On the ride home after the dinner, Drake sat in the darkened back seat of the limo. He hadn’t heard back from Myk on how the covert search of Parker’s home had gone, but he had no doubts they’d gotten in and out successfully. The mission was nothing more than a preliminary search to learn the layout of the place, get a look at the security system, and pinpoint items like safes, computers, and any other items that might be of interest if a legal search needed to be conducted. A few years back, when NIA’s focus had been on bringing down suburban drug importers, the organization had relied on the small group of day workers and gardeners in the NIA ranks for inside info on the interiors and alarm systems of their wealthy employers’ residences. Parker and his wife didn’t employ any full-time or part-time help at their home, so a NIA squad had been dispatched to take a quick look around. Drake hadn’t been sure Parker would be in attendance tonight, but he’d told Myk to expect a call if he showed, and to put the squad on alert.
He hoped they’d uncovered something. Parker needed to be brought to justice, and Wheeler’s family deserved closure.
Drake had just gotten into bed when his phone rang.
Mykal. “How was the dinner?”
“Not bad. How was your adventure?”
“Not bad.”
“Any gold?”
“Some. Not enough to stake a claim, but we might hit the mother lode if we keep digging.”
Drake was pleased. “Good. Kiss Little Mama for me, and I’ll swing by tomorrow after church.”
“Will do.”
Drake set the phone on the nightstand, then drifted off to sleep.
On Monday morning, Lacy drove the rental car to work. Although she’d healed enough to trade in her crutches for a cane, she still had to wear sneakers because her ankle didn’t like real shoes. It also protested every time she pressed down on the accelerator or brake pedal, but she gritted her teeth and drove downtown. Her insurance company had totaled out the Escort, so now all she had to do was wait for their check and go buy a new car.
Janika was at her desk with her computer booted up when Lacy entered the office. “Hey Lacy, how’s the ankle?”
Leaning on the cane, Lacy smiled. “It’s coming along. How was your weekend?”
“Got my nails done,” Janika replied proudly, showing off the hot pink acrylic tips accented with a thin swirl of rhinestone glitter. “Had more baby-daddy drama too.”
Twenty-two-year-old Janika had a four-year-old daughter named Lisa. Samuel Kane was Lisa’s father. Although Lacy had never met the man, Janika’s stories were enough to convince Lacy that Janika’s old high school sweetheart was now a twenty-something jerk. Even though Samuel had made it quite clear he wasn’t going to marry Janika, he didn’t want her seeing anyone else either.
Janika continued tightly, “If my mama would stay out of my business, this might get settled. But no. She has to tell him where I’m going, who I’m with, then his silly behind shows up on my dates and clowns.”
Janika’s mama, Thelma, was crazy about Samuel and always had been. Janika had had many arguments with her mother about the meddling, but Thelma wouldn’t stop.
“So what happened?” Lacy asked.
“He showed up at Lisa’s birthday party Friday night, drunk, loud, and acting stupid, so Rick asked him to leave.”
Rick Stowe, Janika’s new boyfriend, was a city cop. “So did he?”
“No. He wanted to fight.”
“What?”
“Yeah. And as soon as he threw the first punch, Rick took him down. Samuel’s been in jail all weekend.”
“Maybe he’ll learn this time.”
Janika didn’t look convinced. “Rick wants to press charges, and that’s fine with me. I just hope my baby girl doesn’t grow up to have her daddy’s stupid genes.”
Lacy chuckled, then used the cane to help her cross the remaining distance to her office.
Six
When Lacy was first hired, one of the ideas she discussed with the director of Public Works centered around getting the city’s block clubs and neighborhood associations to buy into an Environmental Watch program. In her opinion, the more eyes the city had on the problem, the better. Though citizens were already reporting environmental crimes like illegal dumping, Lacy was convinced that the city could help the residents do more. Pole-mounted cameras had been put up by a previous city administration to monitor areas known for illegal dumping. In the years since—and when the cameras were working—numerous illegalities had been caught on tape, but with the slap-on-the-wrist punishments the city was known to give, the cameras might as well have been filming the new polar bear exhibit at the Detroit Zoo. Lacy wanted to get all the cameras working and to use the tapes to help the magistrates when her proposed Blight Court was ready to go. She also wanted to hand out disposable cameras to the neighborhood groups so that residents could take pictures too.
Unfortunately, there was no extra money in the budget for the disposable cameras, but last week she’d signed a work order for the repairs on the pole cameras, so one out of two wasn’t bad. Having her Blight Court proposal approved was also a victory. Councilman Parker’s visit to her office on Friday still concerned her, though. She had no idea why he was so upset about the implementation of a program that could be beneficial to the city’s health. He’d given every indication that he would be back, and she was not looking forward to it.
After lunch, Lacy and her staff went about preparing the handouts she’d be passing out at the meetings with the block clubs to promote the Environmental Watch program. The first meeting was slated for later in the week at the Northwest Activities Center. Although she’d made numerous calls to the major camera manufacturers, so far not one was willing to donate their disposable products for the campaign. She refused to be discouraged, however. She wondered if the mayor had any ideas, and decided that even if he didn’t, he might like to have that dinner he’d been campaigning to have with her.
