“You are something else, chica,” Rafael Sandoval said, leaning back in his chair and cutting another piece of waffle with his fork. “Between your games and your kisses you certainly keep a man on his toes.”
“Hey, on your toes,” Ruby said, chewing on a piece of grapefruit. “That’s one way I don’t think I’ve tried it. Maybe, if you keep on being real nice, we’ll get to see if you can really make me smile. Or scream.”
“Oh, is that all you want me for?”
“Oh, hell no,” Ruby said. “The real reason I’m here is that I love a man who can cook.”
Ruby sat cross-legged in a chair at the dining table, now covered by one of Rafe’s silk robes. Her hair was a riot of disorder. She was feeling about as satisfied as she ever had. The taste of an excellent omelet still haunted her tongue, and the kitchen still smelled of browned butter and sautéed peppers, onions, mushrooms and garlic. She smiled thinking of the warmth in her belly, and the warmth just below it that Rafe had sparked before they decided to cool things down a bit and have brunch.
“You act like no man ever cooked for you before,” Rafe said, reaching to rub the back of her hand. She rewarded him with one of her quick, flashing smiles.
“Truth is, hardly anybody ever cooked for me, sugar. In my house, Mama was always gone and the baby got stuck cooking for the rest.”
Rafe got up to push the button that would start more coffee. There came the grinding sound of coffee beans being pulverized, then the sweet aroma of the new grounds being bathed in hot water.
“So you’re the youngest? And you had to take care of all your sisters? Sounds a little like Cinderella.” Rafe asked.
“Yeah, that’s me. Cinder-fucking-Ella!” Ruby laughed her high-pitched laugh. “You sound like you don’t know nothing about Latin women. I told you I had nine sisters, baby. Eight were ahead of me, and every one of them wanted to sit on their ass or just go partying as soon as there was somebody smaller to boss around. By the time I came along, I had eight bosses. Cooked for that crowd, washed and ironed for them, and cleaned up after their messes. By the time my only younger sister popped out, most of the bigger girls were gone, so she got off pretty easy.”
“You’re putting me on,” Rafe said, pouring coffee into two large white mugs. He added a generous amount of cream to both and padded, barefoot, across the tile floor.
“I wouldn’t kid you, baby.”
Rafe delivered the coffee with a soft kiss and a brief hug. “And what were your parents doing while you were cooking for this crowd?”
“Well daddy, he had had enough by the time number ten came along, so he took off. Guess I was three or four, so I never really got to know the bastard.” Ruby’s smile became more ironic as she realized how easy it was to open herself to this man.
Rafe simply nodded over his coffee mug. “And your mama?”
“Mama, she crazy,” Ruby said, sipping from her own mug. She didn’t know what mix of beans Rafe used, but it was an outstanding cup of coffee. He was certainly an expert in pleasing the senses. Nothing like any drug smuggler she had ever met before.
“Crazy like institutionalized?”
“I should be so lucky,” Ruby said with a derisive snort. “Mama’s never been locked up. If she was, I wouldn’t have to support her. And you’d think she’d get rich between telling fortunes and running her other scams.”
“Oh yes, you said something like that before. She really tells fortunes?”
“Reads the cards, reads the tea leaves, the whole nine yards.”
“Now I know you’re putting me on,” Rafe said, giving a full, deep laugh.
“Yeah, well maybe I’ll introduce you to her sometime.” Ruby stood up and started collecting dishes. “Listen, sweet man, why don’t I clean up in here, then we can get ourselves together and you can drop me home. I gotta get myself some sleep so I can stay awake at work tonight. I got the evening shift.”
“Do you really have to go?” Rafe asked, following her to the sink. “You are so exuberant, and such a great teller of stories. Today’s guests would just love you.”
Ruby’s smile dropped. “Guests? You got company coming?”
“Yes, more of my countrymen will arrive today, and they always stop here for a while. You could help me entertain my guests. Won’t you reconsider?” Rafe brushed Ruby’s hair aside to kiss the side of her neck. She hardly felt it. Her mind was elsewhere.
“Some more Colombians coming into the country today? Why, yes, I think I would love to meet them.”
Paul Gorman knew that there were things Patsy just didn’t understand about him. She didn’t get why it mattered that he arrive at the office at the exact same time every weekday morning. She didn’t see why it was important to put the peanut butter on one slice of bread and the jelly on the other, as opposed to her anarchist habit of putting the jelly on top of the peanut butter and dropping a second slice of bread on that mess. And she could not grasp the reason for a man getting fully dressed on a day when he had no intention of going outdoors.
