Street Dreams (41 page)

Decker’s smile was slow and wide. “The world runs on coincidences, Mack. So does our business. Would you like to talk to Officer
Decker again?”

“No need. Just tell her that if this tip pans out, I’ll need her for vehicle identification. Then we’ll have to clear her
gun with a shooting team. Once we get the okay from them, she can report back for active duty. That’ll probably come through
day after tomorrow, but when I say to call in at noon, I mean call in at noon.”

“Why are you castigating me? I’m not my daughter’s keeper.”

“I’m not castigating you, Pete; I’m asking you to pass along the message with feeling.”

“Got it.” Decker winked at me. “Thanks for everything, Mack. I’ll remember this.”

“Yeah.” A weary voice. “Fine. Bye.”

Dad hung up the line, then depressed the flash button. “Someone’s beeping in.” He handed me the phone.

“You
tell
me this morning you call by nine. That was
six
hours ago. I call you a dozen times. Where have you been?”

“I’m just fine, Koby. Thanks for asking.”

A pause. He said, “How are you?”

“Tired and nauseated. I’ve been out, but if anyone asks you, I’ve been home sleeping.”

Another pause. “Cynthia, what is going
on?
”

“Nothing.” I softened my voice. “Really. I’m all right. How are
you?
”

“I’m all right, now I know that you’re all right. I don’t know where you are. I was crazy with worry.”

So now you know what it’s like to wait and wonder.
Of course, I didn’t say that. The poor man had been shot at, his car totaled and impounded. He was tired and grumpy and worried
and without a set of wheels. It was not the time to make points. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. Honestly, I was preoccupied and
forgot.”

“You
forgot?
”

“Koby, my father’s here. He’s about to leave. Could you hold for a minute so I can say good-bye to him?”

Another exasperated sigh, but he said he’d hold. I put the receiver down and got up. I smiled at my father. “What can I say,
Decker? Thanks a heap.”

“Anytime.”

Tears suddenly fell from my eyes and streamed down my cheeks. I hugged my father with profound gratitude that went
way
beyond this incident. “I love you.”

He hugged me back with equal enthusiasm. “I love you, too, Princess.”

I finally broke away. Or maybe he broke away. He said, “I’ll let myself out.”

“No, I’ll walk you to the door.” I whispered, “He can wait.”

Dad’s smile was immediate and conspiratorial. As soon as I closed the door and locked it, I plopped down on the couch, phone
in hand. “I’m back. Where are you now?”

“At work.”

“You found a car?”

“Marnie picked me up.”

“
Marnie?
”

“Yes, Marnie. When can we see each other?”

“I guess soon, or Marnie will move in on my territory.”

“
Stop it,
Cynthia! I’m in no mood. She’s engaged to a very nice doctor and it is you who have the key to my house.”

I didn’t answer right away, waiting for him to apologize for snapping at me. He didn’t. So I said, “I’m sorry. The humor is
defensive. I’m still shaken. I’m sure you are as well.”

A loud sigh. “I’m sorry, too. I just want to hear your voice, that’s all.”

“Well, here I am.”

“
Baruch Hashem!
” There was a long silence over the phone. “I
ache
for you. Please. When can we see each other?”

“You tell me.”

“Can you come pick me up after work?”

“Of course, Koby. What time?”

“Eleven.”

“I’ll be there unless I have to do vehicle identification.” I apprised him of the situation.

“That’s incredible!” His voice turned bright. “That is
so
lucky.”

“Yes, it is very lucky,” I told him.

I smiled to myself.

Sometimes you make your own luck.

T
he William Tell Overture
was never my favorite piece to begin with. It was especially obnoxious as a jingle coming from my cell phone. I wanted to
pull the covers over my head and keep sleeping, but because my current work situation was tenuous, I reconsidered. I reached
down to the floor, rooted through my handbag, and came up with the infernal machine.

Koby shifted onto his stomach, then pulled the covers over his head. “Ignore it.”

I depressed the call button. “Hello?”

“It’s Brill.”

I sat up, my heart reminding me I was alive. “What’s going on?”

“Just giving you a heads-up and it’s all good. Shooting team is just about done. You’re fine.”

Suddenly, I could breathe easily. “Oh my God, that’s great! Did Forensics pull anything from the Nova?”

