by Reese, Jaime
Hunter shook his head, smiled, then turned to exit. Before walking out, he looked over his shoulder to see Cam still standing in the middle of the diner with a smirk on his face.
Waiting to see Cam again…Hunter knew he was in for the longest weekend of his life.
* * * *
FBI agent, Connor Ellis, shook his head in disbelief. "So you expect me to believe Preston gave up a deal of three years for a twelve year term then decided to kill himself? What…out of regret for making a mistake or something?"
Hunter leaned back in his chair. "I don't expect you to believe any of this. You think this makes sense to me?"
Connor exhaled heavily. "We've got to be missing something. Let's go over it again."
"We've been over it four times already. There's nothing on these damn papers that's going to make it any clearer. He was busted with drugs on him, which he claimed were not his. Insisted he was set up, but who the hell was going to believe a guy with a drug record the length of my arm. He agrees to take the deal in exchange for some intel, but then changes his mind, and the next day he goes back to trial, which ends exactly the way it was going to end. Now, if you want to figure out what's going on, you need to look at what's not on paper."
"What do you mean?"
"C'mon, Connor. I'm sure you can see there's got to be something else going on here."
"I go by the evidence. I don't go by gut."
"I've known you for years, have you really lost the ability to see through bullshit?"
Connor ran his hands through his hair. "Okay, let's go over what's not on paper."
"I think something else is going on but I'm not entirely sure yet. I just know something is off with this case."
"Stop being so cryptic. Just tell me what you're thinking," Connor said.
Hunter wasn't about to reveal that Preston's name had appeared on his desk in a red file exactly one week before the arrest. He still didn't know the source or purpose of the files but knew the information in Preston's file did not add up to the series of events in the last few days.
"I know he was scared shitless in court. The guy was completely freaking out and kept telling his attorney he wanted to deal. He freaked out so badly they ceased jury selection and that's when we started negotiations."
"So what changed his mind?"
"That's the answer we need to figure out. The next day in court, he was a different person. The panic wasn't there anymore. He was too calm, disconnected."
"So you think someone got to him?"
Hunter steepled his fingers and tapped the tips on his chin. "I don't know for sure, but I can't help thinking, yeah, someone got to him. But the question is why and what the hell convinced him to give away a chance at freedom to do it."
"Okay, let's go back to the drugs on him. The ones he claims weren't his. Are they related to this new drug guy on the streets?"
"I don't know for sure. The heavy guy on the streets right now marks his bags. They all bear a logo and the ones he had in his possession did not."
"The star logo?" Connor asked.
"Yeah," Hunter said as he reached for a sheet of the notebook paper and withdrew the pen from his jacket inside pocket. He sketched the logo he had memorized after seeing it on so many crime scene images. A five-pointed star with four rotated "L" shapes around it. As if the star was on top of a rectangle. "This one."
"So the drugs that were planted were not from this drug guy."
Hunter looked over thoughtfully. "Or maybe they are but they just hadn't had a chance to print the star on them yet."
"Maybe he wanted to sell the drugs, get a cut, create some competition. Some competitors would hurt business and boost sales for the Star Man."
"Fuck, man, don't give this guy a nickname," Hunter said, rubbing his eyes in frustration.
"It's not me, everyone on this case is calling him that. It just hasn't hit the press."
"I don't think the guy is eliminating competition."
"Why not?"
"Preston wasn't pushing."
"Everyone always says 'it wasn't mine'," Connor said with air quotes.
"No, I mean he worked on cleaning up his act. He was clean when he got out and stayed that way for the whole month of his probation. He was focused on being there for his family. That's why this doesn't make any sense."
Hunter had a wealth of information available to him on Preston courtesy of the red file. He had detailed transcripts from Preston's interviews and evaluations, knew Preston was determined to stay out of trouble because of the three-year-old daughter he'd only been able to see grow via visits on occasional weekends while inside. He wanted to be a good father and made every effort available to him to reform his ways. Throwing all that away was a complete contradiction to everything he had worked on in the last few years.
"A lot of things don't make sense here. I don't even know how the hell he got the sharp wedge of plastic to slit his throat," Connor said, rubbing his eyes.
"Have you gotten the forensics report back yet?" Hunter asked.
"No, they're still working on the autopsy. I'm hoping it'll be ready later on today."
"Do you have the pics?"
Connor nodded and reached over to the file on the edge of the table. "Here you go, we've got a blood splatter guy working with forensics to rebuild the scene. He bled out like crazy."
Hunter looked at the images, each one filled with a disturbing amount of blood covering every inch of skin. The gash at his neck, a deep, straight cut just above his Adam's apple left no room for survival.
"He didn't do this to himself," Hunter said absently, still reviewing the crime scene photograph.
"How do you know that for sure?"
"Look at the cut." Hunter turned the image so Connor could look at the photo.
"Yeah, it's a straight cut of the jugular. What are you seeing?"
"It's a clean straight line, no hesitation. It starts behind his right ear, cuts across his neck and stops just past his Adam's apple."
"Hunter, it was a cut with an obvious decision made. That's why it's a clean line."
