He looked up and studied her face a moment before cautiously smiling. "Is it safe for me to talk, morning person? I told you I would remember."
She looked over to the secretary's empty desk. "I'm perfectly fine despite those ribs you fed me last night, Agent Tanner. I see our office assistant is late as usual."
Eli looked back at the report he'd been reading. "Nope, Regina was here when I got here. We were out of coffee for the machine so she went to get us a couple of cups."
Ashley snapped her eyes at him. "Agent Tanner, if Regina were a man, would you have sent him to fetch your coffee?'
He kept his eyes on the report. "Nope, she volunteered and I gave her the money." His eyes slowly rose to her. "Have you tried a cold shower when you get up? Maybe that would work."
The door swung open and a tall black woman stepped in.
She was holding a cardboard carton holding two huge plastic cups of coffee. "Boss, I hope you like it with cream 'cause I didn't know and put it in anyway. I like cream. Oh, Agent Sutton. Good morning."
Still fuming over Eli's suggestion that she take a cold shower, Ashley spoke in a monotone. "Good morning, Ms.
Washington."
The black woman set the carton down and handed him his cup. "I got Sweet' n Lows and NutraSweets and some sugar. I don't use sugar-watchin' my figure, ya know. Stirrin' stick here somewhere. I got the big ones 'cause they were on special, couldn't beat it. Wake us for sure, won't it?'
Eli had stood to accept the cup and looked around as if searching for something. "Thanks, Regina. Where do we keep the extra cups? I'll pour some of this into one for Agent Sutton.
I think she needs it."
Ashley glared as the secretary pointed to a cabinet. "Second shelf. I best be checkin' the police reports from last night. I'll highlight any of interest, boss." She walked slowly, carefully holding her cup, and disappeared into a back room.
Ashley attacked immediately. "You two certainly seem to be getting along. In all the time I've been here, Ms. Washington has never volunteered to get me coffee."
"Mother instinct, Agent Sutton," Eli said as he walked toward the cabinet. "She's trying to make a good impression, don't take it personal."
"I don't need coffee, Tanner," Ashley growled. "And I most certainly don't need a cold shower."
Eli turned around. Without speaking he took up his old position in the chair and resumed reading the report.
A full two minutes passed before Ashley finally slapped the desk. "Okay, I'll take a half cup. Jesus, I hate the silent treatment."
After getting a cup and pouring her coffee, Eli pulled his chair closer to her desk. "Let me see if I've got this right. We're a three-agent office but Agent Doss is on loan to the Richmond office for a special task force, and Agent Watkins is in Atlanta working with the U. S. assistant attorney preparing for a trial?"
Ashley nodded. "Right, but as long as I've been here it's been just me. I know what you're thinking, but don't worry.
Watkins should finish up in another two weeks and be back to work. You're not going to be stuck with just me."
Eli motioned to the files he had stacked on the floor. "Sure not much to do around here. We've got thirty active cases and none of them are major, mostly paperwork."
"As I told you last night when I went over them with you, that paperwork takes up most of my time, as it will yours.
We've been lucky, we also handle graft, corruption, and bribery of local elected officials, but for some reason it's been slow. They've been good boys for a change. Are you worried you're going to get bored?"
Eli shrugged. "Not really, it's just I thought there would be more--"
"Action?"
"No, Agent Sutton, I was going to say business. 'Action' means a lot of things, none of them good. I'm not complaining-- in fact, I'm pleasantly surprised. By the way, Millie asked me to ask you to call her."
"She upset you didn't make it to dinner last night and meet her friend?'
"Let's say she wasn't pleased. It's on again for tonight;
Millie never gives up when she's on a mission . . . and I think I'm the mission. I was wondering if . . ."
"Don't even think about it, Tanner. I'm not giving you an excuse tonight. You'll just have to suffer through dinner with the lady Millie wants you to meet."
Eli sighed and pushed his chair back. "One more night of discussing caseloads wouldn't kill ya."
Ashley cocked an eyebrow. "I might have considered it if you had taken me someplace decent to eat. Bubba's Rib House was not exactly a four-star eatery. It might have qualified for a half star if we hadn't had to fight off the flies. And that music, how could you concentrate on what I was telling you with that loud country western crap twanging in your ears?"
Eli stared hard at her, but knew she was enjoying the verbal swordplay and was actually attempting to beat him at his own game. We'll see about that, he said to himself. "Agent Sutton, we have a problem. If you don't like barbecue ribs and country music, we're going to have a hard time getting along. It isn't crap. You're talking about real America when you talk about country music. Please be sensitive and remember that in the future."
"Right, Tanner, and I'll try and burp aloud like the locals next time, too."
He shook his head as if in disgust and picked up another case file.
Ashley smiled to herself. She gave him a side glance and saw that he was looking at her again. "What?" she snapped.
"Have I still got barbecue sauce on my face or something?"
His eyes narrowed. "Why didn't ya tell me ya didn't like the place?'
