The Scene 2

by Roxy Sloane

  Armed with my pictures and some internet research, I head over there. Luckily he's at his desk and is willing to see me. He's a large man who towers over me. I assume he played football once. He has that broad-shouldered, solid look to him that would send the opposing team running.

  He holds out his hand and shakes mine with some force. "Detective Halford."

  "Nicole Scott. Thank you for seeing me."

  He nods, and glances at the clock on the wall. I take a deep breath, knowing I only have a few minutes to make my case.

  "What can I do for you, young lady?"

  "My brother, Eli, died here in Miami about eight months ago now, and I believe you were the investigating officer." My voice comes out sounding calmer than I feel, which is a blessing.

  Halford’s face softens. "I'm sorry for your loss. I'm happy to answer questions for you, but the name doesn't sound familiar. You sure I'm the one who worked it?"

  "Whoever called my parents to tell them used your name."

  "Then I'm your man." He smiles at me. It's clear he's trying to be reassuring, but it comes across as strained.

  "Refresh my memory. What were the circumstances?"

  I'm not sure why he can't just look it up on the computer, but I do as I'm told.

  "I remember that one. The car fire. Early morning accident. No witnesses. Probably drunk driving." He sits for a moment tapping his finger on the desk. He’s glancing at the clock again, waiting for me to say something, I guess because there’s not much else to tell me.

  “My family heard he was running drugs,” I say, hating myself for the lie but needing to get whatever additional information this officer might have. “But I’m still not convinced. Do you know if he had an arrest record, anything like that? I just can’t believe he was a criminal.”

  He looks into my eyes a moment, but I keep my gaze steady. I’m ready to hear this. He sighs to himself and then continues.

  “Look, Miss Scott. Your brother was just another gear in the machine. Happens to a lot of good kids, they get mixed up with the wrong people. His record was nothing big, just minor offenses.” Halford shrugs. "His name came up in a few drug files, but he wasn’t a major player. Just another kid working for the cartel. I’m sorry."

  Hearing him say it so matter-of-factly throws me for a moment, and I forget everything I wanted to say. Eli’s death was just another case to these cops; he was just another kid mixed up in drugs. No wonder no one looked more closely into it. My eyes well up with tears.

  "You have some questions, or…" He shuffles some papers on his desk and glances at the clock for the third time, a signal to me to hurry up.

  "Yes, I do. I went out to the crime scene, just to look around, and it doesn't—"

  "Accident site," he interrupts.

  "I'm sorry?"

  "You said crime scene. It was ruled an accident."

  "Of course. But that's why I'm here, actually. I went out there, and the facts don't fit the site. If you'll look at these photos, you'll see it." I spread them out across his desk. "The skid marks don't match up, and the fire damage is minimal but it should have been extensive."

  He stares at me for a moment without looking at the pictures. "You some kind of forensic expert, young lady?"

  "What? Um…no, I just—"

  "You just think you know better than a team of trained Miami police officers?"

  "No, I just wanted to—"

  "Look." He gives me that same forced smile as before. "Your brother made some bad decisions, and it's a tragedy. But this isn't gonna bring him back."

  I keep my chin up and my eyes steady. "But what if it wasn't an accident?"

  "Is there a problem over here?"

  A man who looks almost identical to Halford walks up. The combination of the two of them is intimidating.

  "No problem at all. Just explaining to this young lady why looking for trouble where there is none is a bad idea. You remember that car accident a while back with that kid who worked for the cartel. This is the kid's sister. Thinks she knows better than we do about what happened. Like maybe we don’t got the facts straight." He folds his arms, clears his throat.

  I clench my jaw. Halford’s making it sound like I’m in denial, like I’m grasping at straws. But I know what’s in these pictures is real—it proves that things aren’t what they seem.

  "Yeah, I remember that one." The new officer squats down so he can be on eye level with me. "It's tough losing family, I get what you’re going through. But you gotta accept that you didn't know your brother as well as you think you did. He went down a bad path. I'm sorry for you, but I'm not gonna be sad there's one less dealer on the streets. Best you let this go."

  "Family's important," Halford says. "You should focus on taking care of the family you have left instead of pining over what you've lost. It’d be a real tragedy if something happened to any of them."

  The other officer nods. “You’re not from Miami, right? I think I remember the Scotts being from somewhere up north, small town in Jersey. I bet that’s a nice place to live. Quiet.”

  I shrug. “I guess so.”

  Halford adds, “I’d miss a place like that. Wouldn’t want to be away for too long.”

  Something about the way they are mentioning my family, and my hometown, is threatening. And even though they’re cops, I have that sick feeling in my stomach telling me to get the hell out of there.

  I stand so quickly that Halford's partner does the same and leans in like he's waiting for me to do something. I notice that Halford's hand rests on his gun.

  "Thank you, I won't keep you any longer." I frantically grab the pictures and shove them into my purse. My heart is pounding, and I feel like I can't breathe. I'm afraid if I stay any longer, they'll find some way to keep me here, which is completely irrational and paranoid, but I'm convinced they are purposefully trying to fuck with me. Why else would they act that way?

