Page 50 of The Fire We Make

Joy whistled. The NYPD was clearly trying to catch the big fish and were throwing the book at poor Blue to ensure he helped them do it. Joy wasn’t familiar with this mafia or their leader, but if they were anything close to Byron Thibodeaux and herself, no matter what dreams the NYPD sold, only God could stop Blue from being touched if he snitched.

In the midst of making note of her preliminary observations and potential issues to review, her desk phone jolted her out of her thoughts.

“Hello?” she answered the call.

“Ms. Thibodeaux.” Ace’s voice greeted her through the receiver.

“Mr. King,” she replied.

“I assume you received your assignment.”

“I did.”

“Good. Come see me in my office, let’s rap.”

“On my way,” she said, then put the phone back on the dock to end the call without waiting for a response.

Swiftly, she gathered her laptop, notebook, and phone and headed down the hall.

She stopped her stride when she made it to the large wooden desk that housed his receptionist. Jess smiled and approached door labeled with his name and knocked, announcing Joy’s presence.

“Send her in,” his voice called from the other end.

Joy stepped inside and saw Ace sitting at his desk with files and photos spread out in front of him. On the table at the seating area beside his desk were even more papers scattered. His suit jacket was slung on the back of his chair and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing corded muscle and tattoos.

He didn’t look like most lawyers Joy had seen. He was built like he had stepped straight off of someone’s football field. That, along with the thin gold chain around his neck and diamond studs in his ears, made him appear more like a record label executive than the heir to a legal empire, but she supposed when you had generational wealth, you weren’t bound to the constraints of professionalism politics.

“Good morning,” Joy said, walking deeper into the office.

“Good morning,” he answered, pinning her with his amber gaze. “I wanna start by going through this evidence with a fine-tooth comb.”

Joy dropped her belongings on Ace’s desk, then they both moved to the small table. She too removed her blazer, then turned to place it on the back of one of the chairs.

“You keep yo heat on you at all times, huh?” Ace asked, humor lacing his voice as he noticed her desert eagle tucked in the back of her skirt.

“Never leave home without it,” Joy answered with a shrug. She turned to face Ace who had a grin on his lips and something Joy couldn’t name in his eyes.

“You know how to use that thing?” he asked.

I could shoot you between those pretty eyes blindfolded, Joy wanted to say.

“Pray we never have to find out,” she said instead.

Ace huffed out a laugh then slid over, motioning for her to join him.

They organized the sheets of paper into piles then divided them between each other.

In their close proximity, Joy was all too aware of Ace’s body heat but she pushed the attention away in favor of focusing on the task at hand.

Going through the evidence listed in the police report, she noticed immediately that things weren’t right.

The bust was too clean, the intel too perfect. They knew exactly where to go and what they were looking for and that couldn’t have just come from random surveillance.

The warrant for the raid was signed quickly. Too quickly based on just an anonymous tip and a day of surveillance.

The cops identified Blue almost immediately when he showed up, in fact it seemed as if they were waiting on him despite not having any prior surveillance of him.

“The amount of drugs they allegedly found doesn’t match the amount of cash that was found at the spot,” Joy said. Her mind was moving a mile a minute and her mouth was following. “And look at the guns. No one at Blue’s level would leave the serial numbers on them. These bitches look brand new.” She stopped talking abruptly, realizing she was getting too excited and talking too much.