10. Maya
As soon as Maya and Reed walked into the bar, she spotted them. Damn, he was good. She tugged on Reed’s sleeve and nodded toward a group of men, all around her and Reed’s age, who were sitting around a few tables that had been pushed together in the back of the bar. All were dressed in their matching navy-blue work pants and shirts with the Prescott Family Plumbing insignia stitched over the pockets on the right side of their chests, loudly cutting up over a few pitchers of beer. What were the odds? Apparently pretty good in a small town.
“You sure this isn’t going to compromise our case?” she whispered to Reed.
“We’re just two people getting a drink,” he said nonchalantly.
His hand grazed the small of her back as he nudged her toward two empty seats at the bar. The contact was fleeting, but enough to cause a fluttering sensation in her belly. Aside from a handshake, this was the first time he had ever touched her, and she liked it even though he probably didn’t mean anything by it. This wasn’t the time, nor the place for such silliness anyway. Especially with the firm rules she’d put in place. He was just a coworker, and they were here to work.
“What’ll you have?” he asked as they settled into their stools.
“I’m guessing a glass of sauvignon blanc is out of the question?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth as she fanned her face with her hand to offset the lack of air conditioning. By all appearances, it was not looking good which was a shame considering how a chilled glass would hit the spot right about now.
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
“Whatever you’re having then.”
“Can we get two High Lifes?” he called over to the bartender. He caught her grimace out of the corner of his eye and grinned. “Hey, it’s the champagne of beers, and it’s cold. Only the best for you, Hendricks.”
She shook her head at him because that was some shameless flirting on his part. Maybe it was all part of the act and this was what it was like to grab drinks with Reed Stanton. So far, it was not unenjoyable. The bartender popped the tops off the bottles and set them on the bar in front of them without so much as a cheers or request for payment, but that didn’t seem to deter Reed.
“Thanks. Hey, do you mind switching over to the Braves game?” He pointed to the relic of a tube television currently playing an episode of Judge Judy on a shelf over the bar.
The bartender gave a wave and climbed up on a step stool to manually change the channel on the set, flipping through a few shows until Turner Field appeared on screen and the announcer’s distinctive voice came booming through the speakers informing them that it was a tie game in the bottom of the seventh.
“Appreciate it,” Reed said, his eyes already glued to the game.
With not the slightest interest in the ballgame and a job to do, Maya casually sipped her beer as she surveyed the room around her. There was no discernable decor aside from neon signs and posters that covered the wood panel walls, promoting whichever brand of alcohol that had provided them. The otherwise empty space was filled with mismatched vinyl chairs and tables, and a slow, but steady stream of people filing in to begin drinking after quittin’ time.
The plumbers’ conversation had come to a stop now that the game was on, so she glanced over at Reed who had inadvertently killed their little surveillance operation. He took a pull off his beer and blindly reached for a handful of the complimentary pretzels sitting in the bowl in front of them. He had left his suit jacket and tie in the truck and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He seemed even more at ease when they were out here compared to the city, and he also looked pretty good while doing it. This was definitely a better look on him than his first day cookie-cutter prep outfit.
“You’ve spent a lot of time in places like this, haven’t you?”
He glanced at her and chuckled uneasily before returning his attention to the game. “Two of my good friends own a bar like it back home.”
Maya nodded and tried to join him in watching the game, but she didn’t make it through an entire at bat before she began to grow restless. Her mind was wandering and thinking not about the case, but the man sitting beside her. The man who had been steadily proving every one of her assumptions about him wrong since the day they’d met. So she thought back to the questions she’d had ever since that first meeting, but was too proud to ask, and decided there was no time like the present to start getting some answers.
“You never told me how you came to meet Al.”
Still clinging to a bit of that pride, she ended up stating it more than asking it, only her attempt at a cool distance was completely transparent as evidenced by the look he threw her.
“That’s an awfully personal subject for two people who just work together, don’t you think?”
