Family Honor (4 page)

He saw her talk to someone inside, hand over some cash, and in just a few
minutes
she returned with two brown paper sacks.

She climbed back in the Murano and handed the bags over.
"Sliders.
Best in town."
She buckled up and proceeded to drive.

"Okay." Nate opened one of the bags and blinked. There were roughly a dozen small hamburgers, not individually wrapped, just stacked on top of one another.
"Hmmm."

"Try one," she encouraged, and held out her hand.

He passed her one and took one for himself. The first bite made him think of a cheesy, oniony little taste of heaven. "Wow," he murmured, licking oozing mustard from his thumb.

She chuckled.
"Napkins in the glove box."

He nodded and grabbed a couple for each of them. They were silent for the next few minutes as they each happily polished off three sliders. Nate offered the bag to her once more.

Mel waved him off, wiping her hands for the last time.

He rolled the half-full bag closed and cleaned up with his last napkin. "Not as hungry as you thought?"

Mel grinned again. "They weren't all for us. Stone
didn't
mind staying behind to work the evidence, but he would have minded missing Fanny's burgers. They're amazing fresh out of the microwave, too."

Nate settled the bags in the console between them and looked at her. "I was going to ask you about that. I hoped he wouldn't feel left out, but since we just got the report on the third
vic
, we really needed someone to go over it in depth and he seemed like the right choice."

She nodded. "When you get to know Henry, you'll find out he doesn't sweat the small stuff.
He's
not one of those players, always ambling for the best assignment, working his way up the food chain. He goes where
he's
needed, does what he's asked
and more
. He's a good partner."

Will I be here long enough to 'get to know Henry'?
Nate exhaled, and the onions that had tasted so good on the burgers came back to haunt him.
"Ugh, onions."

Mel laughed. "Sorry, but that's what makes Fanny's burgers so special.
Can't
get them without onions. Gum in the glove box, somewhere underneath all those napkins."

Nate chuckled and rummaged around until he found some Double Mint gum. "The folks we're going to talk to will thank you for this." He handed Mel a stick and chewed one himself.

She glanced sideways at him as she drove. "Most people would say 'they're just hookers'. Who cares about onion breath?"

He started to reply then stopped.

"What?" She pulled to the side of the road and parked.

They'd
apparently arrived at their destination, brick-lined streets, traditional lamp posts, and most of the buildings looked to be converted warehouses. "This is…?" he asked.

"This area is called Oldtown. The city tried real hard to fix this neighborhood up. Redid the building fronts, gave low interest loans to
businesses, all that
jazz." She pointed up the block. "The farther you go in that direction, the nicer it gets.
Really
fancy shops, nightclubs, the works. But this little stretch just never took off. This is where you come for a cheap beer, some knockoff jewelry, or an escort for the evening—or an hour."

Nate nodded. Every city had a similar
spot.

She gazed at him. "What were you going to say just now?"

"Hmm?"
He pretended he
didn't
remember.

She replied patiently, "I told you that most people would say these women are just hookers, so who cares about onion breath? You started to say something then stopped."

He rubbed his chin, and realized he needed a shave. He liked the look of a two day beard growth, but after
that
it got itchy. Gazing up at Mel, he smiled. "I was going to say, 'I'm not like most people.' Then I realized that was the kitschiest pick-up line on the planet.
So how about this.
They're
not just hookers to me. Every one of them is somebody's
daughter,
maybe somebody's mother, or even sister. I'm always telling people to remember that."

He watched with surprise as Mel raised a hand to her heart. Her eyes grew misty and for a moment, she
couldn't
meet his gaze. When she did, he saw real emotion in her eyes.

"You couldn't know this," she leaned in closer to him, "but that's the perfect pick-up line to use on me." She offered a small smile, and batted her lashes.

Nate froze, uncertain what to do.
Go for it.
He moved forward, his face mere inches from hers. They stared at each other.

"I was going to kiss you, but…." Mel trailed off, their faces inches apart.

"I know." He picked up on her thought. "We work together, we have a case to solve,
we
should be focusing on—"

She pressed two fingers to his lips. "I was going to say, 'but I have onion breath'." One more bat of her lashes, a quick smile, and she backed away. She grabbed one sack of burgers and opened her door. "Come on."

Too startled to do anything but comply, Nate followed her lead. They approached three women standing on the corner, obviously working girls. Two appeared young, pretty, with long hair and nice figures. Both had good complexions and white teeth.
Newbies.
No visible battle scars. Not time-worn.
Yet.

They eyed Nate and one made lewd gestures about getting together with him. He smiled and focused his attention on the third woman. She had darker skin and short, bleached blonde curly hair. Definitely older, mid-forties perhaps, she looked more the type their killer went for. The woman flashed a grin at Mel and he could see a gold capped tooth in front.

