Page 16 of Feel Me

“I don’t need an interpreter for that,” Vilma says.

Ah, yes, her English is just fine.

“No problem,” Declan says, keeping his smile and lifting the receiver to his phone. “Detective Hernandez speaks plenty of Spanish should you suddenly need an interpreter in the bathroom?Oh, hey, Valencia, it’s Declan. Could you do me a favor? I have the guardian to one of my lead witnesses here and she needs to use the restroom. Do you mind escorting her?” He sighs. “Yeah, ordinarily I wouldn’t ask, but I have this pesky search and seizure request going before the judge involving her brother’s place within the hour, and I can’t spare anyone.” He grins. “Thanks, Valencia. I owe you.”

Vilma’s scowl fades and she begins speaking rapidly. “Am I under arrest?” the interpreter asks for her.

“Not at all,” Declan responds. “Consider it a friendly service here at the D.A.’s office.”

He barely finishes responding before Detective Valencia Hernandez knocks on the door and pokes her head in, smiling brightly. “Hey, Declan.”

“Hey, V. This is Ms. Secco. Would you mind showing her to the restroom?”

“I’d love to,” she says before turning to Vilma and speaking in Spanish.

Vilma walks out in silence, but not before making it clear she doesn’t want Rosana questioned outside her presence. The interpreter meets Declan with a grin. She’s young, clearly impressed and already in love with him.

Declan glances over at me, pausing when he realizes that no, I’m not impressed, and that unlike with the interpreter, his performance didn’t make my panties wet.

I turn to Rosana. “Did you finish your art project?” I ask. “The one with the clay?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet,” she admits. Although she isn’t looking at me, something shifts in her features and she smiles. “I finished the one with the spray paint. My teacher really liked that one.”

“Will you show it to me sometime?” I ask.

“Yeah. But it’s dark,” she says. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“Is it darker than the first one you showed me?” I try not to cringe when I recall the sketch she did of a woman stabbing a man.

She laughs and finally looks at me. “You know I was just trying to scare you right, Miss Fenske?”

“Oh, and you did,” I admit, laughing.

“You like art?” Declan asks.

Rosana’s attention returns to the floor. “Little bit,” she mumbles.

No, she actually loves it. I don’t correct her, giving her a moment to connect with Declan.

“You think you can draw something for me?” he asks.

“You want me draw you a picture?” Rosana she asks, her voice challenging.

“Yeah,” he says. “Why not?”

She narrows her eyes, wondering it seems if he’s placating her. “What do you want me to draw?”

“How about me?” he says.

“You?” she repeats.

“Sure. Draw me as you see me,” he says. “Or, I don’t know, on a white stallion with the sun setting behind me. Just be sure to catch my right side.” He turns a little, showing his profile. “It’s my best side.”

It’s taking all I can not to roll my eyes, especially when the interpreter starts laughing. “Oh, D.A. O’Brien, you’resofunny!” she gushes.

Rosana shoots me a quizzical look and huffs. “This is the guy who’s gonna save me?”

She laughs at my smirk. “Just be sure to catch his good side, Rosana.”

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