Laurel Heights 3

by Lisa Worrall

  Under the table, Will nudged Scott’s knee with his. His man may put on a big macho front, but he was all marshmallow on the inside. That little bit of assurance from him, would bolster the young cop for quite some time, and Will loved him for it.

  “Okay,” Will said, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve cleared the house, what do you find in the master bedroom?”

  “Mrs. Petersen was tied to the headboard, blood all over her nightgown.”

  “How was she tied?” Scott asked.

  “With a belt from a robe.”

  “And the bedroom?” Will urged. “Signs of a struggle? Blood?”

  “Blood on the floor and on her,” Kowalski replied. “Trail out the door where the victim was forced down the stairs.”

  “You untied her?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Was she difficult to untie?”

  Kowalski shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Close your eyes,” Will instructed.

  “Pardon me?”

  “It ain’t that hard, son,” Scott drawled. “Close your eyes.”

  “Ignore him, Kowalski.” Will leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “I want you to close your eyes and think about untying Mrs. Petersen.” Kowalski stared at Will for a few moments as if he were insane, then slowly closed his eyes. “Can you see the belt?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What type of fabric is it?”

  “Silk, I think. Smooth, kinda slippery.”

  “Were the knots tight?” Will asked. “Hard to undo?”

  Kowalski frowned as he searched his memory, then opened his eyes, surprise in his gaze as he said, “No, not really. Basic single knot. Didn’t take a lot to release her.” His gaze widened. “You think she tied herself, don’t you?”

  “Do you?” Will replied, raising an eyebrow.

  Kowalski looked from Will to Scott and back again before nodding. “It’s possible.”

  Scott slapped his hand on the table. “We might just make a detective out of you yet, Kowalski.”

  “Why would she kill him?” Davis piped up, obviously irritated that he’d missed most of the action while he was babysitting the kid.

  “Well it’s probably a good idea if we try and find that out, don’t you think?” Scott said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

  “Wow,” Davis snapped. “I guess the rumors about you are true.”

  Will heaved a sigh as Scott’s gaze narrowed and he said softly, “What rumors?”

  A smarter man would have noted the change in the tension of Scott’s shoulders, the deceptively gentle tone and shut his mouth right there and then. Somehow, Will didn’t think Davis was all that smart—he was right.

  “That you’re a cold son-of-a-bitch, kept on a tight leash by your boy-toy, here.”

  “Is that right?” Scott said casually. “They say that?”

  “Scott, don—”

  “They do.” Davis almost looked pleased with himself, as if he and Scott were sharing a joke. “And th—” was all Davis managed before Scott reached across, grabbed his tie, yanked him forward, slammed his head onto the table and held him there with his palm without even ruffling a hair.

  “Carry on, son,” Scott’s tone remained conversational, even though Davis gasped for breath like a fish out of water. “What else do they say?”

  “Scott!” Will knocked Scott’s hand from the back of Davis’ head and helped the young officer to his feet.

  “He’s fuck—”

  “Shut your mouth, boy,” Will ground out. “Or I’ll take off his leash.” He looked at Kowalski who had watched the scene unfold in stunned surprise. “Get your partner out of here, Kowalski,” he said, shoving Davis toward him. “And ask for a transfer. This piece of shit wouldn’t know professional if it shoved a gun up his ass and blew his brains out. He’ll only hold you back.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Sorry, sir,” Kowalski muttered as he quickly ushered his spluttering partner from the room.

  Will strode to the door and pulled it closed so hard, it rattled in its frame. He turned to glare at Scott and threw his hands up in despair. “What the fuck was that?”

  “He pissed me off,” Scott replied, nonchalant.

  “You assaulted a fellow officer!” Will yelled. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Me?” Scott yelled back. “What about him? He was the asshole!”

  “What if the cameras were on?” Will ran his hands through his hair. He was furious at Scott’s stupidity. “What if someone was in the other room and saw the whole thing!”

