Nothing In Common, Except ...

by Edward Kendrick

  “Yeah. I guess it’s for the best. We have nothing in common, when it comes right down to it. Okay. I’m out of here. Call when you have another job for me.”

  “Don’t forget your car,” Caleb said.

  “Shit. I did. Thanks.” Brax was at it a moment later. On the drive home, he wondered if he’d ever see Kyle again. Only if he can prove I’m the thief he’s after, I guess—and probably not even then. He’ll turn the evidence over to the authorities and move on to his next case. While that idea did nothing to alleviate the fact that he’d miss Kyle—more than he would have thought possible even two days ago—he knew it was the truth.

  Chapter 10

  Kyle booked his flight home as soon as he got up Monday morning. As he waited for the website to come up on his phone, he debated not leaving until that evening, so that he could see Brax one more time.

  But why? All it would do is reinforce the fact that I am leaving. Make a clean break—now.

  Once he had his flight confirmed for just after noon, he showered, got dressed, and packed. Then he went downstairs to get some breakfast in the hotel restaurant before checking out. He took his time eating, knowing he was stalling until it was late enough that Brax wouldn’t be in the apartment.

  It was going on nine-thirty when he parked the rental car in the lot next to Brax’s building. After making certain no one was watching, he teleported inside.

  He found the things he’d brought to the apartment neatly piled on the bed in the guestroom. “I guess you’re really glad to get me out of your hair, and fast,” he said under his breath as he gathered them up. “It was fun, while it lasted. Well, not fun, but…” For a second, he flashed on the last time they were at the lake. “If things had been different, but they aren’t. I’m certain you’re the thief who broke into those museums; although I’m not going to try to prove it was you. Not anymore. I owe you that much, at least.”

  He walked through the apartment, sighed deeply as memories assailed him, pushed them to the back of his mind, then left.

  * * * *

  Brax didn’t realize he was waiting for Kyle to show up at his office to, maybe, say goodbye, until he turned to see who had entered and was dismayed to find out it was only Judd.

  “You have a couple of phone calls,” Judd said, handing him the message slips. “Is Ms. Grant a new client you forgot to tell me about?”

  “Possibly,” Brax hedged. “I was going to call her to set up a meeting.” He looked at the one with Lynn’s name, noting that she wanted to see him as soon as possible. How the hell did she know to contact me here? That she does means she also knows my name. Not a question he could answer until he spoke with her, although he suspected it had been Doc Wilson’s doing. “Apparently she’s in a hurry. I’ll be back when I’m back.”

  “As always,” Judd replied dryly. “At least it’s a woman, so it shouldn’t take you half the day.”

  Brax chuckled, flipping him off, then left for the clinic.

  Since he drove, it took him a good ten minutes to get there. The first thing he did when he was inside was to check with Doc Wilson to ask how Lynn was doing.

  “Better than I would have expected,” Doc Wilson replied. “That girl’s got heart—and grit. She told me she’s not going to let what Russo did to her ruin her life. I hope it was all right for me to give her your work number. She was desperate to talk to you.”

  “No problem. I take it that it’s okay to visit her.”

  “Yep. You know where she is.”

  Brax did, walking into Lynn’s room to find her sitting up, a newspaper in her lap. She looked at him, smiling widely. “You came, Brax. Yeah, the doc told me your name when I forced him to. I wanted to talk with you but I didn’t know how to get in contact.”

  “Of course he did.” He grinned as he pulled the chair up beside her bed.

  “Where’s you buddy?”

  “Gone back where he came from,” Brax told her. “He was only here to help deal with Russo.”

  Her expression darkened for a moment at the mention of Russo’s name before she said, “You’ve got to be jerking my chain. I thought you two were like this.” She crossed her fingers.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but no.”

  “Well, damn. Wait a second. If he left…Is Russo…?”

  “Out of the picture,” Brax replied. “Permanently.”

  “Yes!” She pumped a fist, then grimaced. “Okay. I shouldn’t do that quite yet. Things are still healing.”

