Читать книгу Provocative Passion - AlTonya Washington - Страница 12

Chapter 3

Santigo’s conversation with Linus following their meeting with the architects went on for a while longer and ended with drinks in Linus’s office. Neither man wanted to admit that it was far too early in the day to be breaking the seal on a bottle of bourbon, but Tigo appreciated that Linus understood his trying predicament.

The partners indulged lightly but joyfully until Tigo remembered he had another meeting to attend. Linus was very persuasive, but Tigo admirably refused another round of the fine liquor.

“Carl and Lester are already inside,” Jenny Boyce’s childlike voice chirped out the information when Tigo arrived in the private lobby outside his office.

Tigo checked the platinum timepiece around his wrist. “They been waiting long?” he asked his assistant.

“Not more than five minutes.” Jenny moved from behind her desk to help her boss straighten his tie. “They don’t look so good.” She spoke in a hushed tone.

That was news indeed since the two crew chiefs were known for their comedic wit and easy smiles. As Tigo’s main responsibilities put him in contact with union reps and oftentimes tense negotiations, working with a laid-back duo like Carl and Lester was one of the few joys his job provided.

“Thanks, Jen.” Tigo smoothed down the attractive olive-green tie with its subtle markings and cleared his throat while pushing open the double doors to his office.

“Gentlemen,” he called out to Carl Roche and Lester Bradford. He made his way across the wide expanse of the room to shake hands with the two men, who waited before the gargantuan desk in the rear.

“Coffee? Somethin’ stronger?” Tigo offered.

“Nah, thanks, T.”

It didn’t take much more than those few words from Carl for Tigo to share Jenny’s assessment of the men’s moods. “Is there trouble brewing in the ranks?” he asked.

“This isn’t union business,” Carl said.

“It’s personal,” Lester tacked on.

Tigo shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie. “Talk to me,” he offered in the blunt, inviting and informal manner all Joss Construction employees had come to love about him.

“You remember my boy Kenny?” Lester asked as he, Tigo and Carl took seats.

Tigo smiled, nodding from his perch at the edge of his desk. “How is he?”

“Working.” Lester’s smile hinged between pride and something akin to sorrow. “Last year in high school. He’s working for Greenway Construction.”

“Ugh.” Tigo twisted his face into a playful frown. “Working for the enemy, huh?”

“Hmph, in more ways than one.”

Tigo’s amusement transitioned quickly into agitation. “What’s goin’ on, Les?”

Lester braced his elbows on the knees of his khaki work pants and smoothed a hand back over his dark, balding head. “Some weeks back, Ken went to Carl’s son, Ian, about makin’ some extra money.”

“Right.” Tigo nodded, knowing that Ian Roche was one of their part-time crew members. “We don’t own him, fellas. Ian’s free to work with another company if he wants to.”

“That ain’t the problem, T.” Carl Roche’s face was a bit flushed beneath his honey-toned complexion. “The extra money wasn’t from a construction job, but some...errand, and both the boys are sittin’ downtown right now in a cell on a carjacking charge.”

Tigo blinked—stunned. He knew the kids had taken work to earn extra money for college. To help their parents, both boys had agreed to start school a year later in order for their folks to get better prepared before they were hit with the expense.

“What can I do?” Tigo leaned forward, shifting his gaze between the two men.

The worried fathers traded uncertain looks. “We were hoping you could tell us, T.” Carl Roche sighed.

“The public defenders on the boys’ case are useless.” Lester slumped back in his chair. “Judge says he wants to make an example of ’em.”

“They haven’t been in trouble before, have they?”

The fathers shook their heads in unison.

“So what possessed ’em to do somethin’ so knuckleheaded?”

“The boys swear they didn’t know a damn thing about the truck being stolen,” Lester insisted.

“So how did this go down?” Santigo left his desk and assumed his place behind it. “Did they get pulled?”

Lester nodded. “Cops say it was a routine stop.”

Carl grunted an ill-humored laugh. “Yeah, I guess even in the twenty-first century, two young black men driving around town in the wee hours of the morning still looks suspicious.”

“Cops ran the plates. Truck came up stolen.” Lester massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Hell...” Tigo ran a hand across his cheek while shaking his head. “What do the guys have to say?”

