Open House

by Mickie B. Ashling

  After about five minutes, Jack got on the phone.

  “This is Detective Jack Lawrence. How can I help?” he asked, sounding very official.

  “Jack, it’s Seth.”

  “Hey, how’s it going?”

  “Okay. Bryce and I were wondering if you had any news on Owen.”

  “Nothing yet. We’ve canvassed most of the hotels and motels in the greater downtown area and come up blank. Now we’re starting in the ’burbs.”

  “Don’t you think he’s on his way back to Connecticut?”

  “Let him try. We’ve put the word out to bus and train stations, in case he goes that route, as well as car rental places and airports. The Hartford PD have his house covered.”

  “No sightings?” Seth asked in disbelief. “How does shit like this happen?”

  “We’ll catch up with him eventually. You just need to be patient.”

  “It’s not impatience, more like jumpiness. I keep looking over my shoulder, thinking he’ll be back to try something stupid.”

  “Doubtful,” Jack said. “He’s going to face some serious charges once he’s caught, and hanging around is probably the last thing on his mind. He’s probably hitching a ride to Canada by now.”

  “That’s great. Can we arrest him if he leaves the country?”

  “Depends on where he goes,” Jack said. “Some countries have extradition treaties with us, and others don’t. Mexico and Canada do if we promise not to impose the death penalty. Since Owen’s crimes don’t warrant a death sentence, it won’t be an issue. I would try and relax, Seth. We’ve got a surveillance team in place for you and Bryce so you’re safe.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until we catch the motherfucker.”

  “Good to know,” Seth muttered. “Listen, I’ll let you go, and I’ll have Bryce call later on this evening to get another update.”

  “Sure thing,” Jack replied.

  Chapter 23

  IT WAS an easy walk to Nordstrom, but they decided on a cab to stay on schedule. They had a lot to accomplish in a few hours and didn’t have the luxury of fooling around in the dressing room, size notwithstanding. Bryce’s assistant confirmed the arrival of both mold reports, and familiar with lawyers and their insistence on originals, they included a stop at Bryce’s office on their way to the four o’clock meeting with Osler.

  He’d called Lil from the apartment to give him an update on the projected cleanup, receiving an invitation to spend Sunday in Barrington for another home-cooked meal and the uninterrupted chance to put their heads together to come up with concrete plans for the remodel. After checking with Seth, they agreed to drive out there around eleven.

  Everyone was familiar with construction, and blueprints had to be stamped and okayed before they could buy a single nail. The final project hinged on estimates, permits, clearances from the city, the building association, and the insurance company. A drawn-out nightmare involving multiple people. Fortunately, Bryce had been in the business a long time, as had Lil, and they knew how to get the quickest results.

  Seth remembered to call Laurie to cancel lunch, and he recounted yesterday’s dramatic events as the cab drove up Michigan Avenue toward Nordstrom.

  “You could have been killed,” she exclaimed, sounding terribly upset.

  “I know,” Seth agreed. “But they rescued me in time.”

  “Too bad the jerk got away,” Laurie said. “I’m sure no one’s happy about that.”

  “No shit,” Seth agreed. “We’re staying at the Sofitel hotel while they’re cleaning up the apartment.”

  “Is the damage that bad?” Laurie asked.

  “It’s pretty grim. The master bedroom is ruined, as is the walk-in closet. Looks like we’ll be sleeping in the guest room for a while.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Better than the morgue,” he reminded her.

  “Oh my God, Seth. That’s too awful to contemplate.”

  “It could have gone either way, Laurie. I’m lucky to be alive.”

  “You’re right,” Laurie commiserated. “Are you sure you want to cancel lunch? It sounds like you could use a shoulder to cry on.”

  “No, I’m fine, really. I have to cancel because of clothes, or the lack thereof, and there’s a time crunch. Today is impossible, but I’ll gladly take a rain check. Bryce wants to meet you as well.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. Shall I call you next week?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is your office intact?”