  He could see that. The bruises had almost faded, but there were still bandages on her arms, and he suspected on her torso as well. “Doc Wilson says you’re doing great.”

  “Yep. I can get out of here pretty soon. Maybe tomorrow. Then…” She sighed. “Then I have to figure out what next.”

  “Get out of the game, for starters.”

  “And do what? I barely graduated high school. As soon as I did, I left home to get away from…things.”

  “That doesn’t mean there aren’t legit jobs you can do.”

  “Such as? Waitress? Maid in some sleazy hotel? None of those would pay the rent on my place.”

  “Which you weren’t paying to begin with,” Brax pointed out. “I’d be willing to bet, if you looked into it, there are jobs out there you can handle.” That gave him an idea. One he wouldn’t mention until he talked with Judd. Which will take a bit of fast-talking, since he thinks she’s a potential client.

  “Maybe…” She looked as if she didn’t really believe him.

  “Lynn, try. Okay? Anything has to be better than what you were doing.”

  “Which I can’t now, anyway,” she muttered, touching one of larger bandages on her arm.

  “So take what happened as a wakeup call that it’s time to move on.”

  She looked at him, nodding. “I’ll try.”

  * * * *

  “That didn’t take long,” Judd said, coming into Brax’s office when he returned. “Is she going to hire us?”

  “Well, about that…” Brax settled at his desk. “You know how we’ve been talking about getting a receptionist, which we should have a long time ago but never got around to doing?”

  “Because it’s not in the budget,” Judd pointed out.

  “Maybe not when we first opened, but we’re doing well, now. If we had one, we wouldn’t have to answer phones and take messages, or type up stuff, or…”

  “Stuff?” Judd shook his head, resting one hip on the corner of Brax’s desk. “Where exactly are you going with this?”

  “Ms. Grant, the woman I went to see, needs our help. Not as a client, though. That problem was solved. The thing is, she was attacked by someone. It had to do with her last job. The guy’s no longer in the picture, but she can’t go back to what she was doing before it happened.”

  “Explain, please.”

  Brax did, obviously leaving out the details about what had happened to Russo—and what he was. He finished by saying, “She could use our help.”

  “I’m not sure,” Judd replied. “I mean, given what she did to earn a living. Does she even know how to use a computer, to start with? What about her people skills? Okay, forget about that part.”

  Brax chuckled. “You think? I’m not saying she’d be better than a trained receptionist, but I have the feeling she’s got it in her to learn fast. And the desire to start a new, better life for herself.”

  “Let me think about it,” Judd replied. “We’d have to get her a desk, and her own computer and phone. There’s not all that much room in what we laughingly call the waiting room.”

  “We can figure it out. She’s very pretty, which would be an asset. Right?”

  “I suppose.” Judd pushed off the desk. “How long before she can start working?”

  Brax smiled to himself, knowing from that question that Judd was going to agree, even if he took his time to say so. “By the end of the week, if not sooner.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you know my decision in the morning. For now, we have pl
enty to do, starting with you installing the security system for Mr. Werner.”

  “Yeah. He’d probably appreciate it, since he’s already paid half down.”

  * * * *

  When Brax returned to the office, mid-afternoon, the first thing out of Judd’s mouth was, “Let her know she’s hired, if she wants the job. If I have to answer one more phone call…”

  Brax laughed. Then, when they’d closed for the day, he returned to the clinic.

  “Back already?” Lynn said when he came into her room.

  “Yep,” he replied. “I need to know, how are your computer skills?”

  She looked at him in bewilderment. “Umm, okay, I guess. I know how to deal with emails, and use Word, if that counts.”

  “What about answering phone calls?”

  “If you mean for a business, you pick up the receiver, say something like, ‘Blah blah and sons. How may I help you?’ and then take it from there.” Her expression lit up. “Are you going to help me find an office job?”

  “I already have, if you want it.”

