Brooklyn's Song (10 page)

Chapter 33

Brooklyn was walking down the hall carrying a box filled with supplies for arts and crafts when Harold called to her.

Shit, she thought, I’m already behind schedule. She turned and smiled. “Good morning, Harold.”

“Hello, I can take that for you, if you like,” he said, reaching for the box.

“Thanks, but it isn’t heavy. What’s up?”

He looked down at the floor. “Umm, I was wondering if…If you’re not busy tonight…” Harold paused for a moment. It was as if he finally mustered up enough courage to make eye contact with her. His eyes left hers and fixated on her neck. He took a downward turn like he suddenly lost his confidence. Harold’s shoulders slouched and he looked extremely disappointed.

“Harold, are you okay?” Brooklyn asked.

“Yes, I’m...I’m fine,” he said, stammering, “I have to go.”

Brooklyn watched him walk away and wondered if he was okay. She continued down the hall when she ran into Lonette.

“Hey Girl, tell me all about your date last night,” Lonette eagerly said.

“I wish I could, but I have to set up for class.”

Lonette grabbed the box from Brooklyn and followed her into the classroom.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Lonette said, trying to buy more time.

“Just make sure each desk has a box of crayons and a paint set,” Brooklyn said.

“Fine, so how did it go, with Song?”

“We had dinner and-“

“And what; come on fess up.”

“He stayed the night... And no I’m not giving you details,” Brooklyn quickly said.

Lonette began to laugh. “You don’t have to give details; the evidence is all over the side of your neck.”

“What!? Tell me I don’t have…” Brooklyn grabbed her compact out of her pocketbook and looked in the mirror; she was mortified to see the right side of her neck covered with hickeys.

”Shit, no wonder Harold behaved so strangely. I was running late today and didn’t notice when I looked in the mirror.”

Lonette took her scarf from around her waist and handed it to Brooklyn. “It doesn’t match your outfit, but it will cover your neck.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Girl, you can thank me by giving me the dirty details. Come on, I tell you everything.”

“Brooklyn laughed. “I know you tell me …Everything, but I never have to ask.”

Lonette pushed her on the shoulder and the first morning bell began to ring.

“Yes,” Brooklyn said, holding her fists up in victory, “Saved by the bell.”

Lonette playfully tugged on the scarf. “Be careful; I’ll take it back. See you later,” she said, rushing out the door.

“Bye Lonette,” Brooklyn said, in a mocking tone.

Chapter 34

Song and Mattice were at a construction site awaiting the arrival of real estate mogul George Sokołowski. At the morning briefing they learned the investigation into the shooting was going in different directions. The FBI agent in charge, Mike Waters, a lanky man in his late 40’s, was as vague as possible when relaying information and answering questions.

“Agent Waters, has the NCIC found any matches with the hair that was found inside the cap?” Song asked.

Agent Waters shook his head no. “As of now we haven’t found any matches.”

“Agent Waters, is it possible that the assailant worked for the hotel, which would explain why it was so easy for him to get in?” Another detective asked.

Agent Waters let out an audible sigh. “Look, we are pursuing all leads and we aren’t leaving one stone left unturned. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Dude acts like he’s doing us a favor by tossing us some bullshit breadcrumbs. Let’s roll,” Mattice whispered to Song.

Song and Mattice left the station and headed to the Bronx. There were at least 80 people of interest who attended both Franchetti’s and the governor’s fundraisers. George Sokołowski was one of them. Mattice and Song stood on a concrete platform and watched as Sokołowski pulled up in a stretch Hummer limo.

“A Hummer…Really? To hell with the environment, I want people to know I’ve got stacks to burn?” Mattice said.

The Hummer came to a stop and a beefy bodyguard stepped out followed by a man dressed in white from head to toe.

“Detectives, I’m George Sokołowski, “He said, extending his hand.

“I‘m Detective Kia and this is Detective Blake,” Song said, reaching to shake Sokołowski’s hand.

