Dancing Around The Cop

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Dancing Around The Cop Page 13

by Lisa Oliver


  years because of his failure to age. Apparently his police records

  showed him in his mid-thirties, but in actuality Zander was closer

  to sixty and yet he had the appearance of a sexy twenty five

  year old.

  Keeping his own counsel, content just to be out with his mate,

  Terry let himself be seated, and watched with a fondness that

  was growing by the day as Zander ordered his favorite foods.

  There was nothing wrong with his old wolf's memory that’s for

  sure but then as he and Zander both would live until they were

  around five hundred, that wasn’t surprising.

  He was halfway through his creamy fettucine with chicken and

  spinach, when Zander spoke.

  “Sweetie, I hate to wreck our peaceful lunch, but I have a bit of

  a problem and it could be a problem for you too.”

  Okay, well clearly calm was a transient state of being. Terry felt

  his good mood drop and his stomach threatened to expel the

  delicious pasta. Putting down his fork, he took a deep breath and

  then met his mate’s eyes hiding his fear. If his mate was going

  to dump him, or whatever other bad news he might have about

  their mating, then Terry would meet his fate head on.

  “It’s nothing like that, I swear. I could never give you up, or

  what we have together,” Zander said softly, his hand snaking

  out and covering Terry’s on the table between them. It was the

  first time Zander had ever touched him in a public place and

  Terry’s bouncy spirit just jumped back up again even as he

  cursed himself for forgetting their mind link. With being together

  so closely since they were blessed with that connection, it had

  barely been used.

  “What’s wrong? How can I help?”

  Zander smiled and Terry’s spirit bounced up further. Nothing

  could be wrong with the world when his mate had a smile on his

  face. But then Zander told him about what Sully had done, how

  he was effectively sabotaging Zander’s career and Terry’s wolf

  went into overdrive. How dare that jumped up piece of All-

  American handsomeness do something so cruel? Terry’s wolf,

  usually a placid and quiet creature, was all for hunting the man

  down and biting him, hard.

  “The guys at the IA want to talk to you. I’m a bit worried about

  how you’ll handle it,” Zander said, the pat on his hand turning

  into a full scale hold, which Terry was grateful for.

  “Won’t you be there?” Terry could lie through his eye teeth if he

  had to, but he’d cope better if Zander was with him.

  But Zander shook his head. “No. They asked me to bring you in

  this afternoon and they’re going to want to speak to you alone.

  It shouldn’t take long, but it’s just…” Zander trailed off.

  “What’s wrong?” Terry asked again.

  “The guy who will be interviewing you, he thinks like Sully.”

  Terry looked down at his tight clothes. Nothing too outlandish,

  he had to work after all.

  “So…” he said with a drawl. “It’s probably good I found a scarf

  then isn’t it. Think I’ve got time to put on some make up before

  I have to go before the execution squad?”

  Zander may be laughing, which gave Terry’s body a pleasant

  hum, but he was actually serious. If he was going to be hated

  for who he was, then he was going to go into that meeting with

  all guns blazing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Terry hated the police building on sight. The memory of being

  taken in through the back door in handcuffs hadn’t left him, and

  he didn’t think it would any time soon. It wasn’t much better

  walking through the front door, even with Zander by his side.

  The big man stayed close, which was one thing, but Terry wanted

  to disappear under his mate’s arm. He didn’t sense any hateful

  feelings although more than one curious look was thrown his

  way.

  Zander led the way past the admin desk, and then out back,

  down a long corridor, before opening the door to a large room

  filled with desks, about half of which were occupied. No one

  seemed to pay too much attention to his mate, but Terry could

  feel eyes boring into him from all sides and as they crossed the

  room he forced himself to walk tall. He was awesome and he just

  had to remember that.

  Stopping by a desk that was cluttered with files and what looked

  like random pieces of paper, Zander said, “take a seat, I’ll ring

  the idiots and see if they’re ready for you.”

  Zander plopped down in the seat behind the desk, and taking

  the seat beside it, Terry looked over his mate’s workspace, trying

  to glean more clues about his man. Like his home, Zander’s

  workspace was impersonal with nothing on it aside from his

  office tools, a computer shoved to the side, and a small picture

  of Zander and Sully which was probably taken when the two men

  graduated from the Academy. His mate looked sinfully delicious

  in a uniform.

  Terry could have suggested some plants, or a few knick knacks

  to make the space a bit more personable, but glancing around

  the room, he saw that everyone else had the same drab spaces.

  He gave a discrete shudder. He would never be able to work in

  somewhere so…professional.

  “Okay little one?” Zander whispered beside him and Terry

  nodded. Seeing his work space, and the environment that

  Zander spent so much time in all added to the puzzle that was

  his mate. Terry was, by far the most colorful person in the office

  and he felt underdressed. For him at least.

