I indicate into the school, concentrating on manoeuvring the car around the sharp bend. I don't want to show myself up in front of Bosco – he's always complaining about my "terrible" driving.
Like he can do any better.
Men.
I'm right. He's watching me fixatedly, grinning as I narrowly miss the curb. I roll my eyes, disappointed at myself. "Don't say a word," I warn, careful not to even look his way. I hear him chuckle and I shake my head. He can never just let it be…
"What makes you think Tariq Combs will be here?" he asks. I glance toward him, shrugging.
"Gathering the troops. This is war now Bosco. Whoever was stupid enough to do this to Tariq's girl is gonna get what's comin' to 'em," I reply, pulling into a tight parking space.
"Do you think it's a rival gang?" he asks, frowning.
"No. I think it's someone who doesn't know what they've just done."
He falls quiet – a sure sign he agrees with me. I make a move to get out of the car, tugging at the cool metal of the handle. The feel of Bosco's hand on my thigh stops me, sending shivers down my spine.
I stare down at where his hand rests, gulping hard.
Please move, please…
"Faith," he says softly. I look up at his face, his eyes expressive. Expressive of what I'm not entirely sure.
"Yeah?" I say, clearing my throat, feigning a nonchalance I don't really feel.
"It's good to be workin' with you again."
I don't really hear his words. I just want him to move his Goddamn hand. Not that it's making me uncomfortable – quite the opposite. I feel too comfortable. I stare down at my thigh and he follows my gaze.
As if reading my mind, he pulls away like a man burnt. An involuntary sigh escapes my lips and I'm sure he catches it.
I laugh, to break the silence. "I thought you'd be glad to get rid of me," I say, pushing open my car door. He follows my lead stepping out into the midday sun. He looks at me considering something, his lips quirked into some sort of a smile. I don't like it.
Not when I can't understand what's behind that smile.
He shrugs out of his leather jacket, obviously feeling the scorching heat. He clearly decided to wear street clothes.
A change at work is good I suppose. His loose navy t-shirt and jeans hardly look appropriate but I say nothing. God if only I had the power to dress him…I'd have him looking so good. Not that he doesn't look good already-
No! Stop Faith! Don't go there. It's not worth the grief.
"Yokas!" I hear him call. He's half way across the parking lot, nearing the huge grey building they call a school. I think it looks more like a prison. "Come on daydreamer." I flick down my sunglasses, which are positioned on top of my head, over my eyes, relieving them from the glaring sunlight.
"Coming," I call out, slamming the car door shut. Instinctively I lock it. One of the annoying quirks of being a police officer; you never forget safety.
He waits like a gentleman by the steps, although his impatient glare hurries me along. No matter how hard he tries he will never shirk some of his little immature personality traits.
I lead him around to the basketball court around the back, young kids filling the space. Some sort of loud music blares from a speaker system on the side of the court we're passing, young girls dancing, young guys watching.
Clothing is virtually non-existent, and the excuse for this would probably be the weather although I doubt if that's the real reason. Bosco's probably really enjoying the show. I steal a glance at him to confirm my suspicions. To my surprise his head is hanging low, avoiding any eye contact with the young strident girls, his hands dug into his jean pockets.
My eyes scan the crowd for any familiar face and Teddy comes into view. He's actually quite hard to miss. He stands at least five inches taller than the crowd, with a heavy build and dreadlocked hair.
He reminds me of some cuddly black character in the movies. But his personality is in stark contrast. He's tuff, violent and intelligent. A deadly combination in my view. He's been in and out of prisons more times than he has actually attended school, and that is not an exaggeration. He meets my gaze and nods. Filtering through the kids I make my way to where he stands, occasionally glancing back at Bosco to make sure he's not gotten lost.
"Detective Yokas," Teddy says, "What can I do for you today?"
I see him note Bosco's presence, a frown forming on his face. "Oh look! It's Robin!"
