Big Daddy Sinatra 3: The Best of My Love (The Sinatras of Jericho County) (10 page)

“Special
just the way you like it, Chief,” the bartender said as he slid a glass shot of
liquor across the bar counter.

Brent
took it up and swallowed it with one long gulp, and then banged the small glass
on the countertop and shook his head.
 

“Told
you it was special,” he bartender said.

Brent
slid the glass back across the counter.
 
“Special it up again,” he said.

The
bartender laughed.
 
“Will do, Chief,” he
said.

Brent
wiped his mouth and belched, just as his cell phone began to ring.
 
When he pulled out his phone, saw that it was
a female he knew, he let her call go to his Voice Mail.
 
He didn’t know who he wanted to be with
tonight, or if he wanted to be with anybody, and he was not interested in any
persuading.
 

But
as he looked up across the bar at the festive crowd, and waited for the
bartender to mix his drink, he realized, clean across the room, Eddie Rivers
was in the house.
 
He was sitting in a
booth across the way.
 
And he was not
alone.
 
Which wasn’t unusual at all.
 
Eddie and his ladies frequented Grogan’s more
than Brent did.
 
But what caught Brent’s
attention was the woman with Eddie.
 
Makayla Ross.
 
The very woman
Brent had considered calling tonight himself, but decided she was not the hit
and run type.
 
But here she was with
Eddie of all people, the hit-and-run King.
 
What the fuck?

  
Brent left the bar counter before his drink
could arrive and made his way to Eddie’s booth.
 
Makayla saw him coming first, and then Eddie’s eyes followed her gaze.
 
And he smiled.
 
“Well you old rascal,” he said as Brent
arrived, “I thought you were going over to the poker game on Spelling tonight.”

“I
thought about it,” Brent said, looking more at Makayla than he was looking at
Eddie.
 
“Hello, Miss Ross.”

Makayla
was pleased by his presence.
 
She
smiled.
 
“Hello, Chief.”

“I
didn’t realize you guys had planned a meeting tonight.”

“Because
it’s no big deal,” Eddie said.
 
“I asked
if she wanted to get together for drinks and discuss just what she would need
from the department, and she agreed.”

“Did
she?” Brent asked, unable to take his eyes off her.
 
She wore red, a beautiful red chiffon blouse
tucked into a pair of black slacks, and that red against her brown skin was
electrifying.
 
What a gorgeous girl, he
thought.

“Would
you care to join us?” Makayla asked.

“I’m
sure he has other things to do,” Eddie quickly interjected just as Brent’s cell
phone notified him of a text message.
 
“You have places to go, people to see.
 
Don’t you, boss?”

Brent
looked at his text message.
 
An armed
robbery on Allendale in need of a supervisor.
 
He took robberies more serious than most any crime, because anything
could go wrong.
 
He looked at Eddie.
 
“There’s a robbery in progress over on
Allendale,” he said.
 
“They need a
supervisor on scene.”

“Okay,”
Eddie said.
 
A supervisor was anybody
with any rank, including a sergeant.
 

“What
do you mean okay?” Brent asked, a little perturbed now.
 
“Get your ass over there and check it out.”

Eddie
frowned.
 
“Me?
 
Why would I need to go?
 
You can send Lieutenant Macklin over there,
or even Sergeant Graham.
 
Why do I have
to go?”

Brent
gave Eddie a hard, cold look that even Makayla recognized as serious
shade.
 
“Could I see you for a minute?”
Brent walked away, without waiting for an answer.

Makayla
smiled. “You’re in trouble.”

Eddie
exhaled.
 
“It would appear,” he said,
stood up, and followed his boss near the entrance.

When
Eddie arrived, he could tell Brent was steaming.
 
“What did I tell you to do?” Brent asked him.

“You
told me to go on scene.
 
But I don’t see
why it’s necessary for me to go.”

“I
don’t give a fuck,” Brent said angrily, but had to lower his voice.
 
“I don’t give a fuck what you don’t see.
 
There’s a robbery in progress and our men
need a supervisor to direct a response.
 
You get your ass over there and direct the response.
 
