by J. P. Bowie
“Or guilty.”
“Sam? Don’t think so, Joe. He’s been with the department—”
“For years, yes I know… So had Murdoch.”
Scott stared at him for a long moment. “You’re basing this on what…the fact he couldn’t look you in the eye?”
“That, and my gut, which isn’t foolproof, but doesn’t let me down too many times.”
“Still…” Scott didn’t look convinced. “You have to admit it’s a long shot.”
Joe nodded and sighed. “You’re right. Best not to go off all half-cocked until I’ve thought about it some more.”
Scott looked relieved. “So, how’re you doing?” he asked in a quick change of subject. “It’s good to see you not strapped up like a mummy anymore. And you got Barney home again, that’s good.”
Barney, hearing his name mentioned, pricked up his ears and padded over to lie on Scott’s feet. He had made a big fuss when Scott first came over but had gotten bored when they’d wanted to talk rather than pay attention to him.
“Yeah, the sling is a lot easier to handle. I can actually pick things up again. They’re taking the staples out day after tomorrow.”
Scott winced. “That should be fun.”
“No kidding…and I start physical therapy next week.”
“And how is Riley?”
“He’s good.”
“How good?” Scott’s grin was more like a leer. “And when do we get to meet him?”
Joe rolled his eyes. “Where’s Jeremy when I need him? If and when you do get to meet him, I hope you won’t act like some adolescent schoolboy, making dumb remarks like that.”
“Please. I have more class than that. I just like to rattle your cage a little. See you get all flustered. So…?”
“So what?”
“So, when do we get to meet him?”
“Well, let me run it by him first. You guys could come over here, I guess, maybe have a pizza night or something.”
* * * *
After Scott left, Joe took Barney for a walk in the park at the end of the street. His mind was full of what he and Scott had talked about. He wondered why the Federal Agents were taking so long to finish their investigation. As far as he was concerned, it was cut and dried. Murdoch had been running his own protection racket for years until Joe had latched on to what he was doing, had confronted him in the middle of a transaction and been shot for his trouble.
Why the Feds hadn’t been satisfied with the testimonies given as to their innocence beat the heck out of him. Did they in fact have their suspicions about one or two of the guys? Like he did about Sam Baker? Was he going overboard suspecting Sam of being in cahoots with Murdoch? The memory of that slide-away look bugged him still, but he might be setting too much store by it and his queasy gut.
As he mulled things over, he watched Barney playing with a much smaller dog, a terrier of some kind…
“Hello, Detective.” A woman’s voice called out to him. Oh, the nice old lady who lives with her son and daughter-in-law across the street. What the heck’s her name again? Mrs. Chalmers or Chaplin…something like that.
“Hi, Mrs. Ch…Church.” That’s it.
“How are you feeling, Detective?”
“Much better, thanks.”
She beamed at him. “Thank goodness, we need you back on the street protecting us from thugs.”
“Well, I don’t work a beat anymore, Mrs.—”
“Just last week, I saw a young man, a paramedic no less, being attacked in the supermarket parking lot. If I hadn’t shouted, goodness knows what would have happened. As it was, he must have a nasty bruise on his face. Such a nice-looking boy, too. Did I say he was a paramedic? And d’you know, Detective Brady, I think he was the one who found you on the beach. I’d seen his photograph in the paper but I didn’t get it right way, not until I got home and looked at the paper again. I’m sure it was him.”
Joe stared at her in amazement. Riley was attacked? That’s why he had that bruise on his face. Why the hell didn’t he tell me the truth? Why make up that cock-and-bull story about a homeless person punching him? “Are you sure it was him, Mrs. Church?”
She gave him a sly look. “He didn’t tell you? I’ve seen him coming by your house with the dogs from time to time.”
Nosy old bat… “Uh, yeah, he was looking after Barney till I was able to get around better.” Just wait till he comes over tonight. “But I’ll be sure to ask him about it.”
“And between you and me and the gatepost, I think he knew his assailant.”
