Indebted

by Sharon C. Cooper

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the DA’s golden child.”

  Journey rolled her eyes, not bothering to turn around and acknowledge her coworker, attorney Gabriel Hall. For the most part, she liked the people she worked with, but Gabe could fall off the face of the earth and she’d be the last person to go looking for him.

  “Funny running into you,” he said, now standing alongside her. “Are you here to have lunch with your thug cop? Oops, I mean thug detective. You know, it’s a shame you couldn’t find a brotha to knock boots with, especially in a city loaded with them.”

  Journey turned and glared at him. She didn’t have to ask who he was talking about, but was a little surprised he brought race into the one-sided conversation. A first. For some reason, Gabe had it in his head that she and Laz were sleeping together. He had walked in on them once in her office when they were having a heated conversation, and the bonehead took it as a lover’s spat. He’d been giving her a hard time ever since.

  What was it with this guy? Considering his childish behavior on occasion and some of the nonsense that usually fell from his mouth, she’d often wondered if his wealthy parents had purchased his law degree. Then again, probably not since she’d heard they’d kicked him out of the family for some stunt he’d pulled during college.

  “So what? Nothing to say?” The stupid grin spread across his lips grated on her nerves.

  “What the heck is your problem, Gabe? You clearly have an issue with me since every word out of your mouth lately has been meant to get under my skin. Why is that? Is it because I’m not interested in you?”

  His hand went to his chest and he made a gagging sound as if the thought was ludicrous.

  Journey looked him up and down, exhibiting as much disdain as possible. He was a good-looking man, with honey-brown skin and a nice build, but his funky attitude would be a total turn off had she been interested.

  “Or is it that you’re jealous of me? Do you feel threatened because I’m a better attorney than you are? Or does your poor attitude have anything to do with the fact that I’m the new ADA while you’re barely able to maintain the title of prosecutor?”

  She had recently been awarded the position, and though she was honored to get the promotion, it gave her even more pleasure knowing she had beat out Gabe for the job. He had looked down on her from the moment she stepped into the DA’s office eight years ago. Knowing that he would give his firstborn for the title, it pleased her to taunt him whenever he gave her a hard time.

  His features twisted into an evil scowl and he got in her face. “My merits alone made me the better choice, but I guess if you kiss the boss’s a—”

  “Go to hell. You would’ve been the last person the DA chose.” Now she was angry, her scowl as deep as his. “From what I’ve seen, you’ve had your paralegals doing all of your work. Either one of them would deserve the next ADA job before you.”

  “You win a few big cases lately and suddenly you’re walking around acting as if you’re queen of the office. You ain’t shit, Journey,” he spat. “The sooner you realize that, the better off we’ll all be. The only reason you’ve gotten as far as you have is because the powers that be want to tap that ass.”

  Journey’s jaw dropped open and disbelief engulfed her. There was no love between them, but even when their comments were snarky, they’d always kept their interactions professional. The hatred glowing in his eyes and the disdain in his tone now caught her off guard.

  “Everything all right over here?”

  Journey swung around to find Laz standing behind them. She hadn’t heard him approach, but by the malevolent glare he bore into Gabe, he’d overheard some of their conversation.

  “Just peachy, officer,” Gabe snarled and stomped away.

  Journey’s heart pounded rapidly as her gaze followed Gabe down the hall. It was no secret they didn’t like each other, but his words stung and had her wondering if something else was going on.

  Why would he say something like that if he hadn’t heard it somewhere? Were the men in the office discussing her? Did they feel the same way as Gabe regarding her being awarded the ADA position?

  “You all right?” Laz asked, concern in his eyes as he pushed the down button for the elevator.

  Oh great. She’d been standing in front of the elevator and hadn’t even pushed the button. “I’m fine,” she snapped a little harsher than intended, still trying to shake off Gabe’s words.

  It was as if Laz knew she needed a moment to gather herself. Silence fell between them as they waited for the elevator.

  “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

  “Not really.”

  Again, silence. Seconds ticked by for a moment Journey thought he’d drop the subject, but then he spoke

  “If the jerk is giving you trouble, tell me. I’ll handle him ’cause I really don’t like the shithead.”

  Journey couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face, nor the laugh that bubbled inside her throat. “Yeah, me neither.”

  “Do you still work with that nonprofit agency, Save Our Boys?” he asked, thankfully jumping to a different subject.

  Save Our Boys was an organization she’d been first introduced to by Tony, her ex-boyfriend, who had once benefitted from the program and currently sat on the board of directors. The agency focused on young men from age fourteen to twenty-five who endured some type of violence and abuse or needed guidance in life. It also supported those whose family had been ripped apart by drugs and addiction. Getting the boys off the streets and into programs like apprenticeships, career training, and anything else that gave the kids a shot at having a successful life was a big part of their mission.

  “Yeah, why?” she finally asked.

  “There’s this kid, Scott, who I had an, um…run-in with today. I think he could benefit from their services. Do you have any contact information with you?”

