Seduced By The Badge

Danni interrupted his thoughts. “So, tell me more about this house party.”

“It’s at the home of Miss Nanette Perry. She’s a fixture in the neighborhood, the community mother. Everybody knows and loves her. When she needs to pay her mortgage, she’ll cook, throw a party and sell plates. And the woman can cook! She’ll also feed the hungry if they come through and don’t have any money. Her home is considered neutral ground for the gangs, and at any given time you don’t know who you might run into. The lowest of the city’s downtrodden and Chicago’s most elite have dined together at her table. If there is anyone who knows who Pius is, Miss Perry will know.”

Danni nodded. “I look forward to meeting her.”

* * *

A series of turns and two traffic lights later, Armstrong pulled into an open space at the end of West Twenty-First Place. The homes were older brick row houses lining the length of the street. Parking came at a premium, and it was by the luck of the draw that the space became empty as they turned the corner.

Danni paused for a split second as he exited the driver’s side, and then she pushed open her own door and stepped out. Armstrong gave her a look, his eyebrows raised.

“In case anyone is watching,” she muttered, her head tilted toward the men gathered on the front porch a few doors down. “I assume someone may know you’re a cop, but they don’t need to know that I am.”

Armstrong nodded. As he sauntered past her, she noticed his attire for the first time. He wore denim jeans that fit him snugly through the hips, accentuating his backside. Beneath a wool and leather varsity jacket he wore a long-sleeved hooded T-shirt. The newest Jordan sneakers adorned his feet.

As he passed her, he pulled the hood up over his head and moved toward the home, where a crowd was coming and going through the front doors. Some carried foil-covered paper plates out, while others were bringing bottles in brown paper bags in. There were a few individuals who seemed to be moving with a sense of urgency. But most seemed glad to just relax in the moment.

Danni followed Armstrong, who moved swiftly up the flight of stairs to the front porch. He gave the men gathered there a nod as he pounded fists with one or two of them. Their gazes skated over her briefly, then the men returned to the conversation they were having. No one spoke, so neither did she. Danni pushed her hands into her pants pockets, painting her expression with indifference.

Inside, the noise level rose substantially, a wealth of chatter vibrating off the walls of the small home. Music played out of an old stereo, the deep bass of some old-school R&B song ringing through the air. Standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, an older woman called out Armstrong’s name.

“Detective Black, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” Miss Nanette Perry asked.

It looked like she was floating on air as she moved toward them, Danni thought. She was tall, with a copper complexion, hazel eyes and a blond buzz cut. She brought to mind what Danni imagined an Amazonian queen might look like. She was beautiful, and there was something very romantic about the air around her. She made people smile, and her gregarious personality served to punctuate her sharp intuition and razor-sharp tongue. She reached Armstrong’s side, throwing her arms around him in a deep bear hug as she kissed his cheek.

“I heard you had some fried chicken,” he answered as he hugged her back.

“Fried chicken, collards, mac and cheese, potato salad and some candied yams, baby! You plan to eat it here, or you want it to go?”

“I actually need two plates,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder toward Danni. “And we’ll have a seat so you and I can catch up.”

“That sounds like you want something, sunshine!”

“Something,” he answered.

Miss Nanette nodded. For a brief moment it seemed as if she were sizing him up, as if such was necessary. “How is that handsome father of yours?” she suddenly asked.

Armstrong smiled. Amusement danced across his face, and Danni sensed there was something in the older woman’s question that only they understood. Armstrong finally answered. “He’s doing very well. And so is my mother. She’s good, too!”

Miss Nanette laughed heartily and winked an eye at the man. She shifted her attention toward Danni. “What have I told you about picking up strays? Whose child is this?”

Armstrong shrugged. “Don’t let her fool you, Miss Nanette. She’s not as young as she looks.”

Miss Nanette’s eyes narrowed as she studied Danni intently. Her head bobbed ever so slightly before she spoke. “She’s too skinny. We’ll need to put some weight on her. Looks like she might blow away if the wind picked up.”

* * *

Danni smiled, a slight bend to her lips that Armstrong found beguiling. “I like your music,” she said, her voice soft like spun cotton.