“Claim they were set up or some mess....”

Tigo frowned and looked to Carl for more clarification.

The man shrugged. “It’s all we can get out of ’em right now.”

“We just want our boys out of jail. Judge won’t even budge on it.”

“Who’s the judge?” Tigo frowned at Lester.

The man said something foul below his breath. “Some fool...Oswald Stowe.”

Tigo nodded, assessing the information. “Anything else I need to know? Have the boys given up a reason why they think they were set up?”

Carl let out another grunt. “Took us forever to get that much information out of them.”

“All right then.” Tigo pushed out of the wide gray suede swivel chair. “Don’t you guys worry too much over this. I’ll see what I can do.” He rounded the desk to shake hands with both men and then muttered a curse of regret once the disillusioned fathers had dragged themselves from the office.

* * *

Sophia lingered behind the wheel of the car for a bit longer than she needed to. She had parked in the curving brick drive outside her parents’ home and spent time running shaking hands through her hair once she’d unbound the professional updo she’d worn for the meeting with her superiors that morning.

She hadn’t seen or spoken to her parents since shortly after Waymon Cole’s arrest at the Reed House dinner. Even then, the conversation had been brief. It was long enough to tell Sophia that her mother and father clearly disapproved of the entire situation. More importantly, they disapproved of their daughter’s part in it.

“Oh, Sophie, what the hell are you doing here?” She cast a wary eye at the large brick dwelling nestled behind a fence of tall pine trees. Other than setting yourself up for more parental ridicule, she added silently.

Perhaps a part of her was hoping that news of her pending promotion might soften the Hails’ viewpoint toward her job. After all, she’d be more of a shot-caller than an order-taker, right?

The question strengthened her resolve and provided the necessary motivation for her to leave the car. As she began a search for her house keys on the silver ring she carried, she thought of Santigo.

How would he react when she told him of the promotion? she wondered. When? Sophia slowed her steps. Was she so certain they’d see each other again? Was it even wise to move ahead there? Sophia rolled her eyes, issuing a quiet order to herself to shut up. Wise or not, she missed the man’s touch far too much to deny herself the possibility of enjoying it again.

Sophia gave a quick, decisive toss of her head and moved to unlock the front door. It opened before she could touch it, and Sophia smiled at the unexpected guest who stood on the other side.

Laureen Bradford was obviously caught up in her own thoughts if her jumping at the sound of Sophia’s greeting was any clue.

“Oh!” Laureen gushed. “Sophia, honey, what a nice surprise.”

Sophia bought Laureen Bradford’s surprise; though there was more emotion mixed in than she could pinpoint. It was just as well since Veronica Hail was emerging at the door.

“Sophie, oh, baby, thank God.”

The greeting was a far cry from the one Sophia had expected from her mother.

“Laur, what do you say we run this by Sophia?” Veronica smoothed a hand along the sleeve of the woman’s burgundy floral-print blouse. “If there’s a way, she’ll know.”

Laureen sniffled. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head, which sent a few tufts of her feathered hair into her round, milk-chocolate face. She nodded. “I’ll get the papers from the car. Thank you, Sophie,” she whispered while hurrying past.

“What happened?” Sophia asked her mother as she watched Laureen move down the long brick driveway.

“Her boy Kenny got himself arrested for stealing a car.” Veronica sighed, smoothing five fingers along the tapered edges of her short hair, which accentuated a lovely oval face.

“Arrested?” Sophia cast a reflexive look across her shoulder. “Isn’t he on his way to college?”

“Not if he’s convicted over this.”

Veronica Hail and Laureen Bradford had been friends for years. Laureen’s small yet successful soul food restaurant was a yearly participant at the Reed House dinners. The women had launched a friendship while Laureen was preparing to showcase her cuisine during the first Reed House event.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” Veronica seemed to remember herself and pulled her daughter into a hug. “This is such a good surprise.” She applied a few brisk rubs to Sophia’s back. “It’s chilly out here. Let’s get inside.”

I guess it can wait another day. Sophia decided against sharing her news. She acknowledged that she was being a wimp, but being on the receiving end of parental ridicule was never fun. She was preparing to follow her mother inside when her mobile vibrated. Tigo.

Sophia let the phone shake twice more so as not to appear too eager for the call. Who the hell was she kidding with this stuff?

