Shadows Fall (12 page)

“What the
fuck
, man?” Riot screeched.

“I’m
so
sorry,” Charlie said to Riot, then he glanced over at me. His mouth fell open when he saw how I was—
not
—dressed, and I could feel the heat from his gaze across the room. Shit, forgot to cover up, but I wasn’t going to pretend I was sorry.

“Sorry,” he said again, addressing Riot but staring at me. “I thought you were an intruder.”

“An intruder—”

“You said you weren’t coming home before your shift,” I interrupted. “Charlie stayed the night to make sure I was safe.”

Riot deflated a little but cast a wary look at Charlie as he slipped by him to take off his shoes. “Oh, you’re that cop that comes into Uptown sometimes. Wait…safe? Why wouldn’t you be safe here?”

“God, maybe if you answered your phone once-in-a-fucking-while, you’d know,” I grumbled.

“Sorry, dude, you know how I get when I’m working. Okay, fucking,” he said with a grin and pulled out his phone.

Charlie made a choking sound behind us, and we both turned to look at him. “Well, if Riot is here now, I should probably head out,” he said. He walked over to the sofa bed to put on his shirt and shoes.

“You don’t
have
to go,” I said, knowing that it was too soon for Charlie to be with me and be around other people at the same time. I hoped he’d prove me wrong, but I was sure he wouldn’t. “You could hang with us for a bit.”

“Holy shit, Titus. Twelve missed calls? Here, I’ll listen to the voicemails so you don’t have to say all that shit again.” He tapped a couple of buttons on his phone and then held it up to his ear. I watched as his eyes got increasingly wider and his mouth dropped open.

Charlie ran a hand through his messy hair and edged toward the door. “Nah, it looks like you’re gonna have some ’splaining to do, Lucy,” Charlie said. His smile and attempt at a joke made me feel a little bit better about how he was trying to sneak out the door. “’sides, I gotta check in with the station and see what’s on our plate for the day.”

“A body? Like a
dead body?”
Riot exclaimed.

I ignored him. “Sure, I get it. Thanks for staying with me. I mean it.” I tried to convey with my eyes just how happy I was that he stayed over, and how I’d like to do it again very soon.

“My pleasure,” he answered with a secret smile just for me. He may have been embarrassed and confused, but I could tell that he’d enjoyed our night together. “I’ll see ya ’round the shop.” He opened the door and slipped out, closing it behind him softly.

“Bye, Charlie,” I whispered. I turned around and leaned back against the door, closing my eyes.

“Dude,” Riot said to get my attention.

I opened my weary eyes and looked at him in question.

“We’ll get to the dead body in a minute. But seriously, did you bag that hot cop?”

I held out my hand palm down and wiggled it back and forth in the universal sign of ‘kinda.’ “It’s complicated.”

Grabbing me by the wrist, Riot led me over to the sofa bed that still smelled like Charlie, and pushed me down on it. “You’re gonna tell me everything right now. Hang on, I’ll go make popcorn, this is like fucking Law & Order.”

Chapter Nine

It had been almost forty-eight hours since Charlie had taken me home, and I still hadn’t heard from him. I was trying not to worry, trying to convince myself that his job was so busy, it was normal for him to go off the grid. It had nothing to do with him being skeeved out over rubbing off with another guy for the first time.

Friday was always a busy day at the shop, and we were shorthanded, so I didn’t really have a lot of time to dwell on Charlie anyway. Though, under duress, I may have admitted to checking my phone every five minutes for a call or text.

I was facing the back counter, blending a frappe and listening to the conversation between two customers that were taking their sweet time to order. I could practically hear Riot’s teeth grinding over at the register. It was two men, one elderly and the other in his teens, having a discussion about what the older man should—or shouldn’t—order.

“Papaw, you know the doctor said you wasn’t supposed to have coffee anymore. Remember your blood pressure,” the teenager was saying.

“Shut the fuck up, boy. Respec’ your elders. I’ll order what I damn well please.”

