Til Darkness Falls, page 7
“Oh, come the fuck on. You are not telling me you slept with a guy and didn’t even get his name?” She rolled her eyes. “Boy, where did I go wrong with you?”
“Angela, you should probably move. And I didn’t sleep with him exactly.”
She groused but took his advice and headed for a parking spot. Brian glanced out of his window and shot a look of apology to the guy she had cut off.
“Don’t sass me, Brian.” He really did hate it when she treated him like one of her teenaged sons. “I’m not going to ask what you meant by that, but you are going to see him again, yes? And find out his name this time?” Angela grabbed his shoulder when he opened the door and started to exit the car without replying. “Brian—”
“What would be the point, Angie? It was just a one-night stand.” He tried not to squirm as she squeezed his shoulder tightly.
“Brian, I have honestly never seen you look, well, as content as you did when you walked into the station this morning. Not in six years of knowing you. And I know you didn’t suddenly become Mr. Sunshine for no reason. This guy had something to do with it. So don’t you sit there and tell me that it was just a one-night stand.”
Brian could feel the key card burning a hole in his pocket. It had fallen out of his pocket when he’d changed pants at home that morning. As though the thing had called attention to itself just to taunt him, he’d stared down at it accusingly as it lay on his bedroom floor. He’d had every intention of tossing the damn thing into the garbage, but somehow it had ended up in the pocket of the pants he’d changed into. He didn’t dare mention it to Angela, or the fact that the blond hadn’t seemed to consider their moment together a one-off experience. Brian wasn’t sure he was ready to let it be anything more.
“It was just a moment, that’s all. And now I’ve got a really hot memory that I can pull out when I need a good fantasy to jerk off to.” Brian heard Angela sputter behind him indignantly at his crassness. He pulled away from her grip and got out of the car. “Come on,” he called back as she did likewise. “I’ll flip you for who gets to write up the report and deliver it to the Captain.”
BRIAN squinted at the screen, his temple throbbing in time with the overhead fluorescents as he tried to finish proof-reading his report. Angela’s laugh rang out through the department as she chatted with her husband on her phone, her feet propped comfortably upon her desk. He shot her a nasty glare, which she returned with a smile full of saccharine sweetness. He should have known better than to make a bet with her. She had the devil’s own luck and was a less than graceful winner.
A shadow fell across his desk, and his mood didn’t improve when he glanced up to find Matt “Ratty” looking down him, his usual smirk in place. Brian stared in fascination at the strands of hair Matt had deluded himself into thinking were perfectly adequate to cover his rapidly thinning pate. A real shame since he was only twenty-eight years old. Sympathy diminished his urge to smack the grin off of the man’s worm-like lips, but only the tiniest little bit.
“What’s up, Matt?”
“Captain Preston is looking for you two. She’s wondering why your report is late.”
“Is she now?” Angela ran interference when she saw Brian’s knuckles peak into white caps as his fist tightened. “Well, why don’t you run along and tell her we’ll be right there. Brian was just making it all pretty for her.”
Matt pouted at their apparent unconcern in the face of the captain’s ire and favored them with a futile glare as he stomped away.
“A few days’ suspension for hitting a fellow officer, right?” Brian sighed as he pushed back his chair after instructing his computer to print out a copy of his report. “It’d be like a vacation.”
“I’ll talk to you later, lover.” Angela made kissy noises into the phone as she signed off with Todd. Brian was rather amazed at how hot and heavy they managed to be even after twenty-three years of marriage and two kids. Angela patted him on his arm understandingly as she walked past him to grab the report off of the printer.
As Matt had warned, Captain Preston was extremely displeased that they hadn’t given her their report immediately upon their return and that its content was less than informative. “Yet another crime scene and still you don’t have any new information about this damned assassin? Is that what you’re telling me?”
