Page 9 of Dirty Deeds


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“It’ll get awful sooner rather than later in this kind of heat,” Jack said. “We appreciate the fans.”

“Not a problem. People were happy to donate them for Leon.”

Will and Joe went out onto the front steps and collected the box of supplies and the fans. When they came back in there was a woman with them, and the heat in the room went up by about a hundred degrees.

There were some people who exuded raw sex appeal from their every pore. It hovered around them—a sway of the hips or a toss of long dark hair—a flirtatious look from exotic eyes the color of coal or lips lush and full enough to make every man in the room wonder what she could do with them.

She was the kind of woman that made other women want to hate her on sight. A cobalt blue sarong was tied loosely at her hips, showing impossibly long legs. And two triangles of fabric in the matching color covered the most perfect breasts I’d ever seen.

“I brought the laptop and scanner you asked for,” she said. I was surprised to hear she didn’t have a hint of an accent. “Where do you want me to set things up?”

Even her voice sounded like sex. I snuck a glance at Jack and he winked at me, taking a drink of his bottled water and then passing it to me. I trusted Jack with everything—including my life. But I had to admit it was a nice feeling to not see him react to her the way the other two men were. I wouldn’t have blamed him. Even I wanted to stare.

Jack had once told me that I was his fantasy. I’d been skeptical at the time. I’d never paid much attention to my looks or put a lot of effort into them. But I knew I was above average as far as attractiveness. I had good bones and skin, and my eyes were an unusual shade of gray. I was slim of hip and breast, more of an athletic build than anything on my five foot eight inch frame, but Jack didn’t seem to mind my lack of curves, and I’d stopped wishing for them once I realized I could shop right off the rack and never had to try on clothes before I bought them.

The testosterone in the room was so thick I could almost taste it, and Joe looked like he was about two seconds from marking his territory and howling at the moon. Will was still young enough he wouldn’t have a clue what to do with a woman like that. His mouth was still hanging open.

“Thanks, Camille,” Joe said. “You can use my desk.”

“You got it.” She moved around the two men, impervious to their stares, and went to setting up the equipment on Joe’s desk.

I found it interesting that Joe didn’t bother to introduce Camille to us like he had Will.

She glanced in our direction, and her gaze settled a little longer on Jack than I was comfortable with. But then she noticed the silver band on his ring finger and shrugged as her attention turned to me. And then her gaze traveled to Leon and rested there.

“My grandma told me someone killed Leon. She was at Mass right before it happened.” Camille crossed herself and went back to setting up the scanner and modem so we had internet access. “She said she was surprised no one had done it sooner.”

“Your grandma didn’t care for Leon?” Jack asked.

Joe opened his mouth to say something, but Jack gave him a look and he closed it again.

“Grandma doesn’t much care for anyone who isn’t blood related, and even half of those she’s not too fond of. About forty years ago she and Leon had a run in at the market over the last of the fresh chicken. They haven’t been on speaking terms since.”

“Did your grandmother see Leon at the church?”

“Yeah, she said he was at the three o’clock Mass and that he must have had a lot of sins because he took forever in the confession with Father Fernando. And then she said he sat right in the front pew of the church like he was trying to get in good with God since he would probably die soon.”

“What about after Mass? Did she see him leave the church?”

“She didn’t say, but when Father Fernando discovered Leon’s body and called out for help she went to the courtyard with most of the other parishioners who were still there.”

“What about Leon’s wife?” I asked. “Where was she during all this?”

“Maria has become somewhat of a recluse over the past several months,” Joe said. “She had pneumonia about a year ago and never quite bounced back from it. She only goes to Sunday Mass now. Leon or her children do her errands for her.”

Will had set up the box fans and plugged them in, and the breeze felt like heaven against my overheated skin. Joe handed me the box of supplies and I took them into the cell. I’d already set up a tray next to the body so I could work more efficiently.

“Thanks for your help, Will,” Joe said, dismissing the younger man. He took some money out of his wallet and passed it over. “Tell your dad thanks. And you and your friends try to stay out of trouble tonight. You put me in an awkward situation having to answer why I’ve never ticketed you for a drunk and disorderly.”

Will’s face flushed red and his fists bunched at his sides. “If it puts you in that awkward of a position just give me a ticket next time.” He didn’t look at any of us as he left the police station and slammed the door behind him.

“Poor Will,” Camille said, clicking her tongue. “You embarrassed him. We’ve all been that age. If you don’t get a little drunk and disorderly from time to time you’re not living life.”

“He’s young and stupid with it. Hopefully he’ll grow out of it and settle down.

“Oh, lighten up, Joe. As I recall, you were once young and stupid with it too. There’s something to be said about being young though, wouldn’t you say?” She looked up and winked. “The young always have a lot of energy and…enthusiasm. Remember?”

It was Joe’s turn to flush red with embarrassment, and I felt a little like a voyeur. But then Camille smiled and I suddenly felt sorry for any man who happened to cross paths with her.

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