Outside The Law. Michelle Karl
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Miss Browder.” Yasmine’s heart sank as Officer Wayne rounded the corner. This was the same officer who’d taken her statement about Daniel. He now gave her a look akin to mild suspicion. “What have you come to see us about today? Not more conspiracy theories, I hope.”
Yasmine nearly lunged at the man, but Noel’s arm shot out to grasp the receptionist’s countertop, blocking her way. Part of her wanted to shove through and give the officer a stern talking-to, but another part felt grateful for Noel’s intervention before she made a bad situation worse.
“Miss Browder was attacked in her home by armed gunmen,” Noel explained. “I happened to be driving by and brought her to safety.”
Officer Wayne eyed Noel warily as though uncertain whether to trust anyone associated with her. The men were silent as they sized each other up, until finally Officer Wayne sighed, dropped his shoulders and waved them forward.
“Right. Come down to the desk so I can take your statements.”
Fifteen minutes later, she stormed out of the station with Noel on her heels, though he was obviously less incensed. They’d given their statements to Officer Wayne, who’d refused to tell her anything about what the dispatched police had found when they’d arrived at her presumably shot-to-pieces apartment.
“He thinks it’s gang violence, Noel.” She glared at him as he came alongside her. “Gang violence!”
“There is a precedent for groups from Buffalo extending their reach into small towns.”
“Do you really think that my apartment was shot up randomly? Three weeks after my brother—You know what? Forget it.” She blinked away hot tears behind her anger lest he, too, think that she was overreacting. She stalked away from Noel, from Officer Wayne and everyone else who looked at her like she’d gone crazy.
The worst of it was, if she’d been in their shoes, she’d probably have thought the exact same thing about her claims and accusations. No proof, no evidence, no reason to suspect anything other than the obvious answer.
“How are you planning to get home?” Noel quickened his pace to get in front of her as they reached the parking lot. “Do you have someone who can give you a ride?”
She stopped walking and stared at the lot. Right. She hadn’t driven here, and Noel’s car was needed as evidence for ballistics. He’d handed over his car keys to Officer Wayne.
“And do you have someplace to stay tonight?” he continued. “Somewhere to go since your apartment is off-limits?”
It was a lot of questions from a man she hadn’t seen in ten years and who didn’t even live here anymore. They might have been friends once, and she might have had a childish crush on him a decade ago, but as grateful as she was that he’d appeared in her street at just the right time and had pursued a law enforcement career, she’d had enough of surprises and other people for one day.
“I’m going to walk down the street and get something to eat, since apparently I’m in no danger and am simply an incidental victim of gang violence. It’s been a long day, and I’d like to get off my feet. I’ll figure out the rest as I go.”
“Want company?”
“Not particularly.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, squeezing her arms to her sides.
“Okay.” He looked disappointed but didn’t press her. “Can I at least give you my phone number while I’m here? In case you run into more trouble, or if you can’t find a place to stay? I’m sure my parents would put you up in the spare room.”
“Aren’t you staying in the spare room?”
“Not if you need it. I can go elsewhere.”
He stopped walking, and she noticed only after she’d taken several steps ahead. Was he really going to give up that easily? The sincerity on his face made her feel bad for rejecting his company. After all, he’d driven her here and gotten his car shot up by the guys who’d come after her.
She’d also be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t curious about what he’d been up to since she’d boarded the plane for Amar a decade ago. Maybe a little company wouldn’t be too bad, at least for dinner. It didn’t have to mean anything. Keep telling yourself that, Yasmine.
Her heart did a little flip when she looked back at him. He’d grown into his frame well. The last time she’d seen him, he was all arms and legs, with spiky blond hair and front teeth that only a mama rabbit would love. Now his shoulders were broad and strong, and he’d filled out his features. His stance radiated confidence, and if she hadn’t known he’d gone into law enforcement, she’d have guessed at some kind of work that required both strength and mental fortitude. He hadn’t flinched when she’d given the order to drive as bullets peppered his car’s windshield. Quite a different Noel from the boy she’d known who’d refused to talk to her for months after he’d confessed his crush on her when she was nine and he, eleven.
She’d developed feelings for him far too late to do anything about it—they’d been like ships passing in the night, because by the time she’d gathered the courage to tell him about her girlish crush at fourteen years old, her parents had already planned to whisk the family off to be with her ill grandmother before she passed away, and the trip became a move. Besides, at the time, she’d thought he probably didn’t care for her anymore. Not as more than a friend, anyway, since he always seemed to be holding hands with one girl or another in the hallways at school.
Surely he’d gotten married and had several children by now. She couldn’t see his ring finger from where she stood, but the thought of allowing a married Noel Black to eat dinner with her and catch up seemed less threatening than it initially had.
“Look, I didn’t mean to sound rash,” she said. “There’s a little Mediterranean restaurant up the road, a five-minute walk. I’d like to hear what you’ve been up to and how you got that flashy new accessory.”
He nodded and rejoined her. They walked more or less in silence toward the restaurant, Yasmine leading the way. After a few minutes, Noel broke the stalemate.
“Yasmine, what you said about Daniel—”
“Can we not? Not right now. Not here.”
“Sure, sure.”
The silence resumed until they neared the intersection where the little restaurant was located. They stood waiting for the walk signal, but when the light turned green, one of the cars at the intersection backfired. Yasmine gasped and ducked out of instinct. Her cheeks immediately warmed as she realized her blunder, seeing an antique-looking red convertible sputter through the intersection and down the road.
She accepted Noel’s outstretched hand to help her back to her feet, but resented the raised eyebrow he turned on her.
“Can you blame me?” she muttered before hoofing it across the street. As if she didn’t have enough to deal with today, without getting jumpy at every loud noise. She pulled open the door to the Mediterranean restaurant and held up two fingers for the hostess. The young woman pulled two menus from a pile at the host stand and seated Yasmine and Noel in a booth by the front window.
Yasmine flipped open the menu but closed it immediately. She knew what she wanted to eat. Something familiar and comforting. Today was not the day to take risks.
“What’s good here?” Noel perused the menu with feigned interest. Yasmine could tell that he wasn’t paying full attention. His frequent glances at her said that he had questions to ask, but he hoped she’d answer them without him saying a word.
She tried to pretend she didn’t notice and gazed out the window at the passing cars. “The moussaka here is fantastic. Better than my aunt’s version, but don’t tell her.”
“Moose-what? What’s in that, eggplant?” He tapped the plastic-covered menu and sighed. “I have to admit, I’m relieved that I was the one driving down your street this afternoon. I was