“Hey, Tig.” She congratulated herself on the coolly delivered greeting.

“I was wondering whether high-powered detectives ever took coffee breaks?”

Stop being a wimp, Sophie, she urged herself silently. “I’m, uh...actually no longer a high-powered detective.”

The silence that followed was lengthy and meaningful.

“You didn’t quit.” His hushed tone was shrouded in disbelief.

Sophia couldn’t tell whether he sounded more hopeful or stunned. “No. They...they actually offered me the chief of detectives post.”

Laughter sounded without hesitation. “That’s great!”

Sophia thought he actually sounded happy.

“To hell with a coffee break—this deserves a real celebration.”

Sophia pressed the phone into the front of her blouse and moved aside to hold the door for Laureen Bradford, who was returning with folders in the crook of one arm.

“Miss Laur, would you tell Mama I’m on my way?” Sophia asked, smiling when the woman nodded. She put the phone back to her ear.

“I really don’t want to make a big deal of it.”

Santigo snorted out a laugh. “Precisely why you’re not in charge of it. What time are you done at the station?”

“Well, I’m not sure—”

“Call me when you are. Go home, get dressed and I’ll be over to get you maybe around seven?”

“Seven sounds good.”

“Sounds good to me, too.”

The connection was severed before Sophia could speak another word. No matter, she could hear her mother calling out to her.

* * *

“And neither of them had prior offenses?” Sophia inquired as she scanned one of the folders Laureen had brought in from her car. The women sat in Veronica Hail’s sunroom; it had been made golden that day by the lamps required due to the overcast skies.

“No.” Laureen Bradford sniffled against the tissue she’d been using to dab at her nose. “No, no, they’re both good boys.”

“Oswald Stowe.” Sophia read the judge’s signature on one of the papers.

Laureen nodded as she sniffled again. “The public defenders told us he was pretty easygoing and that everything should work out since the boys were first offenders. They said it should never have come to this.”

“Making a statement for his public image maybe....” Sophia guessed. She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until she heard Laureen Bradford gasp.

“Oh, Miss Laur, I’m sorry.” Sophia eased an apologetic look toward her mother. Scooting to the edge of the rose-colored armchair she occupied, she reached over to pat the woman’s knee. “I’ll look into it and see what I can do,” she promised.

Laureen blinked, and her teary eyes began to sparkle with hope. “Thank you, baby.”

Sophia nodded again and then left her mother to console her friend.

“Baby girl!”

Sophia heard the familiar call within minutes of leaving the sunroom. Her father was on his way down the corridor toward her.

“How is it in there?” Gerald Hail asked, cocking his head toward the sunroom door.

Sophia cast a forlorn look toward the door, as well. “I don’t know what I can do, but I’m gonna try to help.”

Gerald nodded. “They’ll appreciate it. Your mother’s very worried.”

“I’m sorry I bothered you guys today.”

Squeezing his daughter’s upper arms, Gerald stood back on his long legs and regarded Sophia with a curious stare. “What’s up?” he probed.

“Daddy—”

“What?”

Sophia shifted her weight. “It’s probably not the best time to get into it now.”

“Now you have to tell me.” Gerald folded his arms over his broad chest, causing the jacket of his nylon warm-up suit to rustle. “You know I won’t let up till you tell me.”

Sophia bowed her head, inhaling her breath and courage. “They offered me the job as chief of detectives.”

Gerald let out a “Whoop!” that had his daughter jumping. Moments later, he’d pulled Sophia into a crushing hug and swung her in a semicircle.

“Are you serious?” Sophia couldn’t have hidden her disbelief had she tried.

“Are you?” Gerald countered, pushing back a mahogany curl that clung to Sophia’s cheek. “Do you know how much that job of yours worries us? Now we can rest easier.”

Sophia’s smile was curious. “What are you saying, Dad?”

“Well, hell, as chief you can put your lil’ butt behind a desk instead of out there in the street.”

“Daddy...” Sophia grimaced at her father’s declaration. “I’m still a cop, you know?”

“Sure you are.” Gerald gave Sophia’s chin a playful bump with his fist. “And now you’re a cop who doesn’t have to put her life on the line every day.”