I had to slap a hand over my mouth and squeeze my eyes shut to keep from laughing out loud. These good ole Southern old-timers sure did have a way with words.

“Fine, old man! But if you get coffee, I’mma tell Mama and she’ll be on your ass till Kingdom come.”

There was a silence wherein I assumed the old man was considering the threat. I heard him heave a wheezy sigh then grumble something that sounded like ‘decaf.’ Then the kid ordered an iced coffee, and Riot let out an audible breath when he was finally able to take their money and get them out of the line.

The bells on the door jingled, and I looked over my shoulder to see Chelsea hustling towards us. She didn’t have as much makeup on as usual, and her brown hair was a tangled nest that was standing up at all angles.

“You’re late,” I observed.

“Jesus!” Riot said when he got a look at her. “Don’t you own a brush? Or a mirror? You look like a buffalo.” Riot was never one to pull punches.

I snickered, and Chelsea scowled at the both of us. After she went in back to go wash up and grab an apron, she came back into the command center, still with that nasty look on her face. “You’re an asshole,” she said to Riot. “Fucking Jay brought a bunch of friends over to mine and Andrea’s place, and we couldn’t make them leave. I only went to bed like three hours ago.”

“I’m sorry Chelse,” I said, not without sympathy. “But we’ve all told you that guy is bad news. You’ve gotta get your shit together. That’s all I’m going to say about it.”

“Fine. Let’s just work, okay?”

She went out into the lounge area to refill all of the dispensers and wipe down the counters and tables. I finished the drink I was making for the reluctant decaf-drinker and then discreetly checked my phone again—no messages.

“That hot cop you fucked still ain’t called you?” Riot asked in a low voice so the customers couldn’t hear.

“Okay, first of all, we didn’t
fuck
. Second, I’m not sitting around waiting for him to call like some teenage girl in a vampire novel. And third… no.”

He grunted at me with a smirk. “Well if you don’t care that much, maybe I’ll take a shot at it. That ass could launch a thousand ships.”

I whirled around, brandishing a pair of scissors I’d just used to cut open a new bag of coffee. “Bitch, I will cut you.”

I was just messing with him, mostly, but nevertheless, my reaction caused Riot to howl with laughter. I knew he was kidding; he’d never mess around with a guy I was interested in, but it still forced me to confront the fact that maybe I was more into Charlie than I wanted to be.

Once again back behind the counter, Chelsea reached across me for a measuring cup, making sure she rubbed her breasts on my arm on the way over. “So T, I hear you’re makin’ it with that cop who threw Jay out of here the other day.”

I flung my hands up in the air in frustration. “Jesus
Christ
, you two are worse than a couple of biddies at the beauty shop. Why are you so interested in my sex life?”

Chelsea smiled wickedly and waggled her eyebrows at Riot. “Sex life,” she said to him, then formed a silent ‘oooh’ with her mouth.

Shaking my head at their antics, I wiped the counter where I’d spilled some coffee grounds and started to head back into the stock room to take inventory. Just as I was about to go through the back door, I heard Chelsea’s murmured words.

“God, check out Tall, Dark, and Sexy who just walked in. I’d climb him like a tree if he gave me half a chance.”

I instantly thought of Charlie because my selective hearing edited out the ‘dark’ part, so I was disappointed when I turned around. The guy was indeed hot, but he wasn’t really tall. He was my height, but I guess to someone who was five-foot-nothing like Chelsea, he probably would seem tall.

He was dressed in gray slacks and wore a black polo over his thickly muscled shoulders. Shorter and a bit stockier than Charlie, the man had a swarthy complexion that spoke of Latin roots. His thick black hair was slicked back away from an angular face and was curling at his collar.

And I swore I knew him from somewhere. For the life of me, I couldn’t place him, but he was familiar—more so than just a customer. His dark eyes scanned the room, much like Charlie often did, and when they landed on me, I saw a flash of recognition in them. There was no doubt in my mind that he was here for me.

He stepped up to the counter without breaking eye contact. “Mr. McGinty?” he asked. He had no foreign accent to speak of, but he also didn’t have a Southern one.

