If You're Going Through Hell Keep Going

by Tinnean

  Why would he call now? It was noon in LA, and since his shift in Labor and Delivery had been switched and now started at 11:00 p.m., he was usually still asleep at this time.

  I touched the screen. “Hey, Paul. How are things in LA?”

  “Vince... Vince!”

  Jesus, he sounded like he was going to hyperventilate.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Spike isn’t home!”

  Okay, I knew Paul was protective of his young lover, but I also knew he wasn’t one to overreact. “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “Yesterday morning. He has a small role on CIA, as the friend of a computer geek who hacks into an important lab’s mainframe, and they were going to film it yesterday.” It was a measure of his distress that he told me something he knew I was already aware of. “He was so excited. I don’t know why they always have him playing kids....”

  Most likely because he was a kid. Spike wouldn’t be nineteen until early in the fall. I walked to the window—Ms. Parker had one in her office too—and stared at the building across the street, not really seeing it. “Focus, Paul. We’ll worry about that another time.”

  “Yes. Okay, yes. I was just going to bed, and he kissed me and said he’d be back early and that I should sleep until then, he’d wake me up the best way.” His voice cracked. “I didn’t set my alarm. Well, I thought Spike would.... But it was the neighbor who woke me up.”

  “The one with the ’69 Mustang?”

  “Yeah.”

  The muscle car had a backfire that sounded like a shotgun blast. I’d heard it when I’d visited them a couple of weeks before, and if Paul hadn’t stopped me, I’d have gone after the idiot who decided five in the morning was a good time to work on the engine.

  “I went looking through the apartment, and when I saw he wasn’t home, I checked my phone for messages, but there was nothing. I called him, but it went right to voice mail. So I called the studio to see if there was some holdup, but the person I spoke to said production had been over for a few hours. Then I called Falling Water. Spike wasn’t scheduled to work, but he was always willing to help out a friend.”

  I didn’t bother asking if Paul had had any luck with the restaurant where Spike waited tables. He wouldn’t be on the phone with me now if he had.

  “I started calling his friends, but they hadn’t seen him since the weekend. I tried the guys he works with, but they all thought he’d gone for the day once filming was done.”

  “Did you check the hospitals?” It was obvious the thought that Spike might be screwing around on him never once crossed his mind. The kid was devoted to him, in spite of his age, and as corny as that might sound.

  “Of course. I even called the morgue. Thank God there was no one matching his description.”

  “He didn’t go back to bleaching his hair, did he?” A john had once told Spike he resembled the character from Buffy, so he’d taken the name, become a blond, and went around sucking in his cheeks.

  “What? No!” Paul sounded insulted on Spike’s behalf.

  “Sorry.”

  “Huh. Anyway, I called the cops.” He growled. “They said they’d put him in the system, but I could tell from the way they said it, they weren’t taking me seriously.”

  “They thought it was a lover’s quarrel?”

  “Y-yeah. I guess.”

  “Okay, that was last night. Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

  “Vince, you’ve done so much for me. I thought I could... I called the hospital where I work and told them I couldn’t come in—”

  “Is that gonna put you in a bind?”

  “No. I told them it was a family emergency. They’re really good about things like that.”

  “Okay.” I wouldn’t have to go talk to anyone about it. “Go on.”

  “I drove around the rest of the night and all morning, going to the places he l-likes to hang out. Vince... I’m so scared....”

  “Look. I’ll get the first flight out.” And if I couldn’t book anything, I’d charter a flight. Paul, who’d been working as the rent boy Pretty Boy, had helped when I’d come back to the States after my idiot partner had gotten himself killed, and no matter what, I would do whatever was necessary for him. “And listen to me. You’re going to be good for nothing if you fall apart on me. From what you’ve said, you’ve been up almost twenty-four hours. Go take a nap.” Hopefully, by the time he woke up, I’d have flown into LAX. “Paul. Hang in there, babe.”