I smile despite myself, looking round at Bosco who seems less impressed by the young guy's comment. Quickly I avert my gaze back to Teddy.
"Hey Teddy, it's not you I'm looking for," I tell him, brushing my hair out of my face as I slide the glasses back onto my head. "Tariq. Do you know where I can find him?"
"Depends," he replies, squinting in the sunlight, "Why you lookin' for him?"
"I just want to talk to him about Jacinta's murder Teddy, that's all," I say earnestly. He shrugs, clearly not wanting to be of any help.
"Hey Coolio," Bosco's voice cuts in, his words dripping with sarcasm "Listen we ain't after you or your petty drug ring today ok? We just wanna talk to Tariq. Now why don't you run along like a good little messenger boy and get him for us huh?"
"What'd you call me?" Teddy scowls, pushing forward towards Bosco. "I ain't no ones messenger boy!" His friends hold back his arms, while I place one hand on Bosco's chest, directing him away from the overgrown teenager.
"Would you just calm down!" I order Bosco, his eyes searing with anger.
"It's jag-offs like this that make your investigation harder Faith!" he spits back at me, "You just gonna stand here and take it?"
"Bosco I am dealing with this situation," I say trying to keep my voice monotone. I turn back to Teddy and smile weakly. "Come on Teddy, you know I like you and your crew, I just wanna talk with Tariq."
He glances away, his jaw contracting. Sweat pours down his skin, staining his grey t-shirt that hangs out of his baggy faded jeans. "Please," I say softly. He looks back at me and grins.
"You know I'd do anything for you Yokas," he says. I hear Bosco grunt something but I choose to ignore it.
"Thanks Ted," I breathe. I'm sure I must look a right state. I feel beads of sweat roll down my neck, and fan my probably blazing red face with my hand. He turns and heads through the crowd of dancing teens and I follow his lead. I can't help but watch them dance. They seem so carefree and young here. A part of me wishes it could be like this all the time for them. The other, more rational, part knows that it isn't.
"You like hip-hop Detective Yokas?" he asks noticing me stare at the kids. I chuckle.
"Couldn't even tell you what it is," I reply. He laughs, his voice gruff.
"I'm sure you're a cute dancer, you have to show us yer moves sometime," he teases, giving me a playful wink. We step nearer a brick wall, the shade relieving some of the intense heat. "Listen, he's not really himself ok? He's uh…if he says somethin' he probably doesn't mean it a'right?"
I nod. "It's ok Teddy, I get it."
I rub my hand across the back of my neck realising just how warm I am. Tariq comes into view, leaning back against the wall, cigarette in hand. He's talking to a few of his mates. He looks different somehow. He's a beefy kind of kid, all brawn and no brains basically. He always thinks with his fists rather than his head, and it's a shame because if he didn't I think he could be something special. He notices me and smiles. I return it, slowly approaching him. The noise from the kids still pounds in my ears. They stand just a few metres from the wall, still in full view, but they seem a million miles away.
"Hi Tariq," I say, barely in a whisper, "How you doin'?"
His mates scuttle off in different directions.
He chuckles, his smoky breath swirling in the air. "I've been beta. You?"
"Oh…you know," I reply, a little unsure of myself. He places his cigarette between his lips, digging his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry Tariq. For Jacinta. I'm workin' her case…"
"Yeah. I know," he interrupts, pulling his cigarette from his mouth. He throws it to the ground, stomping it out with the toe of his trainers.
I frown, bewildered by his statement.
"How…"
"Doing a bit o' research," he says, his gaze cutting to me. Feeling the intense scrutiny of his stare I shift uncomfortably on my feet. I feel Bosco move behind me. I didn't notice until now but he's unbearably close. His breath laps against my neck, his body heat warring mine. I notice Tariq look towards him. "You're back," he states.
"Yeah…you miss me?" Bosco asks grinning. I hear Tariq chuckle, shaking his head.
"How could I not man?"