What? “What makes you say that?”
“Well, I was putting my groceries in the truck and I heard them talking and arguing, then I saw the one man push…Riley, is it? against his car. That’s when I shouted and his assailant ran off. And Riley wouldn’t let me call for security.”
Joe laughed ruefully. “You should be a detective, Mrs. Church.”
“Well, I do read a lot of Agatha Christie’s stories. I love Miss Marple.”
“Yes, she’s very good. Well, thank you for telling me about this.”
Mrs. Church bent to pick up her dog. “Come along, Daisy, I think I’ve talked the detective’s ear off enough for one day.”
“Not at all.”
“Toodle-oo, Detective Brady.”
“Too…I mean, bye, Mrs. Church.”
Well, I’ll be damned. The old lady tottered off across the grass. Not much goes past that one. So, Riley, what will you have to say for yourself tonight?
* * * *
Riley heaved a sigh of relief as Brett pulled their vehicle into the hospital parking lot.
“That was brutal,” Brett said, echoing Riley’s exact thought.
“Wonder why Saturdays are always hell days?”
“Too many people in a hurry, for one thing. That crash on the Canyon road wouldn’t have happened if that jerk with the SUV hadn’t tried to overtake on a curve.”
That had been only one of four emergency calls they’d answered. Two auto crashes, a kid who’d swallowed a detergent pod and a homeless woman run over by a truck. Fortunately, with quick medical action and getting them to the E.R. in record time, they didn’t lose anyone. Dealing with the usual hysteria these incidents almost always invoked was the hardest part for Riley. It didn’t seem to affect Brett in the same way. He remained stoic throughout, even when the little girl’s mother was slapping him and telling him he wasn’t doing enough to save her child.
“Bet she’ll file a complaint ’cause I told her to keep those things out of her kid’s reach. Shouldn’t that be just plain common sense?”
Riley agreed, but his mind was on the texts he’d received from Miles. Three in one day. Almost a record, considering he hadn’t answered them, apart from the very first one the day after Miles had assaulted him. That text had been begging forgiveness and Riley had replied, You’re forgiven. Now forget it and move on. There had been a slew of texts after that. For the life of him he couldn’t understand why Miles was being so persistent. After the incident in the parking lot he’d thought he’d never hear from him again.
Now he wants to apologize in person? Not going to happen.
“What’s going on with you?” Brett asked as they walked toward the E.R. “You’ve gone awful quiet.”
Riley sighed. “Miles keeps texting me wanting to come down. I haven’t answered any of them, thinking he’d take the hint and give up.”
“Sounds stalkerish to me. Have you mentioned it to Joe?”
“God, no. He doesn’t know about Miles.”
“Really?” Brett chuckled. “He’s never asked you about your lurid past?”
“My past is anything but lurid,” Riley said, echoing Brett’s chuckle. “We’ve talked about exes and stuff, but never got around to naming any of them. Joe said he never had a steady boyfriend after graduating from the Police Academy, and before Miles, I only had a couple of short-lived affairs. Not what I’d call heart-stopping news.”
“Yeah, but this Miles is a piec
e of work. After what he pulled in the parking lot, you should have told Joe what he did, instead of inventing a story about a homeless guy punching you in the face.”
“Maybe. I just didn’t want him getting all mad and protective.”
“You should be glad you have a guy who would feel all protective of you. You seeing him tonight?”
“We’re going to Cedars for dinner.” Riley grinned. “First time he’s wanted to go out. Kind of like a date, he says. He’s been in a better mood since they unstrapped his arm and let him use a sling.”
“That’s great. Won’t be long before you can…you know…” Brett waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Not that you’ll know about it.”
“Killjoy.”
“Truth.”
* * * *
Joe watched from the living room window as Riley parked his car then walked up the driveway to the house. He looked so nice, dressed to go out in a pair of dark gray pants and a blue shirt Joe knew would enhance his boyfriend’s eyes to great effect.