Miss Nanette smiled back. “You’ll like my cooking more.” She led them to the dining room, shooing three boys out of their seats. “Sit down and make yourselves comfortable. You want corn bread or a yeast roll?”

“Corn bread,” Danni said.

“Yeast roll,” Armstrong answered.

Miss Nanette chuckled. “Sweet tea, baby girl?” she asked.

Danni nodded.

“Baby girl has some Southern roots. I heard it in that accent. The tea just confirmed it for me.”

“I’ll have a glass of...” Armstrong started.

“Boy, I know what you drink. Sit on down!”

Armstrong grinned. “Yes, ma’am!”

Armstrong pulled out a seat for Danni and then took the one beside her. There was an elderly man and a couple still seated at the table with them. The old man had drifted off to sleep, leaning so far forward that he looked like he might fall face-first into his empty plate. The couple were focused on their meal and each other, barely giving Armstrong, or Danni, a look.

Armstrong spoke anyway. “How’s everyone doing this evening?”

The younger man gave him a quick stare and a nod. “Good. How about yourself?”

He nodded. “I’m good. Glad for a hot meal.”

“Miss Nanette put her foot in this here supper!” the woman exclaimed. “Best potato salad this side of town!”

“I’m a fan of her fried chicken,” Armstrong responded. “I come at least once a month to get me some.”

The man shifted his gaze from Armstrong to Danni. “Your daughter doesn’t look like she gon’ eat much,” he said teasingly.

Danni laughed as Armstrong rolled his eyes at her. Before he could respond, Miss Nanette swept back into the room with an oversize tray that held two plates loaded with food and two red plastic cups filled with drink. She placed both down in front of them, completing the setting with yellow paper napkins.

“Eat up, baby girl. There’s seconds for you if you want,” Miss Nanette said as she placed a warm hand against Danni’s shoulder. “And I have some banana pudding for dessert, too.”

“Thank you,” Danni said as she reached for the plastic fork. As the decadent aroma of the home cooking wafted up her nostrils, she suddenly realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and she was starved.

The first taste of macaroni and cheese was orgasmic, the creamy cheddar thick and rich and loaded with flavor. It was an explosion of flavor against her tongue, and it was only when everyone around the table burst out laughing that Danni realized she’d moaned, a low purr escaping past her lips. She blushed profusely but kept eating. The fried chicken instantly became a favorite and, Danni and Armstrong both agreed, part of a necessary food group, as they licked the seasonings from their fingers. Minutes later there wasn’t anything left on either’s plate.

* * *

Armstrong was amazed at the amount of food the petite woman had been able to consume. She had a healthy appetite and clearly had no interest in hiding it. He found himself watching her, staring in anticipation of her saying or doing something that he didn’t want to miss. His response to the nearness of her had him feeling slightly out of sorts, and he found it disturbing. He shook his head, trying to wave the sensation away, and then he realized Miss Nanette was staring at them both. He smiled as the woman narrowed her gaze then shifted her attention back toward Danni.

“You should own a restaurant,” Danni said as she finished her last spoonful of banana pudding. “This was wonderful!”

Miss Nanette smiled. “This suits me just fine. I feed folks once, maybe twice each month. I get something out of it. They get something, and everyone’s happy.” She turned to face Armstrong. “So why don’t you tell me what you came here to get.”

Armstrong looked over his shoulder. The crowd had thinned substantially. The old man was still sleeping soundly, having laid his head down onto the table, his plate pushed to the side. The couple was long gone. His voice dropped an octave. “We’re looking for someone. They call him Pius. I was hoping you might be able to give me a name or point me in his direction.”

“Pius?”

Armstrong nodded. “Do you know him?”

Miss Nanette smiled. She rose from her seat and reached for all the empty plates. “Come help me in the kitchen. Bring your friend.”

In the other room, she dropped the plates into a sink filled with soapy water. She extended a pair of rubber gloves toward Danni and pointed her index finger. “Earn your keep, baby,” she said. She spun to the other side of the room and pulled a plastic container from an upper cabinet. She moved back to the counter and filled it with what was left in a pan of banana pudding.