Sophia’s phone picked that moment to vibrate. Gerald squeezed his daughter’s wrist when he saw the mobile’s faceplate glow.

“You get that and we’ll talk later.” Gerald kissed her forehead and then continued his trek down the long hall.

“Hail.” Sophia answered before the call was sent to voice mail. She hadn’t recognized the displayed number and was still rather dumbfounded when the man on the other end of the line began to speak.

“I’m sorry, Mr...?”

“Apologies, Detective.” The man chuckled. “I’m sure you’re running in so many crazy directions right now. Lem Chenowith here. I’ve just been hired as head of your style team. We’d like to schedule some time to meet and get acquainted. What works best with your schedule?”

“Uh...” Sophia was scratching the fine hair smattered along her temple. “Mr. uh—”

“Chenowith,” Lem promptly supplied.

“Mr. Chenowith. Style team?”

“At your service. Now, what’s a good time for us to drop by for a chat?” the man went on, with no thought that what he said was in any way out of the ordinary.

“Mr. Chenowith, I’m sorry but I think you have the wrong number. I—”

“Detective Hail, my team and I have been brought on board by the commissioner’s office. We’ve been hired to keep our new chief of Ds looking her best.”

Sophia stopped in the foyer and leaned against the wall. She pulled the phone away from her ear just briefly before continuing the strange conversation. “Mr. Chenowith—”

“Lem, please.”

“I think there’s been a mistake.” Sophia exchanged scratching the hair at her temple for massaging the bridge of her nose. “The last thing I need is help getting dressed.” She laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“Trust me, Detective, I certainly understand. Most people are very put off by the suggestion that their wardrobe isn’t up to par.”

Sophia bowed her head and gave it a shake.

“But don’t you worry,” Lem continued right along. “You just leave it all to me, and I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m sure I won’t.”

Lem found nothing to criticize in the flat way Sophia voiced the phrase and took her words to mean that all was well.

“We look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Chief.”

“Sure thing.” Sophia gave a mocking two-finger salute. At that point, she was so exasperated that she didn’t care to argue any further. “Mr. Chen—Lem.”

“Very good.”

“Look, Lem, I’m in the middle of something—”

“Yes, yes, of course. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Sophia could only stare at the phone once the connection ended. She felt as if she’d just been through a whirlwind. She was pushing off the wall to head for the front door when Veronica arrived in the foyer.

“Ma—” Sophia found herself pulled into a tight squeeze before she could say anymore.

“Congratulations! Your daddy just told me all about it.” Veronica danced in place after she released her daughter from the embrace.

Sophia could tell from her mother’s elated expression that she was happy for the same reasons as her father. After the dizzying conversation with the head of her new style team, Sophia was in no mood to make an issue of it.

“How’s Miss Laur?” Sophia asked instead.

The glee Veronica showed began to dim. She tugged at the oversize cuffs on the white pin-striped blouse she wore and glanced across her shoulder. “All this hit her and Les out of nowhere. Ken’s such a good boy. Sophia, honey, there has to be some kind of mistake.” She clasped her hands and propped them against her chin. “Hopefully there’s some way the boys can make up for it without going to jail.”

Sophia didn’t bother to tell her mother that the chances of that sort of break were bleak for two black kids.

“Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll look into it. We’ll find a way.” Sophia nodded past the woman’s shoulder. “You keep Miss Laureen calm. If she thinks of anything, she can call me.”

“I will, honey, and you and I should make some time to discuss the celebration party.”

Sophia ceased retrieving keys from her pocket. “Celebration for what?”

“Ha! Your promotion, of course.”

“Ma. No.”

“But, honey—”

“I don’t want to bring a lot of attention to this.”

“If anything deserves to be celebrated, it’s this.” Veronica posted her fists on her slender hips. “After years of putting your life on the line, you’re being rewarded for it. Time to let someone else go into certain death for a change.”

“Is that the time?” Sophia barely glanced at her wristwatch and turned for the door again.

“We need to discuss this, baby. I’m thinking of something intimate. Right here at the house.”

“Mama, I’m in a hurry. I’ve got a lot to do before tonight.”

“Oh?” The last piqued Veronica’s rampant curiosity regarding the private lives of her daughters. “Anything exciting?”