  “Don’t worry,” Seth said. “My laptop is tucked away in the hotel safe, and I’m backed up on the cloud. Nothing has been lost.”

  “Thank goodness,” she said. “Naturally, my first concern is for your well-being, but trying to retrieve a manuscript from a toasted laptop is a bit tricky.”

  “Not a problem,” Seth said. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Take care, Seth. Call if you need anything.”

  “Will do.”

  Bryce didn’t let go of Seth’s hand until they got to the men’s department, and he couldn’t help smiling when he saw the look of anticipation on Seth’s face.

  “Haven’t you ever shopped here?”

  “A few times, but I was always on a tight budget,” Seth explained. “This will be the first time I can buy anything without worrying about price.”

  Bryce shook his head, silently cursing Mark for being such a control freak. “We’re going to have to power shop, babe, so we stay on schedule. I was hoping to peel off your clothes myself, but we’ll have to wait until another time.”

  “I understand.” Seth leaned in to kiss Bryce’s cheek. “There’s always tonight.”

  “So… I was thinking. Let’s get seven of everything. Jeans, shirts, socks, underwear. Just keep filling up your bag, and we’ll meet at the checkout counter in about forty minutes.”

  “You don’t want to try anything on?” Seth asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “I know my size.”

  “I do too,” Seth explained, “but sometimes a shirt looks better on the mannequin than on me.”

  “No time, babe. Sorry. We’ll keep all our receipts, and you can exchange anything you want tomorrow.”

  “Well, this will be another first,” Seth said, taking a deep breath. “Ready?”

  Bryce kissed him on the lips, and they separated. Methodically, Bryce started with underwear, throwing items into his bag without pausing to think. He was mostly shopping by brand, confident that the tried and true would serve him better than something he’d never worn before. He stumbled a little when he got to the shirt department, not because he was indecisive, but the Bryce of old was drawn to flashier, body-hugging-type shirts to show off his physique when he went trolling. Those days were long gone. He still wanted to look attractive for Seth, but he wasn’t advertising anymore. Same went with his pants. There was no need to buy skintight jeans so his ass and package were on full display.

  With that in mind, he put together outfits that were a little less slutty and a lot more stylish. He was in love with a classy guy and wanted Seth to be proud of him when they were out in public. It was possible to look fashionable and age appropriate without succumbing to dreaded geezer attire that made him think of his father.

  When they met up at the checkout counter forty minutes later, Seth had exchanged his sweatpants and old T-shirt for a pair of form-fitting Diesel jeans, classic Ferragamo moccasins, and a black button-down shirt. His blond hair gleamed under the track lighting, and he looked so hot Bryce was tempted to drag him into one of the dressing rooms and blow him.

  “You look fantastic,” Bryce said, when he got closer. “Black suits you.”

  “Yeah?” Seth said, flushing happily. “This was so much fun.”

  “We’ll do it again when we’re not pressed for time.”

  “I’ve got everything I need,” Seth protested.

  “No, you don’t. This is only half of our wardrobe.”

  “True, but it’ll get me by.”


  “My homeowner’s policy stipulates full replacement, babe. We haven’t even started on our suits and winter gear.”

  “Wow, this could get expensive,” Seth said, nodding. “I didn’t look at prices, just like you said, but I know what things cost. Is your credit card going to handle today’s charges?”

  “Stop worrying about money,” Bryce scolded. “We’re good.”

  Bryce watched Seth keep an eye on the salesclerk as she removed price tags, and little by little, his facial expression changed as each item scanned into the register. His soft brown eyes rounded in horror when he saw the final figures.

  “Stop fretting,” Bryce whispered, reaching for Seth’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze. “We deserve it.”

  “Holy hell,” Seth replied in a strangled voice. “My next book better be a bestseller.”