  “A little young to be a drug dealer. This a new informant, aye

  Samuels?” A rough voice sounded from the other side of the desk

  and Terry looked up to see an average looking man – brown hair,

  brown eyes, plain face and a brown suit. Definitely average.

  “Watch your tongue, McKenzie. Terry’s my boyfriend.” Zander

  didn’t look up from the papers he was working on as he

  answered, so only Terry could enjoy the look of shock, horror,

  and then as Zander slowly raised his head to look at the hapless

  man, the bland friendliness that came over McKenzie’s face.

  “I didn’t know you were gay,” McKenzie said, looking around as

  though he needed support.

  “Wasn’t any of your business,” Zander said dismissively.

  “But Sully, your dates, was that all lies?” Terry thought he should

  feel a bit sorry for McKenzie. Clearly this was a man who lived

  vicariously through office gossip and the gossip about Zander

  was about to head in a new direction.

  “A man can swing on both sides of the fence,” Terry said with a

  grin. “At the moment he’s swinging my way.”

  “Samuel’s has never even had a girlfriend. He has one-time

  dates and that’s it. The gossip mills run to a different girl every

  week. Girls. Not males.” McKenzie looked at Terry as if he held

  the answer to the biggest problem in the universe.

  Terry looked across at Zander who was still working on his

  papers. McKenzie didn’t appear to be someone important to his

  mate. Leani
ng forward in his chair, Terry beckoned the man

  forward and leaned into his ear.

  “Once you’ve had dick, you’ll never go back. You should give it

  a try sometime,” he whispered so only McKenzie could hear,

  although given his Alpha status, Zander probably could too. Did

  his mate’s lip twitch? Terry couldn’t be sure, the movement was

  so fast.

  “Really?” McKenzie looked stunned and horrified all in one go

  and that wasn’t an easy look to achieve.

  “Just try it,” Terry said, leaning back and running a hand over

  his slim torso. He knew he looked good. He refused to leave the

  house unless his did and his work depended on it. Apparently

  McKenzie thought so too although after giving him and Zander

  another long look, he scurried away.

  “You’re incorrigible, mate,” Zander said quietly, still looking

  busy.

  “And you like it,” Terry said just as quietly. He didn’t think

  anyone could hear them. There was like a dead zone of empty

  desks around Zander’s workspace although he saw McKenzie

  talking to another dark looking man by the door. Both men saw

  him watching them and disappeared out the door.

  Terry sat quietly, not wanting to disturb his mate while the man

  was working. He spent his time imagining what he would do with

  the plain beige walls, tiled floor and untidy desks. The place

  could benefit from some plants, color on the walls and some

  filing cabinets. He was deep into imagining what sort of art he

  would install, when Zander’s phone rang.

  The man tensed, flicking a worried look at Terry before he

  answered it. A couple of grunts later, and Zander put the phone

  down and stood up.

  “You’re on,” he said bluntly.

  Once again Terry followed his mate through the room, down

  another long corridor before the man stopped in front of an

  unremarkable office door. To his surprise, Zander looked around

  quickly and then pulled Terry into his arms. Shocked, it took

  Terry a moment to respond, but then his arms seemed to get a

  life of their own and he quickly hugged his mate back. Zander’s

  body was fast becoming a port in any storm for him, and he

  could never get enough of it.

  “Don’t let them get to you,” Zander whispered into his hair.

  “Don’t let anything they say upset you. Please, I couldn’t bear it

  if they hurt you in any way.”

  “None of this is your fault, my mate,” Terry said quietly,

  confident that Zander would hear him. “I know how fabulous I

  am, my Mother tells me so. I don’t need to let the opinions of

  people that don’t count ruin my day.”

  “You are. Fabulous I mean,” Zander whispered. “I can’t do

  without you.”

  “You won’t have to,” Terry promised, giving Zander one more

  squeeze before stepping away. Zander knocked on the door, his

  face terse and hard once more. Someone yelled out “enter” from

  within the office and Zander opened the door, ushering Terry

  inside.

  Another brown/beige office, Terry thought before taking stock of

  the two people waiting for him.

  “My boyfriend, Terry Martin.”

  “You can go, Detective Samuels,” the woman behind the desk

  said. “We’ll take it from here.”

  Zander nodded but Terry could see his mate wasn’t happy. He

  guessed Zander wouldn’t go very far. A moment later the door

  clicked shut and Terry was left facing a rather pleasant woman.

  She was probably about thirty five, blond short hair and dressed

  in a nice crisp navy suit. The man beside her radiated hostility

  that Terry could sense from ten foot away. Deciding that attack

  was the best form of defense, Terry strode over to the chair in

  front of the desk and sat down, smiling at the woman.

  “Hi there, my name’s Terry. Do you have any paper and a pen I

  can use? I forgot to get some from Zander before we came in.”

