Tempted by the Badge

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Tempted by the Badge Page 11

by Deborah Fletcher Mello


  He smiled. “We guys know better. Most people have been nothing but trouble and we avoid trouble at all costs. Keeping to myself just makes things easier for me,” he said.

  “That sounds like a story waiting to be told.”

  He chuckled softly. “Not really. The men in the Black family just know to avoid drama whenever possible. So we avoid women with drama, friends with drama, strangers with drama, and when we can, family with drama. We never risk bringing scandal and shame upon the Black family name. Ma and Pa Black would bust a blood vessel if we did!”

  “Your parents sound like my parents!”

  “Exactly!”

  “So is that why you’re a private investigator?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You get the drama, get to fix the drama, and then you get to call it business.”

  Mingus gave her another look, pausing to reflect on her comment. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” he finally answered.

  She shrugged, rolling her eyes skyward. “I’m just curious by nature. I’m also discovering that you may be on to something when it comes to drama and trouble.”

  He reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers. “Don’t change who you are, Joanna. I like who you are.”

  She smiled. “I think you’re pretty cool, too, Mingus Black. You just need to smile more. You have the prettiest smile and you’re wasting it scowling all the time!”

  Mingus laughed. “I smile!”

  Laughter was abundant and continued until they reached the North Bissell Street property where Mingus lived. The four-bedroom duplex was located in a prime Lincoln Park neighborhood. The contemporary space featured hardwood floors throughout with coffered ceilings and custom built-ins. Packing boxes were stacked in every corner and the entire space was sparsely decorated. There were stools lined up at the kitchen counter and an oversize recliner in the living room. A massive big-screen television adorned one wall.

  “Did you just move in?” Joanna questioned as she moved slowly through the living areas being nosy.

  Mingus shrugged. “It’s been two years but I’m still unpacking.”

  She shot him a look. Hilarity danced in her eyes as she continued to take it all in. “Two years?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting for Simone and Vaughan. They’ve been threatening to unpack me since I bought the place.”

  “If it’s been two years, I’m thinking they might not be coming,” Joanna said. She giggled softly.

  Mingus gestured for her to follow him to the lower level. Joanna was surprised to find a fully equipped gym in the basement area of the home. There were treadmills, two elliptical machines, an oversize weight machine and a Peloton exercise bike. Free weights were lined on a rack against one wall. There were jump ropes, dumbbells, kettle balls and a punching bag hanging in one corner. It wasn’t at all what Joanna had expected for a home gym, the space feeling like its own national fitness chain.

  “Make yourself at home,” Mingus said. “I need to change my clothes, so I’ll be right back.”

  “Thank you,” Joanna said as she watched him disappear up the stairs. Music suddenly rumbled out of speakers in the ceiling, Mingus having flipped a switch from somewhere on the main level. She stood for a moment, still taking it all in as she assessed her options. She finally selected one of the elliptical machines and climbed aboard. After entering her age and weight, she engaged the unit and began to pedal. Ten minutes later, when Mingus returned, she had begun to perspire, her heartbeat elevated.

  Mingus gave her a slight smile and moved to the weight machine. He began instantly to work on chest presses. Joanna continued to pedal, her arms and legs in sync with the music. When she was finally gasping for air, Mingus had done a full rotation of his upper body and was running on the treadmill.

  She stepped off the machine, her hands clutching her narrow hips as she sucked in air. Her breathing was labored as she struggled to catch her breath. Mingus slowed his pace on the treadmill, his run stalling to a fast walk.

  “You okay over there?” he asked.

  Joanna nodded her head. “I’m good. I’m really good. I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

  He nodded. “If you want to shower, just make yourself comfortable in either of the bathrooms. There are clean towels in the closet in the hallway.”

  “Thank you,” she responded. “I can definitely use a shower.”

  Mingus pushed the stop button on his treadmill. “The master bedroom is on the main level upstairs and there are two other guest bathrooms on the third floor. You are welcome to use whichever one you want.”

  “Thank you,” Joanna said as she moved toward the stairs. Behind her, she heard Mingus resume his run, pushing the treadmill to maximum capacity.

  Curiosity moved her to peek inside the master bedroom, wanting to know where he rested his head at night. A king-size bed occupied most of the space and it hadn’t been made. The pillows and covers were askew and falling to the floor. A family portrait rested on the one nightstand in the room and the dresser was littered with bottles of cologne. The room was painted a pale gray and an abstract painting in shades of black and gray with red accents adorned a wall. The decor was elegant and understated. He was a minimalist, everything simplified, nothing extravagant. She found herself wondering if he was as staid in bed as he was out of it.

  Moving to the living room Joanna gathered her gym bag and purse and headed upstairs to the third level. There were two more bedrooms and two additional bathrooms on the upper floor. Minimal furniture and a multitude of boxes decorated both spaces. But it was the wall in the room that was clearly his office that captured her attention. It was where Mingus found her still staring an hour later when he came upstairs to check on her.