  “Shush.” Bryce handed the salesclerk his credit card and signed the slip with flourish. Turning to Seth, he asked, “Ready to go?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  They took a cab back to the hotel and left their shopping bags with the concierge who promised to deliver everything to their room. There wasn’t enough time to have a sit-down lunch, but stopping for takeout on their way to Bryce’s office was a definite option. Fortunately, they’d had a hearty breakfast, so sandwiches would tide them over until they were done with Osler and could have a leisurely dinner back at the hotel. Bryce felt like he was running a marathon, glancing at his watch every so often to make sure they were on time. So far, they had accomplished all their errands, and he felt quite productive.

  “Subway okay with you?” Bryce asked as they began the drive to his office.

  “Sure.”

  Navigating the streets with ease, Bryce instructed Siri to call, and he placed the order for two Italian-style footlongs and two Diet Cokes.

  “Do you want chips?” the person on the other end asked.

  “Salt and vinegar for me,” Seth said.

  “And a bag of Fritos for me,” Bryce added.

  He double-parked and pushed a twenty into Seth’s hand. “You can pay me back another time,” he said as soon as he saw Seth gearing up to protest.

  “My IOU is a mile long,” Seth complained.

  “You don’t owe me jack,” Bryce said.

  “I’m keeping a list in my head, so I can pay you back when my ship comes in.”

  “Go, before I get a ticket.”

  Seth’s face soured, but he got out of the truck and was back shortly. Bryce put the truck in gear and headed for his office.

  His assistant, Angie, looked surprised when he introduced Seth as his boyfriend. She gave him such a startled look he laughed out loud.

  “Should I be expecting a wedding invitation soon?” Angie asked incredulously.

  “You never know,” Bryce replied, winking playfully. “Stay tuned.”

  “We heard about your apartment,” she continued. “Do they know who was responsible?”

  Bryce nodded. “The asshole that forced his way in here yesterday morning.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Angie commented. “He was totally creepy.”

  Bryce snorted. “Please make several copies of the mold reports, because I’m taking the originals to the lawyer’s office.”

  “It’s done and ready to go.”

  Bryce nodded approvingly. “This is why you always get a nice Christmas bonus.”

  Angie beamed. “Thanks, boss.”

  DOUG OSLER was understandably disturbed when Seth, once again, recounted the sequence of events that ended with the home invasion.

  “My God,” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t you inform me as soon as you got the first threat?”

  “We should have,” Seth admitted, looking apologetic. “But we thought we could handle it on our own, plus we were waiting for the toxicity reports to make sure we had a legitimate claim.”

  “You’ve brought me the originals?” Osler asked.

  Bryce slid the envelope over, and Osler took out both reports, put on his glasses, and began to read them painstakingly.

  When he finished, the glasses were set back on the desk and he steepled his fingers and pronounced, “This is a cut-and-dried case. I don’t see how they can disprove the medical examiner’s conclusion that Mark’s faculties were impaired with toxic black mold levels this high.”

  “Owen did threaten to doctor his own figures if we didn’t give him a percentage.”

  “You mentioned a recording?”

  Bryce took his phone out and replayed the conversation. Osler grimaced in distaste when he listened to Owen propositioning Bryce.

  “How dare they send an investigator with the morals of an alley cat?”

  “You’re being kind,” Bryce said. “Owen Lightfoot is a desperate and ruthless individual, as he’s already proven. Is there any way Seth can sue them for not vetting their investigator?”

  Osler nodded. “Good thought, but I’d prefer to tackle one thing at a time. Let’s make sure Seth’s benefits have been approved first. I’d like to call the insurance company directly and speak to one of the executives. They need to hear this firsthand.”

  “We were hoping you’d do that,” Seth said. “At this point, we don’t know if Owen’s sent in his report and if he’s doctored it to suit his needs.”

  “It won’t matter since we have two legitimate reports of our own. They can’t very well accuse us of tampering with these results. Both mold remediation companies are reputable and have been in business for years.”

  “Agreed,” Bryce said. “They’re legit.”