"Just like a man, you didn't ask. You assumed I'd like what you liked."
"All ya had to do was say something."
"And all you had to do was ask."
He rolled his eyes and resumed reading the report.
Ashley leaned back in her chair, savoring her victory. This is fun, she thought.
"Shortstop, right?"
Ashley looked at him. "Did you speak to me?"
"You played shortstop for your team, right?" Eli asked.
"Yes, how did you know?"
He motioned to his stomach, smiled and went back to his reading.
Ashley took but a marker, walked to the calendar on the wall and placed an X through the fifth of June. She turned and mumbled aloud so he would hear. "Eighty-eight days and counting. It won't come soon enough."
.
7:30 P. M.
Jerome got his brother's attention and flicked his eyes to the door. Understanding the signal, Eli smiled at the woman sitting across from him. "If you'll please excuse me a moment, Miss Cynthia, I have to check in with my office. We're working a very important case."
"Dear me, and you just arrived, too," the attractive woman drawled.
Jerome quickly stood. "Ladies, if you'll excuse me a moment as well, I'm going out to check on the dog. Skunks have been coming around and I want to make sure the fence is locked."
Millie gave both men her best glare as they headed for the door. "I expect you both back soon," she said in a warning tone.
Once out of the dining mom side door and safely out of earshot, Jerome shook his head. "Sony, Elly. There are some things I can control, but Millie isn't one of them."
Eli put his arm over his brother's shoulder. "She means well.
Cynthia isn't that bad. How was your day?"
"The usual. Three wives came in to have their husbands tailed. One said her Charley got a new-style haircut and she'd read in Cosmo it was a sure sign he had himself a girlfriend. Go figure, will ya? How was your day?"
"Okay. Found out I have a real winner in our secretary.
She's smarter than a whip and knows the office work inside and out. She could run the place with no problem."
Jerome eyed his brother. "And Agent Sutton? How are you two gettin' along? Come on, don't give me that look. She's a tight-ass if I ever saw one. Sure she looks good, but she's got serious head problems. She a lesbo, you think?"
&nb
sp; Eli shook his head as he allowed Jerome to step out into the garage. "Now, she's really not that bad when she loosens up.
'Course, those moments seem pretty far apart at times."
Jerome smiled. "If she's not a lesbo, use your Tanner charm."
"I think I lost that when my hair turned gray. It's not a big thing, we're really gettin' along pretty well, considering. I don't know what in the hell she's talking about half the time.
She talks about policy this and regulation that, I think she can even quote the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. She's into rules and regulations."
"Inexperienced ones have to hang on to something, Elly.
Plus she's older than most of her peers who came in the same time she did. . . . I'm sure that puts a little more pressure on her to do good. She's probably a little awed by you. Keep your cool, she'll be gone soon. Hey, John called today and says he and Colin want a rematch. You up to playing this Saturday?'
Eli smiled and patted his brother's shoulder. "It's begun, Jer.
It's sinkin' in that I'm really here and this is goin' to be home.
Hell yeah, tell 'em we'll play 'em again. We Tanner boys are together again and goin' to kick ass."
Jerome winked. "Play your cards right, ya might get lucky tonight. Cynthia is droolin' , and she's loaded, Elly. Her ex had to give her half of his assets, which were very sizable. Rich and horny ain't a bad combination for a lonely guy like yourself."
"But can she cook?"
"Elly, you'd better listen to that rules lady-she's right, you are a sexist. Come on before Millie kicks both our asses for sneakin' out."
A mile and a half from the Tanner house, Ashley sat in her small apartment living room with the phone next to her ear.
". . . just moved back into the apartment today, Mom . . . No, I checked and haven't seen any termites, the bug people got them all . The new agent? He's not new, Mom, he's a senior agent, you know, like Dad was a senior detective . . . Yeah, we're getting along all right, I guess. He reminds me of Dad sometimes . . . How? I guess it's the way he walks and holds his head. He's got that confident walk like Dad had. And he has a good sense of humor just like Dad had . . . Me? Interested in him? Heavens no, Mother, he's an agent . . . Mom, I know I'm not getting any younger . . . Don't worry, I've met a couple of prospects that have asked me out. Don't worry about me, okay? I'm happy . . . Yes, I'm sure I'm happy. In less than three months I'll be in Atlanta and things will even be better...
Mom, I have to go now, my beeper went off . . . Yes, of course, I'll call again tomorrow. Love you. Good-bye."
Feeling guilty for having lied about the beeper, Ashley placed the handset back into the cradle and slowly shook her head. She rose from the couch and looked at the stacked boxes along the far wall. See, there's a reason to be happy. I don't have much to pack I still have boxes I didn't unpack from the last move.
She walked into the kitchen, opened the small freezer door and took out a frozen burrito. Opening one end of the wrapping, she placed the burrito in the microwave and set the timer.
Pushing the Start button, she turned, looked again into the living room, and thought about unpacking. You've been here a month, you know? What would you do if somebody wanted to come over and visit? Right, big chance of that happening. No, leave it like it is. Who cares?
