“Doesn’t the county just do that?”
“Not for industrial-sized loads like this, they don’t. He’s supposed to take care of it himself.”
“He just leaves it up here?”
“Probably has guys come and grab it once a month to save money.”
Just as I went to reply, I caught sight of the biggest rat I had ever seen in my life nuzzling its way through the trash pile. I kept myself from screaming by turning and walking away as fast as I could.
I heard the sound of his laughter and of his camera as I waited for him in the stairwell.
Five minutes later, he was ready to go.
“No big deal,” he said.
“Now what?” I asked as we walked back downstairs.
“Now, we develop these.”
“Think it’ll work? Threatening him, I mean.”
“Probably. Those trash bags up there are a huge health code violation. It could shut him down completely.”
As we made our way down the steps, we moved over to one side as two older Hispanic women began to climb up. Easton suddenly stopped talking and looked uncomfortable.
One of the two women noticed him and smiled hugely.
“Mister Wright!” she exclaimed.
“Easton,” he mumbled.
“What are you doing here?”
“Working your case,” he said.
She replied in Spanish, and he frowned, glancing at me.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.
“Please, I insist.” She turned to me. “Mister Easton is a good man. He’s helping us for very little. The least I can do is offer you lunch.”
I glanced at him, surprised. He looked incredibly uncomfortable with the whole encounter, but I didn’t know why.
What surprised me even more was that he was apparently working for cheap. Easton didn’t seem like the charity kind of guy, let alone the type to help old Hispanic ladies with their problems.
“That’s very nice of you, Mrs. Suarez, but we have to get going,” he said.
“Please, stay. Take something with you, at least.”
He sighed. “Okay. Quickly, though,” He said something else in Spanish, and the two women laughed, glancing at me.
We followed the two women up the steps. The one woman turned left and we turned right, following Mrs. Suarez. She chattered away, talking about her children and her grandchildren, but I couldn’t help but glance at Easton. He seemed to be listening, and he even answered in Spanish from time to time.
Finally, we got to her apartment. She sat us down in her tiny kitchen. She busied herself making small tortillas for us, wrapping them in tin foil and filling them with meat and cheese.
“You know, Mister Easton has very good reputation. He help a lot of people,” she said to me, winking. “He’s a good boss.”
I nodded, completely dumbfounded. “Very good.”
“Are you single?” she asked me.
“Okay,” Easton said quickly. “That’s enough.”
“I am,” I said.
“Good, good. Marry him, if you can. Make him give you lots of kind-hearted babies.”
I laughed, looking at Easton, who only frowned at the two of us. “Thanks for this, but we have to get going before your landlord comes back.”
He grabbed me by the arm and practically dragged me toward the door.
“But I want to talk more about having your babies with Mrs. Suarez,” I said.
“Cut it out,” he growled.
“Thank you again!” Mrs. Suarez called out as we left, tortillas in hand.
We walked back downstairs and out toward the car.
He stopped before we got in.
“I’m not doing this for free,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Helping. She paid me. I’m not doing this for free.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Good. You can’t do shit for free and expect to survive.” He unwrapped his food and took a bite. “Delicious.”
I climbed into the car and he got into the driver’s seat.
“Why are you helping then? It can’t just be for the money.”
He was silent for a second.
“For the same reason I joined the bureau.” He started the engine of the car. “I don’t like assholes.”
We pulled out into traffic and I bit my bottom lip.
So far, Easton Wright was an absolute enigma. One second he was surly and rude, the next he was helping out old Hispanic ladies. He was absolutely gorgeous, but he was also my stepbrother.
The whole day had been weird as hell. As we drove back toward his office in silence, I couldn’t help but wonder if every day with him was going to be like this.
Part of me hoped so.
4
Easton
I left Laney out in the main room to man the phones as I locked myself in the bathroom to develop the photos.
There was nothing for her to do out there, but I needed some alone time. I hadn’t worked with someone in a long time, and so I wasn’t used to having another person around at all times.
Especially another person like Laney.
She was bright, like Susan had said, but soft. She could barely get near the trash, even though that disgusting pile had been key to the case. With the pictures of the rat and the garbage, I felt pretty good about making an approach the following day.
But if it were up to Laney, we’d have nothing. That softness was the first thing that had to go if she wanted to do something serious in law enforcement.
I flicked on the red light and slowly began the process of developing the film. I could have used a digital camera like pretty much everyone else, but there was something about doing it all myself that appealed to me. Besides, the prints came out so much better that way.
As I worked, my mind began to roam over the last few hours. I had been distracted part of the time as we’d combed through the apartment building, distracted by the way she had looked at me. It was part scorn and part fascination, and I couldn’t help but return the feeling. There was something about her full lips, about her body and the way she carried herself that drew me to her.
It was true that Suarez had embarrassed me in front of her. I didn’t want Laney to think that I was just some pathetic loser doing charity cases for every single sob story that came to my door. Mrs. Suarez had paid, and although it wasn’t really my full rate, it was still enough.
And I wasn’t exactly in the position to turn away cash.
Finally, I finished my work and tacked up the developed film to dry. I could tell that the pictures were definitely going to pay off, though I couldn’t get full-sized prints until later.
I opened the door and shut it quickly again, walking back out into the main room. I stopped short as I saw Laney rooting through my filing cabinet.
Fear gripped my chest. I quickly crossed the room and slammed the cabinet shut, startling her.
“Shit, Easton. What the hell?” she said. “You scared me.”
I stared at her. “I didn’t tell you to touch that.”
“The phones aren’t ringing,” she said. “I thought I’d organize your files, help you out.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”