"But he didn't do that, he couldn't have. Preston was right-handed. The natural thing would be for a right-handed person to start the cut under the left ear," Hunter explained, while holding the pen up to his neck to demonstrate, "not under his right. That would be unnatural."
"How do you know he's right-handed?"
"I noticed when he was signing the paperwork for the deal before he withdrew it."
Connor squinted his eyes and rubbed his temples. "So now we've got a homicide here."
"Something else is going on, I don't know what, but if he didn't slit his own neck, then obviously someone with access did."
A pregnant silence filled the room.
They stared at each other. Implying there was someone on the force who was dirty never worked out well. "Let's keep this between us for now. I want to see what the coroner's report reads on this, and I'm going to interview the staff members present that night. If something is going on, then I think we need to tread carefully here."
"Glad to see you took off the bullshit blocking sunglasses."
Connor shook his head. "This just went from bad to worse. I think I liked it better when I didn't see through the bullshit."
"Somehow, I get the feeling that's what someone else was hoping for as well. We've been at this for a while and there's not much else I can do here," he finished before standing.
"Thanks, man," Connor said, still sitting, frustrated, with his hand in his hair.
"Good luck. If you need me, you know where to find me," Hunter said before exiting the office.
Hunter had no idea who was involved or the reasons why, but it undoubtedly crossed both sides of the law.
Connor was right, this had just gone from bad to worse.
Mondays suck.
Hunter looked forward to Monday for one reason and one reason alone: to see Cam again. It certainly wasn't to race to the office for an impromptu m
eeting. He looked at his watch as he waited for the elevator doors to open. He squeezed through the opening as soon as he heard the ding and headed straight for the conference room where Mel was gathered with her assistant, the other assistant state attorneys from the office, and Jessie. He knew something was wrong the moment he saw Mel pacing the room.
Mel looked up when he entered. "I'm glad you made it," she said and exhaled.
"I've got court in less than an hour…I can't stay. What happened?"
"We received a notice this morning. Judge Peter Gonzalez was dismissed," she said.
Hunter stilled. "What do you mean 'dismissed'?"
"The notice from the court said he was charged with tampering with evidence and all his cases are under review."
"Mel, I know Peter. This is bullshit."
"I know. I wanted to make sure you knew first thing. We're all sorting our cases to make sure all the Ts are crossed and Is dotted."
Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jessie, please pull all the cases where Peter's assigned so we can go over them when I get back today."
"No problem," Jessie said. "I already started gathering the files when I heard the news."
Hunter looked at his watch. "I've got to go. We'll talk more about this later. I should be able to wrap things up by lunchtime."
Mel nodded as he raced out of the office. Maybe he'd be able to get more information at the courthouse. News of this type spread like wildfire through the grapevine. Right now, he needed to channel his focus on the hearing. He hated Monday trials. Everyone was pissed and things moved too slowly. He certainly wasn't expecting news like this to jump-start his day.
* * * *
Hunter exited the elevator to his office floor and loosened his tie. A simple one hour slam dunk hearing had extended to four hours of sidebar disputes and bullshit delays.
Mondays suck.
"Sir?" Jessie said, looking up at him with a strained expression.
Hunter felt a prickling in the back of his neck. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"It's Mel. She got a call about two hours ago and she—"
"Sons of bitches!" Mel yelled as she exited the elevator.
She spotted Hunter and bee-lined over to him.
"What the hell?" Hunter said. Mel didn't do hysterics.
He followed her into his office and saw her throw her bag on his couch.
"I'm sorry, Hunter. I'm so damn sorry," she said and slumped on the couch. She rested her head in her hands and mumbled.
Hunter knelt before her and pulled her hands away. "What happened?"
Mel sighed. "A call came in about the Carlos Ortega case while you were in court."
"And?"
"It was one of Peter's cases. Kevin Mackler, the replacement judge, demanded the preliminary hearing happen immediately to start clearing out the docket. I tried calling you but it went right to voice mail."
"My phone was off. The hearing took longer than expected."
Mel roughly pulled her hair away from her face. "I didn't have a choice. I had to step in."
Hunter nodded. As supervising counsel of the department, Mel was usually called to fill in when another assistant state attorney wasn't available. "What happened?"
"I'm still trying to figure it out. It was horrible. The attorneys were bastards. Three sons of bitches. I wasn't familiar enough with the case and—"
Hunter held Mel's hand to stop her rambling. "Mel, what happened?"
Mel stopped talking and stared at him incredulously. "They threw out the case, Hunter."
"Why?"
"Fuck if I know. It all happened too fast, and I was having a hard time focusing on anything other than the mess that started early this morning—"
Hunter squeezed Mel's hands to still her. He was just as angry but it wasn't going to resolve the situation. "We'll wait for the minutes of the hearing to come in. Once we have the written ruling, we'll review it and refile."
"You know how the system is. That could take weeks."
"I know, but we've got enough to keep us busy here with our regular cases especially now with Peter getting dismissed. Ortega isn't going anywhere. If he was released, they'll figure we won't pursue it further, and he'll continue doing what he's doing."