He hadn’t quite worked out how he was going to approach the subject of Riley’s lying about how he got the bruised face. He could just come straight out and tell him he knew he had lied but he might get all defensive and it could put a damper on the evening. The one he’d been looking forward to until nosy Mrs. Church kinda shot it down. But he couldn’t be mad at her. If she hadn’t intervened, Riley might have suffered more than a bruised face…although he figured Riley could take care of himself. From the sounds of it, the other guy had taken him by surprise.
The merry ding-dong of the doorbell followed by the sound of a key being inserted in the lock preceded Riley’s cheery voice. “Hi, Joe, you ready to go?”
Despite himself, Joe chuckled. “You a poet now?” He smiled as he watched Barney give Riley his usual boisterous welcome. He returned Riley’s kiss, but it must have been slightly off as Riley gave him a wary look.
“Something wrong?”
Joe sighed. He couldn’t just say no, because that would be avoiding the subject and he wanted to know why Riley had lied to him.
“The bruise on your face…”
Riley, perhaps instinctively, touched it with his fingers. “What about it?”
“It’s almost gone.”
“Yeah, thank goodness. I was getting tired of having to say, ‘you should see the other guy’. That corny old line.”
“And how is the other guy?”
“What?”
“The guy that assaulted you in the supermarket parking lot last week. Does he have a bruise, too?”
Riley stared at him, his mouth slightly open. “Joe, I…”
“Why did you feel you couldn’t tell me about what happened? Why make up a story about a homeless person?”
Riley’s eyes glistened. “I’m sorry I did that. Brett said I should’ve told you, but you were going through so much at the time.” Riley’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Joe, really sorry. It was dumb of me, but I had never even mentioned Miles to you, and at that moment it just didn’t seem like the right time.”
“Miles?”
“My ex. We split, or rather he left me, over a year ago. Out of the blue he called me, wanting to get together for dinner, to become friends again, and…well, I just didn’t want to go that route. I’d just met you and I didn’t want him getting in the way of our…well, our new friendship, for want of a better word. So I tried to head him off, but he kept calling me, texting me, bugging the shit out of me. The last text saying he was coming down to see me anyway, I ignored. When I came out of the supermarket he was standing by my car.”
Joe frowned. “So this Miles is more or less stalking you?”
“That’s what Brett said, but Miles doesn’t see it that way. For some reason he thinks I owe him for old times’ sake or something.”
“Seems to me you don’t owe him anything, Riley.” He took Riley’s arm and led him over to the couch. “Sit, while you tell me the rest. What happened to make him hit you?”
“He didn’t actually hit me…” Riley sighed and sat next to Joe. “It was the night I had planned on making dinner for us. When I saw him standing there, I was irritated more than anything else. I was in a hurry to see you, and I had to get home, walk Champ, shower and start preparing our meal. And there he was all up in my face and when I told him I couldn’t spend time with him, he got aggressive, pushed me up against the car door so hard my face hit the glass. I was more shocked than anything else, then this little old lady yelled at him saying she was going to call the cops and Miles took off across the parking lot, faster than a speeding bullet.” Riley chuckled. “I didn’t know he could run that fast. The lady was so nice.”
“Mrs. Church.”
Riley gasped. “You know her?”
“She lives across the street. I ran into her in the park today and she spilled the beans. Not only that, but she knows who you are and that you’ve been coming up here almost every day.”
“Wow.”
“Yep. Neighborhood watch has nothing on her.”
Riley scooted a little closer and stroked Joe’s thigh. “Are you mad at me?”
“Not mad, maybe a little hurt that you thought you couldn’t tell me about this asshole Miles.”
“We hadn’t ever talked about exes, and like I said, you were dealing with enough stuff without my whining about some pushy ex-boyfriend.”
“Why did he leave you? Is he mentally impaired?”
Riley laughed. “No. He found somebody new.”
“And where is this somebody new now?”
“In jail.”
Joe raised both eyebrows. “For real or is this Miles shitting you?”