  In the larger of the two bedrooms, Joanna had taken a seat in the center of the floor. She sat focused on the photos and notes Mingus had affixed to the drywall with pushpins and tape. Her legal issues were splayed out in review, a tapestry of half steps and missteps, turns and twists. Seeing it all in the photographic images and his notes written in black marker had her feeling slightly defeated. There was no straight line leading them to the answers they needed. Seeing it in black, white and color made her realize proving her innocence was going to be harder than she had imagined.

  When Mingus found her, she had stopped crying and was still staring, desperate to discover the answers needed to make it all go away. He dropped to the floor by her side, saying nothing; it was clear that in that moment he didn’t have the words to bring her the peace she needed. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Joanna rested her head on his shoulder, allowing herself to settle into the warmth of his body.

  “We will figure it out,” he said softly. “I promise.”

  * * *

  An hour later, after that much-needed shower, Joanna sat at Mingus’s kitchen counter, watching as he stir-fried vegetables and shrimp into a meal for two. She slowly sipped a glass of white wine, now feeling comfortable and completely relaxed. She realized that Mingus’s commitment to her case was all about blind trust, believing that she was telling him the truth despite the evidence that said she wasn’t. He hadn’t jumped to any conclusions about her being a bad person having done bad things. He was trusting his own instincts, even when others were telling him he was wrong. But he didn’t have any answers, either, and was no closer to the truth than when he’d originally taken the case. She appreciated that he was not giving up on her. She needed that more than she had realized.

  For whatever reasons she had thought of the infamous Salem witch trials and the women that were persecuted and sentenced to death. She was feeling similarly attacked; that prompted an interesting conversation between them when she’d mentioned it to Mingus. The conversation had led to a discourse about angels and religion, and then his theory about the afterlife. The serious had transitione
d to the nonsensical and the ease with which they were able to converse had her feeling all kinds of happy. She suddenly realized he was talking to her, pulling her from the thoughts she’d fallen into.

  “Was that a yes?” Mingus was asking, his gaze narrowed. He was staring at her, eyeing her intently.

  “I’m sorry,” Joanna answered, “did you ask me something?”

  “I wanted to know if you needed a refill. I also have beer, juice and milk. Although I don’t think you really want to mix milk and wine.”

  “That’s not true. I have a great recipe for a wine and milk smoothie and it’s pretty good. It’s actually vanilla almond milk, cocoa powder, sweet red wine and a spoonful of sugar.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  “I think I’ll pass,” Mingus said. He set two plates onto the counter and filled both with stir-fry.

  “Don’t knock it until you try it. I’ll have to make it for you one day.”

  “Just don’t warn me first,” he said with a warm chuckle.

  “This smells really good!” she exclaimed as Mingus pushed one of the plates in front of her.

  He grinned. “You say that like you’re surprised.”

  “You have been nothing but surprises,” Joanna responded.

  After checking that he’d turned off the stove, he moved around the counter to sit beside her. He blessed the food, whispering a short prayer over the meal, and then they both began to eat.

  After the first few bites Joanna hummed her appreciation. “Bodyguard, personal trainer, now chef! What else are you good at, Mr. Black?”

  “What’s that saying—‘jack of all trades, master of none’? I’m good at a lot of things!”

  “Why are you still single? What’s wrong with you?”

  Mingus laughed. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “You get right to the point, don’t you?”

  “I figure there’s no point in beating around the bush since we’re such good friends now.”

  He shrugged. “I guess I’ve been waiting for the right woman to say she wants the job.”

  “You do realize you have to let the right woman know the job’s available, don’t you?”

  He laughed again. “I guess waiting for the right woman just took longer than I thought it would.”

  Joanna smiled. “Good thing I got here when I did,” she said, her expression smug.

  Mingus turned to stare, locking gazes with her and holding it for a good moment. He finally nodded his head but said nothing. Amusement danced between them and lingered long into the evening hours. He talked about his family and what it was like to grow up in a house of tree-huggers and do-gooders, with sisters who were bossy and determined and parents who set standards that sometimes felt unsurmountable. She shared stories about her parents and growing up an only child. How her fantasies about other people and other places were fueled by books at the public library and a library card that had been the key to her future.

  At one point, someone’s dance tune pulled them from their seats and they danced from the kitchen to the living room and back, releasing pent-up energy that felt like fireworks exploding. They shared a single pint of Ben & Jerry’s Bourbon Pecan Pie ice cream with two spoons. He swore she took bigger bites and she proclaimed him testy because he had issues with sharing his treats.

  They talked about everything and about nothing, enjoying the process of getting to know one another. For just a little while, neither spoke about the case or the ramifications if she were to be convicted. All she could focus on was him and the something that was clearly growing like a wildfire between them. That something had begun to take on a life of its own, blooming beautifully, tangling abundantly and feeling as they imagined heaven might feel.

  When the dishes were washed and his kitchen cleaned, Mingus stole a quick glance to his wristwatch. “I need to get you home,” he said. “It’s getting late.”

  “Do I have to go?” Joanna asked, the look she gave him teasing.

  Mingus gave her a slight smirk. “Yes, Joanna, you have to go. I have some work I need to get done and you are distraction.”

  “I hope I’m a good distraction?” Her voice dropped an octave, low and seductive, like the sweetest honey was wrapped around her words.

