by C. D. Samuda
Quinn didn’t budge. Silently she willed him away, but he remained seated. To add to her agitation, he picked up the menu and started perusing its contents. Without raising his eyes, he spoke again.
“I didn’t get your name.”
When she did not immediately respond, he raised his eyes to hers and they locked for a moment. That feeling was there again as if he was pulling her in.
“It’s Leah … Leah Brooks.” Her voice was clipped. “Now can I have my lunch in peace?”
Quinn fell silent for a minute while she picked up her menu and started pretending to read it. He made no move to leave and it maddened her. How could he think of giving her material possessions as compensation for an act of kindness? What did he take her for? Why didn’t he just leave her alone to enjoy her lunch?
Chancing a glance at him, she noticed him scrutinizing her keenly. He regarded the contours of her face, the curve of her neck, then resting on the rise of her cleavage. A warmth spread over her skin at his inspection and she could not help settling her eyes on the breadth of his shoulders.
“At least let me buy you dinner, when we get back to Cupertino…that is, if you’re from there,” he said.
“You don’t give up, do you?” She looked pointedly at him.
A grin spread across his mouth. There it was again, that pull – the invisible cord that was drawing her to him. When Quinn smiled, her irritation dissipated.
“Not when it’s important.” He’d softened his voice.
“Okay, dinner and that’s it,” she gave in.
That smile again that caused warmth to spread over her like a heated blanket. Inwardly slapping herself, she pushed the feeling aside and gave him a hard stare. She hoped he would get the message that she wanted to eat alone.
“You don’t mind if we have lunch today, do you?” he asked.
“You never said anything about lunch,” she protested.
“Well, since I’m already at the table … and look, someone already took my seat.”
Leah sighed. There was no winning this one, she thought. “Okay lunch and we’re even.”
“Nope, you already promised dinner,” he said, beckoning to a waiter.
Seething at his smugness, she took a gulp of water. This darn cocky bastard was getting on her last nerve. What irritated her the most was that she was unable to control that unending fluttering of her heart each time their eyes met.
Shit! She peered at him over the top of the menu card and he caught her in his snare. Those cobalt pools were pulling her in again. A sound from the direction of the deck broke the spell and Leah took the opportunity to look away.
The room was certainly warm now even though it was raining outside and many people were dressed in sweaters or jackets. Picking up her glass, she brought it to her lips and emptied it. The cool liquid slid down her throat and she closed her eyes to shut out the man before her. Go away, she willed. Leah squirmed as a tiny bead of sweat trickled down her pine. Go away Quinn, I wont allow you to get to me.
“This is going to be a long lunch,” she mumbled, when he made no move to leave.
Quinn must have seen her discomfort since his struck up a conversation about his college years. Surprisingly, after a few minutes she was laughing and completely engrossed in his jokes. He told her stories about his best friend and their childhood, bad jokes he heard and things he’d like to do before he retired.
They talk for three hours nonstop. One conversation led to another until they spoke of their families. When Quinn mentioned his father, the sadness reflected in his eyes.
“You miss him don’t you?” she asked when he’d become quiet. “I lost my grandfather six years ago. He was like my father.”
“We were all each other had,” he said.
Unintentionally, she reached across the table and touched his hand. “What about your mother?”
“She left when I was five and then she passed away when I was in high school. I never forgave her for breaking my father’s heart.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Quinn shrugged and planted a smile on his face. “What about you. Are your parents alive?”
Leah withdrew her hand with a sneer. “They might as well be dead. My mother and father spilt when I was small, that’s how I ended up with my grandparents. I think they disinherited my father and I never saw him again. My mother lives in Florida.”
“You sound like you’re angry with your parents.”
“Even after gramps died, my father never once showed up. I don’t know whether he’s dead or alive. At least my mother tries, whenever she isn’t off somewhere finding a new husband.”
“And that bothers you, that your mother has multiple marriages?”
Leah had no idea how the conversation turned to this. She never talked about her parents to anyone except Bridget, least of all a man she didn’t know.
“Can we talk of something else?”
She wanted to stay away from such subjects that would bring about that hurt and anger she often felt. Deep down, she was convinced that her parents abandoned her because they never wanted her. They’d married quickly and soon separated when she was still a baby.
According to her mother, her grandparents were to blame for the split. Celine made it seem as if Leah’s grandparents were against the marriage because she was black. It didn’t make sense to Leah since her grandparents loved her so much. Her grandfather was her hero and there was nothing he thought too good for his granddaughter.
It had gone well into the dinner hours when Leah told Quinn she had to go. They’d been engrossed in talking to each other that they were both reluctant to part.
With an early flight in the morning, she hurried to her room to pack. After packing her bags, she spent a couple of hour reading and then she ordered a salad for supper. By nine, she was in bed. As she snuggled under the covers, it occurred to her that she hadn’t given Quinn her contact details for Cupertino.
“Oh well. Perhaps it’s better this way,” she mumbled, before sleep stole her away.