She was in full bitch mode, pacing behind her desk in a long-legged strut. Brian’s shoulders tensed defensively as her voice rose in pitch. “A witness confirmed our hunch that the hits are being done long-distance. We’re waiting for the ME to complete his workup before we can say for sure, but it’s very likely we’re looking for a sniper.”
Preston sneered. “Yes, that’s very helpful. Maybe you can just flip through the fucking Yellow Pages and look under ‘sniper’ to find the killer!”
Angela folded her arms, hiding her hands in her armpits. Brian knew that she was restraining her fingers before they inadvertently flipped off their boss. He hated to say it, but the captain was right. Knowing how the hits were made did little to narrow down their list of possible suspects.
“Since only criminals have been getting killed, the mayor hasn’t put too much pressure on the department to solve the case. But make no mistake,” she said, bracing her balled fists on her desk and leaning toward them, “I take every new body as a personal affront.” She glared at both of them in turn. “Now, I’m not saying that you’re purposely screwing up this investigation, but I find it astonishing that after four bodies, you haven’t brought me or the District Attorney anything useful.” Her tone dropped, the pitch of her voice projecting a disturbing mixture of consolation and menace. “I have found in my experience that it’s not the crime scene that lacks evidence, but the detective who lacks the intelligence to find it.”
The captain abandoned her standing pose and took her customary seated, cross-legged posture. Her chair rolled back slightly from her desk as she sat, revealing a scandalously short skirt that showcased her gold medal legs. Brian wondered if she thought she was some damn queen, sitting on her throne and hurling down judgment upon her minions.
“I don’t need dead weight in my department, detectives. I hope that I am making myself perfectly clear.”
Brian knew he hadn’t imagined that she’d been staring directly at him when she’d spat out that last bit of snideness. If she wasn’t careful, she’d ruin her hundred-dollar lipstick with her toxic attempts at pep talks. He wasn’t sure why she’d always had such a hard-on for him, but ever since taking over Homicide, she’d made it her personal mission to make his life miserable—criticizing his work, his reports, even his dedication to his job.
“Yes, ma’am, perfectly clear.” He turned away before her icy glare could focus on him. As Angela preceded him back into the squad room, Brian struggled to retain the unaccountably good mood that he’d been in when he’d walked in the door that morning. He was sorely tempted to punch Captain Preston in her perfectly lacquered mouth, gender and rank be damned. “A week for assaulting the brass. Yeah, a wonderful vacation.”
Angela snickered and shook her head in mock disapproval. He knew that she’d be right behind him, waiting her turn.
PETE KARABEL swore as he tripped over yet another piece of debris lying on the floor of the burnt-out building, his clumsiness as much due to his twitchiness as to the lack of light. He didn’t want to be there, but the guy he’d met at the club had promised him some quality smack for a good price. It wasn’t like the Cosminos paid him top dollar for the work he did for them. Breaking kneecaps and threatening the local businesses in hock to the organization wasn’t exactly skilled labor.
“So where’s the stuff?” Pete scratched at his arm, the skin raw from repeated abuse. The ants were back, crawling all over him. He knew how to cure what ailed him, and he didn’t care if he had to dance like a trained bear to get it.
The man threw a smirk over his shoulder and walked further into the building. “Just a little further, buddy. No point in doing business where we can be seen from the street.”
Pete didn’t bother to point out that the only ones who ever came into this neighborhood anymore were junkies looking to score a hit. It wasn’t like they had to worry about the cops. They avoided the area like a plague that was catching. The itching grew worse, and Pete finally drew blood as he worried his skin with dirty, ragged nails. The dealer was a Milano flunky, and if he hadn’t been so desperate for a hit, he’d have wasted the guy as soon as look at him. Fed up with being dragged around by the balls, Pete stopped in the middle of the gutted floor.
“This is good enough. Now show me what you’ve got.”
Pete barely had time to notice that he was standing in a small patch of light cast by the third floor window. His body hit the floor with a heavy thud, and a cloud of dust rose up around him as blood began to pool beneath his head. The other man walked over and looked down at him in disgust. A small package of heroin landed on Pete’s back.
