by Jaime Reese
"Jessie's not lying."
"He didn't say that," Sunny jumped in, sitting next to Aidan.
Aidan raked his fingers through his hair. "I know." Everything regarding this case had him on edge. "Jessie did try to report it back then, but the moment he approached a cop, they were more concerned about having a guardian with him because he was a minor. And where Jessie was concerned, that wasn't an option so he didn't file a formal charge."
Travis's jaw muscles twitched. "That's the problem. We think it's not the first time and we think the victims have always been in the same age group and circumstances. That's why we're looking into unsolved cases that might share some detail to what happened to Vega. Just in case he's done this before and slipped up somewhere."
"And Reyes has me looking into missing persons that fit the same physical traits as Jessie. Just in case we spot a trend for that region. We're all looking into different areas. Hopefully something will hit," Sunny said.
Aidan exhaled slowly, trying to control the simmering rage that threatened to break free, underscoring why he hated working assault cases. He wanted to catch this monster and exercise any one of the million kill options he'd noted on his mental list in the last six months. Cuffing the bastard and letting him serve prison time on the taxpayer's dollar…nope, definitely not on that list.
"Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. I don't know how Jessie handles this so well, but I just want this done."
Travis leaned back in his chair and lowered his brow. "Is he being careful or has he let his guard down?"
"We sent Bull away two months ago because he felt suffocated with a bodyguard and always being watched. Jessie's careful and aware. He works from home and all his work is through his corporation, so his personal info is shielded for the most part. He's got access to all my accounts, so anything he needs goes through my name. He doesn't go out alone unless he's got a business meeting with a client. And when he does, he makes it a point of letting me know when he leaves and returns home. He's cautious but not obsessed about it."
"But?" Travis prompted.
Aidan sighed and hung his head. "He's still pushing me to show him how to use a gun."
"So show him," Sunny said. "Who better to teach him how to use a gun than Mr. I Don't Miss. You can use the range here. There's absolutely nothing wrong with knowing how to use a gun."
"Said the homicide detective." Aidan glared at his partner.
Sunny rolled her eyes. "There's a difference between having peace of mind knowing you're comfortable with how to use one if the situation arises and being pushed into a situation where your life depends on it but don't know what to do."
Fucking logic again. He hated that shit. Aidan rubbed his eyes then ran his hand harshly against his face. Jessie had mentioned wanting to know how to use a gun but never mentioned wanting to carry one or get a permit. Then again, Aidan kept a small arsenal stashed in different corners throughout their house. It made sense for Jessie to know how to use one of the weapons to defend himself if needed. "I'll think about it."
Travis chuckled. "You're such a momma bear."
Sunny covered her mouth but snorted in amusement.
Mother hen now momma bear? Being castrated to fit some bullshit stereotype pissed him the hell off.
"Just show the guy how to use a gun. Look at it this way. Do you want him to learn from you or take some class and learn from someone else?" Travis asked.
Damn Travis and his fucking logic. He sighed and crossed his arms. Mixing Jessie with anything aggressive or violent didn't sit well with him and forced all his protective instincts into overdrive.
Wall entered the room carrying a handful of files, sparing Aidan the need to respond. Another group of potential cases to review and leads to follow. Over the course of the last six months, their small team had exponentially closed more cases than their individual departments combined. They'd proven their effectiveness and the other government agencies were anxious to include them in more multi-jurisdictional cases.
They were successful.
They were problem solvers.
Except for the one case that seemed to nag them all the most.
* * * *
"You've got to be kidding me?" Cole said, leaning back in the side chair and propping his boots on the coffee table.
"Get your feet off the table," Jessie said, walking over to the living room and shoving Cole's boots off the wooden edge. "I asked you to send me that recipe for that stuffed chicken breast thing Aidan likes so I can make it next week, I didn't expect you to show up and give me a hard time. You could have emailed it." He sat on the couch and leaned his head back, blowing out an exasperated breath.
