Nickel City Crossfire by Gary Ross (children's books read aloud TXT) 📕

Phoenix chuckled. “The airfare won’t come from this case. It’s a long way off, but I think I can get away from things near the end of next month.” She cocked her head and studied me a moment. Then she smiled. “Of course, I could be making a mistake. Tia Rosita likes younger men, especially dark, good-looking men with broad shoulders.”

“A cougar,” I said. “As long as you’re with me I can be strong.”

“More like a snow leopard since her hairstylist died.” She leaned forward on her elbows and locked eyes with me. “But Tia’s still pretty hot for a woman in her seventies.”

“No surprise if she shares DNA with you.”

“Think Rita Moreno.”

“Oh.” I shrugged. “That’s different. Can she cook?”

Laughing, Phoenix kicked me under the table.

Later, after we had made love in the elevated queen-sized bed that occupied the front left corner of her Pearl Street loft, I lay awake, thinking. Naked, I was on my left side, facing the tall window that Phoenix seldom covered because she so enjoyed the eleventh-floor view and pulsing lights of downtown. Though I usually preferred total darkness for sleep, I’d come to appreciate the way outside lights played off the hues of our bodies during lovemaking, especially the way they caught the colors of Phoenix’s mythical namesake rising from the ashes in the tattoo that masked her mastectomy scars. But tonight, as she drifted off to sleep while spooning me, her right arm around my torso, the lights were the last thing on my mind.

I remained still to keep from waking her, but my mind was bouncing off the walls of my skull. The more I thought about the men in the Navigator, the more convinced I was they were looking for Keisha—why, I thought I would learn soon enough. What Phoenix hadn’t asked, and what I hadn’t even wondered till I was lying there within spitting distance of sleep but unable to reach it, was why they had followed me in the hope of finding her. Whoever they were, they knew I had been hired to investigate her disappearance. Figuring out how they had come by that information might be the key to everything.

Minutes earlier Phoenix had jerked as if stumbling in her sleep and shifted onto her back. Now I felt her fingertips on my shoulder at the exact spot where scar tissue from my recent gunshot wound surgery was building layer upon layer.

“Is this still tender?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“A bit, and it itches.” Turning onto my back, I twisted to see her face in the light. Lower lip caught between her teeth, she looked distressed. I felt for her hand, squeezed it. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I was dreaming, about a man with a gun jumping out of the shadows.”

“As if he were waiting for you to get close to him.”

“Yes.”

“So you thought about me getting shot.”

“Yes.”

“You’re concerned it could happen again.”

“Not concerned. Afraid. Afraid for you.” The fingers of her free hand slid through my chest hair as if making sure I were real and not a trick of the outside lights.

“While Bobby’s away, I’m in charge of the apartment building.”

“Stop that.” She twisted my nipple, lightly.

“Ow! Stop what?”

“You know.” She took a breath. “So, those men in that SUV. How did they know you were looking for Keisha?”

“I was just wondering that myself. It’s amazing how our minds—”

“Gideon, don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t deflect. A joke about Bobby being away. A cute comment about how alike we are. I know we’re alike in a lot of ways and we’re good together but that’s not the issue.”

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, but I wonder if I should worry while you’re looking for this woman.” She swallowed audibly. “We’re just starting, and I don’t—”

“I worry about you all the time,” I said.

“But I don’t do the work you do.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve become a constant in my life. Life is full of unexpected kicks in the groin.” I almost added and nipple twists but figured another try at humor would just fail. “Worry is part of the deal. But I’ll be careful if you’ll be careful. That’s part of the deal too. I promise I’ll look over my shoulder if you promise to stop talking on your cell when you cross the street.”

She caught a few of my chest hairs between her fingers and pulled. “It’s not the same.”

“No, it’s not. I think you stand a better chance of getting hit by a turning car than I do of getting shot again.”

“Gideon, I look before crossing.”

“I know you do. Just as you should know I always try to be aware of my surroundings and any people nearby. I’m not ready to clock out yet. I like breathing as much as the next guy, and I look forward to more nights like this with you. So trust me to be alert.”

She was quiet for a few seconds. “I like how you breathe.”

“Now who’s being cute?”

She threw a leg over my legs, tightened her arm around my chest, and kissed me. “I am.”

5

Friday morning we made love again and showered together before we took the elevator down to the underground parking garage, where our cars were side by side. Kissing me goodbye and opening the door of her white RAV4, Phoenix said she would see me Saturday night when I picked her up for the county bar association holiday party.

I got home a few minutes past eight and popped a K-cup into the Keurig on my kitchen counter. Then I set out the file folder I’d taken from Keisha’s place and my pocket notebook. A few minutes later, seated on a bistro chair and sipping from a BuffaloPlace mug, I opened the notebook to the pages with the names of Keisha’s friends and associates. The question was who to interview first. At the top of the list were Odell’s parents, Carl and Rhonda Williamson, but I decided to save them for last in the