“Lots of prints. We’ll run through the electronic file by midafternoon.”

“Thanks, Justice. That’s a real load off.”

“That’s why I called.”

Koby yanked the covers off and bolted up. My eyes followed his body—upright as well as erect—as he walked to the bathroom.

“Someone will officially call you,” Justice told me. “You want to know where the shots landed?”

“Where?”

“All in the hood of the car, nothing through the windshield. Your aim was good. Except you fired six and the team only recovered
four.”

“I must have shot a couple of wild ones,” I lied.

“Yeah, so long as they didn’t land in the wrong place. So far, so good.”

“Thanks again, Justice. Call me as soon as the prints go through, even if there isn’t a hit.”

A pause. “Maybe we should have that cup of coffee, Decker.”

“Whenever you’re ready to talk about the Sarah Sanders rape case—with Russ MacGregor’s permission, of course—I’m up for it.”

“Yeah, that too. You have the day off. How about a drink when I get off—around six. I should know something about the car’s
prints by then.”

“Can I get back to you? I’ve got to arrange my schedule with my boyfriend. He’s still half-asleep right now.”

“Sure, Decker. Call me back.”

“Thanks, Justice. Bye.”

Koby slithered back into bed. “What schedule are we arranging?”

“Detective Brill wants to talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Prints in the Nova. He’s running them through this afternoon. He suggested talking over drinks when he gets off from work.”

“He asked you
out?
”

“He’s married, Koby.”

“A ring on the finger is not a ring on the gonads.”

“And that’s why I mentioned my boyfriend. He’s not stupid.”

“Are you going?” He sulked.

“I’ll call and find out what popped up on National Register. If it’s legit, yes, I’m going. I’ve been in this position before.
I know these guys and I know how to steer it to business. Our dating makes it that much easier. Plus, Brill’s a superior.
I need a jump start on the Sarah Sanders rape case, and if he can help me, great.”

“There are sexual-harassment laws in this country, you know.”

“He’s not harassing me, he’s throwing out feelers. Don’t worry.”

But his face held resentment. He waited a moment; then his long fingers skittered over my nipples.

“Let me brush my teeth,” I told him. As soon as I returned to bed, he turned to his side and propped himself up onto an elbow.
He took in my nakedness.

“You are so gorgeous.”

I stroked his cheek. “So are you. Please don’t doubt me.”

He brought my hand to his erection. “I don’t doubt you, but I know men.”

My cell went off again.

“Let it
ring,
” Koby snapped.

“It might be important.”

Koby plopped down onto his back, smoldering eyes on the ceiling, and said nothing. This time, it was Rina.

“I just wanted to know when you’re going to pick up the old Volvo.”

“Oh … hold on.” I turned to my bedmate. “When do you want to pick up the Volvo?”

He exhaled loudly. “What time is it?”

“Around nine.”

“I have to be in at three. Twelve, twelve-thirty?”

“How about twelve-thirty?” I asked Rina.

“That’s fine. I’ll see you then.”

I hung up.

“Turn it off,” Koby said. “If it goes again, I will break it.”

I turned it off.

He leaned over and kissed me.

Within moments, there was another annoying jingle—
Für Elise
and it was his phone.

“Oh my God!” he snarled.

“You can answer it,” I told him. “
I
won’t get cranky.”

He glared at me and picked up his phone. “Yes? … Mikal! … Shit!” He sat up. “Sorry, mon, I forgot to call. I can’t come down;
my car’s wrecked. … No, no, I’m fine. Some dude ran a light. … No, it’s totaled, utterly gone. My woman has another set of
wheels. … Her old man does. Look, just run without me today. I see you on Thursday, mon. … When? Saturday? … Maybe. I’ll talk
to the woman. Okay. Bye.”

I stared at him. “When did you become Jamaican?”

“What?”

“Never mind. Talk to me about what?”

“A party Saturday night. Do you want to go?”

“Do you?”

“If you want.” He eyed me hungrily. “I think I’d rather be alone with you.” He put his phone on his nightstand. No sooner
did he lay it down than it rang again. He started to laugh and so did I.

“Go ahead,” I told him.