  “Nobody saw anything.” Scott put his hands on his hips and stared Will down. “Unless you plan on writing me up?”

  “I won’t need to if he makes a complaint!”

  “Please,” Scott scoffed. “His balls ain’t big enough.”

  “Scott,” Will complained. “This could be serious. What if he ma—what’re you doing?” Scott locked the door then walked slowly to the video camera on the wall and unplugged it. Will shook his head as Scott approached him. “Don’t you da—”

  Will didn’t get to finish his sentence because it was swallowed by the press of Scott’s lips. He tried to push at Scott’s shoulders, but the man was immovable, and his traitorous fingers decided that sliding over Scott’s shoulders and into his hair made much better sense. “Not here.” Will mumbled when Scott finally let go of his mouth and slid his lips along Will’s jaw. Scott slipped his hands around Will’s waist and down over his ass, pulling him closer, grinding their hips together. “Stop,” he moaned, albeit half-heartedly.

  “Can’t,” Scott growled against Will’s collar. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

  Will swallowed hard, his heart racing. Scott knew every one of his buttons to push and the heat in Scott’s gaze told Will he was prepared to push them all at the same time. But one of them had to be sane. Will summoned up the strength and shoved at Scott with enough force to make Scott release him and take a couple of steps back, but not for long. Will held up his hand and shook his head.

  “Hold it right there, detective. “We’ve got work to do.”

  Scott pulled a petulant face and reluctantly nodded. “But we are going to finish this conversation later.”

  Will raised an eyebrow, a smile twitching at his lips. “Which part?”

  “That last part,” Scott replied, taking a step closer. “Where I stick my tongue—”

  “Get out!” Will pointed at the door and Scott opened it, grinning from ear to ear. Shaking his head, Will took another minute to get himself together before he followed Scott.

  “Okay.” Will sat down at his desk. “So, she could’ve tied herself up and she had his blood all over her.”

  “Yep,” Scott agreed. “Still doesn’t give us the why.”

  “The why we’ll have to work a little harder for.” Will grabbed his pad and picked up his pen. “Did you say something about coffee?”

  “Two sugars in mine.”

  As Noah Lieberman loped across the room toward them, Scott pushed back his chair and headed to the coffee machine on the table by the window. “All done?” Will asked.

  “Yeah.” Noah grabbed the chair from behind his own desk and wheeled it across the room, sinking into it when he reached Will.

  “What did the hospital say?”

  “They’re keeping them both in overnight.” Noah yawned widely. “They got the kid a rollaway in his mother’s room.”

  “Good.” Scott put one of the three mugs of coffee he carried on the desk in front of Will, passed one of the others to Noah, then slumped back down onto his chair. “What did she say?”

  “Who?” Noah asked, curling his fingers around the mug and lifting it to his lips.

  “Seriously?” Scott said, staring at Noah in disbelief. Will squashed the urge to snigger as Noah blushed furiously at the derision in Scott’s tone.

  “The wife, Noah,” Will clarified. “The wife.”

  “Nothing r
eally,” Noah replied, his gaze flitting between Will and Scott, lingering a little longer on Scott, of course.

  Will swallowed another snigger. Did he mind the fact that the young detective was harboring a big doomed-forever-to-be-unrequited love for his partner? No. He was secure enough in his relationship with Scott to not be concerned. Besides, he’d learned his lesson with Kelly, the detective assigned to Scott when Gracie left town. He thought Kelly wanted Scott for himself, and the guy hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to make Will think otherwise. It had put a little strain on Will and Scott’s relationship for a while, until it turned out that Kelly was involved with their Captain. The, as far as they were aware, straight as a die Glenn Hall.

  “What does ‘not really’ mean?” Scott was losing patience, Will knew that. Noah, unfortunately, did not.

  “Not really?” Noah repeated. “It means not re—”

  Scott slammed his hand down on the desk, making Noah flinch and almost spill coffee on himself. Will grabbed a piece of paper, screwed it into a ball and tossed it at Scott’s head. It earned him a scowl, which Will ignored and turned to address Noah.