“Stay by the car,” Sokołowski shouted at the bodyguard.

He waved his hand at Song and Mattice. “Walk with me.”

Song and Mattice walked along side Sokołowski up a little hill to a fenced in area. Sokołowski pulled out a cigar, lit it, and blew a plume of smoke in the in the air. He stared through the wire fence at the city below.

“Today we’re holding a groundbreaking ceremony for a strip mall named after my youngest daughter Ashland.” He chuckled. “To think over 70 years ago my father busted his ass working at a newsstand selling papers for a nickel, and my mother cleaned bedpans at a hospital. Now I’m about to build my 60th strip mall.” Sokołowski grinned. “You didn’t come here to hear my life story; so what’s going on?”

“We’re here regarding the attempted assassination of Governor Peirce,” Mattice said.

Sokołowski turned and faced them. “I hope you don’t think I had something to do with that? Sage and I have known each other for years. I contributed to his campaign and his daughters attended the same boarding school as my two girls.”

“‘We’re just following leads,” Song said.

“I donated to a number of candidates; I like to see them duke it out. Yes, Sage is a friend, but…” He hesitated. “To be perfectly frank, I didn’t like what going on behind the scenes with his campaign.”

“You care to elaborate?” Mattice asked.

Sokołowski picked at the lint on his sleeve. “I think Sage is a hardworking, honest guy. I wanted to fully support the first African American governor of the state, but when I saw some of the people he aligned himself with, I discontinued my support. There have always been whispers about Sage offering high official positions for huge campaign donations; you know, the old ‘pay to play’ game.

“Was there anyone in particular that you were concerned about?” Song asked.

“Detective, I’m not going to name names, I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. I don’t know if any of this is true.”

Sokolowski’s cell phone chirped. He pulled it from his shirt pocket.

“Be right there,” he barked, into the phone. “My wife and daughters are waiting for me. Please take the back trail; the last thing I need is for the press to see me with two NYPD detectives.“

Song and Mattice obliged, and avoided the reporters and cameras.

“So, the Governor may be involved in unscrupulous behavior,” Song said.

“This shit just got real!” Mattice said.

Chapter 35

When Brooklyn got out of work she met her father at the airport. The governor was flying Lydia to one of the most renowned rehabilitation centers in the country located in Colorado. Although Lydia was recovering faster than expected, it was highly recommended that she continue physical therapy. After seeing her father and Lydia off, Brooklyn returned to her loft and was sitting at her desk grading papers. She smiled thinking about her conversation with Marta earlier in the day.

“Brook, what are you hiding with that scarf?” Marta asked, when they were alone.

“Marta, it’s nothing more than a fashion accessory.”

Marta shook her head in disbelief. “You hate the color green.”

Marta quickly lifted the border of the scarf revealing Brooklyn’s neck. “Who is this fashion accessory that you speak of?”

“Hopefully, you’ll meet him soon.”

She kissed Marta on the cheek and hopped into the Town Car. She smiled as she watched Marta standing in the driveway with her hands on her hips trying desperately not to laugh.

Brooklyn got up from her desk and walked to the bedroom. She stood in front of her full length mirror and traced her fingers over the hickeys on her neck. Seriously, hickeys at my age, she thought. Brooklyn could still hear Song’s sweet, seductive voice whispering to her
“Brooklyn, look at me; let me see your eyes. Let me see your face. That beautiful face, ja-gi-ya, ja-gi-ya.”

Her cell phone buzzed, startling her. She checked the caller ID before answering.

“Hello,” she said, trying to contain her excitement.

“Ja-gi-ya, I was just thinking about you. As a matter of fact, I’m a few blocks away from your place and wanted to know what kind of toppings you like?”

“Toppings?” Brooklyn asked.

Song laughed. “Yeah, on your pizza.”

“Oh, umm, black olives, sausage, and absolutely no anchovies.”