  “Babe.” He laughed, soft but sorrowful. “It’s been a long time since you called me that.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  His laugh sounded better this time. “Thank you, Vince.”

  “That’s what friends are for. I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you in a few hours.” I disconnected the call and ran a hand through my hair.

  “Mr. Vincent?” I’d totally forgotten Ms. Parker was there. “I’m sorry. I listened in on your call. I’ve booked a flight for you out of Dulles to LAX. It leaves in an hour and a half. I thought you’d want to get there as soon as possible. I’ve also reserved a car for you. A shuttle from the airport will take you to the rental company.”

  “Thank you.”

  “After everything you’ve done for us.... Oh, and I canceled your meeting with Howard.”

  Smart woman. “Thanks,” I said again. I had no clue how long I’d be on the West Coast, and I couldn’t keep rescheduling. As for the tapes Gershom had given me last week—it was five days, and he hadn’t asked for them back. He’d either forgotten about them or else he didn’t fucking care. Either way, he could wait until I returned to DC.

  “Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Get The Boss for me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I went into my office and pulled out the duffel I kept in the back of the storage closet, always packed and ready to go. A gun made of a plastic polymer Romero had come up with was disassembled and tucked away in a padded compartment, while the projectiles were stored in another compartment. It wasn’t as deadly as my Glock, but it looked lethal and would make whoever I aimed it at think twice.

  The WBIS would hold my mail; I didn’t have a newspaper delivered; I’d get rid of the stuff in the fridge if it went bad....

  Oh, shit! The kitten!

  Who could I get to watch her?

  I pulled out my cell phone and called Theo.

  “Theo Bascopolis, accountant at large. How may I help you?” That was right, it was tax season, and Theo would be up to his ears in returns.

  “Theo, it’s Vincent.”

  “Vince? What’s—Wills? Is he all right?”

  “Yeah, he’s fine. I sent him to take a nap. Look, Paul’s in trouble.” There was no point keeping this from him. “Spike’s missing, and I’m flying out to deal with it. I need a favor.”

  “Oh, Jesus…. What can I do?”

  “I have a kitten—”

  “You do? Since when?”

  “Since… Theo, is that really important?”

  “No, I guess not. I’m sorry.”

  “Can I leave her with you?”

  “Sure. You want me to come pick her up? Just leave the key—”

  “No!” I could see him triggering the door, and the explosion taking out him, the kitten, and the whole fucking condo.

  “Geez! You don’t have to be so jumpy!”

  If he only knew. I checked my watch. Shit. I was really crunched for time. “Look, you know where my condo is. Meet me there, okay? Wait for me outside the gate.”

  “I’m leaving right now.”

  “Thanks, Theo. I owe you.”

  “Vince, you don’t owe me a thing. You gave me Wills! And besides, you’re doing this for Paul.”

  “I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.” The intercom buzzed. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay, Vince.” The line went silent, and I hung up and pressed the key on the intercom.

  “What line?”

  “He’s on on
e, sir.”

  I hit one.

  “What is it, Mark?”

  “I hope you don’t need to be out of the office, Trevor. I’m flying out to the Coast. Something’s come up—”

  “Oh?”

  I sighed. “Family emergency, sir.” I waited for him to object and tell me my family—my father’s brother and his wife, kids and grandkids—was in Massachusetts, and I was a little surprised when he didn’t.”

  “Fine. But Mark… that problem we were facing? Murphy is having a hard time with it.”

  I realized he meant coming up with a program if the CIA hacked into Davies’s computer.

  “It’s under control. Matheson’s dealt with it.”

  “He’s a good man. See he gets a commendation for this.”

  “That was my intention.”

  “All right. He can make sure things run smoothly in Interior Affairs—”

  “He’s been working for the past day and a half straight, and he’s out of commission until tomorrow. You’ll have to rely on Winchester.” If I wasn’t in such a rush, I’d cringe at the thought of that agent in charge of this department.

  “This is why I wanted you to have more agents.”

