Ain't No Place for No Heroes - Taylor Lee Page 0,2
”
“Hold on. First, the last person Zoe would support for mayor is Wade Spencer. But you’re correct. Zoe was hot after our mayor, determined to compromise him any way that she could. When I ruled against filing the case because it wasn’t prosecutable,” he added cryptically, “I was concerned that politics played into Zoe’s fervor for taking down Robertson.”
Seeing Mathis’s interest in the rowdy group surrounding the bar, Chief Drake nodded at the blonde standing between Spencer and Zoe. “I know you met my lieutenant, Tyra Stone, at the open house we held for new detectives. In addition to being one of the most attractive women in my purview, that sassy blonde is as hard-nosed a detective as I have on my squad. And like Zoe, Tyra wouldn’t support Wade Spencer for mayor if he were the last man standing.”
Mathis was relieved. “That’s good to hear. I do remember meeting Detective Stone and was impressed not only with her pulchritude but her razor sharpness. I guess that begs my question—make that questions—plural. You indicated that a decent opponent to Robertson was on the horizon as long as age wasn’t a factor. Now that you’ve reassured me that even as arrogant as Wade Spencer is he’s not running, I admit I’m curious. Who might the aspiring political hotshot be?”
Garrett’s grin widened. “I presume you know Antonio D’Amico?”
Mathis drew back, not hiding his dismay. “I take it you are referring to the Italian ward boss who rides so fine a line between legal and illegal I’d be surprised if he doesn’t have two assholes, one for each of his alter egos. To underscore my view of him, if ever there was a potential candidate that would make compromised Clarence look like a knight in shining armor, it’s Antonio D’Amico.”
Cole joined in Garrett’s uproarious laughter. Managing to control his mirth, Garrett chortled. “Hell, man. I’m not talking about Antonio. But you’re right. Damn, I might even concede that drugged-out Wade Spencer would be a better candidate than Antonio D’Amico. Although you have to admit the reprobate is as engaging a drinking buddy as a guy could ask for.”
Mathis shrugged. “Having spent more than a few long nights in this very bar arguing politics with him, I’ll admit D’Amico is an entertaining opponent. Even if he insists that a martini without Ramazzotti gin and Chinati Vergano vermouth isn’t worth a pot of warm piss.”
Garrett laughed. “Yeah, he laid that one on me too. As if Italians are known for their gin—not! But more to the point. I’m curious. Have you met Antonio’s daughter, Graciela?”
“Can’t say as I have. At least I don’t remember if I did.”
His eyes twinkling, Cole chimed in. “Trust me, you’d remember if you had.”
“Not to belabor the point, but what the hell does Antonio D’Amico’s daughter have to do with the upcoming mayoral race?” When both of his colleagues merely grinned at him, Mathis was incredulous. “Antonio’s daughter plans to throw her hat in the ring?”
Garrett shrugged. “That’s what I hear. And given that Tyra Stone and Zoe Hamilton are spearheading a ‘draft Graciela’ campaign, they should know . . . ”
Mathis didn’t bother to hide his annoyance. “Given your leering attention to the crowd at the other end of the bar, may I presume that Ms. D’Amico is in the house?”
“Uh, yeah, man, that she is. Not to be uncouth, but if Wade Spencer can keep his tongue in his mouth and his hands off her curvy ass, you might be able to catch a glimpse of the inimitable Graciela D’Amico.”
Mathis hesitated for a long moment, then asked drily, “Would she be the spiky-haired brunette Malone is slobbering over?”
Cole chuckled. “Yes, Commissioner, and since you didn’t say it, I will. If Ms. D’Amico fails in her presumptive baptismal political foray, a centerfold in any of the raunchiest gentlemen’s magazines would be a natural next step.”
Mathis studied the young woman, then blew out a soft sigh. Cocking a brow, he concurred blandly. “So it would seem.”
Chapter 2
Gracie brushed Wade’s hand off her butt. She snorted to herself. Good grief, annoying much? How many times and how many ways would it take to convince the lech that she wasn’t interested? Apparently, being subtle wasn’t the answer. But then again, when she’d emphatically told him that she didn’t appreciate his handsy-ness, he’d laughed as though she’d told a funny joke. He apparently concluded that Gracie’s standoffishness was merely a ploy to get his attention, to pretend she wasn’t intrigued by him. Deciding