  Journey narrowed her eyes at him, stuck on the word “run-in.” When it came to Laz, that could mean anything and probably nothing good. Instead of questioning him, she dug into her oversized bag and tore a slip of paper from her small notebook. Scribbling a name and number on it, she handed the paper to him.

  “This is their office number, but it might be better for you to take Scott there personally. Most kids don’t go willingly.”

  He nodded and slid the paper into the front pocket of his jeans. “How’s it going with the Turner case?” he asked.

  Laz asking about the Turner case made her think of the other case she’d been debating on telling him about. The one that could possibly land him in jail.

  “We had to let Turner walk.”

  “What?” he ground between gritted teeth and faced her full-on. “What the hell, Journey? That case was solid. There’s no way he should’ve walked.”

  Laz only called her by her first name when no one else was within ear shot. Clearly he had no idea of the affect his presence had on her, the way her body hummed with lust when he stared at her the way he was doing now, otherwise he’d back the hell up. Or risk her grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him in for a searing kiss.

  How could she have a crush on a man—a cop—who pushed the boundaries of justice while alienating his superiors at every turn? The city streets were safer because he was on the force, but he walked a thin line between following the law and being a criminal himself. They might’ve been on the same side of the law, but he went against everything she stood for. She couldn’t condone someone who took justice into his own hands at every turn, often jeopardizing her cases by not following procedure.

  Journey hated being attracted to him. Hated that she longed to be wrapped in his muscular arms. And she hated that she’d give almost anything to taste his lips just once. And more than anything, she wished there was a way to ignore whatever this was between them.

  She didn’t speak until they stepped onto the elevator, and when she did, she kept her voice low knowing there were cameras. “There wasn’t enough
evidence to hold Turner.”

  “Bullshit! That was a clean arrest and you know it. Besides that, two witnesses put him at the scene and his prints were on the weapon.”

  “So were a ton of other prints from people at that party. And as for the witnesses, they recanted and Turner had an alibi; a weak one, but one nonetheless.”

  Laz slapped his palm against the back wall of the elevator. He didn’t speak, but she could almost hear the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out what he’d need to do to get Turner behind bars.

  Turner was a known drug dealer with ties to organized crime. Law enforcement had been trying to nail him for over a year. Laz was the best detective on the force, and relentless when digging for answers. No doubt Turner would eventually screw up and Laz would be there to capitalize on his mistake and finally get this guy once and for all.

  Laz’s passion to get criminals off the street was admirable, but Journey had often wondered what drove him. It wasn’t until recently she’d found out about his girlfriend who had died during his first year as a detective. The details were sketchy, but Journey suspected that the girlfriend’s death fueled the demons pushing Laz.

  Journey studied his profile, taking note of the wisp of gray hair near his temple. He was in his late thirties, early forties, with thick dark hair that curled slightly at his collar. Gone was the short ponytail he used to sport. During a conversation years ago, he’d mentioned his parents were deceased; his father of Greek descent and his mother, Irish. No doubt he was a perfect blending of the best of his parents’ features. The man was exquisite.

  Still leaning against the back wall, Laz turned and searched her eyes. “What else?”

  Her brows dipped. “Excuse me?”

  “What else, Journey? There’s something else on your mind, and I’m not talking about whatever issue is going on with that chump, Hall. When you stepped into the bullpen earlier and you saw me, I could see it in your eyes. Something’s bothering you.”

  All she could do was stare at him. Could he read minds? Debating on whether to give him a heads-up or not weighed heavy on her mind. She owed him. Laz had saved her life a couple of years ago after she’d been attacked by a man on her way to the MARTA station to catch the train home.

  She shuddered as the scene of blood and ripped clothing flashed in her mind, reminding her of how terrified she’d been. But then Laz had come out of nowhere, tackling the man, beating him to within an inch of his life. To this day, she didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened to her if he hadn’t shown up. She would forever be indebted to him.

  Journey quickly diverted her gaze from his even though she knew he couldn’t read minds. He was playing her. Trying to extract information out of her the way he masterfully did with so many of his collars.

  No. This was something she had to keep to herself right now. She’d figure out another way to help him.

  She released a long breath as the elevator doors opened. “There’s nothing else,” she finally said, “but if you find anything on Turner, make sure it’s something my office can use.”

  Laz followed her out of the elevator. “What difference would it make? The guy probably skipped town the moment the cuffs were off.” Laz continued walking with her. When they stepped outside he touched her arm, forcing her to stop. “Why do I feel there’s something else on your mind?”

  “Of course there are other things on my mind, Laz. I have a ton of open cases. I’m tired and I haven’t had a day off in six months.”

  He gazed into her eyes as if searching for a clue. She was a lawyer who rarely backed down, but damn if he didn’t have her squirming inside. It was as if he could see right through her.

  She glanced at her watch, anything to break eye contact with this man who set her body on fire with just a look. What was it about him that made her want to leap into his arms and grind her body against his?

  She shivered at the thought, knowing it was a fantasy that would never come to fruition.

  “Detective, I’d love to stand here while you try to read me, but I have to be in court shortly. Besides, I’m sure you have more bad guys to get off the street.”

