“Gabe is fine,” he reminded her as he crossed to the room, finding six boxes the same size as the one he was holding standing against one wall.
“This is half of it.” Laura waved vaguely toward the pile.
“Half?” he repeated, recalling the sheriff’s words about needing more than a few days. He could already feel a headache coming on. If only these records were all digital. He could have put in a few succinct search parameters and had half his profile done in a few short hours.
Laura sent him a faintly sympathetic look. “I’d offer to help, but I’m pretty sure reading all this could be classified as cruel and usual punishment.”
“Thanks,” he replied with a hint of amusement. “At least tell me you have better coffee here than what I drank at the diner.”
She grimaced, and it was all the answer he needed.
“Oh great,” he muttered. He generally didn’t like energy drinks, but faced with the stack of boxes and no decent coffee in the entire county, he was rethinking that opinion.
“I’ve got to get back to the front desk.” Laura made a hasty escape before he could say anything else.
He sighed and went over to set the box he was holding on the conference table. Usually he enjoyed a challenge, but this was next-level. He wouldn’t be taking the responsibility of this assignment lightly, however. Whatever his findings, it would determine whether the ALP got permanent FBI monitoring. It could mean the difference between life and death for people in the future if the group ever fully radicalized and moved on to violent or aggressive tactics to get their message across. He would dig and he’d be thorough about it. Meticulous and painstaking over every detail so he wouldn’t miss anything.
If the ALP was a danger, then nothing and no one would get in the way of him doing his job.
CHAPTER FOUR
MATT CLOSED his laptop and stretched before drinking the warm dregs of Coke in the bottom of the can he’d gotten from the vending machine over an hour ago. Most of Thomas’s social media profiles had been stupidly easy to hack into. His password had been the name of his cat, Mookies, when he was a kid. Mookies had an unfortunate run-in with a garbage truck and used all his nine lives in one go. Still, it’d only taken him a handful of guesses to come up with it, and then it’d turned out Tommy had oh-so-smartly used the same email address and password for every damned thing he’d ever signed up to in his life.
“Seriously, Tommy. Moron of the year,” he muttered to himself as he stood and rolled his shoulders to work out the kinks in his back from being hunched in front of his laptop for so many hours.
Before today, he might have felt bad about the complete invasion of his cousin’s privacy, but considering the way Thomas had left San Francisco without saying goodbye to his mother, then proceeded to ignore them all and completely cut himself off—not to mention the damned barbwire fence and freaking guns at that place he’d driven past today—as far as he was concerned, Thomas had lost any and all privileges. At this point, the little bastard deserved whatever Matt had to do to save him from his own stupidity.
The things he’d learned about his younger cousin in the past few hours had been eye-opening and disturbing. Thomas had been an angry teenager—Aunt Katie’s breakup with Tommy’s father hadn’t been pretty, ending in the guy taking off with another woman and trash-talking Katie at every opportunity. Since Matt’s dad had died when he was a baby, Aunt Katie and Thomas had moved in with him and his own mom, and they’d all lived together for three years before Matt had moved out when he’d gone to college. By then Thomas had been fourteen and the anger was only just starting to come out.
Sometimes he felt guilty about leaving, wondering if Thomas would have been such a handful for Aunt Katie and his mom if he’d stayed at home. But the things Thomas had gotten into over the past few years were disgusting. He’d known that Thomas’s dad was very religious, some kind of Evangelical. Seemed it’d rubbed off on Thomas when he’d spent weekends and school holidays with the man, because Thomas himself closely followed one of the most conservative, far-right televangelists in the country.
Did he really believe all this fire-and-brimstone, work-of-the-devil, white-supremacist’s bullshit? That being a straight, white, middle-class male gave him more rights than anyone else? The way Thomas talked about women and people of color online made Matt’s stomach turn. He’d even made comments about the LGBTQI+ community that left him feeling sick and realizing he had no clue who his cousin had become in the past few years. God, how could they have missed this? Or had Aunt Katie known but just turned a blind eye?