You know how serious I take armed robberies.
You know how easily things can go wrong, there could be hostages, anything
could happen.”

“Okay,
understood.
 
I just thought . . .”

“You
just thought what?” Brent asked.

“I
thought you might be interested in Makayla.”

“I am
interested in Makayla,” Brent admitted. “But that has nothing to do with this.”

“So
you’re going to try and get her for yourself?” Eddie asked.

Brent
frowned.
 
“What is that your business?”

“Do
you realize how rare it is for a black man in Jericho to find a gorgeous,
available black lady?
 
I was out of my
mind with excitement, man!”

“She’s
young enough to be your daughter, Eddie.”

Eddie
smiled.
 
“Nobody’s too young for Sweet
Eddie.”

“More
like Fast Eddie.
 
Now take off.”

“Ah,
man, I forgot. I picked her up from her rental house.
 
She’s renting that place over on
Stoneridge.
 
I’ll tell her I’ll come back
after I finish up. I’m her ride back home.”

“I’ll
get her home,” Brent said.
 
“And I’m going
to work with her from here on out, so you can back off of her entirely.
 
You go handle that call.
 
I’ll handle her.”

Eddie
smiled.
 
“Oh, I’ll bet you will.
 
I’ll bet you’ll handle her all the way to the
bedroom.
 
But hey, I’m not mad at you. I
had the same thought myself.
 
But I don’t
think she was feeling me.”

“Not
feeling Sweet Eddie?
 
I wonder why.”

“She’s
a tough one, in my opinion.
 
She’s going
to make you work hard for every inch of pussy she gives up.
 
She’s not like our regulars.
 
There’s nothing easy about her.
 
Don’t expect anything easy with that one.”

Brent
had already suspected as much.
 
They were
constantly warning off the other one when it came to a potential bedmate.
 
It was the way men operated in Jericho.
 
“Okay,” he said, patting his friend’s
back.
 
“And Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t
you ever again speak vulgar like that about Miss Ross.”

Eddie
smiled.
 
“Oh, yeah.
 
You’re hooked already.
 
But I hear ya’.
 
I’m out of here.
 
Give her my apologies.”

“Will
do.”

Then
Eddie smiled and shook his head.
 
“Lucky
dog,” he said as he left.
 

Makayla
could tell there was a bait and switch going on.
 
That was undoubtedly why Brent wanted Eddie
to go to that crime scene and Eddie didn’t want to go.
 
But she was pleased when she saw that it was
Eddie who was leaving.
 
He was a good
looking guy to be sure, and an African-American male professional, which was
definitely her preference, but his fun-loving personality was nowhere near the
kind of man she preferred.
 
Brent, on the
other hand, had the kind of personality, and especially the kind of body, that
was spot on.

And
as he began heading back toward her booth, she immediately felt that hidden
undercurrent he exuded.
 
There was
something explosive about that man.
 
Her
eyes even moved downward, to that substantial bundle between his legs, and she
began to wonder if that was it.
 
Did this
man possess the kind of rage that only came out in bed, and it was such a
fierceness that women couldn’t get enough of it?
 
She’d met guys like that before.
 
Her ex, before she left him, was that kind of
guy.
 
Did Brent Sinatra have that kind of
skill in him too?
 
A part of her wanted
to find out.
 
A big part of her.
 
But it would be a disaster if she went down
that road with him.
 
It could destroy their
business relationship.
 
So she decided
she wouldn’t go there, as he arrived at her table.

“He
gives his regards,” Brent said as he took the booth seat that had been vacated
by Eddie.
 

“I
rode with him,” Makayla said.
 
“But it won’t
be the first time I was stood up at a bar.”

“I’m
taking you home,” Brent said and looked her dead in her eyes.
 
That look, as if all kinds of double meanings
were dancing through his head, jolted her.
 
She looked away.

“What
is this?” he asked as he picked up Eddie’s glass and sniffed his drink.

“A pipe
bender was what he called it.”

Brent
shook his head.
 
“That Eddie,” he said,
and motioned over one of the waitresses.
 

“Sir?”
the waitress asked.

