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The table chuckled as the waitress retreated, leaving Harris to deal with the men on her own. On the one hand, the half-full restaurant eased her mind. On the other, she didn’t like the idea of cutting herself off from her escape route by entering the room.
She scanned the faces around the table. She didn’t recognize anyone except for Aguilar, which meant Gibson wasn’t here. Was Aguilar covering for him, distracting Harris while he escaped out the back? Harris leaned back to scan the restaurant again. She didn’t see the man anywhere.
Harris returned her gaze to Aguilar. He’d dressed in a burgundy suit with a navy shirt underneath. She could just make out a white paisley pattern from her vantage point. It looked good on him. Then again, no one had ever tried to argue he was anything other than handsome. With his tailored suits, his bronze skin, and his perfect stubble, Francisco Aguilar turned heads wherever he went.
The worst part was, he knew it. Aguilar’s arrogance had gained him everything he’d ever wanted in life, from his home-grown shipping business to the loyalty of his men to the affection of his women. While Harris had never met him face to face before, she had met men like him. Their confidence was intoxicating. You gave them what they wanted because they expected it from you. Disappointing them never even crossed your mind.
“Please, sit.” Aguilar motioned to one of his men, who stood and held the chair out for her.
“No thanks.”
“I insist.”
“That’s too damn bad.”
The mood in the room shifted. Harris could feel it in the way the hairs on her arms stood on end. No one made any quick movements, but each of the men at the table imperceptibly tilted their heads as if to ask Aguilar if he wanted one of them to take care of her.
Aguilar smiled, and though it seemed genuine, she could feel the power behind it. Was he annoyed by her defiance, or impressed? Was he willing to risk getting his hands dirty to make a point, or would he let it go?
Harris banked on the fact that Aguilar was smart, and it paid off. He sat down and folded his hands in front of him. “Suit yourself.”
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
Harris rolled her eyes. Folded her arms. “I’ve decided you’re not an idiot, Mr. Aguilar. I hope you can do me the same courtesy.”
His smile broadened. “Fair enough, Detective Harris. For clarification’s sake, I assume you’re looking for Mr. Gibson?”
“Correct.”
“He’ll join us in a moment.” Aguilar nodded to the man on his left, who stood and left the room. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit?”
“I’m sure.”
For the first time, Aguilar looked less than bemused by her attitude. “I was sorry to hear about Detective Klein. I sent flowers to his wife on the day of the funeral. He wasn’t young, of course, but it’s still a tragic loss for the community.”
Harris ground her teeth together. “Cut the bullshit.”
“I promise you I’m not bullshitting.” The man on his right smirked, and even Aguilar’s mouth twitched up at the corners. “I’m going to miss David. What happened to him was unfortunate for all of us.”
Before Harris could form a retort, the man who’d left earlier returned with another man in tow. This newcomer was taller and leaner, but that’s not what caught Harris’ attention. A bandage wound its way around his forearm, and blood seeped through his shirt from a shoulder wound.
If Harris had any doubt Gibson was the guy who’d attacked her, it was gone now.
“Stanley Gibson.” She pulled her handcuffs out. “You’re under arrest for aggravated assault of an officer of the law.”
Gibson didn’t run. He didn’t resist. In fact, he turned around and put his arms behind his back. Harris only hesitated for a moment before wrapping the metal cuffs around his wrists. She ratcheted them closed tight enough to make the man grunt, but he didn’t say a word of protest.
Now that Harris had Gibson in custody, she felt like there was a shield between her and Aguilar. She turned to face the man. “Why are you doing this?”
“Mr. Gibson and I talked.” Aguilar’s voice was somber, but it sounded practiced. “He had a change of heart. He regrets his actions. He wants to turn his life around.”
“Is that so?”
Gibson finally decided to speak for himself. “It is.”
“See? He’s already on the road to reformation.”