  “What’s the status on your residence?” Osler asked Bryce. “Are you able to sleep there?”

  “Not for a few days,” Bryce replied. He gave Osler a brief rundown on the devastating aftereffects and the steps they needed to take to make the apartment inhabitable.

  “It’s too bad the Lincoln Park house isn’t safe either,” Osler mused. “You could have stayed there until Bryce’s apartment was ready.”

  Seth shook his head. “No, I would have never considered it.”

  “Do you give me permission to call Hartford and get this going?” Osler asked.

  “Please do,” Seth said. “Will I need to be present?”

  “No,” Osler said. “If they want to speak to you for any reason, they can damn well set up an appointment.”

  “Thank you,” Seth said. “We appreciate your help.”

  “No need for thanks,” Osler intoned. “Just pay my bill within thirty days of receipt.”

  Seth grinned. “Yes, sir.”

  Bryce stuck out his hand before leaving, and Osler shook it, surprising them with an unexpected apology. “I don’t readily admit my mistakes, but in your case, I’m happy to do so. I was wrong in assuming Seth had moved on too soon. He’s in excellent hands, and I’m glad you’re around to watch his back. He’s been through a lot.”

  “Thank you,” Bryce said, turning to Seth. “He means the world to me.”

  On their way back to the hotel, Bryce commented, “I’m optimistic about his meeting with the insurance muckety-mucks.”

  “So am I,” Seth said. “Can we put this very long and busy day behind us and focus on something fun and inappropriate?”

  “Does it have anything to do with lace by any chance?”

  “I made a pit stop at the lingerie department at Nordstrom.”

  Bryce turned to Seth in shock. “You didn’t.”

  “I did,” he said, flushing. “Expeditious shopping just like you ordered. Zipped in and out; I hope I got the right size.”

  Sparing him another quick glance, Bryce asked, “What did you buy?”

  “A fishnet teddy.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Uh-huh,” Seth said.

  “Sounds hot.”

  Amused, Seth asked, “Do you even know what it is?”

  “Don’t care so long as it’s see-through.”

  “Very much so.”

  “Then we’re golden, babe.”
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  Chapter 24

  BRYCE’S PHONE buzzed while they were unloading their Nordstrom shopping bags. Seth would have liked to throw the boxers and underwear into a washing machine first, but since that wasn’t an option at the hotel and they came right out of tightly sealed packages, he convinced himself to stop being fastidious. They’d already spent more than enough today, and adding a whopping laundry bill—because nothing came cheap at this hotel—to the sum total was unnecessary.

  Adam was on the phone, and Bryce put him on speaker so Seth could participate in the call. The bad news was Owen hadn’t been located yet. The police didn’t want a repeat of yesterday’s drama, and they were determined to keep Seth and Bryce safe. Two surveillance teams were in place, one in front of the hotel and another in back. They would stay as long as Owen remained at large.

  Bryce let them know that Doug Osler received both of the original toxic mold reports and had listened to the damaging recording. Armed with proof, the attorney was reasonably certain the people in Hartford would settle in Seth’s favor. More importantly, they would do it sooner rather than later to avoid a possible lawsuit. It wouldn’t take their legal team very long to figure out they were in a vulnerable position due to their inspector’s criminal behavior. In that sense, things were looking good, and the cops were happy they avoided a flight to Connecticut to back up Bryce’s story. Osler would handle all of it from his office in the Loop.

  “Keep us posted,” Adam advised. “Especially if you decide to move back to your apartment. I won’t stop worrying until that bastard is behind bars.”

  “You and me, bro.”

  “How’s Seth doing?”

  “I’m fine, Adam,” Seth said from his side of the room. He was busy removing pins and labels from their new clothes, wondering again if perhaps they should cave and, at the very least, get them pressed. They might be clean, but they were wrinkled and looked like they’d been slept in. The pants would probably straighten when hung, but the shirts definitely needed attention.

  “No aftereffects?” Adam asked.