  “Lead me to it,” she replied gleefully. “Okay, maybe I should ask where, first?”

  “I don’t think I told you, though I suspect you know, since you left me a message. I’m a partner in a private investigation agency.”

  She grinned. “I know you’re first name is Brax. Are you Markham or O’Hara?”

  “O’Hara. Anyway, we need a receptionist. We have for a while now, but never got around to hiring one. I told Judd, he’s the Markham half, about you and that you needed a job. He was a bit iffy at first—”

  “Because of what I do. Well, used to do.”

  “Yeah. I convinced him you’re out of the business now, so he’s willing to give you a try.”

  “Oh my God. I think I love you.” She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re for real? This is for real?”

  “It is. I won’t let you start until Doc Wilson gives you clearance to leave here.”

  “Tomorrow. He said tomorrow.” She bounced excitedly, then sobered suddenly. “What if I can’t stay at my place now? I mean, it’s not really mine, but still.”

  “Do you have any money saved, so you can get a new one?”

  “Some.”

  “Then check the paper.” He pointed to the one on the nightstand. “See what’s available and make some calls.”

  “I will. Damn, Brax. Just, damn.”

  He laughed, giving her a hug before getting up. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  “You don’t…Oh, yeah, you have my number. I left it when I called your office.”

  “Yep. If everything works out, you can start on Wednesday.”

  “I’ll be there with bells on.”

  “I think a nice skirt and blouse would work better.”

  He winked and she grinned, saying, “That too. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied. “I’ll be in touch in the morning.”

  * * * *

  Brax went straight home after talking with Lynn. He was halfway to the kitchen when he felt like something was wrong. It took him a minute to figure out what. The place is empty. There’s no one here but me. No one to talk to. To make a sandwich for, or breakfast in the morning. Damn. How did I get so used to his being here so fast? Why do I miss his company now that he’s gone? He was just another man. Hell, we didn’t even do anything, really, other than a quickie out by the lake. I’ve had longer sex with one-night stands than I did with him. I’ve even made breakfast for a couple of them.

  He continued into the kitchen, bemused about why Kyle’s not being around was bothering him so much. Sure, we became friends of a sort. Was I hoping for more? Me? The guy who’s not into long term relationships?

  He told himself again that it wouldn’t have worked, even if Kyle…if they…had been willing to try. We’re too different in too many ways. Yin and yang, day and night.

  None of those thoughts helped the feeling of loss he was experiencing. Deciding there was only one cure, he hastily threw together a sandwich, eating it while he changed from his work clothes into sweatpants and a T-shirt. Tossing what he needed into his bag, he headed for the boxing gym he frequented on occasion.

  “Hey, Brax, it’s been a while,” Tony, the gym’s owner, said when Brax stopped at the front desk.

  “I know. I’ve been busy. Any objections if I just do my thing?”

  Tony laughed. “When have I ever objected? Have at it.”

  Brax did. After warming up, he worked the speed bags before moving on to a heavy bag. By the time he was finished he was dripping with sweat and exhausted enough he figured he’d collapse into bed the second he got home. He took time to shower before leaving the gym, and as he’d hoped, fell into bed and was asleep twenty minutes after returning to the apartment.

  * * * *

  Kyle was back on the job Tuesday morning. He checked in with Alex, the coordinator for the art crimes group, to see what new cases had cropped up while he’d been gone. As he’d told Brax, each member of the team was autonomous, although there was a central clearing house that tracked what art had been stolen from where, and listed possible suspects if there were any.

  “No luck with the Civil War Museum theft?” Alex asked.

  “No. All my leads came to dead ends,” Kyle replied without blinking an eye—the truth, as far as it went. He had no doubt that Brax was the thief, but didn’t intend to pursue it. Not after everything they’d been through together.

  He wondered, as he looked through the file Alex handed him, how long it would take before the mere thought of Brax stopped making him ache with longing to see him again. Hopefully, soon. And God help me if I get another case where I think he might be the culprit. Not that I’d have to take it. But if someone did, and was able to prove he was responsible. That idea didn’t sit at all well with him. Not, he knew, that he could do anything about it.

