Cam maintained a careful distance between them, close enough for friends and colleagues, nothing more. As it were, Keith was arguing strenuously, and loudly, against Cam and Nic speaking to his mother about the case. He understandably didn’t want to upset her. Cam understandably didn’t want her to think he wasn’t doing as she asked.

  The lady herself made them both understand she was the one in charge. “Keith!” she called from inside the room. “Stop making trouble.”

  The younger man scoffed. “Me,” he said, looking back and forth between them. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation at all if not for—”

  “That’s enough,” Edye cut him off. “Let your brother in.”

  Nic couldn’t see her from where he stood, but that voice left no room for argument. Realizing he’d lost this round, Keith blustered out, shoving Cam’s shoulder as he passed.

  “We got him.” Bobby snagged Quinn’s sleeve and followed Keith into the elevator.

  “Your father?” Nic asked, noting the older man’s absence.

  “With my sisters-in-law in the cafeteria. Mom insisted he eat and take his meds.”

  “And I insist you get in here,” she called from inside the room.

  “I can wait out here,” Nic offered.

  “No, I want you in there.” With me, unsaid but said. Until he added, “In case there’s something helpful for the case,” and Nic wondered if he’d imagined Cam’s true intention.

  He nodded and stepped aside so Cam could lead them into the room. Cam’s hand coasting across his lower back was enough of an answer, for now.

  Inside, Edith sat propped up in the hospital bed, book on her lap, dark eyes sharp behind a pair of reading glasses.

  It was clear who ruled the Byrne family.

  “Who is this gorgeous specimen?” she asked, eyes blatantly raking him up and down. It was also clear where Cam got his flirtatious streak.

  “Mom,” Cam groaned, the picture of an embarrassed child as he pulled a second chair next to the bed.

  Nic laughed out loud as he avoided the IVs and wires and gently shook Edye’s hand. “Nic Price, I work with your son, in San Francisco.”

  “You’re an FBI agent?”

  “No, ma’am.” He lowered himself in the chair next to Cam, not wanting to loom over her. He braced his forearms on crossed legs and leaned forward, keeping up the rapport. “I’m a federal prosecutor.”

  “He’s being modest,” Cam said, casting him a side-eye. “He’s second in command at the local US Attorneys’ Office.”

  She straightened a little, catching on. “Are you here to help Cam? To help me?”

  “I’m going to do whatever I can. He’s made good headway.”

  Her gaze shifted to her son. “What’ve you found?”

  Cam updated her on his findings, fully as to the cold cases, then more generally as to the Murphy matter. Enough to give her hope, but not enough to compromise the ongoing investigation.

  “What about all the other girls? In the books?”

  “Most of them have been found.”

  “We actually ran into one earlier this year,” Nic added.

  “What about the ones who haven’t been found? You said they fit a pattern? That Erin fits it too?”

  The heart attack clearly hadn’t affected her mental faculties. She’d distilled all that down to the connections to her missing daughter.

  “She does.” Cam curled a hand around hers. “But don’t get your hopes up, Ma. We’d identified most of these girls before, and the trails were too cold to follow.”

  “But not this cop’s daughter. You’re going to help find her, regardless?”

  Cam nodded. “Yes, Shannon’s the best lead we’ve got.”

  “Then what are you still doing here?”

  “I wanted you to know that I—” He looked over at Nic, then back to his mother. “That we are doing everything we can.”

  She patted his hand, much like Mary used to do Nic when he was being obtuse. “I always know that.”

  Cam hung his head. “I didn’t that day.”

  It was everything Nic could do not to reach out to him.

  Edye had the right words, though. “But you have, son, every day since, including now, even though your brothers don’t want you to.”

  Unconditional maternal love and belief; it would kill Boston to lose her.

  “You want me to,” Cam said. “I need to. And they need to know too.”

  She smiled and ruffled his hair. “You always were the smartest one.”

  Nic rolled his eyes, dramatically. “Please don’t encourage him.”

  Cam chuckled, and it was a good, much-missed sound. “And you,” Cam said to him with a smile, “don’t tell my brothers she said that.”

  Nic grinned back at him. “My lips are sealed.”

  He didn’t miss the double play of the words, dark eyes flaring.

  Edye had his back too. “I like him.”