She picked up the desk phone and called upstairs. Rhonda Curry answered and sent the call right through.
The mayor came on a heartbeat later. “’Morning, Ms. Green.”
His phone voice was as sexy as it was in person. “Good morning, Mayor Randolph,” she said. “How are you?”
“Better now that I’m talking to you.”
It was an old player line, but he said it as if he’d invented it. He then asked, “How’s the ankle?”
“Healing. I’ve traded the crutches for a cane.”
“You’ll be Ballrooming in no time.”
“I don’t know about all that,” she responded with amusement, “but I’m doing okay.”
“Did you call just so I could hear your sweet voice, or is this business?”
His sensual tone forced Lacy to take a calming breath so she could answer. “Business. I’d like to talk to you about buying cameras for the Environmental Watch program.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“How about talking over dinner?”
“Just the two of us?”
“Yes.”
“When and where?”
“Tomorrow evening. My place.”
He was silent for so long, Lacy asked, “Are you still there?”
“Yeah. You caught me by surprise. Your place?”
“Yes,” she answered, her voice softening. “What time is good for you?”
“I’m free tomorrow evening, so whatever is good for you.”
“Let’s make it seven then.”
“Seven it is.”
For a moment there was a thick silence, as if they both wanted to say more. Lacy finally asked, “Is there anything you’re allergic to?”
“Just bad cooking.”
“Then we should be fine.”
“Can I bring anything?”
“How about some wine?”
“Will do.
“See you then.”
“’Bye baby.”
That last part made her senses ring. Her hand was trembl
ing when she put down the phone.
Up on the mayor’s floor, Rhonda walked into Drake’s office carrying two documents that needed his signature. She found him leaning back in his chair. The broad smile plastered on his face made her stop and ask warily, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“You have that pleased male look on your face.”
“Ah. Lacy’s invited me to dinner.”
“Well now. When?”
“Tomorrow. Seven. Her place.”
“Her place? Whoa. This is moving along.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Well, bring your A game, Mr. Mayor. Ms. Lacy doesn’t impress me as your usual conquest.”
“No, she isn’t, and I think that’s part of the reason I’m attracted to her. I don’t meet many challenging women.”
“You’re right. Most of them start licking your shoes two seconds after giving up their name and number.”
He laughed. “You’re a cold sister.”
“But a truthful one, which is one of the many reasons why you keep me around.”
“If you say so.”
Rhonda got his signature. As she walked out, Drake went back to smiling and thinking about Tuesday evening.
Tuesday evening, Drake looked at his watch. If he didn’t leave his office in the next three minutes, he would be late for his dinner with Lacy, but City Councilwoman Lola Draper kept talking. She didn’t know about his evening plans, and if she did, she wouldn’t have cared. Her only concern was getting him straight on how he ought to be running the city. He’d invited her up to his office over an hour ago, hoping to find some common ground on their differences, but his olive branch wasn’t working, mainly because she wasn’t interested in common ground. Right now, she was telling him why his pick for superintendent wouldn’t fly.
“Denise Shaw is not the person we need for the schools,” she told him haughtily, “and if it comes up for a vote, I’m voting her down. Then I’ll make sure the rest of the council does the same.”
Drake held onto his temper. “And as I said, I’ll take your opinion under advisement. I haven’t decided who’s going to get the job, one way or the other. Now, I really—”
“The last time she had the job, she was rude and—”
“I have another meeting.”
Lola looked at her watch. “I only have a few more things to discuss.”
Rhonda opened the door and stuck her head in. She had Drake’s coat over her arm. “Your car’s waiting, Mayor Randolph.”
Though the interruption had been preplanned, Drake still could have kissed his assistant. “Thanks, Rhonda. Lola, it’s been good talking to you.”
“We’re not done,” she said emphatically. Had she been standing she would have stomped her foot like a spoiled child.
Drake went to the door and took his coat from Rhonda. He then told Lola, “Leave the rest of your concerns with Ms. Curry. I’ll get back to you.”
If anyone wondered why the mayor was running to the elevator, no one asked.
Lacy took one last look around her apartment. Everything was ready: the table was set, the bread was in the oven, she was dressed, and now she just had to wait for him to arrive. She was nervous. She told herself to calm down. Drake might be the mayor but he was still just a man. Right! she corrected herself sarcastically. According to Janika, the man had dated everything from beauty queens to movie stars, and now he seemed to be interested in a skinny, dark-skinned girl who used to wear Coke-bottle glasses. The butterflies in her stomach were flapping in hyperdrive.
The door buzzer blared. Forcing herself to be calm, she went over to the intercom. “Who is it?”
“Me. Drake.”
“Come on up.” She hit the buzzer and took another deep breath.
She opened the door to his firm knock. Seeing him standing there in his gray suit, and with that patented boyish smile on his face, all she could think was how absolutely gorgeous he was. “How are you?” She stepped back to let him in.