Danni took a deep breath, shot Armstrong a look and then moved to wash the dishes that cluttered the sink.

Armstrong laughed, stopping when Miss Nanette slapped him in the chest with a drying towel. He sputtered as the two women both giggled heartily. Minutes later, with the dishes washed and dried, Miss Nanette handed him the container of dessert. In return, he pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and pressed it into the older woman’s palm. “So, do you know this Pius?”

“Alexander Balducci has a grandson. Paul Balducci. He’s been bad news since preschool. He’s coming up fast in the family business and fancies himself to be quite the kingpin. His mother used to call him her little priest. But that was wishful thinking on her part. In her mind, he was a good Catholic kid. The truth was his grandfather bailed him out every time he got into trouble—and he got into trouble a lot.”

“Do you know who he runs with?” Armstrong asked.

Miss Nanette shrugged. “If it helps, there’s a coffee shop on California Avenue that he and his associates are known to frequent,” she concluded. “They say he’s quite the Renaissance man. You might find him there.”

“Thank you,” Armstrong said.

“We really appreciate everything,” Danni added.

Miss Nanette winked an eye at the young woman. “Be careful out there,” she said, staring directly at Danni. “Pius and his kind chew up pretty girls like you and spit them out like they’re sucking all the salt off some sunflower seeds.”

Chapter 4

Armstrong stepped into the shower, anxious for the cool spray of water that rained down from the showerhead. Nothing about his day had been what he had expected. He wasn’t accustomed to having anyone in his space as he worked a case, and Danni’s presence had been completely disquieting. There was something about the young detective that had him feeling out of sorts, and he couldn’t begin to understand it. Explaining it would have been virtually impossible, so he was grateful to keep the unsettled feelings to himself.

Despite his best efforts to put the day and the woman behind him, there were too many thoughts lingering in his head. He pressed his hands against the tiled wall and leaned his face beneath the warming flow. Water rained over his brow and down his cheeks, droplets lingering in the strands of his beard.

He needed to run by the barbershop for a trim and edge, he thought to himself. There was also laundry in the trunk of his car that he needed to drop off, the errand deterred by the impromptu dinner plans with the queen of the neighborhood watch. He smiled as he thought back to their meal with Miss Nanette.

Danni had been ready to head over to the coffee shop to search out Pius the minute they stepped back out onto the front porch. But he’d called an end to their day instead, knowing Pius would still be there when they picked back up in the morning. He had wanted to pull the career criminal’s file first, hoping to discover a lengthy rap sheet and at least two outstanding warrants for failures to appear in court. When they finally did cross paths, he wanted to ensure they’d have reason to cuff and arrest him.

Armstrong could tell by the shift in her mood and the expression on her face that Danni hadn’t liked the idea, but she didn’t say so out loud. She’d been exceptionally polite, and dismissive, when he’d returned her to her hotel. She’d wished him a good night, and then she’d stomped into the building.

Danni was fire and ice, intensely calculating with a quick fuse. She was not an easy woman to read. She intrigued him, and he found himself wanting to know more about her. Needing to understand what drove her. Unlike women he’d been known to date, she reminded him instead of his mother and his sisters, her staid demeanor marked by a piercing stare and terse tongue. There was a moment with Miss Nanette where she’d finally relaxed, her smile fueling the light in her eyes. Her laugh had been airy and her brow had smoothed, no longer furrowed with emotion. That woman had made his heart skip a beat, and he couldn’t help but hope that he’d get a chance to know that side of her better.

Stepping from the shower, he grabbed an oversize towel and tucked it around his waist. Minutes later he’d slipped on a pair of sweats and sat alone in his living room. Settling himself comfortably against the chenille sofa, he sipped on a cup of hot coffee laced with Irish whiskey. The file on the Balducci family wasn’t quite light reading to send him off to sleep, but it was necessary. He needed to learn everything he could about the kid, because he had no doubts that Junior already knew everything there was to know about him.

