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“You mean about your druggie murderer who was probably an errand boy for the Agosti family?”
Mitch grinned and leaned back. “I wondered. Talk to me.”
Familiar with Mitch’s shorthand way of speaking, Six proceeded to give him her opinion on the file. The evidence—circumstantial though it was—pointed to his being tied to the Agosti crime family; a small Italian syndicate with big aspirations that’d broken into the international drug trade in a major way three years prior.
“So, do you think he knows anything?” Mitch asked, taking the file she handed back.
Six started to shake her head, then stopped. “Unlikely, but not impossible. The family isn’t big—not yet. Because of that, it’s possible that someone as low-level as your guy knows something or someone. It’s a long shot, but there’s still a shot.”
“You’ll help?” Mitch said more than asked.
Six didn’t hesitate. “I’ll reach out to a few folks and see what I can find. Give me a few days?”
He nodded as he stood. “He was arraigned yesterday, so we have some time. Thank you,” he added as an afterthought.
She nodded and rose as well, wanting coffee from the kitchen. She didn’t really want to work, but rush hour was already starting. If she didn’t want to get stuck in traffic, she’d be better off spending a couple more hours in the office before getting on the road to Cos Cob.
“What’s on your docket?” Mitch asked as they exited her office.
“One case. Embezzlement from an employee retirement program,” she answered. Her caseload was much lighter than the rest of the office because she worked part-time. When not in trial, she only worked two and a half days a week. When she was called away by AISE, it was even less than that, and she was out for as long as the job required. The arrangements were not always easy to manage. But apparently the powers that be in both countries—the US and Italy—had decided to make it work, and she’d never encountered any issues with her erratic schedule.
“Fun,” Mitch said as he peeled off and headed to his office. Mitch had approximately zero interest in any case that did not involve blood and guts, and he hadn’t bothered to modulate his sarcasm.
“Yes, well, you know what they say about one man’s fun being another man’s…” She let her voice trail off, not sure what the rest of that saying was or if it was even the right one. She’d lived in the United States since starting college twenty years ago, but she still hadn’t gotten the hang of all the American idioms even though she loved them.
“Hah,” Mitch said, not bothering to turn back as he marched into his office. “Go get yourself some coffee, Vi. You brought that fancy machine in for a purpose. Put it to good use.” Six’s gaze lingered on his now-closed door, then drifted to where Gavin sat. Not surprisingly, he was watching her.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
She nodded but instead of saying anything, she pivoted on her heel and walked to the kitchen. Sandy and Laura, two paralegals, were chatting when she entered. Both women were relatively new and in their late twenties. Six had heard Laura wasn’t long for this job, but Sandy was quite good, despite her apparent desire to be considered pretty more than smart.
“Did you see him? I was surprised, in a damn good way, to see him. He doesn’t usually work today,” Laura asked.
“Hardnotto see him,” Sandy replied.
It was also not hard to guess who they were talking about. Six wondered if Gavin’s ears were burning. Then again, if they were, then they were probably always burning given how often he was a topic of conversation. Ignoring the two women, she walked to the fancy coffee machine she’d bought and installed in the office kitchen. It was extravagant, but if there was one thing she couldn’t do without, that was good coffee. Or maybe that was wine…
“Damn, I’d like to lick him all over,” Sandy said with a giggle that drew Six’s attention, and not in a good way.
“I’d love to get him home on a Friday night and fuck him seven—or fifteen—ways to Sunday,” Laura said.
And that was crossing a line Six couldn’t—and didn’t want to—ignore.
“Ladies, I’m quite sure you are familiar with the terms ‘hostile work environment’ and ‘sexual harassment.’ Have some respect for this office and for yourselves. If he hasn’t shown an interest in you so far, you need to take a hint. And if you’re going to continue to talk about your colleagues in that way, we’re going to have issues.”
The women stopped and gaped at her. Abruptly, they both spun around—in a move that looked almost orchestrated—and left the kitchen.
Six watched them go, then shook her head and turned to the task of making herself some coffee. A few minutes later, as the water was still heating, Gavin walked in.
“Frick and Frack flew out of here like bats out of hell. What’d you say to them?” he asked, leaning his hip against the counter and crossing his arms.
“You don’t want to know. Coffee?”
He considered her response and question, then nodded. “Thanks.”
Six packed another coffee filter and locked it in place. Once the light came on indicating the water was the right temperature, she hit the button, and the elixir of gods started pouring from the two spouts.
“Milk?” she asked. Gavin hadn’t said a word—or moved—since he’d thanked her. His stillness was a little disconcerting.
