Bait & Hook

by Eleanor Dax

  With Darren's presence heavy at his back, Roy didn't want to give his thanks too soon. He held his tongue.

  "I want to give you another district."

  Immediately Roy wondered where it might be and how he might work a second beat into his already loaded evenings. "Lieutenant-"

  Chen spoke right over him. "A couple of shooting galleries have opened up over on the West End. Patrol aired the place twice this month but within days the places are crawling again."

  Junkies.

  "Sir, with all due respect, there's plenty of action keeping me busy right where I am. I'm not sure a second assignment on top of all that-"

  "Parker, you're not listening. I'm reassigning you to the West End. Close shop on Seaview, you're moving house. I want you there tonight, understand? I want to know what's so damn hot about the area, and I want to know it as soon as possible."

  Roy blinked, at a loss, and Darren chose that moment to finally sit. "Plenty of punks out there looking to move in on empty territory. Lot of abandoned buildings there, old factories-it's prime real estate." He glanced over, easy as could be, and gave Roy a thin-lipped smile. "Things have been quiet up at Fourth and C. I've worked that beat for years now, I've got a handle on it."

  "You sure do," muttered Roy.

  "This isn't a problem, Parker, is it?" Chen eyed him from across the desk and Roy could see the man was ready to move on. He wasn't the type to hold anyone's hand and already irritation twitched at one eye.

  Absently adjusting his tie, Roy said, "It's not a problem, Lieutenant-"

  "Great, glad to hear it."

  And they were dismissed.

  Roy left the office first with Darren close at his heels. He headed straight for the kitchen and finally poured that coffee, scalding his tongue with the first sip. Darren sidled up beside him and snatched a clean mug from the dry rack.

  "So what exactly did you tell him?" Roy asked, staring into the pen. Gomez still hadn't shown up. She'd left before him, a fire under her ass to get here. So where the hell was she?

  Darren paused. "Tell? What, to Chen?"

  Roy did not reply.

  "Something about Seaview you like, Parker? Oh, wait. Fourth is more your speed, isn't it? That's right." Darren's blue eyes were crisp. "I wondered after they put you in the corner with Maria. She's a cute little thing, playing cop, but you hardly even look at her."

  "You might want to watch the sexist bullshit while you're on the clock, Lee. I don't think the department can handle another tolerance workshop. I know I can't."

  "Have to say I'm a little surprised to hear that, Parker. I thought guys like you ate that crap up."

  Roy knew he should walk away, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Not just yet. Instead, he curled his lip back just so and said, "Guys like me, huh?"

  "That's right." Darren's tone was even and his blue eyes hard. "Why'd you transfer down here again? Something to do with your daddy, wasn't that it? He had some trouble up north. He was a cop, too, right?"

  Roy couldn't say he was shocked, exactly, but he sure wasn't prepared. Ever since Casey Brown came into the picture he'd played fast and loose, and now it looked like it might really cost him. Still, he leaned up close and said, "Yeah, he was a cop. And I had nothing to do with any of that, which I think you know."

  "I'm sure that's debatable."

  Roy sneered. "Whatever. Stay the fuck out of my way, Darren." He pushed past.

  "Big words, pup."

  Roy turned, about to shoot his mouth off again. I know just what you are, he wanted to say, and was saved by a shout from the pen.

  "Parker!"

  It was Gomez, huffing her way over to him. She took in Darren quick but didn't give him much attention beyond that of a curt greeting.

  "Have you got a minute?" she asked Roy.

  Throwing Darren one last look, Roy went. Gomez led them right past their desks, out of the pen, and into an elevator. They went down, and with growing incredulity, Roy waited for her to speak. When Gomez did catch his eye though, she merely winked.

  "When did you get here?" he finally asked. The elevator pinged overhead and opened its doors at the first floor. They stepped out.

  "Oh, eight, maybe eight-fifteen. I've been here ages, what took you? You said you were right behind."

  Roy decided not to answer that. "I didn't see you at your desk. Where are we going?"

  "I need an egg sandwich. I haven't eaten all morning. Just that latte-ugh." She put a hand over her stomach.