  “Yeah, well, Rayne isn’t up to speed, and Winchester’s all we’ve got right now.”

  “Let him know he can call on me if he runs into any difficulties.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Like I’d have someone in my department bug The Boss. “I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it, Mark. Good luck with your journey.”

  “Thank you.” He hung up, and I hit the intercom. “Ms. Parker, get Winchester in here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Three minutes later Winchester hurried in. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  I slid my arms into my overcoat and slung the strap of my duffel over my shoulder. “I’m leaving you to take care of Interior Affairs.”

  His eyes widened. “I’m in charge?”

  God help us!

  “Uh... what about Matheson?”

  “He has the rest of the day off.”

  “So... I am in charge!” He looked ready to dance a jig.

  “Don’t...” I couldn’t tell him not to touch anything. If I wasn’t willing to trust him to a degree, the only fair thing to do would be to cut him loose. “If you have any questions, run them by Ms. Parker.”

  “She’s going to be my secretary?”

  “No, she’s my secretary. I’m letting you borrow her expertise. Treat her well, or Granger will have your left ball. And when I get back, I’ll have the right one.”

  “Uh... yes, sir.”

  “Okay.” I started out. “Oh, and don’t touch my computer.”

  “Will it shut down the Net if I do?” He chuckled.

  “Yeah.”

  “I was joking!”

  “I wasn’t.” In the outer office, I said to Ms. Parker, “If anything goes wrong, let The Boss know.”

  “Yes, sir. Mr. Vincent?”

  I paused at the door and looked back over my shoulder.

  “I hope you find your friend safe.”

  “Thanks.” If I didn’t, I was going to kill him.

  Chapter 24

  Theo was waiting outside the gate of Aspen Reach when I got there. I activated it, and it swung open slowly.

  I passed through, with Theo on my tail, and drove to my building. I parked in front of the lobby, and Theo parked behind me.

  “I don’t have much time,” I told him as I ran a keycard through the swipe lock and opened the lobby door.

  “That’s fine. You haven’t heard anything else, have you?”

  “No, but I know someone who knows someone on the CIA set. I’m going to call him as soon as I get to LA.” I waited for Theo to ask why I wasn’t calling him now, but he was still too close to his rent boy years to question me. We took the stairs up to the third floor, walked down the corridor to my condo, and I unlocked the door. “Come on in.”

  “I have to say we did a great job on this place,” he murmured as he looked around. “It’s so much less… pink.”

  “Yeah, it is, isn’t it? Pita!”

  “That’s your cat’s name?”

  “It’s temporary. I’m giving her to a friend’s mother for Mother’s Day.” I whistled shrilly.

  “That isn’t the way to call a cat!”

  “No?” I couldn’t help grinning as Pita came strolling down the hallway, her tail waving like a plume.

  Theo shook his head. “Okay, I should have known you’d have your own way with cats. Do you have a carrier?”

  “Yeah. It’s in my closet.” A thought occurred to me. “Look, is there going to be a problem with your cat?”

  “Miss Su? Nah, she’s a sweetheart. I’ll introduce them gradually, but if they don’t get along, would it be all right if I asked the ladies downstairs to mind Pita?”

  “No, that’ll be fine. She has to get used to women.” Who won’t run out on her. “Her food’s in the pantry as well, and she has toys scattered throughout the condo. Take whatever you think you’ll need. I’ll go get her bed and the carrier.”

  “Sounds good. Don’t worry about a litter pan.”

  Within ten minutes we had Theo’s Corvair stocked with the kitten’s belongings. She stared at me through the mesh on one end of the carrier.

  “I won’t be gone long, cat.” I hoped. “Be a good girl and don’t make me look like a bad dad.”

  Theo suddenly flushed. “Uh… Wills and I are talking about starting a family once we’re married.”

  “Yeah?” So Matheson had gone ahead and brought up the topic.