"That's no fun. You know I love to shoot the shit with you for a while. Besides, with that mountain of file crap on the table, you need a break."
"Did you bring the recipe or do you need something to write it down?"
"Don't change the subject. You're not getting off that easy," Cole said. "Come to think of it, you're not getting off at all," he finished with a guffaw.
"Real proud of yourself, aren't you?" He wouldn't deny he could use a break from all the casework, but he didn't need Cole to highlight his frustration.
"This whole 'just friends' shit is getting old," Cole said with an eye roll and air quotes. "You guys have been puppy dogging each other for almost two years. Why the hell doesn't he make a move?"
"Fuck if I know why." Jessie straightened in his seat and pursed his lips, crossing his arms, asking himself the same question for the millionth time.
A slow smile spread across Cole's face. That look never meant anything good.
"What?" Jessie rolled his eyes and inwardly cringed.
"You've been hanging around him too much. You've turned into a potty mouth."
Jessie narrowed his eyes.
"Ooh, you're picking up the glare too."
"Fuck you."
Cole scowled then scrunched his face after a moment. "Nah. That doesn't sound right coming from you. Tell me to go 'shove it where the sun don't shine' or something like that. That would fit better with you."
Jessie sighed. He and Aidan teased one another, but it never went further than a chaste kiss on the cheek or a random gesture like the morning pat on the ass. And certainly nothing Aidan initiated. While in the hospital, he was always there and didn't hesitate to help or sit bedside each night. And if Jessie had a restless night, Aidan would hold his hand to keep the monsters at bay. Since his discharge, the nightmares had subsided, so had the bedside watch. Jessie was left with the occasional brush of fingers in his hair when they sat on the couch, a gesture he suspected Aidan didn't even realize he did as they watched television.
"Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Aidan's not gay," Jessie finally mumbled.
"My gaydar is finely tuned, little man. Trust me, he's gay and has the hots for you."
"He's close with his partner," he said with a sigh. Damn, he hated feeling self-conscious.
"There's no way he's into 'flowers' or whatever PC term is being used today to describe the vajayjay."
Jessie rolled his eyes again. "I'm being serious."
"I am too. He's into you…well, not literally, but you know what I mean. He's got a thing for you. You've changed in the last few months but—"
"I haven't changed," Jessie said, his eyebrows arching upward, worried he had done something unconsciously to stall any minute progress between him and Aidan.
"You've got biceps you can flex now." Cole leaned forward and yanked up Jessie's shirt. "And you've got abs too."
Jessie pushed away Cole's hands and pulled his shirt back down, scowling at his always meddling friend.
"You can arm wrestle Carmen and totally kick her ass."
"That's…flattering."
"Carmen was the only girl out of six of us. She's an undercover badass. And what's up with you? It's like I'm talking to a little version of Aidan. You're even picking up his sarcasm."
"Shut up," Jessie mumbled. "And stop
calling me little. I'm only an inch shorter than you."
Cole leaned forward in the chair, resting his forearms on his thighs. "Do you ever ask him?"
Jessie cocked his head. "Ask him what?"
"There's something about him I can't figure out. I know the man's crazy about you—that's a given. You can see it in his eyes. His body vibrates when you're in the room."
"Stop being so dramatic. I'm trying to have a serious conversation here."
"How do you not see it?" Cole asked and shook his head. "I totally get that he's private. But he takes it to a whole other top-secret level. You're going to have to make the first move. Just jump the man."
Jessie grabbed one of the small cushions and hugged the soft material. Being so close to Aidan each day was torturous—they were close in proximity but, somehow, still light years away. "I'm not pushing him. That's a surefire way to get him to shut down."
"You can't go at him like a regular person. You need to take a crack at him in an unexpected way. If he doesn't see you coming and lets his guard down, you might be able to break through. Maybe you can sneak up on him, dig underneath that barrier he has around him."
"You make it sound like a prison break," Jessie said, raising an eyebrow.