  #

  I race out of the building and over to my car. It's only when I have the doors locked that I take a deep breath and try to calm myself.

  They definitely threatened me. Normal cops don't act like that. Everything about them was menacing. What if they come after me for looking into Eli's death?

  The deep breaths aren't helping enough, I'm too over-heated, so I turn the air conditioner on full blast. I close my eyes and let the cold air seep into my skin.

  "What am I going to do about Eli?" I say it out loud for whatever reason. Maybe to quiet the voices in my head.

  My phone buzzes, but I ignore it. The need to leave is back again. I feel like I'm being watched, which is probably super paranoid, but there it is. I pull out of the parking lot and head toward home. My nerves have me checking my rearview mirror much more than usual, and I notice a white Honda Civic two cars back. It looks like one that was at the police station, but then again, there are a million Hondas on the road.

  But a few turns later, the Civic is still behind me. It can't be a coincidence. I've taken too many turns since the police station, and the area I'm in now is a residential area. What are the odds that someone at that precinct would be traveling my route? Probably astronomical.

  Or someone's following me.

  I take the next turn, and the Civic turns also. Same with the turn after that. I pull out onto a main road, and the car follows. Even when the car in between us passes me, the Civic remains two car lengths back. Too far for me to see the driver's face because of the tint on the windows.

  If he already knows where I live, then it won't matter what route I take home. But if not, maybe I can lose him. I abruptly turn at the last second onto a side street, then immediately turn again before the Civic can even make the first turn. I make a few more turns, taking me farther away from the Civic, and pull into a grocery store parking lot to wait. The lot is crowded, and I make sure to park along the side of the building where the employees park, in between all the other cars. I can watch anyone coming into the lot, but they won't notice me.

  Aft
er 20 minutes, and three panic attacks at white cars coming into the lot, there's no sign of my pursuer. I take a long route home just in case, but I don't notice anyone following this time.

  When I finally make it to the door, I can't even put the key in. My hands are shaking too badly.

  Chapter Five

  After a long hot shower and a short nap on the couch, I'm finally not shaking anymore and can focus on getting ready for my date with Xavier. Now more than ever I need to know if he’s El Jefe, if he was involved. I’m in too deep now to walk away. He texted earlier saying "Wear something really casual" so I put on jeans, a V-neck t-shirt in soft blue cotton, and a pair of wedge sandals. I have no idea what he has planned, but I’m praying for some real answers. .

  I thought he'd send the car for me, but when I look outside, he's in the driver's seat of the old convertible. That car. Just seeing it again makes my skin flush, the memories of being spread out on the hood rushing back in a flood. I take a deep breath and open the door.

  He's all smiles when I head outside. I'm surprised to see him in jeans and a t-shirt also. I've never seen him wear anything this casual.

  "You look gorgeous." He opens my car door and kisses me on the cheek.

  "I didn't know you even owed jeans," I tease.

  "You think you're pretty funny, don't you."

  "Oh yeah. I should be a comedienne, I'm so funny. But seriously. What's with the jeans and t-shirt? Not that I'm complaining." The truth is, he looks hotter than ever. Especially with the way the dark denim hugs his ass. Not that I was looking.

  "I wanted you to see that I'm a normal guy. I've shown you one side of my life, but I'm not all about that. I enjoy spoiling you, but at heart¸ my tastes are pretty simple."

  "So what does our so-called simple date involve?"

  "You a baseball fan?"

  "Definitely."

  We pull away from the apartment, and I try to relax and listen to Xavier's story about playing golf with one of his business partners. But my mind is on the police station and the white Civic. I'm convinced someone is still following me, and when I see any white car, I hold my breath. When I see an actual white Civic, my body goes tense until it turns a corner away from us. I'm barely paying attention to Xavier, and he realizes it. He’s so in tune with me.

  "You okay?"

  "Huh?" I try to shake off the daze I've been in.

  "You seem tense, and I would've thought I took care of that for you earlier today." He grins, and I can't help but laugh.

  "You did, actually. I'm just a little distracted. Sorry."

  "You don't have to apologize. I just want to make sure you have a good time tonight. Get your mind off anything bothering you."

  "Yes, I promise. Nothing but fun tonight."

  #

  I was expecting the Marlins, but instead, Xavier takes me to the University of Miami to watch the Hurricanes play. We get hot dogs and the park’s famous milkshakes at the concession stand and make our way to our seats, which are good but not great and toward right field. I would have expected the seats to impress. I guess he really is trying to show me how "regular" of a guy he is.

  The sun is just starting to set, lighting up the sky in shades of purple and orange as we wait for the game to start. The shake is cold, and the hot dog is hot and juicy. If the humidity would dial back a bit, it would be the perfect spring night.

  "I love watching sports outdoors, especially at this time of day," I say between bites. "There's something about how the wind kicks up as the sun goes down and the stadium lights come on."

  "Me too. Plus, hot dogs always seem to taste better at the ball park."

  "You're obviously enjoying yours too. Come here." I gesture for him to lean in, and I brush my finger across the edge of his bottom lip. "You had some mustard," I say before sucking on my finger while maintaining his gaze. Now that we’re here, our knees touching in the close seats, all the adrenaline coursing through me throughout the day has left my appetite for sex rivaling my appetite for food.