“I was hoping you’d say that; I’m not a fan of anchovies either. You pick the movie and I’ll bring the pizza. I hope this isn’t presumptuous of me to assume you’re not busy.”

She laughed. “It is a little presumptuous, but I’ll forgive you, if you bring me food.”

“See you in a bit.”

Chapter 36

Brooklyn leaned against Song’s shoulder dabbing at her eyes with a tissue while they watched the remainder of “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.” She mouthed the words along with Spencer Tracy. ‘The only thing that matters is what they feel, and how much they feel for each other. And if it's half of what we felt-that's everything.’

“How many times have you watched this?” Song asked, as the movie credits began to roll.             

“Too many to count.”

“You already know how it’s going to end, yet it still makes you sad …Fascinating.”

She took a bite of pizza and gently shoved him. “It’s a chick thing, okay!”

Brooklyn stood and began clearing off the coffee table. Song picked up the glasses and followed her into the kitchen. While she rinsed the dishes in the sink, he came up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. He began to trace his tongue up the side of her neck, pressing himself into her. She could feel his arousal growing.

“I can make you forget all about that movie.” His hands slid under her t-shirt and cupped her breasts.

“I bet you can.”

The warm water ran over her hands while Song continued to kiss and lick her neck. He reached and pressed firmly between her legs and she closed her eyes as he applied just enough pressure. She turned the water off and spun around to face him. Reaching for him, she told herself to slow down, to calm down, but she wanted him here and now. Song pulled her t-shirt over her head and licked around the edge of her breasts, taking his time giving each nipple his full attention until he could feel them harden against his tongue. Brooklyn unfastened his pants; they fell around his ankles. He turned her around to face the sink, slid a condom on and was inside her before she knew it. She gripped the edge of the counter while Song moved hard and fast, filling her with every inch of him.

He felt her warmth and moistness surrounding him. Her muscles tightened, squeezing him, urging him to go deeper and deeper. Song moved faster and faster with determination and a ferocious desire and need to release himself.

“Song, I’m going to…” The words caught in Brooklyn’s throat as griped her waist tighter pulling her closer to him. He felt her muscles clamp down and then spasm as she cried out “Song, Song.”

Like a powerful, debilitating electric current, he exploded within her “Ja-gi-ya,” he whispered, his voice quaking.

He gently withdrew himself. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck.” “What was the name of the movie we watched?”

“What?” he said, looking confused.

“You said you would make me forget the movie.”

He laughed and pulled her in for a kiss. He gazed into her eyes and thought… “I can’t be…I can’t be falling in love?”

Chapter 37

Song and Brooklyn showered together and now she was sound asleep; her head resting on his chest while he lie on his back staring at the ceiling fan. He thought back to that moment in the kitchen right after they made love. Looking into her eyes, he felt things stir within him that he didn’t even realize he still possessed. After his wife died, he didn’t’ think it was possible to ever feel that way again. His thought was interrupted by his ringing cell phone. He looked at the clock on the night stand and realized it was three in the morning. He gently eased Brooklyn onto her pillow. She stirred and then went back to sleep. He got of bed and walked over to her vanity and retrieved his phone. He stood there nude staring at the caller ID; it was Mattice. He quickly called him back.

“Mattice, what’s up?”

“Song, I’m at the Nightshade apartments. Anyway, we have a body and the body may belong to the shooter. You better get here right away.” Mattice said, with a serious somber tone.

“I’m on my way, “Song said, but Mattice had already ended the call.

He rushed over and grabbed his boxers and pants off of the bench at the foot of the bed.

Brooklyn sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Song, where are you going?”

“There’s been a break in the case,” he said, as he slipped his jacket on. I don’t have time to explain. I have to go.”

Song walked over to her, leaned down and brushed Brooklyn’s hair back and kissed her forehead.

“Ja-gi-ya, go to sleep. I’ll call you later,” he whispered.