to Joe to inquire about a current gang squad case.
Alyssa leaned in across the table, her brown eyes wide. “You went out on a ledge to keep a new mother from jumping?” She kept her voice low, as if to spare the children from the story, even though they’d just heard it if they’d been paying attention.
“With her baby?” Rachel inched in closer around the high chair between them.
“I don’t think I could have done it without having watched you two excellent mothers.”
The sisters-in-law exchanged puzzled glances. “Us?” Rachel asked. “How did we help?”
“You were pretty fresh in my mind. Those first days and weeks with Nate? Alyssa, all those years ago with the Sam and Gabe? How tired and overwhelmed you both were.”
Alyssa groaned and rolled her eyes skyward. “Oh yeah. Those were tough days.”
“I took one look at her, so incredibly out of place and with a newborn, and knew that was part of the issue. I found out later she’d been suffering from postpartum depression. Her husband just thought she was a little blue, not in serious trouble.”
“Men.” Rachel cast a dark look toward the far end of the table. “Sometimes they’re so clueless.” She affectionately considered her infant son. “I need to teach you how to understand women better.”
“If the husband didn’t understand before, it must be absolutely clear at this point,” Alyssa said. “He could have lost everything.”
“Let me assure you, he has the full picture now,” Gemma said. “Officers responded and arrived shortly after I got her down, but I stayed with her. I didn’t want to leave her until her husband arrived. He was beside himself when he got there.”
“Angry?”
“Not at all. Stunned he’d missed the signs, clearly feeling guilty because of it, and ready to do whatever was needed to keep his family together. Then Children’s Services showed up, because the responding officers called them.”
“Of course, they did.” Rachel reached out blindly to stroke a hand over her son’s head. “Did they take the baby into custody?”
“I’m not sure. When I left, mom and baby were being taken to Bellevue—mom for a psych evaluation and hold, and baby for an examination to make sure she wasn’t harmed in any way. After that, it’s in ACS’s hands, but the father’s in the picture, so I’m hopeful he’ll get to keep the baby under their supervision.” Gemma took another sip of wine. “But enough about Saturday night. Alyssa, how are Gabe and his Little League team doing?”
The meal passed pleasantly as traditional favorites were enjoyed and the wine flowed freely. When dessert was brought out, there was as much hooting and cheering from the adults as from the children.
The excuse was a meal, but the real reason for the day was the brief oasis that allowed them to reconnect at their leisure after too many months of crazy lives, where phone calls and texts stood as their main forms of contact.
When the insistent peal of a phone ringing from the head of the table broke through the merriment, Tony scowled. The scowl deepened when he glanced at the number. “I told them not to call me today unless the president decided to make a surprise visit. If this isn’t a major event, heads are going to roll.”
Joe chuckled. “Which guarantees it’s going to be a scheduling issue. Take your call. We’ll be having seconds of cake. If you’re lucky, we’ll leave you some.”
Gemma watched the exchange with amusement. “Joe, another piece of torta?” she offered loudly, and then laughed when her father jabbed an accusing finger at her as he rose while mouthing “troublemaker.” He pressed the phone to his ear and turned his back to the table.
“You bet.” Joe passed his plate down the table toward her. “Make it a big one.”
Standing, she pulled the cake a little closer and picked up the knife. She was just sliding the knife through layers of chocolate when Mark’s phone rang. She froze, her gaze flicking first to Mark and then to Joe. Together, they turned to look at their father.
Tony stood five feet from the table, turned away from his family, his back ramrod straight and his shoulders locked.
Alarm flickered over Gemma’s nerve endings. Something’s wrong.
She studied Mark, who rose to step back from the table. A patrol sergeant with the Fifth Precinct, Marco Capello was experienced, steadfast and capable, and commanded his men with high expectations, but also with compassion and understanding for how hard it was to be a patrol officer in New York City. If anything was going down in his precinct, he’d be looped in immediately.
She met Joe’s gaze just as his phone rang. She could hear his mouthed expletive as clearly as if he’d spoken it aloud. Whatever was going on, it had a potential or confirmed gang connection if they were calling Joe.
“Gemma?” Alyssa asked the question from across the table as she stayed focused on her husband. “What’s going on?”
Gemma set down the knife. No one was going to be eating cake now. “I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s not good. Alex?”
“I’m in the dark, but I agree—something’s hit the fan.” Alex’s gaze darted from brother to brother. “I can call in and find out.”
Gemma shook her head. “No need. They’ll let us know as soon as they’re—”
Her phone rang. She lunged for it and answered the call. “Capello.”
“I need you down at City Hall now.”
There was no introduction, but she didn’t need one to recognize the clipped voice of Lieutenant Tomás Garcia. “Sir, what happened?”
“Intel is sketchy, but we have a hostage situation.”
“Do you have any details?”
“Almost nothing. Witness statements report multiple hostages and at least one high-capacity weapon.”
Gemma looked at the three other cops around the table, who were all on their feet. “What aren’t you telling me, sir?”
“He may have the goddamned mayor of New York City, Capello. And if he does, he’s going to be the hostage most at risk of a bullet to the back of the head.”
Gemma surged to her own feet and steadied herself with a hand clamped over Alex’s shoulder. She met his eyes as her commander snapped out his final command.
“I’m handpicking the team, and I want you. Get down here now.”
CHAPTER 3
Once they got past the roadblocks, the streets of Lower Manhattan were eerily deserted.
“This is all wrong.” Rachel leaned against the steering wheel, peering out at the deserted sidewalks of Centre Street and the surrounding empty roads. “I’ve never seen it like this, not even at three in the morning. There’s always someone on the streets.”
“They