“Yes?” I answered, eyeing him suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Detective DeRossi.” He yanked out a chain that had been hidden beneath his polo that had a shield hanging from it—his identification.

Suddenly I remembered where I’d seen him; the crime scene, Charlie’s partner, Sonny. I figured he must’ve come about the investigation, but I had no idea if he knew about Charlie and me having been acquainted before the murder. “Yeah, hi. What’s up? There a problem?”

The detective gave me a hard, unreadable stare before pulling a notebook out of his pocket and flipping through it. “I wanted to do a follow-up interview with you about the incident the other night. There were some…holes in your account of what happened.”

What the hell?
“Holes? I just found the guy, end of story. It’s not exactly a novel.” My heart started beating wildly, even though I knew I had no real reason to fear the police. I was a law-abiding business owner—it wasn’t as if I’d killed the guy myself. “Where’s Charlie? Does he know about this?”

DeRossi narrowed his eyes at me. “
Detective Hale
is following up on another lead,” he said, ignoring my other question which meant that, no, Charlie didn’t know about it. “Would you rather talk to me now, or would you like to come down to the station.”

If he wanted to be all businesslike and shit, two could play that game. “Mr. DeRossi, this is my place of business. I have customers, and I’m sure they wouldn’t appreciate hearing about murder over their morning coffee. I’ll talk to you at the station.”

“Your call,” he said and slowly backed away from the counter. “Thanks for your time. And Mr. McGinty?”

“Yes?”

“Make it soon.”

I gave him a mock salute before he ordered his coffee from Chelsea, and I tried to make myself look busy; I didn’t want to talk to Sonny DeRossi anymore. When I looked up, he was over at the other side of the counter waiting for his drink.

Checking my phone again, my stomach flipped when I saw a message from Charlie’s number.

Sorry havnt called. Work is crazy. Want 2 see you.

I put my fist in front of my mouth so that everyone standing around wouldn’t notice my giant grin. Then I thought about the last time Charlie had asked me out, so to speak. The only options I’d given him were the shop or my house, and then he’d backpedaled. I wasn’t sure what he was expecting, so I texted him back.

What did you have in mind?

I hated text-speak; I couldn’t help it. My texts were always grammatically correct. I waited for a response, but when one didn’t come immediately, I started helping Chelsea make drinks, the inventory forgotten. After a few minutes my phone chirped at me, making me jump.

Pizza & beer. Ur place, 7ish?

Grinning again, I was absurdly pleased that he remembered my special needs, even though I was ashamed of them. I did some quick calculations in my head, figuring out when I’d get off and how quickly I could get in and out of the police station. I didn’t want that shit between us when I saw Charlie again. Finally I answered him.

Sounds good. Make it 8?

He replied immediately that that would be fine. I felt giddy with anticipation, and I floated around the command center for a while, doing meaningless tasks and daydreaming.

“What’s with you?” Riot asked finally.

“I have a date,” I answered with a crooked smile.

“Nice,” he said.

“Lucky,” Chelsea called from the back.

I just laughed, because they were both right. My smile faded when DeRossi got up from the table he’d been sitting at and wandered over to the counter. I wasn’t sure if he’d heard our murmured conversation, but at least I knew he didn’t know I was talking about his partner.

“Can I get a refill?” he asked Chelsea. She took his cup back over to the brewer to fill it up. He stared at me while he waited. I stared right back. Then we all looked over when the bells jangled again, wondering what Fortune would bring us next.

The woman who came through the door was tiny and rail thin. Her posture was slightly hunched, and her dark caramel skin was weathered. Long salt and pepper hair was braided and tossed over one shoulder, and gaudy gold sovereign earrings dangled from her ears. Though she was dressed innocuously in ‘mom jeans,’ a Motley Crüe T-shirt, a blue headscarf, and twenty year old Reeboks, her black eyes were shrewd and calculating. She clutched her patchwork hobo bag to her chest like she’d just stepped into a room full of thieves.