“Says the guy who showed up at my house this weekend,” she shot right back.
“That was for work,” he defended, giving her the eye as he tipped the top of his drink her way in place of a warning finger.
She turned in her stool, knees pointing toward him as she looked him square on. He did the same, his knees brushing hers when he turned. There it was again, that feeling in her stomach when they touched. He waved his hand, inviting her to bring on the next retort, and she was so game.
“Then I’ll argue that this is also work related since he’s our boss.”
He nodded and raised his hands in front of him, conceding to her point. “We worked a case together when I was still a deputy,” he explained simply.
“I already knew that, Stanton.”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time.” She shrugged and grabbed her beer from the bar, settling in for the story.
He sighed and shook his head, then took a long swig from his bottle to ready himself. “Around the time I joined the sheriff’s department, the chief started doing these speed traps to drum up some business in order to justify the size of the force. It started well enough. We’d catch travelers speeding through our town on their way to wherever they were going and that kept the streets safer for our residents, so it felt like a public service. A win-win.”
“Sounds like it,” she agreed.
“But it didn’t take long for it to get out of control. Incentives were offered for the number of tickets written, competitions to see who could get more started among officers, numbers were fudged, radar guns weren’t calibrated, maybe even tampered with…” He sighed, growing visibly frustrated with the situation. “I didn’t feel comfortable with it anymore, so I took any assignment I could to get out of doing it…you really want to hear all this?”
“Yeah.” Not only did she want to hear this, she needed to hear it.
“So I was on duty at the precinct one night when a woman and her daughter, a girl a few years younger than me, were brought in for resisting arrest. Turns out they got caught up in a speed trap on their way from Atlanta to Athens, and the woman called them on their bullshit which most people didn’t have the nerve to do, and the deputies didn’t like that. Things escalated and they arrested the women.”
“Assholes,” Maya murmured under her breath.
“Yeah, the assholes messed with the wrong people, though, because those women were Al’s wife and daughter. When he came in to bail them out, he was calm, but asked a lot of questions. He knew something was up obviously. So, when I went home that night, I tried to sleep off my bad shift, but I couldn’t. I knew, deep down, that if I didn’t speak up about the corruption, I may as well have been doing it myself, so I looked him up the next day and gave him a call. I told him he was right to question it, and it went from there.”
“Did he end up bringing a case against the department?” she asked eagerly, feeling like he’d left her hanging in the middle of the story.
“He hired someone who did, yes,” he confirmed. “The department, the city, the county.”
“Did you have to testify?”
“No. They didn’t end up needing me to. There was more than enough evidence for the case.”
“Did your colleagues ever find out that you were the whistleblower?” she followed up right on the heels of his last answer.
He dropped his chin to his chest and began to chuckle, and Maya realized that her questioning had moved squarely into his personal life. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine. No, it was pretty much an open secret around town, but I never admitted to it before I left.”
“You put your job and standing in the community on the line for two people you didn’t know.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t really like that. I never should have let it get to that point. I still feel guilty that it took me three years before I spoke up and left. But that’s why I’m going back to Clayville after graduation. I’ll get my foot in the door as an assistant district attorney, and once I’m district attorney, I’ll have the power to investigate law enforcement misconduct and other corruption within the local government. I love my hometown, but it’s far from perfect.”
“You’re gonna clean house.”
“Hopefully.”
“That’s an admirable thing to do.”
He pressed his lips together, not quite in a grin, then looked away uncomfortably. “I’m gonna grab a smoke.”
“Wha?”
She recoiled as he slid off of his stool and walked away. The abrupt end to their conversation left her mind reeling. Had she pushed too much or overstepped his boundaries? Her eyes moved from the empty stool to him walking across the bar with his easy stride, a few steps behind a few of Prescott’s crew who had left their table and were headed out the back door.