Sophia shrugged, deciding to feed the woman’s interest. “Dinner with Santigo Rodriguez.”

Veronica’s gasp filled the foyer, and glee illuminated her face once more. She was so overjoyed that she could only clasp her hands and press them to her chest.

Sophia took advantage of her mother’s rare bout of speechlessness. “See you later.” She kissed Veronica’s cheek and hurried out the door.

* * *

“Now that is strange.” Detective Sergeant Jofi Eames rubbed the stubble on his jaw and frowned. “Are you sure the guys haven’t passed the man’s bench before?”

“Nah.” Tigo gave a slow shake of his head. “Not so much as a parking ticket between the two of them. These are two of the good ones, Jof.”

Tigo’s meaning was clear, and the detective nodded his understanding. “Could be some kind of election or publicity stunt.” Jofi reared back in his desk chair. “It could put him in a rough spot if he’s seen as a softy on car thieves.”

“Well, they’ll cross that bridge soon enough. Families just want ’em granted bail. They’re no flight risks, Jof, and...” Santigo’s words trailed into silence when he saw Sophia arrive on the floor.

“I’ll take this to mean the discussion’s over?” Jofi smirked at his friend’s captivated expression.

“Sure.” Tigo left the metal chair he’d taken next to Jofi’s desk. “You can take it from here.”

Jofi grinned. “Why, thanks for your vote of confidence.”

Focusing on Jofi, Tigo smirked and moved to shake hands and hug his old friend.

“I’ll call if I make any headway,” Jofi promised as Tigo headed out of the cramped, dank office space.

Tigo found Sophia leaning against her desk and browsing a file. His single knock sent her head lifting, eyes widening at the sight of him.

“Did I get our date wrong?” She quickly pushed to her feet.

Tigo raised his hands. “You’re good—don’t worry. I had other business and thought I’d drop by and congratulate you in person, Lieutenant.”

“Well, are we still going out?” Sophia didn’t care how anxious she sounded.

“Mmm-hmm...” The confirmation trailed off into quiet when he dipped his head to kiss her.

“My walls are glass,” she reminded him, breathless and already curling her fingers around his jacket lapels to bring him closer.

He grinned, the gold flecks in his dark eyes sparkling with devilish intent. “We should give ’em a good show then. Don’t you think?” His tongue was enticing hers into a naughty battle before she had time to respond to his question.

Sophia managed a shaky moan as her tongue tentatively answered the call from his. Her heart thudded, heavy in her chest, the sound reverberating to her ears. Mere moments passed before she was kissing him with sheer lust and need fueling the gesture.

Tigo exercised the cooler head then and tugged on the hem of Sophia’s short-waist blazer to draw her down. “I’ll see you tonight,” he promised, smiling into her lovely dark face while brushing his thumb across her well-kissed mouth. The playfulness returned to his gaze, and he shrugged as if skeptical.

“What?” Sophia knew she sounded dazed and dumbfounded. What the hell... He did that to her.

Tigo expelled an exaggerated sigh and focused on a curl that had found its way down inside her shirt. “We’re on for tonight, unless the hard-core detective gets called away on assignment.”

“Hmph.” She rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you heard? I’m now the hard-core chief of detectives.” She blew an unruly curl from her forehead. “Getting called away on assignment and hurling myself into the lines of fire are now things of the past.” She massaged the middle of her forehead. “At least they would be if my parents could have their way.” Her mounting frustrations cooled to a simmer as if quelled by magic when her gray eyes settled once again on the enticing curve of his mouth. She bit her upper lip, hungry for the pleasure of another kiss.

Santigo was more interested in the Hails’ reaction. “What’d they say?”

“Nothing bad.” Sophia leaned against the desk. “I don’t think they’ve ever been happier with me.”

“Well, isn’t that good?” Tigo sat next to her, nudging her shoulder with his. “It’s better than having them give you grief over it, right?”

“I don’t know. Is that why you seem so thrilled?”

“It is.”

Sophia’s jaw dropped over the easy admission.

Tigo took her parted lips to mean she craved another kiss, which she did. He obliged, but only for a sweet moment. Then, he stood and brushed his nose across hers once, twice...

“Be ready by seven.” His voice was a gruff whisper and then he was gone.

“Oh, boy...” Sophia groaned.