Cole shrugged. "Well, technically. Isn't that what it is for him?"
Jessie chewed his bottom lip as his mind wandered.
"It's like… I don't know," Cole said, tugging his beanie. "It's as if he wants to be with you, but he doesn't know how. I doubt it's a lack of sexual experience. I mean, seriously, look at him. The guy's super-hot."
Jessie's focus snapped back to Cole. He tightened his grip on the cushion in his arms, fisting the material to control the bubbling jealousy.
Cole immediately raised his hands in surrender. "Whoa there, Vega. He's not the Calloway I want." He then scowled and waggled his finger at Jessie. "And if you tell him I said he was hot, I swear, I'm totally unfriending you."
Jessie bit his lip. Cole always seemed to make him smile regardless of his mood.
"He's different." Cole's mood sobered, leaning back in the chair again with a frown. "When you were in the hospital, Aidan freaked out…but not like regular freaking out. It's as if he was numb or something. It wasn't like him. He's usually in control and has a plan, but he seemed…lost. He even had me worried so I tried to see if Ty could get through to him, but Ty was scared out of his mind. He'd just tell me that that guy wasn't his brother so he didn't know how to get through to him." Cole shook his head and crossed one booted foot over his knee. He tugged on his laces, lost in thought for a few moments before he spoke. "I didn't know what he meant at first and I kinda shrugged it off."
"But?" Jessie prompted.
"Then I saw an old video."
Jessie tossed the cushion to the side and leaned forward. "Of what?"
"A home video. Ty totally looks like his dad. And man, Aidan looks like his mom. It's funny, because they kinda look alike but still different and you know that thing—"
"Cole, focus please." Sometimes, he could easily understand why Aidan wanted to strangle him.
Cole stared at him and blinked a few times. "Oh! Yeah! The video. He was different. Not like the Aidan I know and love to piss off."
Jessie threw his head back against the couch. Sometimes, even his patience ran a little thin. Especially when he was so…frustrated. "You already said he was different. Different how?"
"Everything. He was smiling, laughing, and he and Ty were roughhousing the way I used to with my brother. It's like he's a pod person now. Totally weird."
Jessie fidgeted, tugging on the seam of his jeans. He had to admit, the shift in Aidan's personality from lighthearted to all-serious piqued his interest. What had hurt Aidan badly enough to warrant that iron fortress around his heart? Jessie took a deep breath. That answer would have to wait for now; he had a few pressing deadlines. "Believe it or not, I'd love to have you hang out, but I have a ton of work I need to wrap up today."
Cole nodded and stood from the chair, walking over to the folders and papers Jessie had spread out on the table. "Can I grab a sheet from this notebook?"
Jessie nodded and walked over to him. If Cole was going to write down that recipe, Jessie needed to make sure he could understand the handwriting which was usually as erratic as the man himself or the quirky Renzo-shortcode for abbreviations he assumed the world could decipher on their own.
While Jessie questioned each random squiggle he couldn't understand, his mind wandered elsewhere, to the one mystery man who increased his frustration yet still managed to ease his mind. A mystery he couldn't wait to solve.
Aidan sat in the rickety chair and leaned forward with his forearms against his thighs. He hated waiting. He peered up at the walls and the high ceilings at the peeling paint and broken windows of the abandoned building. Definitely not the standard interrogation room, but it would work all the same. Especially under these circumstances.
He swiped at the sweat trickling down his temple. Fucking Miami heat. The musty scent of concrete mixed with the all-too-familiar humidity definitely didn't help cool his temper. He pulled out his phone to send a text message.
Probably going to be late.
Jessie immediately responded. Want me to save you dinner?
Aidan smiled and something fluttered in his chest. Jessie always seemed to do that to him. I'll grab something.
OK. Be safe.
He pocketed his phone and watched his equally impatient team members. Travis paced the room with his hands shoved in his pockets, and Wall stood with arms crossed, leaning against the concrete wall. Wall against a wall. For some reason, that always made him chuckle.