Damn, Stanton. He hadn’t missed a beat despite seeming so relaxed and distracted by the ball game and their conversation. She wasn’t sure why anything about him surprised her anymore because every time she learned something new, it only deepened her respect for him. He was laid back, but motivated. Practical, but smart. Tough when he needed to be, but fair. Simply put, he was a good guy. A guy she was happy to share this work with and have on her side.
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
A man, probably a few years older than her, watched her from around the corner of the bar. He wore a pair of khakis and a pristine white polo shirt with the Prescott Family Plumbing logo on the front pocket. He had green eyes, a golden tan, and blonde hair that was neatly trimmed into a crew-cut.
“No.” She slid her empty bottle away, folded her arms, and rested them on the bar. “Just passing through.”
“From the city?”
His eyes traveled down the front of her sleeveless ivory blouse and skimmed across her snug tan skirt and bare legs. She tilted her head contrarily, and he gave her a fake, plastic smile.
“It’s pretty obvious,” he said.
She hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to answer him truthfully, lie, or say nothing at all. They had come to this bar for an encounter like this, but without Reed by her side, she was having doubts about how to play it. And then she remembered Reed’s words. We’re just two people getting a drink. So there was nothing wrong with just letting this guy talk and seeing where it went.
“Yeah,” she admitted, going with the truth, but without giving away too much.
“I’m planning on moving up there soon.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Got some big things going on,” he bragged, as if she should be impressed. “I don’t plan on being here forever.”
“Mmm.” She nodded, and her attention drifted up to the ball game that was now in extra innings.
“Freddy Prescott.” He reached across the bar to shake her hand. Just the guy she was hoping to run into.
“Maya H—” She stopped herself, deciding to hold off on the reveal of her full name until she was serving him papers. “Maya.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
She pressed her lips together into a tight grin in reply.
“You know, I’ll be up in your neck of the woods for some client meetings next week,” he said, leaving his space a few feet away from her to close the distance and, he probably thought, the deal. “You should give me your number. I’ll take you out to dinner and you can show me around.”
Three minutes in, and this guy thought he had it in the bag, but if not for her interest in him as a key player in their case, she would have shut this conversation down exactly two minutes and fifty-eight seconds ago.
“Let’s just take our chances,” Maya said, with an intentional dose of coy flirtation. “If it’s meant to be, I’m sure we’ll run into each other.”
He took a step back, and shook his head, probably not accustomed to women who weren’t impressed by his story. He recovered, though, maintaining that smile as he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and produced a little white card that he held between his middle and index finger.
“In case you change your mind.”
He slipped his business card into the front pocket of her blouse, gave her a wink, then grabbed the drink he’d ordered and left to rejoin his crew who had now returned from their smoke break.
She stared him down, long and hard, as he walked away then pulled the card out of her pocket, scoffing once she read it. “What an asshole.”
“How the hell does that guy still have both of his hands after pulling that?” Reed asked as he rejoined her at the bar, having caught the tail end of her interaction with Prescott.
“He got lucky.” She tapped the edge of the card firmly against the bar.
“Well, I got nothin’ except for some choice details about how one of them is having an affair with one of their clients,” Reed confessed.
Maya wrinkled her nose at the thought. Such a charming group of guys. “Thanks for sharing.”
“Anytime. So who was that?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” she whispered as she flagged the bartender down. “How much do we owe you?”
He held up a hand with all five fingers up. She dug into her purse and left a five and a few singles on the bar, then looked to Reed who had just made himself comfortable again, sipping on the last of his drink and catching up on the game.
“You ready?”
“I’m not finished,” he protested as he held up his half full drink.
“Come on.” She grabbed the neck of the bottle and slid it out of his hand, then placed it on the bar and hopped out of her seat. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back home and I’ll tell you everything.”
That seemed to pique his interest, so he parted with his lukewarm beer and followed her out the door. Once they were outside, she wordlessly passed the card to him as they walked across the parking lot to his truck. He took it in his hand and read over it.