  “The thing is… do you think I’ll be a good dad?”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Well… the only thing my own father ever taught me was how to throw out a son who was gay.”

  “Jesus, Theo!” I didn’t have time for this. “What do you think you were to all the boys who were in your family?”

  “Huh? I only have a sister.”

  “All the rent boys you looked out for over the years?”

  “They were part of our stable.”

  “They were your family. You did good by them, and you’ll do great by any kid you have. What does Matheson have to say about it?”

  “Um… pretty much what you said, except about the boys. He… uh… he doesn’t really know about those years.”

  “He doesn’t? He struck me as more clued-in than that.”

  “Ass.” Theo poked my shoulder. “Of course he knows what I did, but I never really talked about Bud and Mick or Paul and Spike or Tangerine or the Kid or even Connor.”

  “Well, that’s your call, but Matheson obviously has confidence in you.”

  “But—”

  “Look, Theo, this hypothetical child isn’t in your lives yet. Worry about it then. I’ve got to get going or I’ll miss my flight.”

  “Okay, Vince. Keep me posted, okay?”

  “You bet. Bye, Pita.” I stepped back.

  “I always knew you were a big softie!” Theo grinned out the window.

  “Excuse me?”

  Still grinning, he put the little car in gear and drove off.

  I checked my watch. Jesus, I’d really have to hustle. I got in the Dodge and headed for Dulles.

  After parking in the long term lot—I had no idea how long I’d be in LA—I got my boarding pass, went through security, and found the gate I’d be leaving from.

  The airline representative got on the address system. “Flight 873 nonstop to LA is now boarding passengers needing assistance and those with small children.”

  I looked across as passengers who’d be flying out to LA with me rose and began lining up. They’d have to wait; it would still be some time before they could board, but they wanted to be ready.

  That meant I probably had about fifteen minutes before my row was called. The gate across the way had no flight scheduled, so the seats were all empty. I crossed over to it and placed the duffel on a seat
, then pulled out my cell phone and hit one on speed dial.

  The phone rang three times and then four, and I wondered if it was going to go to voice mail. Maybe this wasn’t a good time for Quinn? I was mentally composing the message I planned to leave, but before his greeting... Mann. Go. ... came on, he picked up.

  “Quinn—”

  “Good evening, Mark,” he said.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s nine o’clock where you are.”

  “Actually it’s almost nine-fifteen. And how are you?”

  “I’ve got a—uh… I’m good. How are you?”

  “I’m quite well. Mother and I are having dinner with Lord Creighton.”

  “Shit. This is a bad time.”

  “It’s never a bad time.”

  “Isn’t it kind of late for dinner? Or are you gonna tell me different strokes for different folks?”

  “Jack prefers to dine at eight, but the conversation has gotten... interesting.” He laughed, but quickly became serious. “What’s going on, Mark?”

  “A friend of mine has been missing since some time yesterday. None of his friends or coworkers has seen him, and he’s not in any of the hospitals or the morgue, so I’m figuring someone’s snatched him.”

  “Your former landlord?”

  “Theo? No, he’s okay. He volunteered to watch Pita for me.”

  “Who?”

  “The kitten I’m giving Portia for Mother’s Day. Oh, shit, is she near? Did she hear that? You don’t have your phone on speaker, do you? Fuck it, I wanted to surprise her!”

  “That’s quite all right. I’ve stepped away from the table. Although she would never stoop to eavesdropping.”

  “No, she wouldn’t. Sorry, Quinn.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease, especially when you have a serious situation going on.”

  “Y’know something, babe? I like when you do.”

  “No one else….”

  Just like no one else saw the heat below his Ice Man exterior? They were all fools.

  “Well, I apologize.”

  “And I forgive you.”

  “You’re too kind.” He chuckled wryly, and if he’d been here, I would have jumped him. “How bad is it? Do you need me?”

  “Always, babe. But I’ve got this. Or I will once I get out to LA and get it sorted out. I’ll need to talk to your uncle.”