“Can I get you something else to eat?” Davis offered as he stood from the table and began to clear away the dishes.
“I’m stuffed,” Neema said as she joined him. She reached for a dish towel to dry the few dishes he had begun to wash by hand, the others placed in the dishwasher. “But that was so good!”
“There’s more pudding if you want it.”
“I do, but I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“How about I wrap it up and you can take it home for later?”
Neema bobbed her head. “I like how you think.”
“I need to make sure you’re thinking about me later.”
Neema laughed. “Thinking about you won’t be a problem. I think about you all the time.” She clamped her lips closed, the words having slipped off her tongue before she could catch them.
Davis smiled. “Well, that makes two of us, because I haven’t been able to get you off my mind, either.”
An awkward silence rose full and abundant between them. Neema folded her dish towel and rested it on the counter. She wasn’t quite sure what to say next, so much spinning through her head.
Davis seemed to read her mind. “Let’s go into the living room and sit,” he said as he clasped her hand beneath his. His palm was warm against the back of her fingers.
Neema followed as he led the way. He sat on the sofa and she settled down next to him. He had turned on his stereo earlier and the soft lull of someone’s jazz played in the background. A fire burned in the fireplace and only one lamp illumed the room. The ambience was seductive and comfortable. For another good hour, they sat and talked, chatting about everything and about nothing. The mood was comfortable and they were both content.
“Did you pass notes in school?” Davis questioned.
Neema laughed. “No. I was a model student.”
“Well, I did.” He reached for the pad of paper and a pen on the coffee table. His expression was smug as he scribbled something across the page. He tore the sheet from the pad, folded it in two and then folded it again. He pretended to look the other way as he slipped the note to Neema.
As she pulled the message into the palm of her hand, he stood abruptly and moved to the front door where Titus stood in want of his attention. He opened the door and Titus ran out into the yard. Davis stepped outside with him. While they were gone, Neema unfolded the piece of paper and read it once, twice, and then a third time. Reaching for the pen, she checked a box and folded it back, laying it on the seat Davis had just vacated.
Minutes later, when the two returned, she met the look Davis was giving her with one of her own, amusement dancing in her eyes.
Retaking his seat beside her, Davis reached for the slip of paper and unfolded it, grinning broadly as he read it out loud. “‘Neema, will you be my girlfriend? Check yes or no.’” A large X marked the yes box. He pumped his fist in the air. Titus barked, his excitement reflecting his master’s.
Neema laughed. “You are too silly!”
“It’s easy to be myself with you, and I try not to take myself too seriously. I’ve also been known to make a complete fool out of myself, so you’ve been warned.”
He took up the notepad and scribbled a second message, folding the paper before passing it to her.
Neema gamely rolled her eyes heavenward as she opened and read it. She lifted her eyes to meet his. Delight shimmered in his gaze as he stared at her curiously. She wanted to laugh and jump with joy, but didn’t, feigning indifference instead. She shrugged.
“Maybe,” she said, her voice dropping an octave.
Davis laughed. “Maybe? That wasn’t an option. You need to check yes or no and then sign it so it’s official.”
“Sign it?”
“Yes, it definitely requires a signature.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said. “Let me read it again.”
Neema sat back against the cushions, pretending to read the note a second time. She tossed him a look then shifted her eyes back to the piece of paper. Finally, she read it out loud. “‘Neema, may I have permission to kiss you Check yes or no.’”
“See,” Davis said, pointing. “There’s no maybe there.”
“But what if I’m not sure, then it will be maybe.”
He shook his head. “You’re sure. You knew the answer before I even asked the question. Yes or no?”
She chuckled. “That’s arrogant of you.”
“I prefer confident. So, yes...or no?”
Neema reached for the pen, ticked a box and passed the sheet of paper back to him. She smiled smugly as she folded her arms over her chest and crossed one leg over the other.
Davis’s bright smile grew brighter as he read it. He refolded the note and slid it onto the coffee table. Then, just like that, he changed the subject.
“Do you want wine?”
Confusion blessed Neema’s face. “Wine?”
“I was going to refill my glass,” he said as he stood, gesturing with the crystal goblet.
“No, thank you,” Neema said.
She watched as he made his way into the kitchen. Titus watched him leave and then suddenly moved to her side, laying his massive head in her lap. She scratched behind his ears. “Your daddy thinks he’s funny,” she murmured softly.
Titus grunted in agreement and Neema leaned to press her forehead to his. “We’re going to be good friends, Titus.”
Davis returned a few short minutes later with a full glass of cabernet sauvignon. He looked like he hesitated a step as he spied her, and his dog, cradled comfortably together. He shook his head. “I can’t turn my back on him for two minutes before he’s trying to steal my girl.” He dropped down onto the other end of the sofa.
“He knows you’re slipping on the job.”
Davis choked, laughing gleefully. “Slipping?”
“What happened to my kiss?”