Freddy Prescott
Prescott Family Enterprises
Creator of the EZ Press
(patent pending)
He let out a sharp laugh. “You gotta be kidding me.”
* * *
“I’m never gonna let you hear the end of it if Prescott finds you in the city,” Reed teased.
“Do not say that.”
“You’re the one who put it out in the world.”
She took a sip from the glass of wine she’d finally been able to procure at the bar around the corner from their office, chuckling to herself as she pictured Freddy fucking Prescott leering at her thinking he had the upper hand when in all actuality, he had handed it to her on a silver platter.
“That guy’s so sleazy.”
“That’s the thing about guys like him,” Reed said. “They’re corrupt as all get out and overly confident, but they’re not smart about it. The only reason they get away with this shit is because nobody questions it.”
“Not this time.”
Reed smiled and raised his glass. “Not this time.”
Maya clinked her glass against his. This was shaping up to be a great summer. Solving cases, helping someone out, and having a little fun while doing it? Cheers to that, indeed.
“Seriously, though, I don’t want to say we have it in the bag, but…”
“We have it in the bag,” he said without hesitation. “This guy is gonna scare easily. I can feel it. We may not even make it to trial.”
“Shame.” She leaned back in her chair and slowly twirled her glass in hand. “I love a good challenge.”
She looked up to find him staring back at her, lips slightly parted like someone had hit the pause button on their conversation. And that someone would be her because she now realized how suggestive that must have sounded. He moved to take another sip and now she looked away as heat rolled under her skin. When she noticed the time on her watch, she realized she had completely lost track of time.
“Shit. I need to get going. I promised Adam I would meet up with him to go to this happy hour that Evan and his friends are having.”
“So the date went well?”
“The dates,” she corrected. “There was another one Sunday night.”
“Wow. Good for them.”
He looked quite satisfied to hear that. In fact, he looked almost proud in a way which she found pretty cute. He was technically there when they met, and she knew for a fact that he had been a topic of discussion on their first date, though she’d never let him know that considering the discussion also involved her.
“Any chance you wanna come with? Go for a triple header?”
Her heart started to beat just a little faster as he looked at her, tilting his head with a faint look of surprise on his face. It was a totally understandable reaction because what was she thinking? That was definitely not work-related. Yes, they were having a nice time and she easily could have stayed longer if she didn’t have somewhere else to be, but this was Reed, not some guy she was on a date with.
“Three bars in one day?”
“Yeah,” she choked out, her mouth suddenly dry.
“As tempting as that sounds, I probably shouldn’t. I’ve got a long drive home.”
“Right. Of course.”
She stood from her chair and grabbed her purse, avoiding eye contact as she busied herself gathering her things. It was impossible not to feel embarrassed after putting herself out there like that. She’d get the hell out of here and everything would just go back to normal tomorrow. She felt a tug on her purse strap, though, and found him standing right beside her with a grin.
“But you have fun,” he finished now that he had her attention. “I keep a bottle of Tylenol in my desk drawer. You know, just in case you need it.”
She put her hand on her hip and quirked an eyebrow at him. “You really think I’d roll into work hungover? Me? Come on. I don’t party on work nights, I’m just going for moral support.”
“You never know,” he teased before growing more serious. “Strong work today, Hendricks.”
“You too, Stanton.”
They held each other’s gaze for a moment, and this time she didn’t allow herself to break right away, and neither did he. She never understood why people made such a big deal over blue eyes. They never did much for her. Reed had the bluest eyes, though, like the color of the ocean on a clear day when the sun shimmered against the ripples. This wasn’t the way you looked at a co-worker. This was different. She gave him a faint smile as she adjusted the purse strap over her shoulder.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, still maintaining their gaze.
“See you tomorrow,” he returned, his voice so soft and warm.
She lingered for just a moment longer before giving him a small wave and finally turning to leave.