“Doing good,” he said, entering. “Smells good in here.”
He gave her the wine.
“Thanks. I’ll take this in the kitchen.”
Once there, Lacy took in yet another breath before sticking the bottle into the ice bucket. Lordy!
“You got furniture?”
“Yep,” she called back. “Needed something for you to sit on if I was having you over for dinner.”
Next thing she knew, he was in the kitchen, standing close enough for her to smell his cologne. His scent was becoming as familiar to her as her own signature scent. Lacy looked up into his eyes and saw both interest and amusement. To give herself something to do besides be overwhelmed, she opened the oven door to check on the twin loaves of French bread.
Drake liked the view. She had on a flirty little black skirt that outlined the tantalizing curve of her sweet behind. The skinny knit top was short-sleeved and had a low scoop neckline. There were two delicate gold chains around her neck, gold hoops in her ears, and matching bangles on her right wrist. When she straightened and closed the door, his eyes were drawn down her shapely body to the black satin slippers on her feet, and then to the brown medical wrap on her right ankle.
“Thanks for the invitation,” Drake told her while admiring her hair and her beautiful ebony face. He found it hard to just stand there politely looking at her when what he wanted to do was find out if her lips were as soft as they appeared.
“You’re welcome.”
“So you’ve been planning to have me over for a while?”
“No, just since Saturday,” Lacy tossed back lightly, “when the furniture was delivered.”
“So much for me being irresistible.”
She laughed. “Bread will be ready in a few. Then we can eat. How about we go sit down?”
“Lead the way.”
As she did, the sway of her skirt teased Drake’s eyes.
He sat on her new couch. “I like this.”
She took a seat on the yellow chair. “Thanks. The place is starting to look like a home instead of just an apartment.”
“Yes it is.”
Silence crept in between them. Lacy kept shooting quick little glances his way, only to find his eyes waiting to meet hers each time. He looked very comfortable sitting on her couch. She, on the other hand, was trying to breathe slowly and not act like the nervous wreck she felt inside.
He said, “So. Here we are.”
“Yep,” Lacy replied, in an effort to sound nonchalant.
Drake sensed her nervousness. In spite of his cool exterior, he was too. He wasn’t sure why, but being here with her made him feel like a sixteen-year-old in a too small suit on his first date. “Can’t remember the last time a date gave me a case of the butterflies.”
Lacy was glad to hear that. “I thought it was just me.”
“No.”
Their smiles met.
“Then, just so you’ll know—I don’t bite. Well, maybe sometimes.”
He cocked his head and studied her.
She smiled serenely.
“Are you flirting with me, Ms. Green?”
“I’m not sure. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date. My flirt game’s kinda rusty.”
“Doesn’t sound rusty to me. In fact,” he said, enjoying her, “I think this is going to be a real interesting evening.”
“I think you might be right.” Lacy had never considered herself a flirt, but he seemed to be opening places in her that released a woman she didn’t really know. “How about some music?”
“Sure.”
She walked over to her small system and looked through her CDs. She could feel his eyes on her every move. She held up one of her favorites. “Boney James?”
“You like jazz?” Drake asked, impressed. He got up and joined her, then checked out her collection. “Beethoven?” he asked, holding up the CD.
“I listen to a little of everything. That’s one of the great things about your fair city, M
ister Mayor.”
“What is?”
“The music. It’s 24/7, and you can get everything from classical to jazz to classic rock, to old school, to techno. I’ve never lived anyplace that jams like Detroit.”
“We are Motown. The more music, the better.”
Then, just like in his conference room, time seemed to slow and they found themselves caught up in the sight, scents, and nearness of each other. Unable to resist, Drake reached out and slowly traced a finger over the dark satiny skin of her cheek.
In response, Lacy’s eyes closed and her inner woman began to quake.
Drake whispered, “How about we get this first one out of the way….”
Lacy didn’t pretend not to know what he was asking. Anticipation filled her. Trembling, she let him kiss her, and she went weak inside. As the warmth rose and the heat of their bodies mingled, she kissed him back, moving her hand up to his clean-shaven cheek. He drew her in closer and the kiss deepened. She thought she’d wanted to keep him at a distance—after all, she’d known him less than two weeks—but she was wrong. No kiss had ever filled her this way. No man had ever held her so tenderly yet possessively. Just when she thought she might drown in the new, rising sensations, he reluctantly and slowly drew away.
Her eyes were closed and her legs were like jelly. “Glad we got that out of the way,” she whispered.
“Me, too.” Now that Drake had the taste of her on his lips, he wanted more.
Her eyes met his. Seeing the humor in her gaze, he decided then and there that if he had to walk through hell in gasoline drawers, this woman was going to be his. “I want to kiss you again.”
Lacy was still trying to recover from the first one. She turned away and began looking at CDs. “We’re supposed to be picking out music.”
He fit himself behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. The warmth of him against her back sent her senses spinning.
“I know,” he confessed against her ear, “but kissing you is far more exciting.”
She turned and looked up. “Are you always so tempting?”