He was still chuckling. “Oh, it’ll come when the moment’s right. I just needed to secure permission so that when it happens, we’ll have gotten that out the way.”
“Titus just went for it,” she said as she nuzzled her cheek against the dog.
“Titus doesn’t have the finesse I have. But you’ll find that out when the time’s right.”
Neema’s smile pulled full and wide across her face. Before she could respond, Davis’s cell phone rang, vibrating harshly against the tabletop.
He leaned to see who was calling, then apologized. “Sorry,” he said. “I need to take this.” He stood again and moved into the kitchen to take the call. His voice was hushed, and he whispered hurriedly, seemingly thrown off guard by whoever was calling. Minutes passed and Neema sensed the conversation was intense.
When he finally returned, he apologized a second time. “I’m really sorry, but I have to cut our evening short. I need to run to my office.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m not sure. That was Gaia. She said it was urgent and she needed to speak with me. Something has her upset and she sounded scared.”
Neema nodded; a slow, methodic up and down bob of her head.
“I’m so sorry,” Davis repeated. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be.” He hesitated for a minute, something about her expression giving him pause. There was an obvious moment of contemplation as he appeared to ponder the logistics of what he wanted to do and what he needed to do. He continued. “I’d invite you to ride along, but I’m sure Gaia wouldn’t appreciate it. I hope you understand.”
Neema stole a quick glance at her wristwatch. She really did need to stop by the restaurant to help her mother close since her father was out of town visiting a restaurant supplier. She nodded her head. “I do and I wouldn’t want to intrude. It sounds personal, and Gaia might be offended if I just tagged along.”
She stood, brushing her hands down the front of the denim skirt she was wearing
. “Call me later?”
“I will,” Davis said, nodding. “Let me grab your pudding.”
“I definitely don’t want to forget that.”
“Think of me when you savor that first bite.”
She laughed as he grabbed the plastic container off the counter and moved swiftly back to her side. He stepped in close, the nearness of him igniting a wave of heat that was welcome and unexpected. Neema took a deep breath, inhaling his scent wholly into her lungs. He wore Acqua di Giò, and smelled of rosemary, fruity persimmon and warm Indonesian patchouli. It was heavenly, she thought to herself.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I really had a great time.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s plan on doing it again soon,” he said as he brushed his finger against the line of her profile.
His touch sent shivers down the length of her spine.
“I’ll cook for you next time.”
“That’s a deal,” Davis responded.
Neema eased past him, heading to his front door. “Please do call me,” she said, turning back to him. “There’s something I want to tell you.”
“Do you need to talk now?”
She shook her head. “Later. Go support Gaia and we can talk when you have more time.” She gave him a warm hug. “You have a good night.”
As she stepped out of his arms, turning toward the door, Davis called after her.
“Yes?”
He moved close a second time and leaned in to press a damp kiss against her cheek. He let his lips linger on her skin, his breath warm and teasing. His touch was like a whisper of silk gliding against satin and it left her breathless, frozen in place. It took a moment for her to snap out of it. When she did, she whispered goodbye a second time, spun on her heels and scurried out the door.
* * *
Davis had known his dealings with Alexander Balducci would eventually blow up in his face. He hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Gaia knew. He didn’t know how, but she knew. He’d heard it in her voice.
The conversation had been short and abrupt, Gaia demanding he meet with her right then and there. Her request had been cryptic, giving him little to go on. There had been a fury wrapped around her words that only someone who knew her well could have detected and Davis knew her well. His friend had worn her emotions like a shroud and bitterness had fueled her demands. Her jaw had been tight, her teeth clenched together and she had spat her words. He had thought to put her off, to deal with her another time, but then she began to cry. Her tears had tugged hard on his heartstrings and he couldn’t refuse her. He’d had to disappoint Neema instead and that had him feeling like a complete and total jerk. It was not how he had hoped to end what had been a near perfect evening.
As he pulled in front of his South Keeler Avenue office, he noticed the Pentecostal Church of Holiness on the corner was holding service, the number of parked cars on the street almost double. Gaia’s minivan was parked across the street, but she wasn’t sitting inside. He thought it odd but pondered she might have taken a walk. The neighborhood wasn’t necessarily unsafe after dark if you were familiar with the area, and Gaia had been raised two blocks over.
He exited his car and sauntered over to hers just to be sure he hadn’t missed her behind the tinted windows, but the vehicle was empty. He crossed back to the other side of the street, heading toward the front of the building. That there was no light shining from inside gave him pause. He was almost certain he had left a desk lamp on before he’d left for the evening. But maybe he hadn’t, he thought. Maybe he only thought he had. He had been in a rush to get out the door, leaving early to prep for his date with Neema. As he neared the front door, the motion sensors outside should have also turned on, but the entrance way remained pitch black.