  Roy squinted in the sunlight, high and too bright this early in the morning. He was getting used to fog all the time. The precinct dominated the south side of the downtown area, and a number of meal trucks and kiosks littered the grounds. Roy had heard word of a donut truck but it had yet to make an appearance. "I could have given you something," he said, but even as the words left his mouth he wondered what the hell he had to give. Cold pizza?

  She gave him a dry look. "Yeah, no." They stepped up to one of the meal trucks and Gomez ordered a number four, a chocolate milk, a granola bar, and a banana. Roy raised a brow but neglected to say anything. He picked up a bottled water to wash the coffee taste away and when her sandwich was ready they found an empty table.

  "So," Roy said.

  "So." Gomez bit into her sandwich and said, "Mmm." Roy let her chew.

  "You and Brown," she said at last. "What's your deal?"

  Roy had expected this. "No deal. He's nobody."

  Gomez squinted at him.

  "Well." Roy looked down at his hands.

  Calling Casey a nobody was harsh. Wasn't true, neither. He was a somebody, that was for sure, but Roy couldn't just say it. Thing was, he didn't take guys home very often, especially not trade and most especially not anyone even remotely related to the job. So to bring Casey Brown into his private sphere and to do… that…

  Well, he was something all right, Roy just didn't know what.

  "I let him stay last night," he admitted, and Gomez's eyebrows went up. "It's not like that," he added, even though it most definitely was.

  "Not like what?"

  With a scowl, Roy said, "You know what."

  She blinked at him over her sandwich. Grease dripped down to the paper and she said slowly, "No, I don't."

  "Look, can we just get to the point? I don't know who is worse, you or Darren or…" Or Casey, he didn't say.

  Gomez pressed her lips together and gave him a narrow look that said she was not impressed. "Whatever. I think I might know who our mystery man is."

  "Our what?"

  "Mystery man. The shitbag working with Darren, the one with the speed." She leaned in, half a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. "His name's Ford. He works down at the evidence locker. Think you could show your boyfriend his picture and let me know?"

  Roy's hand found the knot of his tie and tugged at it. Boyfriend. Yeah, no. "He's a cop?"

  Gomez scoffed at his tone. "And you're surprised? You're the one chasing after Darren all this time." Her words were flippant, but still she glanced around. Darren was no where in sight. That didn't exactly sit well with Roy, and he wanted to get back upstairs. Wanted to call Casey first, though, and check on him.

  "Yeah," he said, noncommittally. "Well, okay, and what else?"

  Her brows climbed even farther. "What do you mean, 'What else?' If it is Ford, he's Darren's intercept. Catching the speed in transit before it gets on the books here. I gotta go." She crammed the rest of the sandwich into her mouth and gathered her things. "That's Ford, Thomas, working right here under our noses. You got it?"

  "Sure," said Roy, watching her go. "Yeah."

  She gave him the hand sign for call me and dived right back into the building.

  Roy sat for a few minutes alternating between his coffee and the water. The name was familiar to him, but he couldn't quite put a face to it. He'd run a search upstairs, in any case, but knew he'd have to be careful. Darren had already made a move.

  Fishing his cell from his jacket poc
ket, Roy dialed. It went to the machine and he said, "Casey? It's me, pick up." He waited a minute before a small clatter reached his ears, and then a familiar voice.

  "Yeah? Hi. Roy?"

  "It's me, yeah. How are you?"

  "Umm…" Casey deliberated for a moment. "I'm okay."

  "You sure?" He'd meant to make the call a quick one, but now that he was alone with Casey's voice in his ear, he wanted to take a moment for himself.

  Casey said, slightly suspicious, "I'm sure. Why?"

  Gaze on the bustling face of the precinct, Roy considered the question.

  Darren had used his influence with Chen to transfer Roy all the way across town, and while his lieutenant wanted him there that night, Casey needed him, too. Roy owed Casey his presence and his protection, but he owed the job as well. Things weren't okay at all, he realized, at least not for Roy. His head was spinning just thinking about it.

  "Well," he began, drawing the word out.