Well, she could spend the day in her nightgown, and he certainly appreciated that, but he was working today. Even though he was in his home office, he had to be in shoes, slacks and a shirt. She should be happy he didn’t wear a tie. Still, being dressed put him in a different frame of mind for things like the conversation he was in the middle of with Chastity Chiba
“That was an interesting conversation you had with the little girl,” Gorman told the speakerphone. “Did she say anything else of importance?” He was busily rearranging the books on the shelves that lined one wall of his office. Somehow, a couple of his criminology books had gotten mixed in with his forensics texts. While repairing that snafu it occurred to him that alphabetical by title might make more sense than the present ordering by author’s name. The dewey decimal system might not be the right thing for his small library.
“No, the conversation ended pretty soon after that, G.” Chastity’s voice betrayed impatience. “I took her home and watched for a while. I wondered if they were church goers, or if they had any kind of regular weekend activity, you know?”
“Doubtful today,” Gorman said, still shuffling volumes. “Alex went home from the hospital with a prescription for sedatives. He’ll probably be sleeping in today. Like I should be doing.”
“That could be boss. But she sure isn’t. That’s why I’m in Manhattan.”
“You are?”
“I had a feeling Francine might head out for a nooner with Tubby,” Chastity said. “But she didn’t even wait that long. I called you as soon as I parked across from the car dealership.”
“Jesus!” Gorman roared, turning to face the telephone. “You mean she ran out on a Sunday morning to get boned?”
“That’s the way it looks from here,” Chastity answered. “But I want to gather some more incriminating stuff to bust her divorce case. She ought to get nothing when this guy dumps her, and he sure should dump her.”
“And what about the daughter?” Gorman asked.
“That bit’s all a put up job. Amy’s a sweet kid, but she’s confused and she was lying about her father.”
“You’re sure?” Gorman leaned forward on the desk, one fist on either side of the phone. A satisfied smile lit his face.
“Absolutely! Do you know why?”
Of course, he did know, but he said, “Why don’t you tell me, Ms. Chiba.”
“It was her description, boss,” Chastity said, with pride in her voice. “She described her father’s supposed deeds exactly as her mother had, word for word. I think they’ve been practicing their testimony a little too hard. I’m guessing these are the words the shrink gave her.”
“That’s very good, Ms. Chiba,” Gorman said, smiling at the phone. “We’ll make a great detective out of you some day.”
“Sure,” Chastity said, “but for now I need to be a spy and get enough to turn the tables on this lying bitch. I’ll check in later.”
Chastity clicked her cell phone closed and stared across the street at the car dealer’s office. She could only guess what was going on over there, but if her guess were right, she’d have some ammunition no judge could ignore. The sky was overcast, so she adjusted her digital camera accordingly. Then she got out of her car and dashed across into the car lot. The asphalt smelled of oil from poorly maintained cars and Chastity knew she’d have to clean the soles of her Adidas when she got home. The dealership wouldn’t open for a couple of hours so Francine could figure to be undisturbed for a while. That should allow for some fun and games.
Chastity moved to the dealership building and leaned against the wall, beneath the bathroom window. She didn’t need her Bionic Ear to hear the moans and grunts from inside. The sounds were getting louder, but Chastity wanted to wait until she was sure they would be very hard to distract before she took action.
The wait wasn’t long. From above, Chastity heard Francine’s nasal voice. “Oh Marty. Oh God, MARTY! Give it to me now!”
Chastity reached up with her camera, only to realize that she was a couple of inches too short to get a shot through the window. So she turned to face the window and hopped. At the top of her leap, when the camera had cleared the windowsill, she clicked the shot. She landed and froze, but the action inside told her that she had not been heard. Now she needed to check that she had what she needed.
The viewer of her camera showed exactly what she required, as ugly as that was. The picture was a side view showing that Francine did choose to be bent over, but not at the sink. She was holding the toilet tank, her dress rucked up around her waist. Behind her, trousers pooled around his ankles, Marty was giving her the thing that she wanted, with gusto. Francine must have just thrown her head backward when Chastity snapped the shot, because her hair was flying back and her face was clearly visible.
“How attractive,” Chastity whispered to herself. Now she would just make a few more hops, for variety. She would leave the car lot with plenty of pictures to choose from. They could all be evidence in court, or they could always be used as a rather disturbing flipbook. Or maybe as a gift for Francine’s parents.