Mel exhaled and lowered her head. "I'm sorry."
"Stop it."
Mel looked up at Hunter who still knelt on the floor in front of her. "You should get up. Anyone who looks through your open door is going to think you're proposing."
Hunter chuckled and stood. He could feel the pulse of a headache begin to form.
Mel stood and reached out to squeeze his arm. "You look exhausted."
"It's been a crappy day. I'm going to take a quick break and grab something to eat."
Mel nodded. "Don't take too long. We need to go over a few cases. I'm not getting blindsided like this again." She turned and walked out of Hunter's office.
He looked over his shoulder at the blazing Miami sun filtering through his window. He imagined Cam's face, those eyes, and that smile. His simmering anger slowly dissipated. He couldn't resolve anything in this state of mind.
All he wanted—needed—was to see Cam.
* * * *
Cam gave up on waiting for Hunter to show up at the diner. If Hunter hadn't arrived by now, he just wasn't coming in. He grunted as he lifted the heavy box of supplies and placed it in the storage area. He wiped the sweat from his brow and thought it was rather poetic. Just when he'd decided to finally start this week on a different note, bite the bullet and try to make a move, to do something, anything, Hunter didn't make an appearance at the diner.
Just my fucking luck.
Thoughts of this man consumed him—the way he watched him with that piercing stare, the hesitant smile, soothing voice, large hands, and filled out suit. He liked Hunter, more than he had ever liked another man.
"Hunter," Cam chuckled. "I'd be his prey any day."
He shook his head and huffed a laugh. He liked the way Hunter stared at him. Cam had observed the guy enough to know he didn't look at anyone else in that diner the way he looked at him. Even if Cameron didn't see him when he walked in, he had a heightened awareness of Hunter. He was compelled to seek him out. Looking around, searching, he'd find Hunter…watching him. Cam was flattered he seemed interested. A flush of color tinted the man's face whenever Cam caught him staring.
Cam tried to control his desire for Hunter. For almost a decade, he'd managed to repress any sexual urges out of sheer survival while in prison, but Hunter set him off balance and his intense gaze ignited a raw lust he had never experienced. His vivid imagination kept him aroused for the better part of the day and most of the night. He needed to do something because an accidental touch of the man's skin just wasn't enough.
"Why don't you take your break now, Cam," Lucy said as she walked into the back room.
Cam finished straightening the stack of boxes when he looked over. "I'm almost finished, I can take it a bit later."
"Hunter's at his corner," Lucy said with a devilish grin.
A tingling sensation traveled through Cam's body. "When did he get here?" he asked in a hushed tone.
"A few minutes ago. He just walked in, waved, and sat in the corner. He's too quiet. Maybe you should go take your break?"
Cam looked at her and chuckled. He enjoyed how Lucy teased him with little encouragements like this. Between Matt, Julian, Lucy, and Bill, they had all managed to make him comfortable and accepted in his new surroundings. Something he was easily getting accustomed to since his release. Lucy had quickly picked up on the attraction and couldn't resist her desire to play Cupid and nudge Cam every chance she had. She insisted Hunter was a good man who needed someone like Cameron who always seemed to make him smile.
"What if it's not mutual," he'd tease her just to get a rise out of her.
She'd immediately stop whatever she was doing and plant her hands on her waist. "I'm old, not blind, young man."
He shook his head
and chuckled at the memory as Lucy continued to rummage through the drawers. "What are you looking for?" he asked.
"There's a lightbulb that's out in the eating area. Maybe you could go change that," she said.
He pointed to the drawer on the far left of the room and watched her race over and pull out the box of bulbs.
Lucy handed him the bulb with a simple command, "Go."
"Which light is it?"
"Above table four."
Cam arched an eyebrow. Table four was directly in front of Hunter's usual corner. "How convenient."
"Funny, I thought the same thing. Now go," she said, shooing him away.
Cam grabbed the ladder from the storage closet and made his way to the front sitting area. Hunter's demeanor was different. He sat with his elbow on the table and his head in his hands. He looked upset, defeated—definitely not the way he normally looked. Seeing Hunter like this, Cam needed to distract him, anything to remove this out of character somberness.
As if sensing Cam's presence, Hunter lowered his hands from his face and looked up. He stared at Cameron as he walked toward the sitting area. His expression softened. His eyebrows changed from bunched to relaxed and his eyes were no longer squinted. Slowly, one side of his mouth began to form a smile. Cameron did a mental fist bump.
"Hi," Cam said, trying for casual. No sense in giving the guy a hard time today with the 'sir' thing since he already looked as if someone had kicked him in the balls.
"Hi," Hunter responded with a full smile.
"Don't mind me, I just need to change the bulb." Cam moved some of the tables out of the way and made space for the ladder.
Cam didn't need to look at Hunter to know he was being intently watched. He could feel Hunter's gaze ghosting over his skin with each of his movements. He reached over to unscrew the light fixture and heard a groan escape from Hunter's corner. Cam casually glanced over his shoulder and saw Hunter staring at his body. Cam smiled. If it took giving a little bit of a show for Hunter to come in for the kill of his prey, then so be it.