“Damn.” Santigo closed his eyes and raked both hands through the silky coal-colored waves crowning his head. “Line, man, help me out. What’s the word I’m lookin’ for?”
“Convenient,” Linus supplied, idly scanning the copy of Architectural Digest he’d grabbed from an end table.
“That’s it.” Tigo snapped his fingers.
Eli grimaced, but it was all in fun. “I’m thinking of a word, too.” He shut the folder he’d been attempting to browse. “Maybe two words—peaceful and quiet.”
“Ah, man.” Tigo threw up a lazy wave. “Don’t get upset because you can’t admit you’re using business to fulfill your pleasure.”
Elias tried to appear exasperated but only broke down in amusement. Soon all three men were enjoying a hearty round of laughter.
“Seriously, El.” Linus stood once the largest portion of laughter had been spent. “You and Clarissa, it’s a good look.” He slanted his friend a wink.
Elias reciprocated with a nod. “Doesn’t feel half-bad, either,” he confessed.
Linus walked over to shake hands with Eli, and then he took his suit coat from the back of the armchair he’d occupied and left the office.
Tigo left his place on the sofa and strolled the room to claim a new spot on the edge of Elias’s desk. “He’s right,” Tigo said.
Elias gave his friend the benefit of a quick and knowing smile before resuming his scan of the folder’s contents. “Think you’re in line for the same?”
“Huh?” Tigo’s hand stilled on the paperweight on the desk. He laughed abruptly at the look Elias sent his way.
“Don’t even try it.” Eli closed the folder and picked up another. “We all know you’ve seen Sophia. Even Clari could tell there was something up when she saw the way you were drooling over her when they had lunch that day.”
“Ain’t that cute? You and Clarissa already exchanging scoops about mutual friends. This is serious.” Tigo bounced the weight in his palm.
“All right, all right.” Elias laughed. “Keep your secrets.”
A few moments passed with only the sound of Eli sorting through folders dotting the silence.
“I want her back.” Santigo eased the chrome paperweight back to its stand on the desk. “I don’t plan to let her walk away from me again.”
“Hmm...let her walk away. Don’t you mean you don’t plan to tell her to walk away?”
“Don’t start, El,” Tigo warned through a clenched jaw.
Elias kept his gaze on the open folder. “This won’t work if you can’t be honest about why it didn’t work out in the first place.” He looked at Santigo. “You’re gonna have to own up to the ultimatum you gave her. You can best believe she hasn’t forgotten it. And last I heard, she was still a cop.”
“Right.” Tigo acknowledged the fact in a deep voice as tight as his clenched jaw.
“And that still bothers you,” Eli guessed. He took his suit coat from the rack in the corner.
“So what? It bothers me.” Tigo jerked his shirt cuffs with more force than was needed. “It doesn’t mean I can’t have her.”
“No...it doesn’t mean that.” Eli slipped an arm into the amber-colored jacket. “But if it bothers you the way it did before, you should ready yourself for the sight of her walking away from you again.” Elias finished donning the coat and grabbed the folders he’d been studying. He paused to pat Santigo’s cheek before making his way out of the office.
* * *
“All right, now we’re on the right track. This is evidence.” Paula Starker was speaking to one of her A.D.A.s while nodding enthusiastically at the thick file she browsed. “It’s got gums, but you still need something with teeth... Detective Sophie!” she greeted in the same breath when she looked around.
“Bring me something juicy, Rich,” Paula told the harried-looking young man. She handed him the file and waved him off, grinning at Sophia as the A.D.A. rushed out.
“Something juicy?” Sophia shook her head. “I’ll bet he’s got all kinds of ideas running through his head.”
“Ha! So long as he keeps ’em there, we’re good, Detective Sophie.” Paula tossed a pen on the desk teeming with heavy-bound books, legal pads and folders.
Sophia took a seat on the arm of the tan leather sofa nearby. “You know, I really don’t think your greeting me as Detective Sophie is professional, Pauly.”
“Ahh...” Paula waved off the caution. “Do you really think folks don’t already know we went to school together and were roommates besides?”
Paula Starker was new to her post as D.A. The fact that a woman in her mid-thirties had unseated the former holder of the seat after a ten-year term was almost as startling as the fact that she was a black.
Sophia left the sofa, rubbing chilled hands as she headed for the coffee carafe set out near the liquor shelf in Paula’s office. “It might be an issue if we keep meeting this way. You say Cole wants to deal?”
“Says he’s got deal-worthy information. Funny how an arraignment not going your way will do that. Judge denied bail.” She shrugged. “For now.”
Sophia inhaled the coffee’s aroma as she poured it into a large mug. “So what’s this deal-worthy info?”
Paula waved her mug in a silent request for Sophia to provide a refill of the fragrant walnut blend. “He’s being tight-lipped. Understandable. But it doesn’t take a genius to figure what he’s bartering.”
Sophia filled Paula’s mug and returned it. “He wants to name names,” she guessed.
“I’ll say.” Paula took a timid sip of the brew. “Obviously he and Paul Hertz are on the B-list.”
Sophia added cream to her coffee, frowning over Paula’s mention of Paul Hertz, who had submitted his resignation as chief of detectives following his arrest along with several other uniforms who had been tracked by their badge numbers from a ledger belonging to Waymon Cole. The ledger had been discovered by Clarissa David among her late aunt’s belongings.
“We took down a lot of people, Pauly. That’s nothin’ to sneeze at.”
“Cops and a glorified stockbroker.” Paula set aside the coffee as though she’d lost her taste for it. “Do you really believe Cole and Hertz are as far up the food chain as this thing goes?” A measure of confidence faded from the woman’s round, honey-toned face. “If Cole does have something, I can’t make a deal for it. I could kiss off any chance for keeping my job if I did. We’ve gotta find Cole’s goodies without his help.”
Sophia hissed an indecipherable curse. “I just hoped all this was—”
“What? Over?” Paula recrossed her shapely legs beneath her side-split rose-blush skirt. “Guess you thought all the bad guys were behind bars?”
Sophia smiled in spite of herself. “Yeah...naive, I know, and a little anxious, I guess....”
“Anxious, huh?” Paula’s champagne-colored stare sparkled with a bit of wickedness. “Could that have anything to do with a certain half-black, half-Hispanic brotha, initials S.R.?”