Here’s another shocking moment from my work-in-progress, VIVA ACAPULCO: Detective Emilia Cruz Book 9.
~
The squadroom was
unusually quiet that morning, probably because troublemakers Castro and Gomez weren’t there yet.
The detectives who were there drooped over their keyboards as if a collective hangover was in progress. Silvio’s door was closed.
Emilia dumped her shoulder bag into the desk drawer on top of the Las Perdidas binder, slumped into her chair and switched on her computer. As always, the police intranet was slow to wake up, the hard drive in the computer box under the desk groaning ominously. Her monitor screen flickered a few times before showing a truncated seal of the city of Acapulco; a wavy and pixelated hand holding stalks of
wheat.
“Madre de Dios,” Emilia muttered. Sometimes it took as much as ten minutes for the system to find itself. She grabbed her mug and headed for the coffee maker across the room.
Sandor stood next to it, glassily watching the last drops of coffee trickle through the filter basket into the full carafe. He clutched an empty mug in both hands.
“Oye.” Emilia bumped him with her elbow. “Either get yourself a cup of coffee or get out of the way.”
“Jesu Cristo,” Sandor said with a grimace and shuffled aside. “Stop yelling.”
“Nobody’s yelling.” Emilia filled her mug, hesitated, then splashed some coffee into
his. “Sore head?”
“Twelve shots of tequila.” Sandor sucked down the coffee as if it was going to save his life.
Emilia looked at him over the rim of her own
mug. “Death wish?”
“Castro was buying.” Sandor inhaled more coffee and seemed to stand a little straighter. He was a good looking man a few years older than Emilia with neatly barbered glossy hair. “Took everyone out to celebrate. Well, everyone except you and Silvio.”
So all the other detectives got bombed last night, which is why they were wrecked today. What a bunch of pendejos. Still Emilia couldn’t help but be curious. “What was Castro celebrating?”
“Wouldn’t say. Just that he had excellent news from friends in high places. The kind worth celebrating. Doubt he'll be in today.” Sandor finally raised sheepish eyes to her. “Yeah, I know. But when was the last time Castro paid for anything?”
Emilia took her mug back to her desk where the screen had
stopped flickering. She typed in her password, navigated to her inbox, and gave a little gasp of excitement at the subject line of the email at the top of the queue.
Re: Petition for Permission to Marry
She clicked open the message.
Her petition had been denied.
For a moment the
screen blurred and it was hard to breathe. The cursor jinked around the screen as her hand on the mouse trembled.
Friends in high places.
Emilia threw herself across the squadroom, snatched the coffee carafe out of the machine, and dumped eight cups of hot brew into the fan vent of Castro’s computer.
~
Find Detective Emilia Cruz books on Amazon & all other
online bookstores.