“Yes?” His voice was hard. “What time? … I can’t. … I can’t. … You’re not hearing me, Marnie, I can’t. I have no car. I have
to pick one up. … I’m picking it up at twelve-thirty, so one-thirty at the earliest. Why not call Lisa? … When? … How long?
… So call up Pat and insist that she come in or you shall report her. You have to control the people on your shift, Marnie.
I keep telling you this. She’s missed more days than all of us together. … I know she’s a single mother, but I have a life,
too. I am sick of covering for her. … No, I am not yelling, I am frustrated!”

He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I know it’s not your fault, but certainly it is not my fault. Look, I try to make it by two. That is the best I can
do. … It’s okay. … I know. … I know you do. … No problem, Marnie. … Yes, I will. … I must go.” He clicked the phone off. “Marnie
says hello.” He lobbed the cell across the room. It didn’t break, but the battery fell out.

He stared at me with appetite. “Shall we try once more?”

“Are you sure you want to attempt this?” I asked him.

“If we don’t, I shall truly be foul.”

“I don’t think I want to see that.”

“It would not be good.”

An hour later, he had done a one-eighty: a completely different man—relaxed and smiling and joking. After we showered, he
insisted on preparing us breakfast. He turned on his stereo, zydeco music pumping out of the speakers. Nifty accordion playing.
I heard him singing along with the vocals.

By the time I had dressed and walked into his kitchen, he was almost done cooking.

“Coffee’s ready.”

“You work fast.”

He kissed me as he poured eggs into a pan sizzling with chopped peppers, tomatoes, and onions. “I set up outside on the patio.
It is a beautiful day.”

“That looks good.”

“Shakshuka.”

“Ethiopian?”

“Israeli. Moroccan, I think. You are depleted. You need protein. We both do.”

“I thought it was good to eat carbs when you’re depleted.”

“No, carbs are for immediate rise in blood sugar. Protein is digested slowly. It does not give you the rush, but you don’t
crash, either. Take the paper and go outside.”

Five minutes later, he brought out food, drink, and my cell phone. He kissed my lips, then sat down. “Ah … this is nice.”
He leaned back in the chair, hands behind his neck. “It is good to breathe.”

I poured a refill of coffee. “Very nice.” I started in on my plate of eggs. “Delicious. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

It wasn’t the first thing he had made for me. He was a good cook—simple dishes but with lots of spice. He favored red chili
flakes. My mouth was burning after a few forkfuls. I washed it down with juice, then sipped coffee. I regarded his face. “Sex
is really important to you.”

He eyed me behind a coffee cup. “Yes … I hope it’s important to you, too.”

“Of course. It just doesn’t seem to … alter my disposition as much.”

“I am very moody. I told you that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“We are reversed, Cynthia. I work with women; you work with men. It is early in the relationship, so I am not so secure. And
with recent circumstances, we’ve been dealing with a lot.”

“I’ve dragged you into a lot of muck. Sorry.”

“If you come with muck, I will take the muck.” He took my hand and kissed it. “When it’s my turn to drag you into muck, then
you will remember this.”

“Fair enough.” I bit into a piece of rye toast and stared at the rosebushes. “Well, since sex seems to be a very big factor
here, for both of us, I guess I could go on the pill. Make it a little more spontaneous.”

His smile was wide. “That would be very nice.”

“You don’t like condoms.”

“No man does. But it’s your body.” He slathered butter onto the bread. “I do what you want.”

“I have no problem with the pill, but if we stop using condoms, you’ve got to be absolutely monogamous.”

“I know.”

“Like one hundred percent. I can’t be worrying about … things.”

“Disease, you mean. I understand, my love. I am thirty-two, not sixteen.”

“I couldn’t even imagine you at sixteen.”

“It never slept.”

I smiled. “So it’s not a problem for you?”

His laughter was musical. “I am
mad
for you, Cynthia. I don’t even
think
about being with another woman. Is it a problem for
you?
”

“Being with another woman?” I shook my head. “Not at all.”

He tossed me a disgusted look.

“No, it’s not a problem.” I smiled. “I’m fine with it.”

“Good. So go see your doctor and give me the prescription. I can probably pick up some free samples for you from one of the
drug companies.”

“At a
children’s
hospital.”

“We treat teenagers.”