Deborah Fletcher Mello - Tempted By The Badge

His wife cut him off. “Our daughter needs some time. Clearly our asking questions is a problem for her right now. Simone, call us, please, if anything comes up we need to know about.” She gave her husband another look, then shifted her gaze toward Mingus. She looked the man up and down and his own stare narrowed as he gave her a look back. “And, please, tell our daughter we love her,” she added.

The moment was tense, and awkward. Mingus sensed Joanna’s parents were feeling completely out of sync and unable to be of any help to their only child. Since court, Joanna had been distant at best and neither could understand. Neither he nor Simone had any answers for them either.

“Yes, ma’am,” Simone said as she watched the family make their way to the front door. “I’ll call but I’m sure Joanna will ring you both later, too.”

Mr. Barnes gave her a nod of his head as he and his wife stomped out the door, the structure closing harshly behind them.

Mingus hesitated as Simone stood in the doorway, watching as the couple headed toward their car. When she finally closed and locked the door, he turned and disappeared down the hallway.

* * *

Joanna’s home was filled with books. Shelves overflowed with tomes in every room.

As Mingus reached the open bedroom door, he noticed the music for the first time, the sound piped through the entire house. Joanna had turned up the volume in the space.

Joanna lay in the in fetal position across her bed, a plush pillow pulled beneath her head. Her eyes were wide open, her cheeks still damp with moisture. She lifted her head just enough to give him a look, seeming unfazed by his presence. She rolled to the other side of the bed and fell back into thought.

Mingus knocked against the door frame before he stepped over the threshold. He walked easily into the room and took a seat on the settee that rested at the foot of the bed. He sat listening to the music, some country crooner singing that his woman was better than heaven could ever be. His eyes skated around the room, noting more shelves lined with books. There was a mahogany dressing table decorated with assorted bottles of perfumes and nail polish. Her closet was overflowing with clothes on black-velvet hangers and shoes lined neatly in clear plastic containers. A framed photograph of a young Joanna posed primly between the parents he’d left standing in the kitchen with his sister decorated one wall. The shabby chic decor was an eclectic mix of soft florals and hand-painted furniture. It was a pretty room and Mingus sensed that much thought had gone into every aspect of it, and the rest of her home, to ensure it reflected her personality. Joanna suddenly spoke, pulling him from his thoughts.

“I’ve been trying to figure out why this is happening. Why did he pick me? I really need to talk to David Locklear,” she said, saying her accuser’s name aloud for the first time.

Mingus shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. Get the idea out of your head. They issued a restraining order against you. You can’t go anywhere near that kid and, if you do, they’ll revoke your bail so fast it’ll make your head spin. That is not a risk you want to take. Trust me.”

* * *

Joanna sat upright. Mingus was flipping through the pages of a signed, first-edition, leather-bound copy of Pablo Neruda’s Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair . She was taken aback by the deep vibrato of his voice, the rich timbre like an aged cognac. It was the first time she’d heard him speak since their initial meeting.

He lifted his eyes to stare at her, the two locking gazes. He seemed taller, even though he was sitting, his six feet plus a few inches pulled upright. There was no denying the man was good looking with his chiseled features, delectable caramel complexion, haunting eyes and magnetic smile. But she didn’t care much about his good looks right then.

He dropped his gaze back to the book. She was slightly taken aback by his casual disposition, Mingus seeming unfazed by her situation. There’d been something final in his comment, almost as if he was executing an order and daring her to challenge him.

“So what am I supposed to do? How do I get the answers I need?”

“You trust me to do my job,” he answered matter-of-factly as he turned the page he’d been reading. “Despite what some people think, I’m really good at what I do.”

“Weren’t you with the police department once?” she asked, trying to remember what little Simone had told her about this brother.

Mingus nodded, meeting her stare for the second time. “I was.”

“What happened?”

“That, I wasn’t any good at.” The slightest smile pulled at his full lips. “I discovered I work better when I work for myself. I have issues with authority.” His eyes dropped back to the book, seeming genuinely interested in the poem he was focused on.

Before Joanna could respond, Simone poked her head into the room, eyeing her friend and then her brother. “Everything okay in here?”

Mingus shrugged his broad shoulders. He glanced at Joanna. “You good?”

Joanna nodded. “I’m fine. I just needed a moment to myself. My old people were just a bit too much for me to handle.”

“They’re just worried about you,” Simone said, trying to be comforting.

“My mother is doing what everyone is doing—trying to figure out what I did that caused all of this. She hasn’t once considered that maybe I didn’t do anything to provoke being attacked. Why is that?”

“Because you’re a woman,” Mingus answered. He rested the book back into the custom clamshell box where he’d found it. He continued. “Even if the situation were reversed and the teacher were male, there are those who’d be asking what the girl did to provoke his attention. More times than not boys and men are getting high fives for having scored while girls and women get labeled as community sluts.”

“Well, that’s not fair,” Simone said.

“Maybe not, but that’s how our society is.”

“It’s total bull,” Joanna snapped, the profanity surprising the other two.

Mingus chuckled, then he and his sister exchanged a look.

Simone moved into the room and crawled in beside her friend on the bed. “We’re going to figure it out, Joanna. Mingus will figure it out,” she said, leveling one last look on her brother as she added emphasis to his name.

Mingus moved onto his feet. “Are you staying here with Joanna tonight?” he asked, looking at his sister.

“I had planned on it,” Simone said, nodding.

“That’s not necessary...” Joanna started. “Really, I can—”

Interrupting, Mingus narrowed his gaze. “Someone needs to keep an eye on you. You’re already plotting how to get out of that ankle bracelet and over to that boy’s house to interrogate him. We can’t let you go out like that.”

He focused his eyes on her hands, her fingers twisting and turning the monitor around her ankle. When he looked back up, she could feel herself blushing profusely.

“I wasn’t...well, not really. I just...”

Mingus suddenly laughed, the sound of his voice bringing the first rays of comfort shed felt since rising that morning. The warmth of it vibrated through the space and bounced from one wall to the other. Joanna and Simone soon found themselves laughing with him, the mood in the room lifting ever so slightly.

Mingus winked at her. “If my sister wasn’t here, I’d show you how to get that off without getting caught. But since she is, it’ll have to wait until we’re by ourselves.”

Joanna smiled, the first warm bend to her lips since they’d met. “Promise?”

“I got you!” With one last wink, Mingus gave them both a wave. “Joanna, I’ll pick you up in the morning. Simone, I will catch you later. You two try to get some rest tonight.”