“It sounds real. He was caught commingling real estate funds where he and Miles worked. He got three years.”
“So, the first thing your ex does is try to reconnect with you. A loyal guy. What’s the latest from him?”
“He texted me and begged my forgiveness. I texted him back and said he was forgiven and to move on.”
“And?”
“And he’s been texting me ever since, some blaming himself, some blaming me—”
“Okay, that’s enough. Sounds like asshole Miles needs to be taught a lesson.”
Riley looked startled. “What d’you mean?”
“Well, it seems to me like he’s trying to wiggle his way into what I claim to be mine.” Joe smiled and winked at Riley. “I might just take umbrage at the colossal nerve of the guy who thinks he can muscle in on my territory.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, not kidding. Now, if I had the use of both arms, I would drive up to Los Angeles and beat the shit outta him…twice.”
“Twice?” Riley squeaked.
“Mmhm. One for, as I said, trying to take you away from me, and two for laying a hand on you and bruising your beautiful face.”
“Oh, Joe…” Riley leaned in to kiss Joe’s cheek.
“Okay, I am joshing, even though I think that’s exactly what he deserves. However, it wouldn’t look too cool for a police detective to smash his boyfriend’s ex-boyfriend. How about I just call him and tell him to fuck off?”
“Wait…” Riley stared at him, smiling. “So, we’re really boyfriends?”
“If you’d like to be, though I think I’m too old to be a boyfriend.”
“Thirty-one is not too old, and I’d like to be your boyfriend.”
Joe grinned at him. “Seal it with a kiss?”
“You bet.” He snuggled as close as he could without pressing too hard on Joe’s bad arm and licked Joe’s lower lip with the tip of his tongue before slipping it inside Joe’s eager mouth. When they took a breather, he murmured, “Shall we cancel dinner out?”
“There’s some eggs and things in the fridge,” Joe said.
Riley smiled. “Eggs and things for dinner. Who could ask for anything more?”
Chapter Twelve
Romero called Joe first thing the next morning. “Joe, the
re will be a couple of Federal Agents knocking on your door in about a half-hour. Are you out of bed?”
“Yeah, but the home nurse will be here around that time. She only comes twice a week now, but today’s her day.”
“Try and head her off, tell her to come later if she can. The Feds won’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Copy that. I’ll give her a call now. Anything I should be worried about?”
Romero chuckled dryly. “Maybe if there’s something you should be worried about.”
“Huh. Now you wanna be a comedian.”
“I thought that was pretty funny. Okay, so their names are Agents Dobson and Carrera. They’re the ones who’ve been here at the precinct for the past few days off and on. Oh, and by the way, Murdoch’s being shipped to the Santa Ana prison today. He’ll be there until he gets a trial date.”
“He’ll cop a plea, just wait.”
“He’ll try but he doesn’t have much to bargain with. He won’t be able to pin anything on his ex-colleagues without proof…but we just have to wait for the FBI report.”
“Okay, I’ll call the home nurse and re-schedule.”
“Talk at you later. Let me know how the meeting goes.”
“Okay, Barney, take it easy,” he said as he opened the door.
“Detective Brady?” one of the guys asked and they both held up their IDs.
“That’s me. Agents Dobson and Carrera, I presume? Come on in.”
“Is your dog friendly?” the one named Dobson asked.
“Too friendly. The wagging of a tail is what indicates that.”
Carrera chuckled and held out his hand to Barney. “Good doggie.” He smiled at Joe and, after patting Barney a few times, offered his hand. “Miguel Carrera.”
“Pleased to meet you…and you, Agent Dobson,” he added. “Really, Barney won’t bite.”
“Okay.” Dobson was all business. “Is there somewhere we can sit?”
“Sure, the kitchen table okay? Like some coffee, freshly brewed?”
“I’ll take a cup,” Carrera said while Dobson shook his head and sat at the table.
Fun guy… Joe grinned when Barney went over to Dobson and put his chin on the Agent’s knee. “He likes you.”