The Truant Officer Read Free Page B

“Let’s get down to business, Jorge. Can I call you Jorge?”
    “It’s my name.”
    “I’ve seen the video.” It was distributed to all news outlets, hoping someone had recognized the assailant, but Jessi was more interested in the victim. “I saw that the woman paid with a credit card, so you know her name. I need the name, Jorge, do you understand?”
    “I understand that I handed over everything to the police, and it’s up to them what is released and what isn’t.”
    “The police should have stopped these monsters months ago. I’m trying to save this woman’s life, not to mention the next one—and if we leave it up to the police, I guarantee you there will be another victim. I saw you talking to her on the video, it looks like you liked her, maybe even knew her.”
    “I told you—I’ve got nothing to say.”
    She moved close to him and whispered, “Perhaps you should reconsider your answer, and then I’ll reconsider bringing in INS to have you sent back over the border.”
    “For your information, I’m an American citizen. I was born and raised in this country. Were you?”
    Threats were working about as well as nice did, so she went to the tactic that never failed. She bent over enough so that Jorge could get a good view of her long legs, and flashed her irresistible smile. “Maybe we can work something out.”
    “I don’t know what you’re getting at, lady,” he exclaimed, his attention wandering behind her.
    Before she could even follow his gaze, she felt the man’s presence.
    She turned quickly to see the thick gelled hair and out-of-date sideburns of Officer Brandon Longa.
    “Are you cheating on me, baby?” he said in his thick Brooklyn accent, grinning from ear to ear. Longa was the lead investigator on the case, and after a few dates, had become the inside source that had leapfrogged Jessi over the competition. Like her, Longa was in the desert doing penance for things that happened back in New York, where he was once a NYPD officer, and he thirsted every day to get back there.
    She gritted her teeth and forced her most flirtatious smile. “C’mon, Brandon, I need that credit card.”
    “When we decide to release the name of the victim, you’ll be the first to know.”
    “Pretty please,” she begged, flipping her hair like she was trying to get out of a traffic ticket.
    His smile turned sly. “I might have an idea of how we can work things out.”
    Jessi whispered back, “What do you have in mind?”
    Longa turned to Jorge. “I’m gonna need your bathroom key.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Sorry, did I speak English? My bad—give me el keyo for el bathroomo.”
    Jorge grumbled under his breath as he handed the oversized key to the plain-clothes police officer. Longa took Jessi by the hand and escorted her to the back of the station, with Jessi receiving more than her share of dirty looks from the other reporters and police. He opened the door and led her inside the cockroach-infested restroom.
    He pulled her into a tight embrace, his hands roaming over her most sought after real estate. He then started to kiss her.
    “Slow down, Brandon,” she cautioned, but her actions didn’t match her words, as she ran her hands along his hips to the back of his tight-fitting pants.
    “Don’t have time to slow down, baby. You want the name, then let’s get down to business.”
    Desperate times called for desperate measures. She took out a sanitizing spray from her purse and began spraying it profusely around the room, trying to remove the stench of urine. She covered the sticky floor with paper towels until it acted as wall-to-wall carpeting. She then awkwardly knelt on the floor and forced her most seductive look up at Brandon.
    He broke into heavy laughter. “You were really going to do it! I just wanted to see how far you’d go—what wouldn’t you do for a story?”
    From a kneeling position, she threw a punch. She missed her target, catching him with a glancing blow on the left