  After telling Alex he’d take the case, Kyle went home to begin his investigation. It ended up taking him out of the country for a month, during which, his memories of his time with Brax became just that—memories. Ones that still left a dull ache in his heart, but he learned to live with that.

  Chapter 11

  Brax’s life returned to normal over the next few weeks. He was somewhat amused by an article in the paper he read, two days after they’d dealt with Russo. It said that Elio Russo, the owner of Connoisseurs—’a bordello just outside the city limits’—had apparently made a run for it when he’d learned that federal agents were planning to investigate him for various crimes. Connoisseurs had been closed until further notice. “We done good,” he said when he finished reading. “I wonder how long the Feds will hunt for him before giving up.”

  Lynn turned out to be a godsend once she got the hang of things. For whatever reason, business at the agency was booming, to the point that Brax had to let Caleb know he didn’t have the time or the energy to ‘acquire’ a piece of art one of Caleb’s clients was interested in.

  At first, Caleb had been less than thrilled when Brax told him, saying, “You’re the only man I know who can do this. What am I going to tell my client? That he’s shit out of luck and to deal?”

  “Maybe you should point out to him that he can’t have everything he wants, just because he’s got money,” Brax had replied caustically.

  “And lose a good customer?”

  Brax had shrugged, saying, “I’m sure you’ve got others. In fact, I know you do.”

  Caleb hadn’t debated that, only saying, “Let me know when things slow down enough that you’ll be available again.” Then, he’d leaned back in his chair, studying Brax. “Or will you be? Is this your subtle way of telling me you want out?”

  “I don’t know,” Brax had replied honestly. “I mean, I like the thrill when I get my hands on a piece of art without being caught. The whole adrenaline rush. But recently, okay, in the last couple of weeks, I’ve been thinking about the people I’ve stolen from and how much t
hey probably miss whatever I’ve taken from them.” He smiled wryly. “Am I getting a conscience after all these years?”

  Caleb smiled. “It’s happened to worse men than us.”

  “You?”

  “Perhaps. I’m getting old. Okay, old up here.” Caleb tapped his temple. “Maybe we’re losing our edge. If we weren’t, Kyle would never have tracked us down. He’s the closest anyone has come to doing that.”

  “Because he’s good at what he does. If it hadn’t been for the whole Russo thing, who knows, Kyle might have hung in there and proven I took the revolver from the museum, for one of your customers.”

  “Then we’d be long gone and setting up as new people, way the hell away from here. Not something I want to do until—”

  “People realize you’re not aging. Same here. I’m not looking forward to that. I like it here. I like what I do with Judd. We’re making a difference in people’s lives. Damn.” Brax chuckled. “That makes us sound like social workers.”

  Caleb nodded. “Not to be trite, but that’s the good part of you that counterbalances what you do for me.” He looked seriously at Brax. “If you want out, just say the word. It might be what I need for me to end my own profligate ways. It has taken its toll on both of us—especially on you.”

  “Don’t go there,” Brax replied tightly. He knew what Caleb was saying. Kyle’s walking away still hurt, even though Brax was certain he knew why he had. “Let me think about it. All right?”

  “Of course.”

  Over the next week, Brax gave it serious consideration. Then he got back to Caleb with his reply, telling him that he wanted to do one more job before calling it quits. When he told Caleb what it was, Caleb had smiled knowingly and given him the information he needed.

  * * * *

  Kyle successfully closed the case he’d taken, turning over the information he’d gathered to the proper authorities. The news that a major art thief had been arrested and was facing trial, hit the papers two days after he returned home.

  It had been a long, arduous job, so he decided to take a break to relax and unwind. Thus he didn’t answer his phone, early Tuesday morning, when he saw Alex’s code name come up on the Caller ID. Alex was persistent however, to the point that Kyle figured he’d better answer before the man showed up in person.