Makayla leaned toward him. “You didn’t have to change your order. What are you doing? I’m not that weak!”
“I didn’t say you were.” Then he leaned forward. He could see the beauty in her clear, dark eyes. “I’m glad I ran into you.”
“You can drink around me, Chief,” Makayla continued. “That’s why I can sit in a bar and not be intimidated. I’m not that weak.”
“I heard you the first time. Did you hear me? I said I’m glad I ran into you tonight.”
Makayla realized the control freak in her was not going to control this man. If her toughness was a ten, his was a hundred. “So is this how you spend your Friday nights? Trolling bars?”
Brent smiled. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“To answer your question,” Makayla said, turning serious, “I came to this bar with Eddie Rivers because I needed to get a feel for your family. You and he are friends. I thought he could give me some insight.”
Brent leaned back. “Insight into my family?”
“That’s right. He’s given me all the case files I need, and I appreciate that, but I need to know what I’m up against.”
“You aren’t up against my family.”
“That’s not what I’ve been hearing. I’ve only been in town a week, but I’ve been given an earful about that family of yours.”
“Such as?”
“For one thing, most of the people I spoke to thought your grandfather were dead. Most thought he died in prison years ago.”
Brent nodded. “They thought it because my father never tried to disabuse them of that thought. He didn’t lie about it, he just didn’t discuss it.”
“Neither do you or your brothers discuss your grandfather. From what I’ve heard.”
Brent nodded. “He was a non-factor in our lives. My father saw to that.”
“But not in your aunt’s life,” Makayla said.
Brent looked at her. “What do you know about my aunt?”
“I know her name is Jacqueline Sinatra but everybody calls her Sprig. I know she used to visit your grandfather regularly in prison when he was first convicted. I know she didn’t testify against him. I know she still blames your father for his incarceration to begin with.”
“It’s crazy, I know.” But then Brent exhaled. “But it’s typical Aunt Sprig.”
“I know that much about her,” Makayla said, “because she got in touch with me.”
This surprised Brent. “She contacted you?”
“She did. She says she wants to testify on her father’s behalf.”
Brent stared at her. She was an ethical woman too, at least that was what he gauged about her during her time around the police station. She was collecting files and talking to older cops who were on the force all those years ago, and she seemed ethical and above board to him, as if she was seeking the truth just like she said. “What did you tell her?” he asked.
“I told her no thanks,” Makayla said.
Brent nodded. “Good.”
“She’s a drunk,” Makayla said. “That’s the reason.”
But it was not that simple to Brent. He always became defensive when people dismissed his aunt’s condition as if it was easily acquired and could be easily released. “You witness your father killing your mother,” he said. “You get away from the hell that is your childhood home, but marry a man like Benny Gabrini, a man who beat the crap out of you and turned your own children against you. You’d be a drunk too.”
“I didn’t mean any disrespect,” Makayla said. “It takes one to know one, that’s why I know she wouldn’t be a reliable person to put on anybody’s stand. That’s the only reason I’m not interested in her as a witness. Same reason why I’m not attempting to go to Philadelphia to speak with your Uncle Mick.”
“I don’t know my Uncle Mick like that. My father kept him away from us and we have no relationship whatsoever. But I never heard tell of him being any alcoholic.”
“He’s not an alcoholic,” Makayla said, “but he’s a reputed mob boss, as I would imagine you’ve heard.”
“I don’t have any contact with the man. He has nothing to do with me, and that’s fine by me.”
“What about the family your aunt married into?” Makayla asked. “What about the Gabrinis? Does he have anything to do with them? They have mob connections too.”
“He can’t stand the Gabrinis is what I’ve heard. My dad once said Uncle Mick wouldn’t help a Gabrini across the street. It’s some old shit I don’t know shit about. My dad talks to Uncle Mick every now and then I think, so he may know, but I know this: Mick Sinatra cast his lot with the mob and cut all ties with everybody else. The mob is his family now. At least that’s how my dad sees it.”
“That’s how I’m seeing it too,” Makayla said, nodding. “He would be of zero use to our investigation going forward.”
Brent considered her. “So what’s the game plan? Why would you need to talk with anybody about anything? Why wouldn’t you just go before the judge and tell him that releasing that man is a lousy idea and the state is against it. It’s your job to make sure Luke Sinatra stays locked up, right?”
“Wrong,” Makayla said. “It’s my job to make sure the truth comes out and fairness prevails. Whatever turn that takes. That’s my job.”
“As commissioned by who?” Brent asked. “The governor?”
“Through my boss, his attorney general, yes,” Makayla responded.
Brent remembered something. “That’s right,” he said. “You work for Neal Grassley, our state’s attorney general. But I thought he took that job in the Obama administration. I thought they appointed him assistant AG.”
“Only rumors at this point,” Makayla said. “Nothing has been announced.”
“So in the meantime?”
“In the meantime, I work. I review all files to determine the extent of the prosecutorial misconduct, and I make my recommendation to my boss, he tells the governor, and then I tell the public in open court.”
“But if Neal Grassley gets appointed assistant AG and goes to D.C., you’re going with him?”
“That’s the plan, yes.”