* * *

The coffee shop on California Avenue would have been easy to find if she hadn’t been looking for it, Danni thought as she pushed her way inside and looked around. There was a late-night crowd of regulars who all seemed to turn and stare as she entered. Her gaze swept quickly around the room as she moved swiftly to the counter to order an iced chai latte and a brownie.

“You new around here?” the young man who took her order asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, I just got into town.” She pushed her hands and the change he’d passed her into her pants pockets.

He nodded. “My name’s Carlo,” he said as he extended his hand to shake hers.

“Danielle, but my friends call me Danni.”

He smiled, flashing bright white teeth with a center gap and dimpled cheeks. His eyes were black against an ivory complexion, his hair cropped just low enough to define wavy curls.

“Do you have somewhere to stay, Danni?”

There was a moment of pause as Danni pondered her response. Carlo continued before she could respond.

“It’s not safe out here. Especially for a young girl. I don’t know what your story is, but if you need some help...”

Danni smiled sweetly. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’m staying with a cousin. She doesn’t live far from here. She works late and I just wanted to get out and do some exploring.” The lie rolled effortlessly out of her mouth.

Carlo nodded. “Okay. But if you ever need help, there’s a shelter close by and people you can turn to.”

“Why are you so nice? You don’t even know me.”

“My sister was a runaway. She didn’t make it home. I want to think that had she ever asked someone for help they would have been there for her.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Carlo shrugged. “Grab a seat and I’ll bring your coffee to the table.”

“Thank you,” Danni said, offering him one last smile.

Grabbing a table by the window, Danni positioned herself so that she could see most of the room, anyone coming through the door and the sidewalk outside. The sun had set hours earlier, and a full moon shone through the windows, illuminating the dark sky and the street outside. There were more people inside than Danni would have imagined. Most looked like college students. There was a couple out on a date and the occasional single with a laptop and headphones pretending not to be paying attention to the conversation at the next table.

But what drew her attention and held it was the table way in the back where three young women sat, silent. There was barely the hint of a conversation between them, each staring off into the distance. A man with bad skin and a too-small suit sat with them, his demeanor and presence seeming everything but protective. When one girl rose to go to the restroom, he grabbed her wrist abruptly and held it a tad too tightly for comfort as he hissed something under his breath.

Danni bristled, her hand falling to the waistband of her jeans and the small pistol tucked beneath her shirt and jacket. She clenched her fingers into a tight fist as she watched the girl continue on her way, her companion dropping back into his seat. The moment was interrupted when Carlo moved to her side, setting her drink and dessert down onto the table. He turned to see where she stared.

“Everything okay?”

Danni shifted her gaze to meet his. “Everything’s fine.”

He stole another quick glance over his shoulder. “That’s the kind of trouble you don’t need. Trust me. Nothing good can come from hanging with that crew.”

She nodded. “I was just being nosy,” she said softly.

Carlo smiled. “You ever hear about curiosity and that cat? The cat died.” His deadpan expression moved her to laugh.

“I get it,” she said.

He winked an eye at her. “I have to get back to the counter, but if you need anything else, just let me know.”

“Thanks, Carlo.”

As the man moved to help another customer, Danni shifted her attention back to the other side of the room. The girl had returned to the table, looking disinterested as she and the other two young women finished off sandwiches and mugs of drinks covered with whipped cream. The man with them studied a copy of the Chicago Tribune, ignoring what little chatter there was between his companions. And then the front door swung open, a mini storm moving into the space.

Everyone in the room turned to stare as a couple in heated conversation swept past the counter, moving directly toward the back table. He was tall and lanky with thick black locks pulled into a loose man bun at the back of his head. Dressed in a black, collarless jacket, black slacks and just the hint of a white turtleneck peeking past the jacket’s neckline, he carried himself with an air of irrefutable arrogance. The girl with him wore a gold lamé dress that dipped low in the front and even lower in the back, barely covering her assets. A white fake fur coat was slung over one shoulder, and she stomped in strappy gold high-heeled shoes. She was strikingly beautiful, with a porcelain complexion and raging red hair that fell to the middle of her back.