"Tariq I need some information," I cut in. His gaze falls to the ground.
"No can do Yokas," he replies simply. I sigh.
"Come on Tariq, I know you know somethin'. You gotta help me out here. Help me put this guy away for good."
He laughs bitterly. "That's not what I want for this guy. I want him to feel exactly what Jacinta felt when he did what he did to her."
"I understand, believe me I do," I say. He glowers at me.
"You ain't got the first idea."
"Tariq…please…don't do anything that'll get one of your crew put away. I don't want to have to arrest one of 'em," I tell him, gulping hard. He laughs again.
"What you think I'm gonna get one of my boys to do this for me? Nah…I wanna see his face when he gets what's comin' to him," he says, hoarsely.
"Tariq…" I breathe. He looks to Bosco again.
"I wanna talk to him alone," he says nodding towards my former partner. I frown.
"If you wanna talk to him, I have to be here," I say defiantly. He shakes his head.
"This ain't no demand situation Yokas. I got the goods, you gotta play my game a'right?"
"No! No Tariq it's not 'a'right'! Jacinta's dead and I don't have time for your games!" I yell my maternal side getting the better of me. His temper flares, his nostrils expanding as he rushes me, slamming me hard against the wall. I feel my head make contact with the brickwork and I wince. Bosco is shocked but he doesn't delay in dragging Tariq off me, throwing him back.
"Take it easy!" he barks at him. He turns to me, concerned. "You ok?"
I nod. "I'm fine."
"I know this ain't no game Yokas! My girl's dead! My kid is dead! Don't you come up in here hollering at me! You got no right!" he spits out, gesturing wildly. Bosco approaches him at a furious speed, pushing him backwards. Tariq isn't ready for the attack and stumbles over his own feet.
"Calm down Combs!" he orders, "I'm warning you or I'm gonna throw your ass in jail for the night!"
Breathing heavily the young male straightens up, glaring towards me.
"Can't you keep your bitch on her leash?" he retorts. Bosco's cheeks, already red and bright, flush with even more colour and his fist connects with Tariq's face.
"Bosco!" I cry out, fighting for air.
"That's police brutality!" Tariq announces, cradling his cheek in his hand. I push my way past Bosco, placing one hand on Tariq's back, the other heading for his injured face. He flinches at the contact and for one terrifying second he looks like he's ready to lash out again.
"Let me see," I say gently, pushing down his hand. I trace my fingers over the red mark, sighing like an over-protective mother. He meets my gaze, his own teary and dejected.
"We were gonna get our own crib me and her. Gonna raise the baby. I was gonna get a proper job. But she's so Goddamn stubborn! I told her not to go out last weekend, I told her!" he says to me. I place both hands on his shoulders.
"I know Tariq, I know," I say hushing him, "Please let me help."
"Let me talk to Boscorelli alone," he counters, staring into my eyes. I recoil straightening back up. I look back at my partner, whose eyes are wild, like he's ready for a fight. I turn to him, placing both hands on my hips.
"He's angry Bos ok? Just be patient please?" I beg. He avoids my eyes at all costs, his own gaze settling on Tariq behind me.
"Yeah…"he mumbles. I place one hand on his chest, my fingers gently grazing against his toned muscles through his t-shirt. Blood pulsates through my hand and up my arm, causing an upsurge in the rate of my heartbeat. The already sweltering heat feels like it's been brought up about ten degrees and I find it hard to catch my breath.
"Please Bos…for me," I whisper gazing up at him. He stares back down at me, his eyes boring holes in mine.
"Yeah…course I'll be," he replies, gulping. I smile feebly and turn back to Tariq, my hand losing contact with Bosco. There is a tingle in my fingers, and I realise I miss him a little.
"Same goes for you, no fighting or I'll have to call both your mother's," I joke rather lamely, shaking off my dizzy head.
"Thanks Yokas," he says, nodding at me.
"No problem," I reply leaving both guys alone to either talk or fight it out themselves.