  “What he’s trying to say is,” Will reflexively caught the paper ball Scott tossed back at him, “how did she seem to you? Did she behave in a way that seemed… I don’t know… off?”

  “No.” Noah shook his head. “She acted like someone had just murdered her husband. Distraught, traumatized, wouldn’t let go of her son, the usual. Why?” Noah frowned. “What am I missing?”

  “Nothing yet,” Will assured him. He stretched his arms high above his head and winced as his back cracked. “We can’t do any more until after the autopsy tomorrow. That should give us some answers.”

  Scott nodded. “By then she’ll have been discharged and we can question her again.”

  Will took a healthy swig of his coffee, grimacing as the almost cold, bitter liquid slid over his tongue. The damn stuff had probably barely been lukewarm when Scott had poured it from the pot, now it was like cold mud. He checked his watch. It was after midnight. Dancing was out. He’d had a hard enough time sweet-talking the teacher to stay open until ten-thirty for a lesson they didn’t show up for, so he was pretty damned sure it was going to take more than that to get him to give them another shot. Not that Scott would be heartbroken.

  “Go home and get some sleep, Noah,” Will said, standing up. He picked up his jacket and pulled it on. “While we’re at the coroner’s office in the morning, I want you to do a door to door of the cul-de-sac. Find out what the neighbors thought about the Petersen’s perfect marriage.”

  Noah downed the rest of his coffee, pulled the same face Will had, then stood up. “G’night, Will,” he smiled hesitantly at Scott, “Scott.”

  “’Night, Noah.”

  Scott’s smile in response was so bright, Will was afraid poor Noah was going to melt under its heat. When the double doors to the department had closed behind the blushing young man, Will shook his head slowly at Scott.

  “What?” Scott stood up and began to shrug on his jacket.

  “You know what.”

  “I only said goodnight.”

  “You do know he’s going home to jerk off to that goodnight, don’t you?” Will walked toward the exit. “C’mon, hoss, let’s get out of here before you accidentally smile at someone else.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Scott complained as he followed Will out of the department to the elevators. “What do you think Kowalski is going to be doing to the memory of your breathy reassurance?”

  “Breathy?” Will pressed the button to call the elevator. “Breathy?”

  “Just close your eyes,” Scott mimicked in an affected voice. “Tell me what you see.” The elevator doors opened, and Scott walked in ahead of him. “I’ll tell you what he sees,” Scott muttered. “Your stupid-ass, butt-naked. Noah ain’t the only one who’s going to fall asleep with his dick in his hand.”

  Will laughed loudly as the elevator doors reopened on the underground parking lot. “Jealous much?” he questioned, pulling his keys out of his pocket as they walked toward the car.

  “No more than you,” Scott shot back, his lips twitching.

  Will opened the car and slid behind the wheel. He started the engine and waited for Scott to close the passenger door before responding. “Please,” he said, putting the car into reverse. “Why would I go out for steak,” he pulled out of the space and headed for the exit, “when I’ve got cracker barrel meatloaf at home?”

  “Wow,” Scott deadpanned. “I think that might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  Will grinned wickedly and tipped Scott a lascivious wink before pulling out into the line of traffic. “I think you may be right.”

  Chapter three

  Scott dismissed the insistent boom of the Darth Vader march on his cell phone before it woke Will. He smothered a groan at the time displayed on the screen—7.30 a.m. By the time they got home and into bed last night—this morning—it had been just after two. It was Sunday for God’s sake. Waking up at 7.30 a.m. on a Sunday was un-fucking-American. He stretched languidly and rolled over. Will lay beside him on his back, his head turned slightly toward him, his breath falling in steady puffs from between his parted lips. Scott’s lips curled into a gentle smile as his gaze slid slowly over the planes and curves of Will’s face. Every line was comfortingly familiar, yet each time he woke up beside him, it was as if he was seeing Will for the first time.