  “Yes, of course,” the woman said with a bemused smile. She

  fossicked around in a desk drawer and pulled out a legal pad and

  a pen.

  Terry smiled his thanks, checked that the pen worked and then

  looked up again.

  “Now can I have your names please, and designation?”

  “I’m Lieutenant Melissa Williams,” the woman said, just as the

  man said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Thank you Lieutenant Williams,” Terry said with a smile. Then

  he turned to the man.

  “I know my rights,” he said seriously this time. “I am recording

  your names and will take notes about this conversation, which I

  am entitled to do seeing as I am not a suspect or being

  interviewed about any crime. My lawyer friend, Richard Thorne

  told me it was a good idea to take the notes, seeing as I have a

  bit of a fluffy memory. Now you are?”

  “You don’t need a lawyer,” Melissa said. “You aren’t in any

  trouble, this is an internal investigation.”

  “I know,” Terry said putting the smile back on his face. “It’s

  about Sully and his homophobic attitude. You know hate crimes

  are illegal but when you look as wonderful as I do, you just

  attract those sorts sometimes.”

  He turned back to the man who was glowering. “What was your

  name and rank again?”

  “Sargent Croydon,” the man spat out.

  Terry carefully wrote that down, determined not to rush. It was

  a simple power trick, but effective.

  “Right,” he said, once he’d finished writing. “What did you want

  to talk to me about?”

  “How long have you known Detective Samuels and Detective

  Roberts?” Croydon asked.

  “Well,” Terry said, leaning back in his chair and crossing one

  ankle over his other knee. He knew it wouldn’t do Zander any

  good to have these two people know how short their relationship

  was. They would never understand the mating concept.

  Deflection was in order. “I can’t say I know Detective Roberts at

  all. I mean the man hates my sheer existence and I’ve only

  spoken to him that day he turned up at Zander’s house

  uninvited. I’ve never seen a man so…” He let his words run off

  as he tried to think of the right term to use.

  “Upset?” Melissa supplied helpful.

  Terry snorted. “Try full scale, about to have a heart attack and

  shoot somebody angry. I’ve never seen someone go so red in

  the face before. I thought I was going to just die when he started

  waving his gun about. Poor little old me, in bed with no clothes

  on when this mad man just bursts in and starts screaming at my

  boyfriend. I mean, how do you think I felt?”

  “What were they yelling about? Detectives Samuels and

  Roberts?”

  “Detective Roberts got some idea that Zander was trying on gay

  shoes in an effort to get a promotion. At least I think that was

  what his problem was. All sounded a bit farfetched for me.”

  “I work for the Police Commissioner’s brother, Madam Morgana,

  as a dress designer.” He added when both Melissa and Croydon

&
nbsp; looked at him blankly. “Roberts thought that Zander was

  sleeping with me in an effort to impress your big boss.”

  “That would hardly be a reason for Detective Roberts to pull out

  his gun.” Croydon said.

  “You’re telling me. I mean what man pulls out a gun at the sight

  of two men in bed together. Pure homophobe, I tell you.

  Couldn’t get much worse.” Terry knew he was laying things on

  thick, but he had to get these two away from the gun angle.

  There was no way that he could explain about Zander turning all

  wolfy on the bed.

  “So you do admit that you and Detective Samuels were in bed

  together when Detective Roberts arrived?” Croydon said.

  “The nasty man woke us up!” Terry said crossly. “Like I need to

  be woken up by some mad man spouting crap about

  abominations and things like that. I don’t need his shit. I think

  Zander handled things fairly well considering how rude Detective

  Roberts was being. I mean no one invited him over. He definitely

  wasn’t supposed to be in our bedroom. Zander hates it if anyone

  sees my body and I certainly don’t want some gay-hater drooling

  over my boyfriend’s chiseled abs. We’re exclusive you know.”

  “So why didn’t you make a report to the police about the threat

  with the gun and the hatred you claim Detective Roberts showed

  you?” Melissa looked like she was sympathetic but Terry wasn’t

  going to trust her.

  “Zander asked me not to. I mean, I was a mess when Detective

  Roberts left. All that yelling, screaming, and insults flying

  around. All before coffee. Not how I like to start my day. I don’t

  know how Zander stayed so calm especially when that horrible

  man pulled his gun out. But Zander told me that Detective

  Roberts was too nice a man to actually shoot me, and what was

  I meant to do? Zander said that if I laid a complaint then his best

  friend in, like the whole world, would get in trouble, and no one

  was physically hurt, so I didn’t worry about it. It would take more

  than a few insults to get me down.”

  “Detective Roberts claimed that his partner invited him over to

  the house, and then insisted that he join you in some weird

  threesome,” Croydon persisted.

  “Weird threesome, really?” Terry arched a brow, confident he

  could pull it off. He’d practiced in the mirror. “If you think it’s

 

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