Voices chattering across the street drew his attention and he turned to eye two women wishing each other a good night as they hurried to their respective cars. The church service was finished and parishioners were beginning to exit the large brick cathedral on the corner. Turning back, Davis unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing the entrance after himself. He flicked the light switch on the wall, but nothing happened. It must be a fuse, he thought, trying to recall where the master breakers were located. He swore, profanity echoing through the late-night air. Using the flashlight app on his cell phone, he spun around, moving into the office space, and that’s when he spied Gaia’s body lying on the carpeted floor.
The moment felt surreal as Davis rushed to Gaia’s side, calling her name in hope of a response. Despite the volume of blood that pooled on the floor beneath her, he felt for a pulse, ignoring everything that told him his dear friend was gone. Gaia was dead.
Davis fumbled with his cell phone, dropping it to the floor twice as he tried to dial 9-1-1. And that’s when he heard the floorboards creak behind him. As he turned, catching the glimpse of a shadow in the dim light, someone struck him in the back of the head. He dropped to his knees, the room spinning. Then a second blow turned everything black.
CHAPTER 9
It was a perfect storm, a rare combination of circumstances building to one monumental catastrophe, Davis thought. The police had found him passed out on the floor with a weapon in his hand and Gaia’s dead body by his side. A forensics team was now making short work of every square inch of his office and he’d grown weary of answering the multitude of questions being asked repeatedly. His head was pounding, and his heart was splintered. His friend was dead, and it was apparent that he was at the top of the police department’s suspect list.
“So, tell me again, why you asked Ms. Russo to meet you here at your office?” the uniformed police office asked.
Davis blustered a heavy sigh, frustration etched over his face. “I did not ask her to meet me. She asked me to come down here. She said there was something important she needed to discuss with me.”
“And she was inside your office when you arrived?”
“That’s correct. She was lying on the floor when I entered.”
“Did she have a key, Alderman Black?”
Davis shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. I never gave her a key.”
“So how did she gain access to the building?”
“I don’t know. The door was locked when I arrived. I unlocked it.”
“We didn’t find any signs of forced entry.”
“I said I don’t know. I don’t know how she got in. I don’t know who killed her. And I sure as hell don’t know who hit me in the back of the head.” His voice rose, the tension feeling like he might spew if pushed too hard.
“Where did the gun come from?”
“I purchased it legally and it was locked in my desk drawer.”
“And you don’t remember firing the weapon?”
“I didn’t have the gun!”
“But witnesses heard gunshots minutes after you entered the building and we found you with the gun in your hand. How do you explain that?”
“I didn’t fire my weapon.”
The office narrowed her gaze, suspicion dripping from her eyes. “Were you and Ms. Russo in a romantic relationship?”
“I’ve told you multiple times. We were just friends. Now, I’m done. I’ll gladly make a statement at the police department with my attorney present. But right now, I need to have my head looked at.”
“Just a few more—”
“Officer, I’ll take it from here,” Parker Black stated. “Alderman Black has exercised his right to an attorney, and we don’t circumvent the law. Please, have a medic come examine his head, then escort him to the hospital.”
“Yes, sir, Lieutenant!” she responded, tossing Davis one last look before scurrying for the door.
Davis looked up, his brother standing above him. “I don’t need...”
Parker held up a finger, stalling his comment. “I insist. Ellington’s on his way and Dad’s outside
talking with the first officer on site.” He squatted closer to his brother, lowering his voice an octave. “We have to be mindful of how this looks. We don’t want the police department charged with showing favoritism.”
“I didn’t do this,” Davis hissed through clenched teeth.
“We know that. Anyone who knows you knows that. But right now, it doesn’t look good for you.”
“So, what do I do?”
“Don’t say another word until Ellington gets here. Not one word. The press is all over this and we can’t risk any leaks or comments being misconstrued. We can’t risk anything said being used against you. In a few minutes, we’re going to let an ambulance take you out of here. You need to look like a victim, not a criminal.”
“I am a damn victim!” Davis snapped.
Before Parker could respond, an EMS team entered the room, coming to Davis’s side. Parker took a step back, gave his brother a nod and exited. Minutes later, when Davis came out on a stretcher, his father, Mingus, Ellington and Parker were standing at the rear of the ambulance, huddled together in deep conversation.
“You go with your brother,” Jerome ordered, his eyes on Mingus. “Don’t let him out of your sight.”
“I’ll meet them there,” Ellington said, the patriarch giving him a nod of approval.
“This isn’t going to go away quietly,” Parker noted. “It’s already being whispered that we need to recuse ourselves from the investigation and call in the Feds.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Jerome said. “I’m going to assign Lieutenant Caswell to the investigation. He’ll report directly to the mayor, not me. If no one named Black goes near this case, we should be able to keep the FBI out of it.”
“Caswell couldn’t find a murderer if the guy stood on his front porch and announced himself,” Parker muttered. “I don’t want to risk him running with circumstantial evidence and railroading Davis for a crime he didn’t commit. Maybe we should call in the Feds. At least then he’ll have a fighting chance to get to the truth. Whatever that may be.”
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