  If Darren was keeping an eye on him, and he most definitely was, it was more than possible he'd seen Roy with Casey. Mentally, he reviewed the encounter in the kitchen. Darren had alluded to things about Roy-his father, his past, his sexuality. His preference, orientation, whatever. Roy didn't take pains to hide what he was, but he wasn't stupid. Gay cops weren't exactly welcomed with open arms. Not here, not up north, not anywhere he could think of.

  "Roy?" Casey said from over the line. He sounded worried, and Roy decided to play things cool.

  "It's fine. No reason. You been resting?"

  A pause. Then, "Yes… Parker, what's the news? Are you sure everything is okay?"

  "Sure, I'm sure. I take it Darren hasn't called?"

  "Not yet."

  "Okay. Listen, nothing's changed, you hear? He calls, you get in touch with me right after. Right after. I need to kick around here a little bit, but I shouldn't be too late. When I get back, we have to talk."

  In a subdued tone, Casey agreed, "Okay," and offered nothing more.

  Hoping for a little more life in the response, Roy said, urging, "All right?"

  Casey sighed noisily into the receiver. "Okay," he said. "I said okay."

  "Okay then."

  They said their goodbyes and Roy just stared at the display of his phone long after it went dark. He wasn't sure he'd expected Casey to actually hang around, even after he said he would. The morning had been a strange one, the night before even stranger. Roy couldn't say what had come over him, but having Casey so near, sitting with him on the couch and just holding him, it had woken something inside.

  Roy couldn't remember a time when the scent of someone's skin turned him on as much as Casey's did. And Casey had been easy going for once, and Roy liked just taking care of him. Touching him and rubbing him down. He'd wanted more, wanted to push himself deep inside, but the way Casey laid there blinking at him, flushed and hard, a little unsure, it gave him pause.

  So he'd tasted instead. Bit his thighs and kissed his belly and swallowed Casey deep. It'd been a long damn while since Roy had taken a cock into his mouth, but it wasn't exactly something a guy just forgot how to do. Casey had lain there and accepted the treatment well enough, grasping at Roy's hair and shoulders and making tight little sounds like he didn't want anyone to hear. Now, in the light of day, all made Roy stop and think. He didn't know what to make of it, but he was thinking all the same.

  There was something about Casey that, from the beginning, had attracted him, and Roy couldn't lie to himself about it any longer. He wanted Casey. Wanted to sleep with him again, sure, but more than that. Wanted to prove himself, wanted Casey to know he wasn't just another jerk, because he wasn't, damn it. For all his faults Roy liked to think he was basically a good guy.

  He wanted Casey to take the job with his brother and have that connection. He wanted to talk to Casey about other things, everyday things, over a pitcher. He wanted to see Casey in the daylight.

  Rising from the table, Roy tossed the rest of his coffee and went back inside. Riding the elevator he wondered what Casey might want, and came up with a big old blank. He stepped out onto his department floor and thought, glumly, that maybe he wanted to get as far away from any and all cops as possible, including Roy. And what then? Well, Roy would respect it. Wouldn't be happy about it, but he was used to not getting his way.

  He scrubbed a hand through his short hair and found the knot of his tie once again. Casey had kissed him that morning, not the other way around. Done up his tie and given him a pat and then just stared with a hot look in his eye. It hadn't been just any kiss. Hadn't been any reason for it, either, other than just wanting. That had to count for something, didn't it?

  Darren was busy at his desk. It looked like he was shutting things down, and Roy watched from the corner of his eye. Gomez was gone again. Just as well.

  Darren's chair rolled back and he snatched his keys. He poked his head into the lieutenant's office for a minute and gave the doorjamb a solid pat. He turned, found Roy staring, and gave him a cool nod. He left.

  Roy could just see the elevator from his desk. He watched Darren wait around until it dinged and the doors opened, then he stepped inside. Roy sat still like a stone, just watching the numbers light up.

  4, 3, 2, 1, G.

  The motor pool. A little bell went off in Roy's head, he wasn't sure why. So Darren was taking a vehicle--they all did, sometimes. He gave the system a few moments to update itself and clicked through to see which one.