~11~
Detective Lawson pored over the files while his brows knitted in a frown. There were several cases of assault before him and they were all connected. Three perpetrators in masks dressed in black were on the wanted list. One of them had been definitively identified as female. In the latest case of assault, a college football quarterback was attacked. He managed to wrestle one of them to the ground before the other two stabbed him in the back.
Lawson picked up the Harrison file and scanned the profile of the witness. Leah Brooks, age 29, managing director of Fantasy Weddings, her office was located in the same building as the victim. When he contacted her office, her assistant told him she was on vacation and would return in a couple of days. Next, he perused the contents of the profile he’d been putting together of the perpetrators.
“What’re you thinking, partner?”
The question came from the desk next to his. Glancing up, he noticed Nolan’s furrowed brows and questioning eyes.
“How do these people hire these jackasses?” Lawson grated.
Nolan snickered. “Who knows? They must have some shady friends who hire these guys.” He paused while he stared at a file before him. “Something about the Harrison case doesn’t seem right. Do you think one of his ‘girlfriends’ hired them?”
“I don’t know. Have you checked into his dealings? Anything shady?” Lawson inquired.
“The guy’s a straight arrow. I think one of his women did it. Let’s see, he’s dating at least three now and left a string of broken hearts behind.”
Lawson was stuck. His guts told him there was more to it than that, but he listened to Nolan anyway. “What have you got?”
“Here.” Nolan pushed a photo of a redhead across to him. Her stunning features resulted in a low whistle from Lawson.
Nolan continued, “He hurt that one pretty bad a few years back. They were practically engaged, until he dumped her.”
“
Have you talked to her?” Lawson queried.
“She says she hasn’t seen him in a couple of years, but she hates him,” Nolan informed him.
“Hate is not a strong motive.”
“It’s a strong enough motivator, though,” Nolan insisted.
Lawson pushed his chair back, scraping the concrete floor. “We got nothing, admit it Nolan.”
Nolan’s shoulders sagged. “We got nothing.”
It was late, past midnight and he needed sleep. Lawson picked up the three files he’d been working on and headed out the door. He barely made it to his car when it occurred to him to check the bank accounts of the people associated with Quinn – past and present. One such person Lawson discovered was Frank Crane. If someone paid to have Harrison attacked, there must be a trail of money somewhere. He went back inside where Nolan was grabbing his jacket to leave.
“What’s the matter?”
“I need a copy of that list of acquaintances for the Harrison guy,” he replied.
“You got something?” Nolan queried.
“Just a hunch, let me check it first then get back to you,” he said.
This was how Lawson worked. He’d feel something in his gut and he’d check if before putting it on the table. The problem was that he needed the chief to approve this part of the investigation since he’d basically be digging into personal accounts. Without a proper suspect, he could get into trouble. It was going to take some convincing for the chief to give him the go-ahead.
Nolan’s disapproval was evident. Nevertheless, he pulled the list from a drawer and handed it over. He knew Nolan felt he was keeping him in the dark, but his partner knew that was his MO.
“This is it,” Nolan said.
“I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I check it out. Might be nothing.”
His partner nodded. “Yeah. Just do what you have to catch these guys.”
“Good, see ya in the morning.” Lawson went back out the door.
As he drove home, he knew he needed to get some information from off the streets. There were a few people he could contact, but one in particular came to mind. People called them snitches and they were often targeted by criminal elements. Lawson saw them as good citizens who he sometimes worked hard to protect.
Take for instance, Gevin was a youth who had followed the wrong crowd and ended up doing drugs. Lawson helped him get his life back on track and he occasionally dropped in to check on the young man to make sure he wasn’t sniffing.
The following morning Lawson sought out Gevin. This youth was good with finding out things. Lawson met him behind an abandoned warehouse around eight. The last time the detective spoke with the informant, his locks were but bumps on his head. Now, his dreadlocks fell off his shoulders.
Lawson scrutinized the young man, trying figure if he was using again. His dark complexion had lost the ruddiness from before and now he looked healthy. Gevin had even gained some weight.
Gevin didn’t seem too happy to see him, however his eyes bulged when Lawson produced a twenty dollar bill.
“Don’t use it on drugs, got it?”
“Man, why’d you have to gone and bring up the past. I clean … been clean for fifteen months, three days and seven hours.”
“Alright,” Lawson grinned. “Just checking. Don’t go spending it on women and alcohol.”
“My girl left me man, and I don’t drink no booze man,” Gevin replied, pocketing the money. “I is gonna buy food fer me and me gran.”
“Now tell me, what you heard about the three mask attackers,” Lawson said, getting straight to the point.
Gevin looked around nervously, then he stepped closer to Lawson. “They call themselves the Three Musketeers. Word on the street is,” he looked around once more, as he spoke in a low tone. “There’s a ratchet among them.”
“Ratchet?” Lawson was befuddled. He thought he knew all the slang of the streets.
“Yes, you know.” Gevin made a rounded motion with his hands near his chest. Lawson looked on with amusement as the snitch made a curvy figure in the air with both hands.