  He nodded, but still didn’t look convinced. “All right. I’ll let you go, but I’ll be in touch…soon.”

  Laz strutted back into the building without another word and without a glance back.

  Why did his words feel more like a promise than just a figure of speech?

  “And why did he have to make them sound so darn sexy?” Journey blew out an unsteady breath and shook herself before walking away. “He is off-limits. He is definitely off-limits,” she mumbled to herself.

  Now, if only her words could make her body cooperate.

  Chapter Three

  Hours later, Laz sat at his desk and twirled a pen between his fingers. The heated discussion between Journey and Gabriel Hall bothered him. He’d only caught the tail end of the argument, but he had heard enough to make him want to snatch up Hall and slam his ass against the wall for the things he’d said to her.

  What bugged him more was the conversation he’d had with Journey. Something was bothering her and he had a nagging feeling it had nothing to do with Hall, but everything to do with him. An intense sexual vibe had always existed between them, but today’s energy had nothing to do with his attraction to her.

  Today was different. Journey had been different. There was something she wasn’t telling him.

  Laz glanced up from his desk and watched two guys in suits head to Sergeant Ford’s office. He recognized one of them as an internal affairs investigator. Hell, he should know all of them by now considering the number of times he’d been investigated, especially lately.

  Knowing they were there for him, Laz grabbed his keys from the top of the desk and eased toward the back door. He would answer their fifty million questions, but not today.

  “Not so fast.” Sergeant Ford’s deep baritone stopped Laz in his tracks.

  He cursed under his breath and turned slowly to find one of the suits standing next to Ford, a smug look on the man’s face.

  “Let’s talk, detective. Shall we?” With a dramatic wave of his arm, the guy pointed toward the conference room.

  “Might as well. Let’s just get this over with.”

  *

  Laz slouched in the uncomfortable chair he’d been sitting in for the past hour, nearing the end of his patience. He usually got a thrill out of pissing the higher-ups off, especially if he ended up with the last laugh by proving that he’d made a clean bust. However, these internal affairs investigations were getting old, and a little too frequent for his liking.

  With his union rep sitting next to him, Laz answered one question after another, some more than once, regarding the investigation into a shooting he’d been involved in recently. Henry Gaines, the IA investigator, was relentless, but knowing he had done everything right in the incident, Laz tolerated the questioning. At least for a while.

  When he first followed Gaines into the conference room, he thought the interrogation would center around Scott’s arrest. Granted, that would’ve been a quick turnaround, but if history was any indication, when it came to trying to pin something on him, IA didn’t waste time. Laz could admit to crossing a multitude of lines in regards to Scott. His sergeant had even threated to suspend him…again. But if in the long run Laz’s actions got Scott on the straight and narrow, it would be worth any fallout.

  “So, let’s go over the details again, Detective Dimas,” Gaines said, interrupting Laz’s musings. “Walk me through what happened as you were leaving the restaurant?”

  Fury stabbed Laz in the chest. “What the hell, man? I’ve told you the same shit two times already!”

  “Detective,” the union rep ground out in a warning tone as he narrowed his eyes.

  Laz gritted his teeth, tapping down his anger before surrendering to giving the details yet again.

  “Before my shift started that day, I stopped to pick up lunch. While I was
paying for my order at the deli, I glanced out the window and noticed a couple of guys arguing on the sidewalk.”

  “And then what happened?” Gaines asked as if he wasn’t hearing the story for the third time.

  “When I walked outside, the perp—Corwin—was talking smack to the other guy. I thought maybe it was just a little disagreement, so I hung back until I heard Corwin say, ‘you’re about to find out what happens when you steal from me.’

  “It wasn’t until he pulled a gun from his back waistband that I dropped my bag of food and pulled out my weapon. I identified myself as a police officer and Corwin whirled around. At first he had the gun trained on the man he was arguing with, then he turned it on me.”

  “Go on.”

  Irritation crawled through Laz at the condescending way the IA investigator said go on, as if he was dealing with some Joe-blow witness off the street.

  Laz leaned forward, his forearms on the conference room table more than ready to be done with the questioning. “I told him to drop his weapon. Instead, he fired at me. Had the guy been a better shot, I’d be dead right now. Oh wait, you probably don’t give a damn about that though, huh?”

  “Detective, I don’t need the commentary, just the details of what transpired.”

  Laz sat back in his chair, rubbed his forehead and sighed. “After the punk shot at me, he took off and I gave chase, warning him to stop. He knocked over a few people on the street and I yelled for everyone to get down. Corwin stopped, turned and pointed his gun at me again. I shot him twice and he dropped to the ground.”

  Gaines sighed and tapped his pen against his notepad, eyeing Laz as if he didn’t believe him.

  “So you’re saying that at this point in the incident, the guy ran and then stopped, turned and shot at you again?”

  Laz bolted out of his seat. “I’ve repeated the exact same story three times in the last hour. I’m not sure what type of bullshit you’re trying to drum up, but I’m done.” He headed to the door and didn’t stop until the union rep lunged from his seat and called out to him.