  Darren had taken a dark blue pickup with extended cab. Going by the time stamp, Roy guessed he had to be on the road by now. Checking his phone, he saw there was still no word from Casey. His palms began to itch and, quickly, he ran a department search for Thomas Ford. Found him and printed the photo out at his desk. He snatched it up from the tray and folded it twice. Maybe he'd pop down to the evidence locker, just for a minute.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Roy left Casey wasn't really sure what to do. He was dressed and awake, so going back to bed didn't make a lot of sense. There was always TV.

  He sat uncomfortably on the couch and flipped grimly through all the channels. He thought about Roy's arm around him the night before, just resting there. Court TV came up and he depressed himself a little while with someone else's troubles. More kids getting kidnapped. He flipped through once more and shut it off.

  For a while he just dug through his things, taking account of everything, trying to distract himself, and happened upon the other card Roy had given him. His brother's.

  He'd told Roy he would stay at the apartment, and he would. He fully intended to stay, but there was nothing wrong with just calling the man. Casey dialed carefully, staring at the address and trying to think if he'd ever eaten there before. It rang and rang and a man answered breathlessly, "Hello, Weathervane."

  For a second Casey couldn't think what to say. His heart thumped quick in his chest and he didn't even know why.

  "Hi," he said at last. "Is this Tim Parker? My name is Casey Brown. Roy said I should call?"

  He waited.

  At last, the voice came back. "Casey," it said. "Right, yes. Roy said you have some experience?"

  "Yes."

  "Seafood?"

  "A little, yes."

  Another pause. "Okay, you got a resume I can look at?"

  Casey thought of the slightly crumpled folder marked 'work' that he kept in his trunk. By now it was stuffed in the very back somewhere; it hadn't seen a lot of action recently. He hesitated for half a moment. "Yes."

  "Good. Well, I'd like to meet you."

  "Oh, great," Casey said. "Sure, I mean-whenever."

  "Can you come by this afternoon?"

  Casey said, "Uh…" and found himself met with silence. He told Roy he'd stick around, but what was he supposed to say? Thinking quick, he decided he could square the details away later and said, "Sure."

  Tim gave him directions and they hung up. Casey stared at his phone for a minute, just chewing at his lip and thinking.

  R
oy wouldn't like it, but Roy didn't like a lot of things. Already, Casey was thinking up justifications: He had hours to kill before ten o'clock. Darren operated at night. Roy was at work. There was nothing on TV.

  Snatching his keys up, feeling determined and glad to have something to do, he left.

  The wind was cool and wet, but he kept the windows down anyway. Colma was down south by Pacifica and near the coast. There were graveyards everywhere and a constant, heavy fog. It might have been spooky but to Casey it was just quiet, and he liked that. He found Weathervane with no problem.

  It was small with a rough, coastal look, like an old shack at the beach. Sturdy, though, he thought, and clean. A small grocer was in business across the street with a couple shops set up on either side. A bell jangled overhead as he stepped into the restaurant.

  "Hello?"

  The place was empty except for a tall, dark-haired man standing over the counter. A cash tray sat before him, coin rolls and bills piled up beside it. The guy dropped everything and came around to meet him. He was really, really tall, and his beaten black boots clicked over the tile.

  "You must be Casey," he said. "I'm Tim."

  Casey took a moment to appreciate how much Tim resembled his brother. He was taller than Roy, his hair blacker, and a thick, twitching mustache characterized his face, but there was no mistaking the relation. "Hi," Casey said, feeling a lot calmer somehow. He held his hand out to shake and grinned and the guy just laughed.

  "Come on in."

  Tim showed him around and gave him the spiel, and Casey just said "Yes," and "I can do that," to almost everything, even the stuff he wasn't one hundred percent about. They ended up back out front, standing by the Continental.

  "Nice car," Tim said.

  "Tha-"

  "So Roy tells me you did some time just recently." Tim's mustache was no longer twitching. In fact it appeared very sober.

  "Oh. Yes," said Casey, adjusting to the new line of conversation. He kept his expression blank and just waited for the rest of it.

  "He didn't say what for." Tim squinted at him and said nothing.

  It always came to this, and Casey tried to be as honest as possible without actually saying anything. "I never stole anything, I never hurt anyone. I'm just happy for the work. Really. Anything you can give me, I'll take it."