"Hey Goldilocks!
Seein' you here never
be
good news." Her accent rang out a combination of Jamaican and street slang.

Nate glanced at Mel.
Goldilocks?
She had some 'splaining to do.

"Hia Shelia," Mel acknowledged. "You're right about that, and today's no exception. Need you to eyeball a photo for me."

"Cops," Shelia shook her head.

The mere utterance of the word sent the two younger girls slinking into the shadows, evidently wanting nothing to do with police.

"It's okay," Shelia called to them. "These
be
homicide cops. The ones you gots to watch out for be vice cops." She looked at Mel and grinned.
"Except that Brady Marshall.
He one fine man.
That cutie patatootie can shake me down any day of 'da week."

"Ah, Brady."
Mel agreed. "Know what you mean. But
he's
a married man now, Sheila.
Has twin baby daughters
even.
A real family man these days."

"Uh huh."
Shelia nodded knowingly. "You tell my Brady if'n he ever needs some time away from that family to be lookin' me up. I give him a special rate."

Mel laughed.
"Living dangerously, Shelia.
His wife has mob connections you know."

"I'm just sayin'." Shelia shrugged.

Mel handed over a cropped photo of the last victim's face.

As Sheila studied it, Nate murmured, "A cop's wife with mob connections? How does that work?"

Mel chuckled again. "That's a whole 'nother story.
I'll
tell you about it sometime. You might even meet Brady. He's a good guy."

Shelia handed the photo back.
"Never seen her."
She sniffed toward the sack in Mel's hand. "What you got?"

"Just came from Fanny's." Mel handed over the bag.

The woman peered inside and for a moment, seemed to savor the fragrant aroma. She pulled out a burger and inhaled it in three bites. The second went down just as quickly. She made a show of licking her fingers then held out her hand for the photo again, and gave it another look.

Nate smiled at Mel's acumen. She knew how to get through to street people. Food was often a good place to start.

"I might'a seen her around.
Might'a been
with Juicy. You know Juicy, sweetie?"

Mel shook her head.

Sheila pulled out a small flip phone and speed dialed a number. She turned her back to talk.

Mel raised her brows at Nate. "Always surprises me when they have cell phones. I mean, if they can afford that…."

He shrugged. "Sometimes the pimp pays for it. Maybe
they're
throwaway phones and the user buys minutes.
It's
actually a pretty good safety feature. Do we know if Rhonda or Donna had phones?"

"We don't." She screwed up her face.
"Never even thought to check."

"That's okay.
We'll
get on it when we get back. See, this is why bouncing ideas off each other is good."

"Bouncing, yeah."
She allowed her gaze to travel down the length of his body and back up again. "Good."

Nate had never considered himself a blusher, but he felt his face heat up and knew it was gaining color at that moment. From Mel's satisfied expression, he could surmise that she noticed, and rather enjoyed his discomfort. He turned from her and adjusted his belt.
Gonna
be a long five days.

Sheila ended her call and faced them. "She
be
here in a minute.
Right 'round 'da corner."

"Thanks." Mel smiled at her. The most beautiful smile Nate had ever seen on anyone.
Sweet, sincere, even in these less than perfect circumstances.
Beautiful
.

He shook his head to clear it, and spotted a red-headed woman rounding the nearest corner. She approached with a wary expression on her face. He studied her. Forty-something with skin that looked years older; this one either smoked or drank heavily. He could tell by the dull color of her complexion, even through the thick layer of pancake.

"Juicy! Get oba here." Sheila shoved the last of the cheeseburgers in her mouth and tossed the sack into the waste bin near the old-fashioned lamp post next to her.

"What's up?" Juicy eyed Mel and Nate suspiciously.

"These
be
homicide in-vest-a-ga-tors," Sheila pronounced the word haughtily. "Have a pitcher to show you.
Another dead girl."

Juicy scowled.
"No, not another one."

"I'm sorry." Mel said softly. "I'm Detective Curtis and this is Agent Willis. If you
wouldn't
mind just having a look at the photo. This woman has family and friends somewhere. I'd really like to find out her name."

The woman seemed to screw up her courage before nodding.

Mel handed over the photo.

Juicy looked quickly then handed it back. Her face belied no expression when she asked, "Got any gum? I like Juicy Fruit."

Mel nodded and shot Nate a look. "No Juicy Fruit, but we have Double Mint. We have some cheeseburgers from Fanny's too, if you're hungry."

Juicy gazed at her with dull eyes.

Nate understood the look.
Duh.
Street people were always hungry. "I'll get them," he offered, and hurried to the Murano. He grabbed the food and gum, and took them back to Juicy.