  Cam rose, bending over to kiss her head. “Don’t encourage him either.”

  She smirked, splitting a look between them. “This is going to be fun.”

  * * *

  By the time they left Tufts Medical and navigated midday traffic over to the Family Justice Center, Jamie was waiting out front for them. Cam had hoped to talk to Nic on the drive over—talk, apologize, fuck he didn’t know what—but Nic had spent half the drive on the phone with the Boston US Attorney and the other half with an attorney from his office in San Francisco, making sure a motion on Friday was covered. Cam didn’t want to interrupt, seeing as all those arrangements were for him, but he also didn’t like the wall Nic had thrown up between them. Granted Cam had laid the foundation, and Nic was only following his lead, but this was not what he’d intended to build together.

  “Nic,” Jamie greeted him, hand outstretched. “Thanks for getting here so fast.”

  “Was happy to help,” Nic replied.

  “We officially get jurisdiction?”

  “I sure as fuck hope so,” came another voice from down the street. “Otherwise, I’m in the wrong damn place.”

  Smiling, Cam turned toward the New York accent that was even thicker than his Boston one. Born and raised in the Big City, diehard Yankees fan Matthew Kim had somehow landed in Red Sox country after Academy. Cam couldn’t have gotten luckier in the rookie partner draw.

  “Matty-K,” he said, arms spread wide.

  His old partner walked into them, giving him a back-slapping bro-hug. “You know, you’re the only one who calls me by that fucking nickname. It’s been such a peaceful year without it.”

  “Couldn’t let you forget it.”

  “I heard about your mom,” Matt said, smile dimming. “You wouldn’t rather be at the hospital?”

  “Climbing the walls while she has another surgery?” Cam shook his head. “No, and I’m doing what she asked.”

  “Need the distraction, I get that.” He clapped his shoulder before turning to Jamie. “Whiskey, I heard you bagged a hot-as-hell Irishman.”

  Jamie side-eyed Cam, who shrugged. “Hey, you said it.”

  “Whole city full,” Matt teased, waving his arms around, “and you had to go to San Francisco to get one.”

  “I got the right one,” Jamie said. “That’s all that matters.”

  Matt cringed dramatically, like he was smelling something foul. “Oh, God, he’s a lovesick fool. Keep him away!”

  Cam laughed. “You have no idea.” As if to cover his own current state of foolishness, he turned to Nic, introducing him formally. “Matthew Kim, this is AUSA Dominic
Price.”

  The two men shook hands. “You overseeing this for DOJ?” Matt asked.

  Nic nodded. “I am now.”

  “We work together in San Francisco,” Cam said. Nic didn’t flinch but Cam saw that telltale lift of his broad shoulders. Cam talked over it, continuing to ignore his own foolishness. “The SAC filled you in?”

  “She did,” Matt said. “And now that we’re official, I can speak freely.” Leading them to one of the picnic tables in the station courtyard, Matt switched from jovial bro to the impeccable agent who’d always had Cam’s back. “We know why Officer Murphy wants to keep this quiet.” He pulled a file out of his messenger bag and dropped it on the table. “It’s not just the daughter who’s into some shit. He’s knee-deep in it too.”

  “Trying to protect her?” Nic asked.

  “She’s a street dealer for Koehler.” One of the local thugs Cam knew all too well. “He’s been using it as leverage against her dad,” Matt said. “Favors from the BPD. Looking the other way when shipments go missing and such.”

  “That’s a tougher sell to DOJ,” Nic said. Cam didn’t do a good job of hiding the frustration on his face. Seeing it, Nic hastened to add, “I’ll do what I can to sell it, but Murphy’s law enforcement. He knows better. It’ll go smoother if he cooperates.”

  “He hasn’t so far,” Jamie weighed in.

  Matt eyed the bulging folder in the middle of the table. “We’ve got enough there to make that happen.”

  Cam’s phone vibrated with an incoming text from Di. “We better make it happen soon,” he said, looking back up at the group. “Murphy just got a ransom demand.”

  “Let’s do this, then.” Matt grabbed his file, standing with a grin. “Just like old times.” He elbowed Jamie in the side. “You still aren’t official.”

  Jamie shrugged, explaining to Nic, “I may have consulted a bit when I was at MIT.”

  Nic rolled his eyes, chuckling. “I would have never guessed.”