The young woman was angry, cursing profusely as she slammed her purse onto the table and her backside into a chair. She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted, then shouted again as a fresh irritation crossed her mind. Anger painted her companion’s expression. Infuriated by her outbursts, he slammed a flat palm down against the table, the harsh gesture silencing the entire room.

The couple on that date rose from their seats, waved a hand at the barista and hurried out the door. Everyone else went back to minding their own business, not interested in getting caught up in any fray. Danni’s eyes widened as she eavesdropped, her head hung low over her plate as she pretended to pick at her brownie.

“I’m done, Pius! Do you hear me? I’m not going back to any of those parties ever again,” she screamed before the pout returned to her heavily made-up face.

Carlo moved from behind the counter, his hands resting on his hips as he stared at the table.

Danni turned swiftly to look. The woman’s companion stood with his back to her, seeming to hover over the table. He snapped a finger, and the other man sitting with the women moved onto his feet, moving to give up his chair. As he sat down, his arm flew from his side, backhanding the woman he’d arrived with. Her head snapped back and then her hand flew to the side of her face, tears raining from her eyes.

“Shut up,” he snapped gruffly. “No one said ‘speak.’”

The woman swallowed a sob, and then she stood slowly. She hesitated when the man Danni assumed was a bodyguard took a step in her direction. The quiet in the space was eerily disconcerting.

Carlo’s voice suddenly rose above the silence. “Pie!”

The other man turned in his seat, acknowledging their familiarity with an exaggerated eye roll. “What?” he snapped back.

“You’re scaring my customers,” Carlo quipped.

The other’s man’s gaze swept around the room. He paused for a swift second as Danni met his stare briefly before dropping her eyes back to the table.

“Sorry about that. Coffee’s on me,” the man nicknamed Pie finally said. He turned back around and gestured toward his companion. The bodyguard stepped aside as the woman resumed her trek to the restrooms, still holding on to the side of her face.

“Are you having your regular, Pie?” Carlo questioned. His tone was edged, just shy of being abrasive. Frustration rounded his shoulders and tightened his jaw. He was clearly pissed and fighting not to let it show.

Pie didn’t answer, his attention shifting to a cell phone that vibrated in his breast pocket. He moved to answer the call, ignoring whatever else was happening around him.

“That’s what I thought,” Carlo muttered. He tossed Danni a look, the young woman on the edge of her seat, her body tense. He turned an about-face. “We close soon,” he said loudly, the comment meant for the entire room. “Last call for refills.”

Danni guzzled the last of her coffee, then stood up and headed to the bathroom. Inside, the space was tight, with two stalls and a single sink. The tile wore its age, and new fixtures would have been an improvement. But a fresh coat of pale yellow paint made a pleasant difference, and someone had gone to great lengths to make the space feel comfortable.

The young woman dressed in gold stood looking in the only mirror, fixing her makeup. Ire furrowed her brow as she hid the rising bruise on her cheek beneath a layer of powder foundation. She wasn’t a happy camper, and her anger seeped from her dark eyes past her lashes.

Standing beside her, Danni realized the girl wasn’t nearly as old as she’d initially thought. She stared, realizing the young lady might have been in her late teens or early twenties. She took a deep breath and one step closer. “Hey. Are you okay?” Danni asked. “I saw what your boyfriend did.”

The young woman tossed her a look, a moment of silence shifting between them before she responded. “That prick’s not my boyfriend. I just work for him.”

Danni nodded. “Do you want to call the police or anything?”

The other woman’s incredulous expression gave Danni pause. “Are you stupid?” she snapped.

“I was just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help. And I definitely don’t need no cops.”

Danni nodded again. “Sorry.”

The girl turned to stare at her. Her gaze swept from Danni’s head to her feet and back. “How old are you?”

“Old enough.”

She laughed. “At least you lie quick. It’ll come in handy.” She extended her hand. “Everyone calls me Ginny. Short for Ginger. Because of the red hair.” She swept her hand through her thick locks.

“Danni. Short for Danielle.”

“You’re new. I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I just got into town. I got into some trouble back home in Georgia, and my folks sent me here to stay with my cousin.”