by Dave Daren
“I’m glad we understand each other,” Nelson announced with a grim smile as he stepped back and aimed his pointer finger at me like a gun. “See you around, counselor.”
With that, he strode back to his patrol car and slid inside while I ducked back into my Mercedes and let out a sigh of relief.
“What the hell was that about?” Alessia asked as she wrung her hands in her lap. “What did he want?”
“He wanted to scare me away from the corruption story,” I murmured as I put the car into drive and signaled to enter traffic. “Empty threats.”
A few minutes passed as Alessia wrapped a lock of chestnut hair around her finger and fiddled with the radio.
“Are they really empty?” she asked suddenly and looked at the side mirror. “He’s still behind us.”
I looked into the rear view and, sure enough, Officer Nelson’s car still drove along behind us as we headed for Alessia’s apartment. By the time we pulled up twenty minutes later, he was still there, and he slowed to a stop about half a block behind us.
“I’m not leaving you here,” I said as I pressed on the gas to continue past her apartment building. “Not with him outside.”
“Well, thanks for the knight in shining armor thing, but where am I going to go?” Alessia asked. “My parents aren’t awake this late, and my sister’s couch is definitely not happening.”
“My place,” I answered easily. “I’ll take the couch. You can have my bed.”
“Wow, you’re really into this knight thing, huh?” she laughed and shook her head. “Are you sure? I’d hate to take your bed from you.”
“You aren’t taking it,” I assured her with a grin. “I’m offering. It’ll be safer with Officer Dickhead poking around.”
My mind drifted to my new Smith & Wesson Shield 9mm, still sitting in its fancy black case on the top shelf of my closet. I’d finally taken advantage of my license and purchased one, especially since Anthony had insisted on my carrying one, but I hadn’t gotten around to buying a holster or anything. It seemed I might need to change that pretty soon, though I wasn’t sure if having it would have helped or hurt during my little confrontation with Nelson.
At the very least, I’d make sure it was loaded and close by in my apartment.
We pulled into my building’s parking garage, and I watched for the patrol car to enter behind us, but the headlights continued past the opening. Nelson probably realized there were cameras in here, and he didn’t seem to want any evidence of our conversation.
I led Alessia up to my apartment, closed the door, and thumbed the deadbolt shut. I turned to face the ADA, who seemed to have sobered up since our interaction with the dirty cop, and I gestured for her to sit on the couch.
“This wouldn’t be as bad as my sister’s,” she joked when she plopped down and slipped off her heels. “Ohhh, God, that feels better.”
“I never understood why women wear those things,” I laughed. “They can’t be comfortable.”
“Because they make us feel pretty,” she shot back. “And because we have to look pretty to work in a man’s world.”
“You seem to be doing pretty well so far,” I commented.
“Well enough,” Alessia giggled and laid her head back on the couch. “You haven’t said much about your criminal defense work, almost like you’re avoiding it. Now, that wouldn’t have anything to do with being a… what did that cop call it? A Mafia lawyer?”
“You know I can’t discuss my clients,” I scolded her with a smile. “That cop just didn’t want my reporter friend sniffing around.”
“Hunter, I get it,” she said more seriously as she sat up and scooted closer until our faces were only inches apart. “I know what you do, and I know why you don’t want to tell me about it. I work for the DA, for heaven’s sake.”
“Right, well, there’s that.” I ran my hand through my hair and started to turn away so I could find literally anything else to talk about.
“Let me be a little more clear,” she whispered and put her hand on my thigh. “I don’t care.”
I stared into her hooded eyes for a moment before the beautiful ADA pressed her wine-soaked lips against mine.
All the worries about beds and couches and dirty cops were soon forgotten.
Chapter 5
I woke slowly with thoughts of long, bronze legs and an hourglass waist underneath my fingertips, but when I opened my eyes, my bed was empty. I blinked a few times and listened for Alessia to be in the shower or the kitchen, yet no sound reached me.