"If he doesn't talk here, and we take him to the station, he'll be out within the hour and we'll lose the only fucking lead we've got." Travis continued to pace.
Aidan crossed his arms and scowled, staring at the closed door of the neighboring room. It shouldn't take fifteen minutes to extract information. Not unless Manny was offering the perp a drink and a smile and trying to charm the information out of him. Any means necessary. The rules handed down for this case were clear: there weren't any. They had finally found a lead in the Traveling Matador case, the FBI-nicknamed serial killer responsible for three dozen deaths over a span of five years across six states—the most recent, two nights ago in South Florida. The link: the discarded victims were each wrapped in a red cape and speared with a decorative dagger. Their one lead sat in that room—the man who'd decorated the daggers had decided to start signing his work. He had picked the worst time to showcase his vanity.
The barely-hanging-on door of the room swung open and Manny stormed out with Sunny close on his heels.
Manny planted his hands at his hips and his nostrils flared with each angry huff of breath. "Son of a bitch won't give us the name. I texted our contact at the FBI to come here and pick him up. Maybe they can get something from him."
Aidan looked over at a too-quiet Sunny with her arms tightly crossed. Even he could detect something was off. He walked over to her. "Are you okay?"
She nodded quickly. Too quickly.
Aidan glanced over his shoulder to Manny. "What the hell happened in there?"
Manny turned sharply, then stilled when he saw Sunny, her arms wrapped even tighter around herself. Manny's features softened and hardened at the same time. She pointedly glanced at Aidan before exiting the building.
She was anything but fine and she'd never let anyone else in on the whys.
Aidan walked up to Manny, invading his space. "What did he say?"
Manny glanced at the door of the neighboring room and sneered. "The son of a bitch said he was working with someone, but we'd never catch him. He described what the guy would do to her." He turned to face Aidan, the anger evident with each controlled breath. "In detail. She wasn't fazed at all in there. I didn't think she'd let it sink in."
Of course he didn't. No one ever did. Sunny was as much a wall as Wall was to most people, especially wh
en it came to anything emotional or personal. In her mind, she had to be. Just as Aidan fought a stereotype regarding who he preferred in bed, Sunny constantly kicked and punched that glass ceiling every chance she had and refused to show any form of weakness or fit anyone's version of a damsel in distress.
But one homicide case they had worked together some time ago had revealed a hint of vulnerability she couldn't hide from Aidan's questioning stare. She'd finally confessed that her driving force to join the police had also been the one thing that ate away at her core. As a child, she had witnessed a violent attack against her older sister and had locked it away as best she could in her mind. But Aidan had seen that same vulnerability a few times since joining the team—handling Jessie's case and all these other serial assaults the team tackled affected her. Unfortunately, he could sympathize far more than he wanted to admit.
Aidan tried to control the building rage vibrating throughout his body. "Give me five minutes."
"He won't talk."
"Five. Fucking. Minutes. Reyes."
Manny raised his hands in exasperation. "Fine. You've got a few minutes before they get here to take him."
Aidan looked at Wall and tilted his head, signaling him to follow. Wall pushed off his perch and silently fell in line behind him as they walked into the room. The scrawny man with closely cropped hair sat on the wooden chair with his hands bound in his lap. Wall found a spot in the corner and waited with crossed arms.
"What the hell do you want? I already told that other guy I wasn't saying shit," the man spat.
Aidan clasped his hands behind his back and slowly paced in front of the perp. He generally wasn't patient, but he knew enough about head games to wait out a suspect during an interrogation. Especially one where a little more…encouragement was needed to get the end result. He walked the length of the room, not saying a word, his gait slow, without a hurry in the world. A simple power play so the jerk thought he had the upper hand. He expected Aidan to speak, to ask the same questions as Manny, to be on edge and asking nicely for answers the suspect would not willingly give. The man was too confident and had already rattled Sunny's cage. The smug look on his face, a clear indication he thought he had won this battle.