Fifth Grave Past the Light Page 51

His mouth tilted and a dimple emerged on one cheek as I took his wrist and threw him against a wall. Or, well, urged him toward it. I held him against the cool wood with one hand and frisked him with the other. Slowly. Deliberately caressing parts of him I had no right to caress in public. I ran my hand over his bu**ocks, caressed first one pocket, then the other. Then I slid my hand under the apron and did the same to his front pockets. He tensed when my fingers brushed across his crotch. Feeling the heat surrounding him magnify, I ran my palms down his thighs, front and back, then up over his stomach and ribs. I had no idea frisking could be so fun. Thankfully, we were partially hidden by a rubber tree plant.

Though I wasn’t doing it to make anyone jealous, the lethal glares coming from half the women in the place told me they were not as amused as I was. Or Reyes. At least he got my sense of humor. And he didn’t mind my groping him in public. Welcomed it, if the sultry look in his eyes was any indication.

The man stood back, not sure what to think. That was my secret weapon. Confuse ’em and keep ’em guessing long enough to run away.

I brought out the most powerful tool I had in my arsenal. “If you resist,” I said into Reyes’s ear, “I’ll be forced to Taser you.”

He looked at what I had in my hand. “That’s a phone.”

“I have an app. You’ll probably experience nerve damage. Slight memory loss.”

His grin widened. He reached back, took hold of a belt loop, and pulled my h*ps into his.

Finally deciding to join in, Uncle Bob walked over, his gait unhurried, his expression bored. “What’s the problem?”

I held up a hand. “I have this, Detective.”

Just then I got another text from Cookie.

Apparently my situational awareness sucks.

Oh, my god. I was busy groping my man. I texted her back.

Apparently, so does your timing.

I looked back at Reyes. “Have you learned your lesson, sir?”

I could feel a wave of jealousy swirl around me like a hot wind. After all, he was the reason the place was drowning in women. If looks could kill, I would have been writhing in agony, well on my way to the afterlife, clutching my throat and fighting for air with one eye slightly larger than the other.

Another woman said, “You can’t arrest Reyes because this bee-yoch is obsessed with him.” They knew his name even? I was always the last to know.

“Oh, right,” I said, letting him go. “She has a point.”

Reyes leaned into me. “No, she doesn’t.”

The man decided to take his life into his own hands and grab my arm. “Do you think this is funny?”

“Is that a trick question?”

But I realized Reyes had stilled. He stepped closer and pulled me out of the man’s grip. “You don’t want to do that.”

“Look, sir,” I said, now trying to appease two angry men, “this is clearly a conversation you need to be having with your wife. And just so you know, half the people in this place are cops.”

Surprised, he turned to scan the area.

But Reyes was still simmering. He stepped even closer to the man so only we could hear him. “I’m not a cop. And I just got out of prison for killing a man. If you want to go outside, I can explain exactly how I did it.”

The color drained from his face.

“Zimmerman,” Uncle Bob said, calling out to one of the uniformed officers, “why don’t you take this gentleman outside and convince him that what he just did was wrong.”

“But I’m eating,” Zimmerman said. When Ubie cast him one of his death stares, Zimmerman cursed. Now he was mad and he was going to take it out on the guy. I hoped he gave him a ticket. A bad one that required community service or anger management classes.

“Thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“I had to stop you. I think half the women in here were plotting your death.”

“You’re probably right.” I turned to Reyes and took his arm in mine to steer him back toward the kitchen. “Okay, I’m fine. No harm, no foul. And look at you. I can’t believe you’re filling in for Sammy.”

He shook out of his anger. “I was having lunch. Your dad needed a cook. I offered.”

“Wait, you didn’t… break Sammy’s leg?”

After rewarding me with a soft, deep laugh, he said, “No, I’m pretty sure Sammy broke Sammy’s leg.”

“You realize you have a fan club?” I indicated the room with a nod.

“Yeah, that tends to happen.”

“Must be a bitch,” I said, teasing him.

“You didn’t come over last night.”

“Right, um, I had to get some paperwork done.”

“You realize you can’t lie to me.”

“I know. I’m not lying so much as stretching the truth.” We were at his stop. I leaned against the bar.

Reyes looked past me. “Your uncle is watching us.”

“He does that. We’re grabbing lunch, then heading out to a crime scene down south.”

“Okay, if you have to go. I’m not sure what I’ll do with all these women around.”

Jealousy spiked in me so fast and so sharp, Reyes sucked in a breath, the air hissing through his teeth. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, let my emotion roll over him.

I bit down, embarrassed. “Are you enjoying that?”

“No,” he said, panting. “A little. It’s like being hit with a hundred razor blades at once, each leaving a tiny cut as it passes.”