“Enjoy. Courtesy of the Milanos.”
Chapter 3
“WHAT am I doing here?”
Brian looked up at the hotel’s marquee for a third time, but the name didn’t change no matter how long he stared at it. He was indeed standing at the front entrance to the German’s hotel when he should have been home in bed.
“I’m an idiot.”
The realization didn’t stop him from stepping closer to the sliding door until the electronic eye registered his presence. He paused, still trying to talk himself out of it, but when the door began to slide closed, he stepped though before it could.
After the unpleasant meeting with Captain Preston, his day hadn’t gotten any better. Ignore her though he tried, he felt the laser focus of her glare every time she sauntered past his desk. Angela hadn’t been any help either, hounding him ceaselessly about whether he planned to see his mystery man again. By the end of their shift, he was about ready to strangle her. Adding insult to injury, his afternoon had been completely wasted when a rookie patrolman called them out to a suspected murder scene at an old woman’s apartment. It took the medical examiner about five seconds to determine that she’d suffered from a massive coronary when her new neighbor’s dog had barked too loudly. He felt sorry for the woman, sure, but it had taken time away from the actual murders he was trying to solve.
The second his shift had ended at five, he’d waved a perfunctory goodbye to his partner, leaving her in mid-sentence about her favorite new topic—his sex life—and headed to the gym. After a half-hour on the treadmill and a quick dinner at his favorite greasy spoon to ruin all of his efforts, Brian had decided to cut his losses and head home. Lying in bed with a beer and some inane TV sounded like the perfect way to put the day behind him.
So how in the hell had he ended up downtown when he lived five miles away? Brian mumbled threats to himself under his breath as he walked across the hotel lobby to the bank of elevators, but he didn’t deviate from his path. He kept an eye out for the manager who’d harassed him the night before. The man was nowhere to be seen, and the young woman with the shiny nametag who stood behind the check-in desk merely sent him a pleasant smile and a nod. It was too bad. Some good old-fashioned hell-raising might have let him work out whatever had brought him there before he made a complete fool of himself by going any further. Brian sighed as the elevator arrived.
He hadn’t really been paying attention to much the night before except the way the man’s ass had looked in his slacks, but somehow he remembered his floor number. For the first time, he regretted the observational skills that made him a good homicide cop. A chime sounded with a chirpy ding when he reached his floor. Brian watched warily as the doors slid open, but nothing awaited him but an empty, softly lit hallway.
He wanted to blame Angela for keeping the German in his thoughts all day, but he knew it was his own fault that he hadn’t been able to get the other man out of his head. Well, he was here now, and it couldn’t hurt to relieve some tension. After all, what other reason could he possibly have for being there other than the promise of more mind-blowing sex?
Pants on fire. Shit. He’d always sucked at lying to himself. Sex wasn’t the first thing that had come to mind as he’d realized where his subconscious had brought him. He had a ridiculous need to see the blond man’s face, to watch it light up as he talked about long-dead Germans who wrote pretty music. If he were being completely honest with himself, he’d admit that he just wanted to spend some more time with him.
“A complete idiot.”
Sticking his hand in his pocket, Brian fiddled with the key card as he started down the hall. The room wasn’t far from the elevators, and before he was ready, he was standing in front of a door bearing a familiar room number. Brian took a deep breath. Last chance. Though he wanted to think of this as no big deal, he recognized that he was taking a profound step toward admitting it was time to let Dennis go, that he was ready to fill the empty hole his friend’s death had left inside of him. He’d be admitting that he was still capable of opening his heart up to someone.
Or maybe he was over-thinking things, and he was just really horny.