Panic filled my chest as I remembered our confrontation with Officer Nelson last night, and I tossed the covers back and rolled toward the edge of the mattress when a little yellow paper caught my eye. A sticky note had been carefully placed in the middle of the empty pillow, and Alessia’s tiny block letters filled the square.
Had to run home to get cleaned up for work. Let’s have dinner again soon.
She’d drawn a little heart next to her scrawled A, and the note made me breathe a sigh of relief that she hadn’t been kidnapped or something from right under me, but I was a little disappointed to not catch another glimpse of her naked body. Getting the peek I’d gotten in law school was nothing compared to running my hands and tongue over her bare skin for hours last night.
And now I needed a cold shower.
“Damn,” I muttered as I got up and headed for the bathroom.
By the time I’d toweled off and pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt, I could hear my phone buzz on the table in the living room. I scanned my notifications and swiped through my junk email. Then I read a text from Brenda asking how my lead had gone.
We need to dig more into Chatel and Webber. Let me know what you find.
A few seconds later, the reporter sent a thumbs up, and I moved on to check my message from Anthony.
Call me when you’re up.
It felt a little ominous, and I hoped nothing had gone wrong with his father. I dialed my client’s number and waited for him to pick up.
“You’re okay,” Anthony said with a hint of relief.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I wondered. “Did something happen?”
“You got pulled over,” he replied sternly. “And you didn’t call me after you found a new source.”
“Wait, how did you know about me getting pulled over?” I asked.
“I’m not an idiot, Hunter,” Anthony huffed, and I could practically hear his eyes roll. “You have a bodyguard, whether you like it or not. He stays far enough away that other people don’t notice him, but he’s always close enough to intervene when necessary.”
“And you’ve never felt the need to mention this before?” I was a little annoyed at the unknown intrusion.
“Well, if you’d carry that Smith & Wesson, I’d probably spend less time wondering if I’m going to have to hire a new attorney,” my client said with more than a little sarcasm.
“Okay, okay,” I agreed. “I’ll go get a holster today, but I need to let you know everything else I found out right now.”
“Lay it out for me,” he replied.
I explained how I knew Alessia and that she worked for DA Jordan. I relayed everything she’d said about her boss and his connection to the mayor and Chief Flores, as well as how Jordan hadn’t shown much interest in keeping his role as District Attorney.
“It almost sounds like he’s tired of letting Webber and Flores tell him how to run his office, so he’s running for re-election since it’s expected, but he doesn’t really care if he wins or not,” I concluded.
“But if he doesn’t win, then Webber’s guy Chatel wins, right?” Anthony wondered. “And if Webber is endorsing him, he must think Chatel will do things his way.”
“Yep, exactly what I was thinking,” I agreed as I started up my coffee machine. “Chatel in Brooklyn would likely make things worse than they are now.”
“Then we need to make sure Jordan wins,” my client decided. “Should we donate to his campaign?”
“Well, if Jordan wins, the situation won’t improve,” I pointed out. “He’ll continue to get bullied around by Webber, and the guys the mayor wants out of the game will be charged while his Serb buddies go free.”
“There isn’t anyone else running,” Anthony murmured. “You don’t think Jordan has the balls to say no to the mayor?”
“He hasn’t yet,” I answered and poured myself a mug of the steaming hot liquid. “Even when his people don’t follow the mayor’s orders, the evidence magically becomes tainted or witnesses back out.”
“Hence the chief’s involvement.” I could hear Anthony pacing back and forth, and I pictured him in his dad’s study at the Febbo estate. “So, we need a dark horse.”
“To run in the election?” I sipped my coffee as I tried to think of a viable option. “You’d have to be careful who we tap for it. They can’t be seen as a friend of yours, or the optics would be terrible. Webber has kept his nose clean as far as the public is concerned, so he can back whoever he wants.”
