the back of the police van with all the Gambello prisoners, I only had about one-third of the earnings I was counting on for the night. The rest would have rolled in later, around two o’clock in the morning, if the place hadn’t been busted.
I wondered how long I could last on the quantity of cash that I estimated had been in my server’s pouch at midnight. And when would Bella Stella reopen for business? Not soon, I suspected—not with its owner facing indictment. OCCB wouldn’t have staged such a big bust tonight if they didn’t have a strong case.
With Bella Stella off the menu, so to speak, I wondered how soon I could get another job—and collect my first earnings from it. In fact,
could
I get another job, now that I had a recent arrest on my record? What if, despite the Shy Don’s lawyer defending me, this arrest turned into a conviction?
Damn Lopez.
If I got out of jail for assaulting him, the first thing I was going to do was kill him. He deserved it.
“Hey, handsome,” one of the hookers suddenly said in a sultry voice. “You lookin’ for a party?”
“No, I’m looking for my assailant.”
My head jerked up the second I recognized Lopez’s voice. I saw him standing outside our cage, looking even more exhausted than he had during the bust, as if he was by now running only on the
memory
of fumes.
Serves him right.
He had replaced his bulletproof vest with a navy blue pullover sweater. I resented this, since that was a good color for him. It brought out the blue of his eyes, flattered his olive complexion, and made his coal-black hair look even darker. The fact that it was a ratty-looking old wool sweater with unraveling cuffs didn’t seem to mute its effect on me.
I had a sudden, unbidden memory of clumsily helping him pull a different sweater over his head exactly a week ago. It fell to the floor of my apartment, quickly followed by the rest of his clothes—which he was frantically shedding as we clung and kissed and embraced, feverish and uninhibited with each other, his ravenous mouth on mine, his hands all over my naked body . . .
I sat bolt upright and started choking on a sort of shocked hiccup, appalled by where my thoughts had just wandered based on one quick look at the tired, shabbily-dressed cop who had
arrested
me tonight.
“Are you all right, Esther?” he asked.
Our gazes locked. I swallowed, cleared my throat, and composed myself.
“What do
you
want, detective?” I asked coldly.
“Oh, I get it,” said the hooker who had greeted him. “You’re the cop she decked?”
“I’m the one,” Lopez said wearily.
Most of my fellow prisoners perked up, looking at him with interest now.
“Oooh, honey,” the same woman said to Lopez. “What ever did you do to make her wanna wallop such a pretty face?”
“He slept with me and then never called,” I said tersely, rising from my bench.
“Seriously?” She looked at Lopez with a much less flattering expression now. “That is so tacky!”
“I think there are still some people in the tri-state area who haven’t heard,” Lopez said to me. “Do you want to alert the media? It would save time.”
“God, men are all the same,” said another of the prostitutes. “Don’t you just hate them?”
“You’re a bum!” Stella told Lopez.
“I’m going to be sick!” said the drunk coed with the weak stomach.
“Again?”
We all took a few steps back.
She burped, then said, “Never mind. False alarm.”
The society girl who’d been hitting on me earlier stood up, pointed at me, and said to Lopez, “She assaulted me, too! I want to press charges. Against her
and
against the department—for putting this
animal
in here with me!”
“What did you do
now?
” Lopez asked me.
“I defended my virtue,” I said crankily.
He lifted a brow. “Surely it’s a little late for that?”
“Oh, don’t you
dare—
”
“Kidding,” he said. “Kidding.”
“You are in no position to kid me,” I reminded
I wondered how long I could last on the quantity of cash that I estimated had been in my server’s pouch at midnight. And when would Bella Stella reopen for business? Not soon, I suspected—not with its owner facing indictment. OCCB wouldn’t have staged such a big bust tonight if they didn’t have a strong case.
With Bella Stella off the menu, so to speak, I wondered how soon I could get another job—and collect my first earnings from it. In fact,
could
I get another job, now that I had a recent arrest on my record? What if, despite the Shy Don’s lawyer defending me, this arrest turned into a conviction?
Damn Lopez.
If I got out of jail for assaulting him, the first thing I was going to do was kill him. He deserved it.
“Hey, handsome,” one of the hookers suddenly said in a sultry voice. “You lookin’ for a party?”
“No, I’m looking for my assailant.”
My head jerked up the second I recognized Lopez’s voice. I saw him standing outside our cage, looking even more exhausted than he had during the bust, as if he was by now running only on the
memory
of fumes.
Serves him right.
He had replaced his bulletproof vest with a navy blue pullover sweater. I resented this, since that was a good color for him. It brought out the blue of his eyes, flattered his olive complexion, and made his coal-black hair look even darker. The fact that it was a ratty-looking old wool sweater with unraveling cuffs didn’t seem to mute its effect on me.
I had a sudden, unbidden memory of clumsily helping him pull a different sweater over his head exactly a week ago. It fell to the floor of my apartment, quickly followed by the rest of his clothes—which he was frantically shedding as we clung and kissed and embraced, feverish and uninhibited with each other, his ravenous mouth on mine, his hands all over my naked body . . .
I sat bolt upright and started choking on a sort of shocked hiccup, appalled by where my thoughts had just wandered based on one quick look at the tired, shabbily-dressed cop who had
arrested
me tonight.
“Are you all right, Esther?” he asked.
Our gazes locked. I swallowed, cleared my throat, and composed myself.
“What do
you
want, detective?” I asked coldly.
“Oh, I get it,” said the hooker who had greeted him. “You’re the cop she decked?”
“I’m the one,” Lopez said wearily.
Most of my fellow prisoners perked up, looking at him with interest now.
“Oooh, honey,” the same woman said to Lopez. “What ever did you do to make her wanna wallop such a pretty face?”
“He slept with me and then never called,” I said tersely, rising from my bench.
“Seriously?” She looked at Lopez with a much less flattering expression now. “That is so tacky!”
“I think there are still some people in the tri-state area who haven’t heard,” Lopez said to me. “Do you want to alert the media? It would save time.”
“God, men are all the same,” said another of the prostitutes. “Don’t you just hate them?”
“You’re a bum!” Stella told Lopez.
“I’m going to be sick!” said the drunk coed with the weak stomach.
“Again?”
We all took a few steps back.
She burped, then said, “Never mind. False alarm.”
The society girl who’d been hitting on me earlier stood up, pointed at me, and said to Lopez, “She assaulted me, too! I want to press charges. Against her
and
against the department—for putting this
animal
in here with me!”
“What did you do
now?
” Lopez asked me.
“I defended my virtue,” I said crankily.
He lifted a brow. “Surely it’s a little late for that?”
“Oh, don’t you
dare—
”
“Kidding,” he said. “Kidding.”
“You are in no position to kid me,” I reminded
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