“A woman?” Lawson asked.
“Yes. They’s be like hired people man.” Gevin stuck his hand in his pocket and looked down on the ground.
“What else?” Lawson felt that Gevin was holding out.
“That guy who got stabbed in the garage, he wasn’t’ supposed to live. Now, the woman in the apartment, that was a warning, but the guy’s supposed to be dead meat,” Gevin said. As he spoke, he slashed his finger across his throat and stuck his tongue out for maximum effect.
Lawson listened as the youth continued. “I hear a man hired them, but I can’t give you names, man. You know that’s not how the streets roll.”
“Alright, I know you can’t give me names, but you got to get me something else when I come back, and don’t get yourself in trouble,” Lawson warned. “Now you go first, I gotta take a leak.”
Gevin snuck away, peering over his shoulder as he left. Lawson watched as he disappeared around the corner of the abandoned building and down a side alley. Now, he had something more to work with. A man hired the thugs. He hoped that Gevin could get something more concrete next time.
He took a piss at the corner of the building then moved to his car down the block. He had to park a way off not to arouse suspicion. The building was an old warehouse that nobody but thugs occupied. The police was always raiding it, but this time he came alone. He had to be careful not to get his informant into trouble. These thugs were serious about their privacy and any indication that someone ratted on them would bring dire consequences.
Lawson thought about all the evidence he had so far. The medical report stated that the side wound on Harrison was not done with any great force. When asked, Dr. Rattray agreed it could be from a female who was less aggressive than her male accomplices.
Nolan was waiting for him when he got to the department. He told his partner what he gathered from his informant so that they could continue their investigation.
“I think we should get help from one of the undercover guys,” Lawson suggested.
Nolan shook his head vigorously. “You know those guys only take on certain cases,” he said.
Lawson replied, “One of them owes me a favor, he’ll do it.”
“Don’t you need a target?” Nolan asked.
“I know just the person,” he supplied. “By the way, is the chief in?”
Nolan nodded. “Yep.”
~12~
Quinn stretched his limbs and smiled. The sun was coming up over the mountains with the day promising to be a great one. He went to bed smiling the night before, and for the first time in a week, had a restful sleep. Picking up his cell phone, he check for messages from his office. There were many messages, most of them from Terry and Sofia. Brittani’s messages did not count, as they were no longer together. He’d whittled down his companions to two in order to keep a peaceful life. In addition, he was getting tired of these cat and mouse games. He was getting quite bored.
He was flicking through the numbers, deleting his old contacts when he realized he didn’t have Leah’s number or address.
“How will I contact her?” he grunted, springing from the bed.
Taking a quick shower, he was in the lounge less than ten minutes later. Anxiously, his eyes scanned the room. When he did not see her, he checked the deck as well as the dining areas. She wasn’t there. Thinking that she’d gone for another morning hike, he took a seat in the dining area and waited. After an entire day of waiting, he approached the front desk.
“What room is Miss Brooks in?” he asked the pretty brunette.
“I’m sorry sir, Miss Brooks already checked out,” she smiled.
A twinge of disappointment pricked at him. “When did she leave?”
“This morning, sir.”
“Did she leave a note or message or anything for me?” he had to ask, although he knew he was reaching.
The girl gave him a rueful sm
ile and replied in a soft voice, “No sir, she did not leave anything for you.”
His displeasure was evident in the way he walked away. At least he knew her name. Therefore she wouldn’t be hard to find. Now he knew exactly what she looked like. Still, the fact that she left without a note made his heart ache. They had a great lunch, talking about everything. They clicked, and he knew she felt the same. He could see it in her eyes.
When Quinn decided to find the woman who saved him, he had no idea what to expect. Leah was a pleasant surprise. He’d convinced himself that all he wanted was to repay her. Meeting her was more than he’d imagined. This was the first time in many years that he’d had a meaningful conversation with a woman.
Usually he’d be bored within the first ten minutes of conversing with them. The women he knew, their discussions were usually empty and meaningless. Perhaps that was deliberate on his part since he’d refrained from getting too attached. Now, Quinn found himself intrigued with the self-assured woman named Leah.
There were two days left on his trip, nevertheless, he cancelled them and arranged to leave as soon as possible. While on the private plane back to Cupertino, he thought about Leah. Why couldn’t he get her out of his mind? Although, it wasn’t his mind that started beating wildly at the thought of her. He raised a hand to his chest and rested it on his drumming heart. He could feel the heavy thudding under his palm. Nothing like that ever happened with him before. That’s when he knew he had to find her.
Quinn’s mind ran on the private investigator named Copeland. The man was an old friend of his father. Quinn had been holding off calling on him in order to allow justice to take its course. However, he was impatient that he had no clue who Leah was. He suspected that she worked in his building, but there were more than a hundred offices in that building. He would need someone to help him who could find anyone quickly.
He made the call while he was in transit to Cupertino. Copeland agreed to meet him the following morning. The PI would not only find Leah, but find out who wants him dead and why.
* * *