“Yeah, crazy story. I’ll tell you all about it tonight over wine and pizza?”
“Yummy. I can’t wait. You’re meeting me and China at the courthouse later this afternoon right?”
“Four o’clock, right? I’ll be waiting for you.” His voice turned seductive. “Then after that, we can head to your house and get down to real business.”
“Bring your handcuffs, Detective.”
His eyes brightened and his eyebrows nearly touched his hairline. “¡Ay, caramba! No hay problema, seniorita.”
Elizabeth pushed the foam container to the other side of the picnic table and grabbed her belly. “Oh my God. I can’t believe you talked me into eating that. Those were the best BBQ ribs I’ve ever had in my life. I think I’m going to vomit; I ate too much.”
He smiled at her satisfaction. “At least it’s Friday and you don’t have too much time left at the office. Just make sure you rest up before tonight.” Biting his bottom lip he smiled.
Flickering her eyebrows at him she assured him, “My nap is already planned.” She looked around the park before turning her gaze to the lake in front of them. “I never even knew this little gem was here.”
Taking the last bite of coleslaw, he closed the lid on his container and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Well, it used to be until the city kicked him out for not having a permit. I had to call in a favor for a friend.” Hearing footsteps on the grass behind them, Martinez turned around to see Miles approaching. “Speak of the dirty devil.”
“Sup, Martinez?” He stood there with his hands in the pockets of his baggy jean shorts, his Dallas Cowboy’s jersey hanging loosely over them. “I guess white folk like BBQ after all?”
Standing to greet him properly, Martinez said. “Indeed, my friend,” and solidified it with a fist pump. He turned to Elizabeth introducing her. “Miles, this is Elizabeth Strong. Liz, I give you Miles Murphy.”
Stroking his chin and nodding his head while he grinned, he looked her up and down. “That’s what’s up, lil’ sista.”
Martinez scowled and clenched his teeth causing his cheek to twitch.
Stepping back Miles dropped his hand from his chin. “Oooh, it’s like that? I gotchu. My o-po-lo-gies.” He offered his fist. “Nice-to-meet-you, Miss-Strong.”
Elizabeth giggled and pumped his fist. “It’s nice to meet you, Miles.”
He dropped his hand and began waving it in front of him. “Hey now, I’m the Medicine Man. Whatever your ailment-”
With censure in his tone, Martinez quickly corrected him. “It’s Miles, Liz. Just Miles.”
Backing up, he understood. “I gotchu, okay. I’m just gon’ wait over here.”
Giving him a nod, Martinez told Elizabeth, “I gotta take care of this and then I have to head out to Mansfield. I’m glad the arraignment went well this morning. Now you can take a little break.” He grabbed her hand.
Letting a deep breath out, she had an air of calm and confidence, which he liked. “Sort of. Next week I need to begin preparing the family for trial.”
“For right now just chill” His tone had a degree of warmth and concern. “You know, I am really proud of you for going to court yesterday and how well you handled yourself. You did the right thing.”
Her eyes like sapphire, peered up at him. “Thank you for lunch. For everything.”
Kissing her on the forehead, he promised, “We’ll pick this up later tonight. Okay?” Then he watched her as she left.
Miles walked up next to him. “Da-yum! Marti-nez, you da man.”
Scratching his five-o’clock shadow he said, “Watch it, Miles.” The two of them continued to watch Elizabeth walk to her car across the street. She turned back, her blonde hair gleaming in the sun. She smiled at them and waved. “Wave to her, Miles.” He obliged with an out of character, Steve Urkle smile and wave. Once she was in her car, Martinez asked him, “What do you got for me?”
“Ma-aaaan this shit be tight! I ain’t even playin’ wit you.” He planted his fist in the palm of his other hand.
Frustrated, Martinez placed his hands in his front pockets, titled his head in disbelief and said, “Come on, Miles.”
“Look, bro, I’m serious. You know how hard it is to find a mole?” His arms moved in waves as he explained. “You start goin’ down one tunnel and it jus’ lead to another. This shit go wa-aay back. But my sources tell me, it started somewheres in the county’s beloved drug-task-force.” His tone and facial expression set off an alarm.
Martinez stiffened and shifted his mahogany eyes to Miles.
Tightening his lips together, he muttered, “Mmm hmm. Ima need some time.” Walking away from Martinez, Miles turned his attention away from him to avoid a fallout. “Ay, yo, Mr. Henry!” He pointed at Martinez. “You owe him a lunch, my man!” Then he strutted to his tricked out Cadillac, without giving Martinez a second glance.
Arriving in Mansfield just after two o’clock, Martinez rolled onto the prison grounds. He checked in with the guard, who directed him to the release gate. Circling around the prison, he drove down the long road to the gate and parked off to the side, waiting as he repeatedly checked his dash for the time. Within ten minutes, he heard the sound of the alarm indicating the oversized double steel door to the prison was opening. “Right on time,” he said aloud to himself. He exited the vehicle and stood on the passenger side, leaning against the door and propping one foot up under his butt with his arms crossed, his chest protruding overtop of them.
A guard stood on either side as one of them gave directions to the prisoner standing in between them. A military green colored bag was strapped around his shoulder. He walked forward until ordered to halt. The guards walked to meet him a few feet from behind before the steel doors shut behind them. Again, the guard gave him instructions. He pushed a red button the size of his hand and the