Brian stood there for a long while, staring at the door. His hand closed and opened as though it couldn’t decide whether or not to form the fist that he would need to knock. Before he could decide whether or not to take the plunge, circumstances decided the matter for him. The elevator chime sounded, and Brian panicked as he whipped his head toward the sound. The man’s room was directly down the corridor from the elevators, and whoever got off would see him standing there looking totally suspicious. That asshole manager had already mistaken him for an undesirable the previous night. Deciding not to press his luck, he reached for the key card that was burning a hole in his pocket and jammed it into the electronic lock.
The indicator light turned green, and Brian slipped inside just as the elevator doors swished open. He braced himself to explain to the room’s occupant why he had unexpectedly barged in without knocking, but the complete lack of light told him the German wasn’t there. Closing the door, Brian fell back against it and stared sightlessly into the room’s dark interior.
“All of that for nothing, huh?” Brian wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Maybe the blond’s absence was a sign that it just wasn’t meant to be. It was somewhat comforting to know that he could simply return to his solitary existence with no one the wiser, but at the same time, he felt an unexpectedly intense swell of regret. Brian realized at that moment that, even without the prompt of the person coming off of the elevator, he would have knocked on the door.
A wry smile curved his lips as he fingered the key card one last time. “That’s that, I guess. Time to go home.” His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and the light from the windows allowed him to see the low table sitting next to the couch. He walked over to it and was reaching out to set the key down when the door suddenly opened behind him. Brian turned quickly, feeling like a burglar who’d been caught in the act. Light flooded the room, and he blinked against the brightness.
The tall blond saw him immediately, and the delighted smile that lit up his face made Brian’s heart twist. He sensed that he’d just gotten a much-desired second chance.
“You came back.” The German dropped his coat carelessly across the back of the couch as he prowled toward Brian. Brian heard the crinkle of something from the coat but spared it no mind as he feasted on the sight of the other man.
Damn, he’s even more gorgeous than I remembered.
Brian thought it almost funny that his usual powers of retention should have failed him so critically. But looking at the man walking toward him, Brian realized that his senses were simply inadequate to the task of appreciating him fully. The eyes fixed upon him were bluer than he’d remembered, the shoulders taking up his field of vision broader. Had he always been so tall, with those firm lips that simply begged to be kissed? The memory of what those lips had done to him the night before was enough to make his face flame.
“I-I came to return your key,” he stammered.
The blond’s smile grew as he gave the obvious lie all of the credit it deserved. “If that’s really the only reason, why didn’t you just leave it at the front desk?”
Gorgeous and smart. How was that fair? “I don’t know,” was all Brian could come up with.
The German’s smile faded, and his blue eyes took on a serious cast as he invaded Brian’s personal space. “Why lie to me? Why lie to yourself?”
Brian felt his eyelashes flutter when a long thumb whispered over his cheek. All of the resolve he’d found while standing in the hallway abandoned him in the face of the other man’s overwhelming physical presence. Getting away from the blond as fast as he could suddenly seemed like the most prudent course of action. He was finding it difficult to marshal his thoughts into something useful, however, as his blood abandoned his brain for parts south.
“Last night was a mistake. I don’t do affairs.”
A displeased frown transformed the man’s expression, the kind amusement fleeing as something dark and focused took its place. “Is that what this is? Something tawdry and cheap, a fleeting affair occurring once and never spoken or thought of again?” He moved even closer, obliterating the remaining distance between them. “I didn’t think so. Did you?”
Brian’s breath caught painfully in his throat, his pulse racing as the other man spoke softly in his ear. Their only connection was the hand resting gently against his cheek, but he was fully hard, his arousal throbbing painfully in time with his heartbeat. The blond was right. He hadn’t wanted last night to mean anything, but it did. He was deathly afraid that it meant everything.
“No,” Brian whispered.
The man smiled softly before taking the key card from his hand and slipping it into his pocket. “Then I think you had better keep this, ja?”
As the tall blond leaned closer, his gaze fixed on Brian’s lips, Brian figured it was high time to drop one more barrier. “What the hell is your name?” The question turned into a groan as firm lips brushed against his.
