Page 45 of Deadly Target
12
The next morning, Olivia found Victor sitting on his deck, the dog running around the yard sniffing and digging. Victor was on the phone, and it sounded like he was speaking to Thomas as he went down the list of taskforce members. “How is Ronni?” Pause. “Good. Mitch still okay watching Cooper and Celina?” Pause. “What about Nelson and Sophia? Nothing unusual going on there?”
He was dressed in baggy PJ pants and nothing else, his broad shoulders and chest exposed to the morning sun. Olivia stepped out onto the worn wooden deck in her bare feet, buttoning Victor’s shirt that she’d picked up off the floor. It smelled like his soap and she loved being wrapped in it.
She was sore from her tumble on the concrete at the courthouse and had a nice bruise on her left hip and shoulder. The back of her head was tender as well, but at least she didn’t have a headache. Victor had done a good job doctoring the scratches on her face, although she looked like she’d been in a catfight. She’d already checked in with the hospital and they’d told her Danny was in stable condition. She planned to drop by and visit later in the day.
As she stood there listening to the soft rumble of his voice, she glanced back at the house. Everything was in disarray, so unlike the director. Her eyes caught on the dining room table, barely visible from this angle. There was a box pushed to one side and papers everywhere. The box was labeled “Ansel Dupé.” Had to be the case notes from his father’s murder case.
Once this current situation was resolved, she’d help him with it—if he’d let her.
Heading to Victor, she dropped a kiss on his forehead. He grabbed her arm, giving her a squeeze and pulling her face down for a kiss. He was strong and muscular, and she ran her fingers over his chest.
“Sounds good,” he said into the phone. “Meanwhile, I’m going to question Frankie Molina at some point today…Yeah, Olivia’s CI claims to have some damning information pointing to him being the one who set up the hit on Henry Valiant yesterday. It’s possible Molina is also involved in Cooper’s shooting.”
They discussed Frankie for another minute as Olivia walked into the yard to see Taz. There wasn’t much grass, most having died under the hot sun with only sand to grow in. Taz had it all over his nose and paws. “You’re going to need a bath,” she said to him.
When Victor hung up, she made her way back to the patio. “No coffee?”
He looked tired, a couple days’ worth of beard on his chin. “I haven’t found the box with the coffee maker in it yet. I usually grab a cup on the way to the office.”
She reached for his hand and pulled him out of the chair. “Come on, let’s find it.”
Inside, he used a towel to get the worst of the sand off the dog’s feet, and they began ripping open boxes in their quest for caffeine. As they went, Olivia pulled out other kitchen items, and ended up organizing one shelf with spices. Then she found plates and put those on a different shelf.
Victor found dishtowels and used one to smack her on the ass when she was reaching to place a glass on a high shelf. She grabbed another and started a war with him, laughing at the fact he was a better shot, but was so obviously taking it easy on her, worried about her scratches and bruises.
It was an accident that she found the coffee maker, tripping over a box and knocking it on its side. The contents spilled out, and luckily, the carafe did not break. “Hey, look at that. I found it.”
“Now if I can find the coffee,” Victor said.
Olivia was slightly dismayed at the state of the coffee maker. It was nothing fancy, that was for sure, and she was even more appalled when Victor handed her a bag of grocery store ground coffee beans. She gave him a horrified look. “You can’t be serious. That’s not coffee, that’s garbage.”
He held up a finger. “Wait, Celina gave me some Cuban coffee at Christmas.”
Well, that was better, even though it had to be at least four months old.
He looked at the disaster the kitchen had turned into. All the boxes were open now and no Cuban coffee in sight. “Maybe it’s in the living room.”
They made their way down the hall, finding Taz asleep on the couch. He barely opened his eyes as they started going through those boxes.
“Have you checked on your partner?” Victor asked.
“He’s in stable condition. They’re only letting family see him right now, but I hope to talk to him later today.”
He pulled a blue foil bag from a box. “Aha! Here it is.”
Taz sat up at the excitement and the three of them filed back into the kitchen, the dog sniffing at the mess.
“Remind me to buy you a new coffee pot for your birthday,” Olivia said. “Something that actually can make a decent drink.”
He filled the carafe as she loaded the filter with grounds. “I beg your pardon? What’s wrong with this one?”
“Hey, I’m Italian. I want a machine that makes more than watered-down coffee. It should do espresso shots, and have the ability to froth milk for lattes.”
“Guess I’m not home that much to have fancy stuff,” he said, pouring the water in.
She put her hands on his waist. “We need to change that.”