“Are you saying I don’t have a clean public image?” the Italian asked with feigned offense. “You were supposed to take care of that.”
“Yeah, I got your charges cleared, but that’s all I got,” I chuckled. “It has to be someone no one could link to you or your dad.”
“I guess that means you’re out of the question,” he snickered. “Or was there some other reason you got pulled over last night?”
“Oh, no, he knew exactly who I was,” I scoffed. “And he thought he could intimidate me into avoiding Brenda’s story. I knew something was up when he didn’t have his body cam turned on.”
“Classic dirty cop,” Anthony muttered. “Wonder who’s paying his Christmas bonus.”
“My guess is Webber,” I replied with a scowl. “He was more worried about the reporter I talked to than the ADA I was with.”
“Maybe they don’t realize she’s caught on,” he mused. “Or they don’t think she’s a threat.”
“What if she ran for DA?” I asked suddenly. “If they don’t think she’s a threat, she could get in the race without them thinking she’s anything more than a young woman with big dreams.”
“You trust her enough for that?” Anthony sounded suspicious.
“I mean, we haven’t kept in close touch since law school,” I hedged as I thought of our very close touching last night. “But she seemed disgusted by Jordan’s lack of a spine and how it tainted the whole office. She didn’t want anything to do with their scandal.”
“But she knew about it?” he pressed.
“Well, she was more disappointed that Jordan was letting anything negative happen,” I clarified. “She didn’t seem to think about it being a big picture problem.”
“That seems a little naïve,” Anthony murmured.
“Maybe a little,” I agreed. “But I think it’s better for her to believe in goodness than to be cynical, at least in the eyes of the voters. They’ll want someone who seems real, not another crap politician.”
“I can see that,” my client said as he considered the idea. “The voters would also like someone who isn’t exposed as being part of a government corruption scandal.”
“If my reporter friend can get her story published during the election, Chatel wouldn’t have a chance,” I agreed. “We just have to make sure she won’t get shut down again.”
“I have a feeling if the right people are exposed, her boss will be happy to get whoever it is off his back,” Anthony pointed out. “As for our future candidate, you don’t think anyone will link the two of you?”
“Maybe so,” I conceded. “But since we went to law school together, we can use that as the reason we know each other.”
“Sounds promising,” he replied. “I still want to vet her.”
“And I still have to talk her into it,” I said before I slurped the last of my coffee. “She said she’d run in a few years but not yet.”
“Well, just lawyer her like you do to me,” Anthony laughed. “I’m sure you can do it.”
“If I do, it will take a lot of work to run a campaign,” I murmured. “I can’t be part of that. Not only would I be completely clueless, but it would be a dead giveaway that I’m in her life regularly.”
“I’ll put someone on that,” he said easily. “We can find someone legit as long as she’s on board, which is now your job.”
“Alright, I’ll talk to her,” I agreed. “Let me see if she’s available for lunch.”
“Let me know,” Anthony declared before he hung up.
“Just lawyer her,” I muttered as I pulled up Alessia’s messages to type a text. “No big deal, like she’s not a lawyer, too.”
Lunch?
I stood up, rinsed out my mug, and set it in the dishwasher before I grabbed my laptop and headed back to the couch. I looked for a sports store near the Brooklyn DA’s office, so maybe I could grab a holster and take Alessia to lunch in one fell swoop. My phone buzzed on the table.
Can’t go far from the office. Panera down the street from me at 11?
See you there.
I tossed my phone onto the couch and finished getting dressed. I had just enough time to drive over and hit a couple of the sporting goods stores I’d found before I had to meet Alessia. I grabbed my pistol from the closet, snagged my phone from the couch, and headed out to my car.
It took a couple tries, but I eventually found a holster that would slide over the top of my jeans and stay hidden inside my waistband. I returned to my car and retrieved the Smith & Wesson from the glovebox. I slipped the handgun into the holster and attached it to my jeans just behind my hip. The cool metal pressed against my skin, and I could feel the weight on my back as I leaned into my seat.