  "It's going to be very hard to concentrate on the baseball game if you keep doing things like that, Nicole." His lips curl into a sexy smile, and I lean over and kiss him softly before turning my attention back to my hot dog.

  When I finish a bite, I ask, "So, not that I'm complaining, but why college ball instead of pro? The Marlins not in town tonight?"

  "Um, I think they are, actually. But I prefer the 'Canes." He takes a sip of his shake and then continues. "My grandfather used to bring me here when I was a kid. He wanted me to come here for college and play ball."

  "Were you any good?"

  "I might have been." He looks out at the field, obviously remembering something from another visit here. "I played for awhile, but eventually quit. Always loved coming here though."

  A couple of students wait for us to stand so they can head down the row of seats. They’re dressed in orange and green t-shirts and jeans, ready to cheer for Miami. Their laughs trail behind them, and I think about how much I miss home and my parents. I wonder if I’ll move back and then stop the line of thoughts. Not the time or place.

  I distract myself by trying to learn more about Xavier, see if I can dig into his past a little more. I still need answers, and he’s so relaxed right now that it’s the perfect time to get them. "Was it just you and your grandfather who came here? I don't think you've mentioned siblings."

  "Yeah, just us. I don't have any brothers or sisters. My dad died when I was still a teenager, and I had to take care of my mom after that."

  I place my hand on his knee, remembering what he told me at our first dinner date about his dad. It sounded like they’d never seen eye to eye, but now I’m realizing that Xavier’s father never lived to see his son’s success, mend the rift between them, or tell Xavier he was proud. "I'm so sorry, Xavier."

  He nods, getting that faraway look in his eyes that meant he was buried in memories. "My mom worked so hard, but it was never enough after my dad wasn’t around to help out anymore. That’s another reason I stayed on the business track. I felt like I had to be serious and focused, work extra hard so I could put myself through school. Playing baseball was a passion, but it seemed like a dream, something that was fun but wouldn't help my future. So I let it go."

  He fixes his gaze on the lights of the park, and I keep my hand on his knee, trying to comfort and reassure him. Eventually Xavier snaps out of it and looks over at me. "But what about you? The world is still so open to you. What do you want for your future?"

  It’s like he read my mind. I have no idea what I want to do with my future. But how do you say that to someone who is a self-made entrepreneur? Everyone I know has a concrete plan for their career. Even Hailey works a front desk job at Fisher Island to get more experience on her resume so she can move into management later. Being on this campus reminds me that I’m not moving forward at all. Some days I wonder if I’m always going to be drifting through life.

  I sigh, and it's Xavier's turn to put his hand on my knee.

  "I'm sorry, Nicole. I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."

  "Oh, no. It's not that.” I glance up at him, and the kindness in his eyes makes me wonder how I ever could have thought he was capable of awful things. It makes it easier to open up to him and say what I haven’t been able to say to anyone else.

  “I just don't know what I want to do anymore. When my brother died, I put everything on hold, and now the path that I was on doesn't feel like it fits anymore." I take a sip of my shake, but somehow it doesn’t taste as sweet.

  We sit in silence for a moment, and I know Xavier is giving me space to say more if I want to. I’m not sure I can, though. It’s a can of worms that I don’t want to open. Instead, I watch a little girl nearby wave orange and white pompoms while her family claps for her.

  When Xavier speaks, his voice is soft, cautious. "That happens a lot when loved ones die. We start to realize how short life is and how we haven't been taking advantage of it."

  "Yeah,
that's how it feels. I don't know what I want to do, but I know it's not what I've been doing. I thought my time in Miami would bring answers, but it's just brought more questions."

  "Well, there's nothing that says you have to make any big decisions just yet. You only just arrived in Miami. Have some fun, relax a little. You'll figure out the rest when you let it go."

  I think about what he said, and he's right. When you hold too tight to something, nothing seems to happen. Maybe that applies to Eli, too. Maybe if I just let it go, I'll find the answers. Maybe like everything else, I just need to give it some time.

  The noise of the crowd increases as game time draws closer. Xavier seems almost like a kid, eagerly watching the activity on the field as the teams are introduced.

  Once the game starts, Xavier and I turn the conversation to lighter topics like favorite places to travel and favorite foods so we can concentrate on what's happening on the field. He holds my hand with our fingers entwined, and it feels comfortable, right. I'm surprised by how into the game I get, yelling just as loudly as Xavier when the 'Canes score and booing the umpire like the rest of the hometown fans.

  The game is in the bottom of the eighth inning when Xavier's phone rings. He glances at the caller I.D. and frowns.

  He picks up. "I thought I told you not to disturb me tonight."

  He listens for a moment. "You told me you could handle this. Why am I still hearing about it?"

  The person on the other line speaks. I can't hear what he's saying because of the noise around us.

  "The meet is scheduled for tonight. You will have that shipment prepared and delivered, or I'll have you fired. Got it?"

  He listens as the other person speaks. I try not to stress out about the tone of his voice. It’s so different from the way he talks to me or even how he addressed his employees at the office today.