“A
beer for me,” he said, and looked at Makayla.
 
“Need a refresher?”

“I’m
good,” Makayla said.
 

He
glanced down at her drink and saw that it was orange juice.
 
“That’ll be all,” he said to the waitress,
and the waitress left.

Makayla
smiled.
 
“I’ll bet you drink on duty.”

“Sure
do,” Brent said.
 
“You?”

“Sure
don’t.
 
Not because of any piety, mind
you, but because I don’t drink.
 
Period.”

“Yet
you meet Eddie in a bar.”

“His
choice. Not mine.”

“I
don’t understand why you would go at all.”

“Go
where?”

“On a
date with Eddie.
 
We don’t call him Fast
Eddie for nothing.
 
You should have
discerned what kind of man he was.”

“You
mean he’s a man who wants to bed every woman he meets?”

“Exactly!”

“A
man like you?”

“Exactly,”
Brent responded before he realized he was saying it. “No!
 
Not at all!”

Makayla
laughed.

Brent
couldn’t help but smile.
 
“That was a
trick!”

“No,
it was not.
 
Your mouth uttered the
truth.
 
But it takes one to know one so
I’m not mad at you.”

Brent
considered her.
 
“You like to bed every
man you meet?
 
Is that what you’re
telling me?”

“Get
real.
 
I don’t want to bed hardly any of
the men I meet.”
 
Then she looked her big
eyes straight into his.
 
“But there’s
that occasional one,” she admitted.

Brent’s
heartbeat quickened.
 
He loved a woman
who didn’t mind putting it out there.
 
She was interested, and he was, and he loved the fact that he didn’t
have to pull teeth to get her to admit it.
 
But the night was young.
 
“Mother
or father?” he asked her as he took both hands and shoved back his pile of wavy
black hair.

Makayla
was confused.
 
“Excuse me?”

“Which
one was the alcoholic?
 
Your mother or
your father?”

Now
she was thrown.
 
“What are you talking
about?
 
Just because I don’t drink would
cause you to ask me a question like that?”

Brent
continued to look at her.
 
It was not
just the fact that she didn’t drink.
 
It
was the fact that she made a point of pointing out that he did.
 
But he remained silent.
 
If he had read her right, he knew that truth
would prevail.
 
She would go there and
tell it to him straight.

“Neither,”
she eventually said when it was obvious he was not going to respond.
 
“Neither of my parents were heavy
drinkers.”
 

But
he kept looking at her, as if he was looking through her.
 
As if he knew there was more to her story
than she was willing to tell, but if he kept the pressure on she would tell
it.
 
But could some jock like him be that
insightful, she wondered.
 
Or was she
giving him too much credit?
 
She had no
intentions of telling her truth to a man who was practically a stranger to her,
but his look was so darn sincere, she actually felt emboldened.
 
“But I was,” she admitted.
 
“I was no alcoholic, but I was heading in
that direction.
 
I had problems and was
drinking as if alcohol could solve my problems.
 
Or at least ease the pain.”

“It
didn’t work?” Brent asked.

“Didn’t
solve a damn thing,” Makayla admitted.
 
“Didn’t ease it either.
 
So I knew
I had to quit altogether or deal with the consequences.”

Brent
nodded his head.
 
She was strong
too.
 
He liked that.
 
“How long ago?” he asked her.

Makayla
didn’t realize it, but Brent saw a flash of pain appear in her big, intelligent
eyes that made him convinced it was still an open wound.
 
“Not long,” she responded.

Brent
immediately motioned to the waitress.

Makayla
looked at him.
 
“What are you doing?” she
asked.

“Yes,
sir?” The waitress returned.
 
“May I help
you?”

“Cancel
the beer,” Brent said.
 
“Bring me a Coke
instead.
 
And take this with you.”
 
He handed the waitress the drink Eddie had
left behind.

The
waitress glanced at Makayla with some serious attitude, as if it was all her
doing.
 
They made far more money on shots
of beer than shots of Coke.
 
“Yes, sir,”
she said, and then left again.

Makayla
leaned toward him.
 
“You didn’t have to
change your order.
 