It was an odd feeling, having a life-or-death weapon at my disposal, and it really hadn’t taken much effort to get it once the pile of paperwork was done. I’d still have to get used to it, but Anthony was right. I felt better knowing I was no longer just bringing my fists to a possible gun fight.
I got out of my car and walked toward Panera to meet Alessia. I walked inside and looked around the restaurant, which wasn’t yet teeming with the throngs of suits on their lunch breaks, but I didn’t see the gorgeous ADA. Then the door dinged behind me, and I turned to see her walk in.
Today, she wore a navy dress that clung to her curves and brought out her bright hazel eyes. Her long chestnut hair was tied back into a bun, and her dazzling smile seemed to illuminate the whole restaurant as she grabbed my elbow and directed me toward the counter.
“I’m starving,” Alessia declared and looked over the menu while the polo-garbed employee stood with his mouth halfway open and stared at her. “I’ll take a bowl of the soup of the day and a green tea. Oh, and do you have any of those blueberry muffins left?”
“Uh, yeah, ma’am, um, we do,” the young man stuttered and glanced over at me. “Is that all for you?”
“No, whatever he wants, too,” she replied with a smile as she turned toward me. “You bought last night. I’ll get lunch.”
The kid’s eyes widened as though he couldn’t believe a supermodel-looking woman like Alessia was not only with me but had been with me last night also. I smirked as I rattled off a sandwich and tea for myself. Once she paid for the food, he handed us a number. We got our drinks and sat at a table toward the back of the restaurant just as another employee appeared with our tray of food.
Alessia dug in like she hadn’t eaten in days, and I chuckled as she tore off chunks of the blueberry muffin and stuffed them in her mouth.
“Guess you missed breakfast?” I teased her.
“Well, someone kept me up very late,” she shot back with a smile. “So, I barely had time to get home, shower, and get to the office.”
“How rude of them,” I snickered and took a bite of my sandwich.
“I can’t complain too much,” Alessia replied and gazed at me with a fire in her hazel eyes. “Then he may not want to do it again.”
“Oh, I think he wo
uld,” I exhaled. “He’d be an idiot if he didn’t.”
“A huge idiot,” she agreed with a giggle. “And what is my favorite not-idiot doing today?”
“Running a few errands for some clients,” I said and waved a dismissive hand. “Are you working on anything exciting?”
“Not particularly.” Alessia’s eyes scrutinized me with a knowing stare. “I know you didn’t ask me to lunch to talk about our unexciting days, so what’s up?”
“I can’t just take a beautiful woman to lunch?” I asked innocently.
“No,” she replied and arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “So, tell me what’s really on your mind.”
“Okay, okay,” I chuckled. “I was thinking about our conversation last night at dinner, and I’ll just cut to the chase about my conclusion. You should run for Brooklyn’s District Attorney.”
“We talked about this,” the ADA laughed. “I need some more experience first. Not to mention, the amount of money needed to run a successful campaign is something I do not have.”
“I already have some funding available for you,” I countered. “There are people out there who want you instead of another sketchy politico to be elected.”
“Funding,” she echoed and then furrowed her brow. “I told you I don’t care about who your boss is when it comes to sleeping with you. That did not include getting his dirty money to fund a campaign so he can have who he wants in office.”
“No, first of all, Anthony would never ask you to do him any favors,” I argued. “He isn’t like that, contrary to popular belief. He’s a good guy. And anyway, he just doesn’t want Chatel to win. The funding is from local places that know who you are and want the community changes you’ve already been working on, like your prison reform. They know who you are, and they want you to be in charge, especially now that it looks like Chatel is going to beat Jordan.”
I didn’t like promising something I didn’t have yet, but I had a feeling the community outreach Alessia had already done would give us exactly what we needed to get that funding. Plus, it would give us an insight into who was for a good change and who was supporting the mayor and his schmuck.