  He smiled. “You have your moments.”

  She blew a soft sigh. “I’m actually surprised your cell phone hasn’t been ringing off the hook. I would have thought they’d be looking for me by now.”

  “They won’t. I called and registered my address with the monitoring company at the police department. They know this is one of the places you’ll need to frequent. They know you’re here.”

  “You think of everything, don’t you?”

  Mingus shrugged. He was still staring at her, the look in his eyes warm and endearing. “Are you okay with that?”

  “As long as I can come back. I can come back, right?”

  “My feelings would be hurt if you didn’t.”

  Chapter 9

  Joanna had wanted him to kiss her. She’d even thought about initiating that first touch herself, but then she’d chickened out. She still stood staring out her front window, wishing he would change his mind about where he was going and turn his car back around. Minutes passed and the street outside remained dark and empty, no sign of anyone, least of all Mingus, returning to indulge her sexual whims.

  A low gust of warm breath blew over her lips as she finally closed the blinds. She checked the door one last time and then she engaged the alarm. For a split second she thought about calling him, but she knew he wouldn’t appreciate the interruption, even if he did want to hear from her.

  Moving through the house, she made her way to the master bathroom and began to fill the tub with hot water and her favorite lavender-scented bath beads. She needed to rest but feared sleep would not come easily. Despite the good time, it had been a long day. It had been productive because she and Mingus had managed to steal a few hours of quality time with each other. Unfettered time with no interruptions, no one pulling for their attention. For just a moment she’d felt normal, just a regular girl enjoying time with a boy who seemed to like her back. She hadn’t wanted to go back to being the woman charged with a crime and thought to be a pariah in society.

  She slipped out of her sweats, dropping her clothes to the floor. She slowly eased herself into the tub. Soapy bubbles teased her brown skin and tickled places she wished someone was there to touch. She lay back and savored the sensation of the water lapping against her sweetest spots. Truth be told, it had been a rough week and the simple pleasure of lounging in the bath felt indulgent and deserved.

  She was missing Mingus, and it had barely been an hour since they were last together. An hour since he’d made her laugh and had her wondering what it might be like to feel his body pressed tightly against her own. She found it fascinating that she had never missed any man before Mingus Black. Even in previous relationships she had never minded any distance, remaining objective about the longevity of their entanglements. Never allowing her heart to become embroiled in their experiences because she wasn’t willing to risk her heart on relationships she knew had no chance of lasting. Most had been good guys, decent and honest and only interested in a good time. She’d been singularly focused on her career and hadn’t been ready for anything permanent. It had served them, and her well, relationships with no strings and no expectations.

  Hours later her skin was wrinkled, her body waterlogged. The bottle of wine she’d opened was empty and her bed was finally calling her name. Joanna grabbed a plush towel to dry the dampness from her skin. After slathering her body with cucumber moisturizer, she wrapped a silk scarf around her head, tying it into an oversize back bun. She slipped on a satin nightdress and then slid her body beneath the cool sheets.

  Closing her eyes, she fell back into fantasy, thinking about the man who had com
mitted himself to being her knight in shining armor. She drifted into the sweetest thoughts, whispering Mingus’s name over and over again as she let her hands dance deliciously between her thighs. Her only regret was that Mingus wasn’t there to dance with her.

  * * *

  Mingus couldn’t say so, but he hadn’t wanted to leave Joanna. He had enjoyed their day and hadn’t been ready for their time together to end. She had him completely enamored, feeling like the effort it had taken to grab his attention had been minimal with even less needed to hold it. She was just that good.

  She had flirted, subtly at first, then more boldly. He’d enjoyed every moment, even flirting shamelessly back. He had teased her and had enjoyed the easy back-and-forth banter that had ensued. She’d been fun, and he’d appreciated the levity she brought out in him. Enjoying the time they’d shared made what he now had to do even less desirable because all he could think about was what it might be like to kiss her luscious lips and never stop.

  He’d been parked outside the Boys’ Room for over an hour, tailing after Kyle Rourke and his gal pal Alicia “Champagne” Calloway. The first part of his evening found them roaming from storefront to storefront shaking down owners and employees. They worked low-income neighborhoods and proprietors of family-owned businesses. Twice he’d watched as Alicia and another young woman had visited some no-tell motel off Stony Island Avenue on the South Side. Kyle had waited in the parking lot for them to finish their business and return. Prostitution was a booming business for a pimp who had no skin in the game.

  Men like Rourke gave the male sex a bad name. He was a parasite that exploited women for his own personal gain, caring nothing about the ramifications of his actions. He was one of dozens and Mingus, like the rest of his family, worked hard to get the lot of them off the streets.

  He suddenly sat upright, watching as Rourke and the dancer exited the nightclub and returned to their car. She was angry about something, her body language saying she was ready for a fight. Rourke didn’t seem fazed by the tantrum she was throwing, turning once to shout back. She said something that clearly struck a nerve and he rushed at her, his arm raised as if he intended to strike. But she held her ground and braced for the impact, never once flinching. The glare across her face made Mingus think that if Rourke threw a punch, he needed to be ready because Alicia fully intended to throw a punch back.

 

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