  The sheet had slipped down around his waist and a shaft of light from between the slats of the venetian blinds at the window, fell across Will’s honey-toned skin. As always, Scott felt a surge of anger in the pit of his stomach, when he caught his morning glance of the scars on Will’s soft flesh. Some of them were superficial, short, narrow, already faded to silvery lines, but some were longer, wider, still red and raised, where the knife had cut deeper.

  Just over a year ago, not long before Randall had been killed in prison, they’d been the leads on a case involving a spate of killings within the LGBT community. The maniac picked up men at a nightclub and took them to a cheap motel, where he tortured them in the most horrific of ways before making his kill. Unaware the unsub was in fact Greg Maxwell, their own coroner, Will had insisted on being bait, and nothing Scott said would change his mind. That night, Scott’s worst fears came true when Will was taken by Maxwell, but not to any cheap motel. It had taken them hours to find him and, when they did… Scott closed his eyes against the images of Will tied to the bed in Maxwell’s cabin in the Sebago camp site, in Harriman State Park, naked, barely conscious, rivulets of blood running down his skin, turning the white sheet beneath him crimson.

  Scott softly traced the line of one bumpy scar with the tip of his finger and swallowed hard. He thought he’d lost him that night. Will had been so still, his breathing so shallow and the blood… there was so much blood—

  “I’m fine.”

  Scott lifted his gaze to find Will watching him from beneath his long dark lashes. “I know,” he said, with a wistful smile. “I know, it’s just—”

  “Ssh,” Will soothed, pushing his fingers through Scott’s dark hair, combing it back from his face.

  “If I hadn’t gotten to you in time….” Scott shook his head.

  “But you did.”

  “But if I hadn’t—” The words were stilled by Will’s lips on his. Scott raised himself up on his elbow and took immediate control of the kiss, just as Will knew he would. In fact, he knew Will well enough to know that had been his aim.

  Scott slid his hand slowly up Will’s chest and circled his nipple with his forefinger, teasing it until it hardened under his caress and Will moaned low in his throat. He thoroughly explored Will’s mouth, taking his time as he skimmed over his teeth, lapping gently at Will’s tongue with his own. Will whimpered when Scott scraped his blunt nail over the sensitive flesh of his nipple and Scott intensified the kiss, reveling in the sounds Will made and the way his fingers dug into Scott’s ba
ck as he sought for more. When Will’s scrabbling fingers on his skin became more frantic, Scott reluctantly let go of his mouth and bit-kissed along the length of Will’s neck, pulling the flesh into his mouth and sucking softly—not hard enough to bruise, but enough to drive Will crazy. His baby had a neck kink.

  “Scott,” Will urged.

  “I’m right here,” Scott muttered against his skin, making his way down Will’s chest. He drew a path with the tip of his tongue, dampening the trail of hair that led to where Will wanted his touch the most. By the time he reached Will’s cock, it was hard against his thigh, weeping freely, drops of pre-cum wetting his skin. Scott curled his fingers around the base of Will’s shaft and slipped his mouth over the head. Will instinctively bucked into his mouth and Scott pressed him back into the mattress, holding him steady. He worked Will’s cock like a goddamn porn star—even if he did say so himself—and, as he did, reached behind him with his free hand and opened his ass as much as he could without lube.

  “I’m gonna come,” Will panted. “Scott, I’m gonna come.”

  Scott quickly pulled off Will’s cock and tightened his grip on the base, stopping his orgasm in its tracks. “Not yet, you’re not,” he said, straddling Will then yanking open the nightstand drawer and snatching up the small bottle of lube stored inside. He squirted some onto his hand and coated Will’s cock before lubing up his fingers. Leaning down, he captured Will’s mouth again and pushed two fingers into his ass, stretching the loosened muscle as he pumped in and out in time with the short stabs of his tongue between Will’s lips. He finally dragged his mouth from Will’s and got high up on his knees. Reaching behind him, he gripped Will’s shaft and slowly lowered himself down.