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"Okay then. How do you want to get it to me?"
"It's on the counter. Should only take no more than fifteen or twenty minutes...if you don't mind?"
Feeling surprisingly less drowsy than expected I agree.
Frank gives me a handshake and then scales the steps to get some shut-eye.
Meanwhile, I sit down and get to work, thumbing through the pages he's seemed to dig up on this lawyer guy.
My eyes narrow as I try and think if I can place him or his law firm. I can't, and a quick Google search on my phone brings up nothing.
"Who does this guy know? Who's his connection and is this guy just loaded with corruption or is it limited to some sort of Robin Hood vendettas?"
I feel a tap on my shoulder followed by, "Hey. Whatcha doin?"
My mind was completely focused on the task in front of me, but it switches on a dime the second that little finger prods my uniform.
I turn in my seat to find Flor there, fresh out of the pool, dripping from head to toe, her white bikini more transparent than I realized, leaving little to the imagination. Very, very little.
"Flor," I growl, turning my head away, but she playfully jumps to the side where I cock my head, trying to stay in my line of sight.
"What?" she shrugs, damn near falling out of her top.
Lowering my gaze I try to do the right thing, but when I look up ever so slightly and see her chest, all bets are off.
"About last night…," she begins.
Now, this is something I can work with. "About last night," I repeat, lifting my gaze to meet hers.
"What do you want to know?"
"What do I want to know? At this point, we know very little. Why you were there? Who you were with? How he managed to escape out the back and if he could run out the back why did you two bother breaking in in the first place?"
"How badly do you want to know?" she asks, sliding her index finger inside her mouth.
"Come on, Flor. I'm your dad's best friend. You know nothing-"
She steps in front of me, taking that finger out of her mouth and moving it vertically, putting it over my lips. "Nothing has to happen. Only what you don't want to happen." She pauses, and I know that whatever she has planned is a terrible idea. "Come on," she says. "Maybe some of the stuff in my room will give you some clues." She grabs me by the hand and yanks, but I'm too big.
"Why don't you just bring it down and we can look at it here on the table?"
"It might have fingerprints. I probably shouldn't touch it."
"You have stolen goods in your room?" She doesn't reply so I continue. "If you do, you haven't thought about taking them down to the station, like a responsible citizen?"
"Maybe I didn't steal them, and maybe they don't have my prints on them."
Damn, curiosity really did kill the cat, and that swimsuit is clouding my judgment in all ways except one...turning me into a hungry lion that needs to pounce. Now.
"Show me the way." I stand and follow her up the stairs, knowing this is not a good idea.
Not. At. All.