What are you
doing?
 
I’m not that weak!”

“I
didn’t say you were.”
 
Then he leaned
forward.
 
He could see the beauty in her
clear, dark eyes.
 
“I’m glad I ran into
you.”

“You
can drink around me, Chief,” Makayla continued.
 
“That’s why I can sit in a bar and not be intimidated.
 
I’m not that weak.”

“I
heard you the first time.
 
Did you hear
me?
 
I said I’m glad I ran into you
tonight.”

Makayla
realized the control freak in her was not going to control this man.
 
If her toughness was a ten, his was a
hundred.
 
“So is this how you spend your
Friday nights?
 
Trolling bars?”

Brent
smiled.
 
“Yeah, that’s it.”

“To
answer your question,” Makayla said, turning serious, “I came to this bar with
Eddie Rivers because I needed to get a feel for your family.
 
You and he are friends.
 
I thought he could give me some insight.”

Brent
leaned back.
 
“Insight into my family?”

“That’s
right.
 
He’s given me all the case files
I need, and I appreciate that, but I need to know what I’m up against.”

“You
aren’t up against my family.”

“That’s
not what I’ve been hearing.
 
I’ve only
been in town a week, but I’ve been given an earful about that family of yours.”

“Such
as?”

“For
one thing, most of the people I spoke to thought your grandfather were
dead.
 
Most thought he died in prison
years ago.”

Brent
nodded.
 
“They thought it because my father
never tried to disabuse them of that thought.
 
He didn’t lie about it, he just didn’t discuss it.”

“Neither
do you or your brothers discuss your grandfather.
 
From what I’ve heard.”

Brent
nodded.
 
“He was a non-factor in our
lives.
 
My father saw to that.”

“But
not in your aunt’s life,” Makayla said.

Brent
looked at her.
 
“What do you know about
my aunt?”

“I
know her name is Jacqueline Sinatra but everybody calls her Sprig.
 
I know she used to visit your grandfather
regularly in prison when he was first convicted.
 
I know she didn’t testify against him.
 
I know she still blames your father for his
incarceration to begin with.”

“It’s
crazy, I know.”
 
But then Brent
exhaled.
 
“But it’s typical Aunt Sprig.”

“I
know that much about her,” Makayla said, “because she got in touch with me.”

This
surprised Brent.
 
“She contacted you?”

“She
did.
 
She says she wants to testify on
her father’s behalf.”

Brent
stared at her.
 
She was an ethical woman
too, at least that was what he gauged about her during her time around the
police station.
 
She was collecting files
and talking to older cops who were on the force all those years ago, and she
seemed ethical and above board to him, as if she was seeking the truth just
like she said.
 
“What did you tell her?”
he asked.

“I
told her no thanks,” Makayla said.
 

Brent
nodded.
 
“Good.”

“She’s
a drunk,” Makayla said.
 
“That’s the
reason.”

But
it was not that simple to Brent.
 
He
always became defensive when people dismissed his aunt’s condition as if it was
easily acquired and could be easily released.
 
“You witness your father killing your mother,” he said.
 
“You get away from the hell that is your
childhood home, but marry a man like Benny Gabrini, a man who beat the crap out
of you and turned your own children against you.
 
You’d be a drunk too.”

“I
didn’t mean any disrespect,” Makayla said.
 
“It takes one to know one, that’s why I know she wouldn’t be a reliable
person to put on anybody’s stand.
 
That’s
the only reason I’m not interested in her as a witness.
 
Same reason why I’m not attempting to go to
Philadelphia to speak with your Uncle Mick.”

“I
don’t know my Uncle Mick like that.
 
My
father kept him away from us and we have no relationship whatsoever.
 
But I never heard tell of him being any
alcoholic.”

“He’s
not an alcoholic,” Makayla said, “but he’s a reputed mob boss, as I would
imagine you’ve heard.”

“I
don’t have any contact with the man.
 
He
has nothing to do with me, and that’s fine by me.”

“What
about the family your aunt married into?” Makayla asked.
 
“What about the Gabrinis?
 
Does he have anything to do with them?
 
They have mob connections too.”