Page 13 of The White Picket Fence

Vito, being a very smart man, put the phone on speaker.

“Who are you talking about, Tino?” Sophie asked.

Tino might blame both her bossiness and nosiness on her pregnancy, but she’d always been like that. He loved her so much.

“My case this morning was my old art teacher from high school.”

“The one who told you that you were good,” Sophie said, her voice softening.

Tino wasn’t surprised that she remembered, even though he’d mentioned Mrs. Johnson only once that he could recall. Sophie had a memory like a steel trap and the softest of hearts.

“She’s the one.” He drew a breath. “Charlotte’s here,” he blurted out. He wouldn’t call her Charlie. Not ever again. He needed to keep her at arm’s length. He needed to protect his heart.

“Oh,” Vito said, a lot of feeling going into the single word. “Tell me you’re not tempted by her. Please tell me this.”

“I’m not,” Tino said. “I promise.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.He’d beensotempted. But he’d held strong. Kept his emotional distance. He sighed silently.Liar.

“Good. When does she go back to wherever she came from?”

“Vito!” Sophie admonished. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“She broke his heart, Soph,” Vito said. “Trampled all over it and then walked away. It took himyearsto get over her. I had to help him pick up the pieces, and it broke my heart, too.”

Tino wanted to deny it, but it was true, at least the heart-trampling part.

“Oh,” Sophie said quietly. “I remember you telling me about her a long time ago. Do I need to threaten her, Tino?”

Tino closed the laundry room door and sank into the leather sofa in his and Gino’s basement man cave. “Not necessary, Sophie, but thank you for the kind offer. Charlotte’s back in Philly permanently.”

“Why?” Vito asked coldly.

“She was hurt. Attacked by a stalker. I don’t know how bad her injuries were, but she was hurt badly enough that she didn’t want to stay in Memphis any longer.”

“Is she worried that the attack on her aunt is connected to her attack?” Sophie asked, always on the ball.

“She is. The guy’s in prison—or he’s supposed to be. I was hoping you could check on it for me. It would settle her mind.”

“I’m taking Sophie to her obstetrician right now. It’ll have to wait until I’m back in the office. Both my assistant and my analyst are out sick, and I’ve put several of my detectives on a string of neighborhood murders so I’m shorthanded right now. Who requested the sketch?”

“Nick Lawrence,” Tino said, naming the head of the unit that investigated major crimes and assaults. “Don’t worry about this. I’ll call Nick.”

“Why didn’t you call him first?” Vito asked.

“I didn’t want to have to explain my background with Charlotte. He’s kind of nosy.”

Vito chuckled. “He is, but he’ll help you. You won’t even need to explain why you’re asking.”

“It’s Nick,” Tino said flatly, and Vito chuckled again.

“I told him last week to stop matchmaking and he said he would.”

“He lied,” Sophie said. “He called me two days ago asking for my help in setting Tino up with a nice woman who’s just relocated from Albuquerque.”

“And you said?” Tino asked, annoyance creeping into his voice. He loved Nick Lawrence like a brother. The man had been Vito’s partner in the Homicide Division for years. But he did not care for the continuous matchmaking.

“I told him that you wouldn’t like me interfering,” Sophie said dutifully.

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