Brent hated to hear that news for some odd reason. He nodded, as if it was no big deal, but he was sorry to hear it.
Her cell phone began ringing.
“Excuse me,” she said as she reached into her shoulder bag and retrieved her phone. Brent looked at her enticing breasts as the line of her cleavage stood out along the crisscross of her blouse. The lady in red, he thought, and red did wonders for her smooth, brown skin. But something had led her to the bottle, and not that long ago. He wondered if it was guy-related or life-related. Looking at this beautiful, incredibly well-endowed specimen of a woman made him reasonably certain. Guy-related, he thought.
“Sorry about that,” she said as she tossed her phone onto the table. “I was expecting a call.”
“That wasn’t it?” Brent asked.
“That wasn’t it,” she said. She had already let it ring out and go to her Voice Mail.
The waitress returned with Brent’s Coke, took both of their dinner orders, and walked away again. Makayla leaned forward. “The thing is, Chief,” she started, but Brent interrupted her.
“Call me Brent,” he said.
When Makayla had been checking the Caller ID on her phone she could see, from her peripheral vision, how seriously he was checking out her boobs and body. If he thought he was sneaking a peep, he was not real good at sneaking. She knew there was some interest there. But she reminded herself yet again: she didn’t come here to fuck. She came here to work. “The thing is, Chief,” she said in defiance of his request, “I’m appreciative of your cooperation so far. You and Eddie and your staff have provided me with all of the old files I requested, and that’s been helpful. Very helpful. Thank-you. But I need to delve deeper. I need to talk to the best eyewitness we have. Your father. And from all that I’ve been told that task will be easier said than done. Was I informed correctly?”
“It depends,” Brent said. “Do you want to talk about how he can help get his father out, or how he can help keep his father in?”
Makayla leaned back. That was a fair question. “What about both?” she asked.
Brent was already shaking his head. “Not gonna happen.”
“I don’t get it,” she said, genuinely puzzled. “The man did a terrible crime, true that. But he’s served nearly thirty-six years for that crime even still.”
“The man killed my father’s mother, and another human being,” Brent reminded her. “Even still.”
“So are you ordering me to back off of your father?”
“I’m not ordering you to do anything. I don’t have to tell you either. He’ll tell you.”
Makayla nodded. “Yeah, I heard your father was a very brutal, and a very unforgiving person.”
“He’s not brutal, nor is he unforgiving.” Brent hated when people sized up his father based on legend rather than facts. “But he does believe that right is always right, and wrong is always wrong. His father took a life out here. He figures he should at least do Life in there.”
“I also heard,” Makayla went on, “that you’re a lot like your father.”
Because he knew his father, and the heart of the man, Brent actually considered that a compliment. “Thank you,” he said, to her surprise. Then he exhaled. “Now what about you?”
Here we go, Makayla thought. Usually whenever she was dealing with various males in her profession, it was an uncomfortable moment. Many of them, even the married ones, never hesitated to test her resolve. Was she amenable to rolling in the hay with them, or was not she? She never was, especially with the married ones, and was always quick to tell them so. But with Brent it was oddly different. There was a part of her that was pleased by his interest. And it was that part of her that took over. “What about me?” she asked.
“Do you have a husband, or do you have a boyfriend?”
Makayla considered him. “Who says I have either?”
“I do. Husband or boyfriend?”
Makayla smiled. “You aren’t a real good sleuth, Chief. I’m not wearing a ring.”
“Boyfriend then.”
Makayla hesitated. Why not let him believe what he wanted to believe? But for some reason, she didn’t want him to believe that particular untruth. “No,” she said. “No boyfriend.”
“Since when?”
Makayla considered him. “What exactly are you asking me, Chief Sinatra?”
His eyes met her gaze with an undeniable shock of lustfulness. He was interested and he was not hiding it. “I’m asking if you’re available.”
She smiled. “Is that the real reason you’re glad you ran into me?”
He smiled too. “No,” he said, “but it’s as good a reason as any.”
She appreciated his bluntness. She usually was not as direct, her line of work was not conducive to it, but she felt liberated somehow around him. “And if I am available?” she asked.
Brent was not sure about her level of interest. She was interested, he decided, but to what degree, was the question. Was she interested in teasing only like some women he’d met along the way, or the act itself? He wanted the act. “If you’re available,” he said, “I would like to get to know you better.”
She decided to match his boldness and raise the stakes. “In or out of bed?” she asked him.
Brent smiled. He liked her comeback. This was no coquettish little female he was dealing with. “Both,” he responded.
She nodded her head, but he could tell it was not a done deal yet. “Actually,” she said, “I’m on the rebound.”
Brent smiled. “Aren’t we all, sister,” he said, and Makayla laughed.
But after dinner, as he drove her to her house, it was serious business for him. They were two consenting adults. She would soon go back to her life, and he would continue with his. He was interested, she was interested, neither were tied down. Why the hell not?
They walked up to the small door of the small house she was renting. “So how long do you anticipate staying in Jericho?” he asked.
“I’ll be in and out for quite some time.”
“Gathering evidence?” he asked.