The microwave's beeping broke her from her reverie. Minutes later she was on the couch, the TV tray on her lap holding a paper plate and what was left of the burrito. Setting the tray on the coffee table, she picked up the photo album, and put it on her lap and began turning the pages. She stopped when she found the picture she was looking for. A smile slowly came to her. "Hi, Dad. I called Mom again today. She's hangin' in there, Daddy. She really likes her job at the courthouse and seems to be really enjoying life . . . Me? Come on, Daddy, it's Button. Remember, I'm your tough little gal who never lets anything bother her. I'm doin' real good. I I. . . I miss you is all.
I just needed to see you again."
Ashley felt the tears coming and closed her eyes. 'Why, Daddy? Why did you go into that damn alley? Mom and I needed you so much."
She opened her eyes, looked again at the smiling man and nodded. "I know Daddy, it was your duty . . . you had to go in.
Yes, I remember what you told me when we heard that Josh had died. You said Josh had died doing his duty for his country. I thought it didn't matter, Dad. I'm sorry. I thought Josh had died alone without anyone caring but us. . . . I was wrong, Dad. I saw yesterday that soldiers do care for one another very much. . . . I know now, Dad. I wanted you to know I know."
Running her fingers over the picture one more time, Ashley slowly closed the album and took in a deep breath. Exhaling, she set the album aside and stood. "I think it's time I got this place in order," she said aloud. "It depresses me like this.
Okay, first the boxes, then I'm putting up the curtains. I think it's time I gave up living like a bag lady. I'm a Sutton, damnit.
We don't give up; we have a duty to go on. Time to get to work."
Two miles away, Cynthia leaned over in the plush leather seats of Jerome's Lincoln and patted Eli's hand. "Thank you for takin' me home, Eli. Would you like to come in for some coffee? It'll only take a minute."
Eli smiled and turned off the ignition, thinking it might be nice. He was starting over and this was one way to do it, have coffee and whatever else Cynthia wanted to share with him.
She was a nice lady, a little too touchy-feely, but sweet, he thought as he got out of the car. I can do this, he told himself, taking her arm. Just let nature take its course. She'll keep the lights low and turn on soft music for starters, then walk into the kitchen and come back with wine, not coffee. Step three will be we'll talk awhile, and then step four comes and we'll start making out and things will heat up. Then comes step five, when I suggest we should get more comfortable, and that will be it; no more doubts what will happen after that. Yep, I can handle this. No sweat.
Cynthia unlocked the front door and quickly walked across the foyer and turned off the alarm. "Sorry, the house is just a mess. Just follow me back to the great room."
The house was a small mansion. In the foyer, a Tang horseman was looking unconcernedly across a Bukhara rug at two celadon vases. Eli followed her back to the great room, where she picked up a remote control and pointed it at a burl wood cabinet. Immediately Frank Sinatra's voice filled the room in surround sound.
Eli cringed. He knew there would be music, but Old Blue Eyes? Cynthia swayed her hips as she approached him. "Don't you just love him?"
Eli wanted to ask if she had any Garth Brooks or Clint Black tunes, or even that white guy that sounded black--Michael Bolder or Boston or something like that--but instead he smiled and said, "Yes, he's great."
Cynthia pressed her body against him. "I knew you would," she whispered and kissed his chin. She backed up slowly, giving him that look, and purred. "I'm going to change into something more comfortable. There's a bottle of wine just behind you. Why don't you pour us a glass . . . I'll be right back."
Eli was stunned. Where were steps two, three, and four?
Shit, she was already at five and that was his step! He grabbed for the cell phone inside his jacket and punched the keys as fast as he could. He brought the phone to his ear and waited.
Finally Jerome answered sleepily.
Eli whispered, "Call me in five minutes . . . I know it's late and you were asleep, damnit, call my cell phone number. It's on the refrigerator door under the Big Bird magnet . . . Yeah, I want you to get out of bed and walk all the way into the kitchen! Listen to me, you got me into this--well, Millie did--and you're gettin' me out. Shit, Jer, I've been in the house just a minute and she's already into the slippin' into the somethin' more comfortable stage . . . Look, just call me, five minutes damn you, 'bye."
Putting away the phone Eli hurried to the counter and picked up the corkscrew. Jesus, she'd had this planned for days, he thought. What's she going to come out in, her birthday su
it?
To the tune of "Moon River," he opened the bottle and poured two crystal wineglasses half full. His wait and wondering were over. Cynthia appeared in a filmy see-through robe that barely covered her thighs. He wasn't quite sure what it was she wore under the robe, but it didn't have much material and left absolutely nothing to his imagination. Cynthia obviously went to a tanning booth because there were no tan lines anywhere, and he could almost see all of her where lines would have showed. For a woman in her late forties, she looked terrific, he thought.
She swayed back and forth as she came closer and lifted her arms. "Dance with me."
Solemn Duty (1997) Page 9