“Mainly,” she said. They made it up to her front door. “But also interviewing witnesses that are still around.” She looked at him. “Like your father, for instance. Can you arrange it?”
“You’ll have to take that up with him. He’s not going to be cooperative, I can tell you that.”
She nodded. “We’ll see,” she said. Then she unlocked her door. “Well,” she said. “Thanks for driving me back, Chief. And I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
“I’m going to work with you from here on out,” Brent informed her.
She was pleased by his decision. “Ah,” she said. “No more Sweet Eddie?”
Brent smiled. “No more Sweet Eddie. At least not for now.”
She nodded. “Okay. But he was very helpful.”
“Good.”
Then they stared at each other. Brent had his hands in his pockets and could feel his dick throb just thinking about being with her. “May I come in?” he asked.
Makayla considered him.
“I’m not going to play games,” Brent said. “You know what I want, and I know what I want.”
“And I know my boss didn’t send me here to screw the head of the police department. He sent me here to handle this case.”
Brent moved closer. So much so that he could smell her fresh, perfume scent and that scent alone was making him even more excited. His erection was obvious and, as he moved even closer, was touching her. “Then handle it,” he said to her. “And screw the head of the police department while you’re at it. They aren’t mutually exclusive.”
She wanted to smile, but she was in major horny meltdown too. She was tempted mightily, but she knew it would be the mistake of mistakes. “I don’t think so, Chief,” she said.
Brent didn’t want to hear that. He wanted her so badly it was beginning to ache. “Just because you’re on the rebound?” he asked her.
“I’m on the rebound after a very long relationship. A relationship that ended only a few months ago.” She frowned. “I can’t do another big affair. It’s too soon.”
“Who said anything about a big affair?” Brent asked. There was now no daylight between them as he wrapped his big hands around her small arms. “I’m not asking you to commit to anything at all, Makayla. I’m not feeling that either. I’m only asking for a night.”
Makayla’s black eyes drowned in his pool of green. It was not that she was inexperienced with casual affairs. She’d had a one-night stand more than once in her life. But she’d never felt this strongly about anybody she hit and ran with. Not ever. Which said to her to run but not hit. “Also,” she said as if he had not spoken in the interim, “I have an investigation to conduct. I need to be clear-eyed about this investigation.”
“You can be clear-eyed,” Brent said. And then he smiled. “It’s not your eyes I’m after.”
Makayla had to smile too. “Very funny,” she said as he rubbed his cheek against her cheek. Any second they would be kissing, and she knew it would be over then. Her look turned serious. “But I’m still going to have to decline your offer.” She said this, batted her eyes, and then looked into his. To her shock, she didn’t see disappointment in his eyes, but hurt.
And he backed off. He’d never begged a woman in his life, and he was not starting now.
And Makayla, who never felt any need to explain herself to any man, felt a need to explain to him. “You understand why it wouldn’t be a good idea,” she said. “Don’t you?”
“No,” Brent replied honestly. “But I understand why you would think so.” He looked into her eyes. “Good night, Makayla,” he said, and headed for his truck.
Makayla stood at her door and watched him. She was not disappointed, or even angry that he didn’t seem to appreciate her position. She actually felt
exhilarated in a stay tuned sort of way, as if she knew there would be more to come with that tortured soul, and she was looking forward to it. “Wow,” she said, as she entered her house.
Brent felt some kind of way too as he backed out of her driveway. He was disappointed that he didn’t get his way, but he had a feeling, a very strong feeling, that he would. It was just a matter of time. He smiled as he placed his truck in gear and drove away.
He drove past a blue Honda Accord that was parked across the street. The gentleman inside the Honda took the last of his pictures of Brent driving away. Then he looked at his cell phone video and saw Makayla, inside her home, undressing and preparing to take a bath. He exhaled. Now he had something to work with, he thought.
CHAPTER EIGHT
That same Friday night and Charles was still at the office. It had been a long day. He leaned back in his office chair and listened attentively as Zim Skivy and Victor Owens, his top two negotiators, explained their latest bids.
“So all in all, it looks good,” Zim said.
“No competition?” Charles asked.
“None that’s in any position to match our offers,” Zim said.
“We should easily prevail on all three, boss,” Victor said. “It’s a slam dunk.”
Charles nodded. “Good,” he said. “That’s what I want to hear.”
“Some guys were threatening to bid us up,” Zim said, “but that shit didn’t work because they weren’t sure if we would take the bait. They backed off.”
“I’ve got to be in New York tomorrow,” Charles said, “but let me know as soon as the decision comes down.”
“You still thinking about making a play for that hotel down there?” Zim asked him.
“I’m thinking about it,” Charles said. “My wife isn’t too keen on the idea, and I trust her judgment, but I need to see what I would be getting into before I make a final decision.”
“Mrs. Sinatra runs the Inn, right?” Victor asked.
“Right,” Charles said as his cell phone, that sat on his desk, began ringing. He glanced down at the Caller ID. “She knows what running a hotel involves. And especially running one in a place like the Big Apple.” When Charles saw it was his son Donald, he answered. “What’s up?” he asked and leaned back in his chair.
Big Daddy Sinatra 3: The Best of My Love (The Sinatras of Jericho County) Page 9