He was feeling even guiltier for being so wrapped up in his own life while he’d been getting the business off the ground. And truthfully, ten years ago, when he’d come out at seventeen to his family, Thomas had somewhat distanced himself… not that they’d been super close before that. His mom and Aunt Katie had been completely fine about it all—more than fine; Aunt Katie was always trying to set him up with “nice boys” she met. And anyway, Aunt Katie was like the nicest person he knew. Color, race, sexuality—heck, taste in music and fashion sense didn’t matter to her. Despite this, Thomas had clearly taken after his extremely religious father for some reason.
Matt sighed as he checked the time to see it was almost seven, leaving all his concerns about Thomas to drop away as his body immediately decided to go into a blind panic over the drink he’d agreed to get with Gabe.
Get a grip, Matt. Just drinks. It didn’t necessarily mean anything was going to happen. Just two guys, a few beers, and a casual chat. With a hot FBI analyst.
He’d briefly done some side research on what FBI analysts actually did—not only was Gabe hot and a badass for even joining the FBI and making it through their various training programs, being an analyst also meant he had to be super smart. There was every possibility Matt was way out of his league here, but he wasn’t letting himself think about that. Otherwise he might not answer the door when Gabe came looking for him.
He went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, debating whether to entirely change his outfit in the few minutes he had to spare. He didn’t want Gabe to think he’d gone to any trouble, like he thought this was an actual date or something. He put on a new white V-neck T-shirt and underwear, but slipped the same pink shirt and jeans over it so he looked exactly as he had all day, but hopefully smelled better and definitely felt fresher.
Just as he stepped out of the bathroom, a knock sounded on his door. He paused to take a breath and then crossed to open it. Gabe was waiting expectantly on the threshold. He wasn’t wearing the suit Matt had seen earlier, but had dressed down in a pair of slim-line worn-in cargo pants and an urban-fit tight cotton tee with a few small buttons at the top leaving the rounded neck open. Matt tried to pretend he wasn’t noticing the hint of dark chest hair where the material gaped slightly, snapping his gaze upward to Gabe’s face.
“Hey there,” Gabe greeted, rocking back on his heels a little, thumbs hooking into the pockets of his pants. “Ready to go?”
“Yep.” He started to step forward but then realized he didn’t have the key to his room. Nor his cell phone or wallet. His brain would probably also come in handy if he could work out where in his luggage he’d lost it. Hopefully he hadn’t left it in San Francisco, though at this point, he wouldn’t have been surprised. “Um, hang on.”
He left Gabe standing in the doorway and sidestepped to the table where he’d dumped his stuff earlier, quickly pocketing the few items he needed and then returning to make sure the lock was flipped on the inside.
“I thought we’d walk,” Gabe said as Matt soundly pulled the door closed and then double-checked it had locked. Growing up in a big city, some habits were completely ingrained in his psyche.
“It’s not far and that way we won’t have to worry about watching how much we drink,” Gabe continued as they stepped away from the rooms.
“Planning on getting me drunk?” It slipped out, something he would have teased Sammie with. Exce
pt then he was cursing himself for how stupid that probably sounded.
Gabe, however, gave a light laugh and a considering look. “Maybe I should be worried about you getting me drunk. It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch.”
“Oh yeah?” He relaxed a fraction since Gabe so far didn’t seem to think he was a complete loser.
Gabe leaned in closer as they walked, their shoulders brushing. “I’ve found the quiet ones tend to be more devious.”
His stomach flipped over, and he had to glance away from the gleam in Gabe’s dark eyes. Oh heck. He really was out of his league here. Gabe was so smooth and charming, it should have been illegal. It should have been ridiculous. Any other guys he’d ever met who tried lines like that—he and Sammie had seen their share of them come through their shop or the occasions they hit the clubs—he simply would have laughed his ass off and wondered if that rubbish ever really worked. It sure as hell worked for Gabe; somehow the guy came across as genuinely charming, not smarmy in the least.
“So, have you eaten?” Gabe asked, putting a little distance between them and leaving Matt able to breathe easier.
“Does a can of Coke and a packet of pretzels count?”
“Probably more than the sad excuse for coffee I tried to drink. There’s a good chance it was actually someone’s leftover dishwater, though.”
He grimaced at the idea he wasn’t going to get a decent coffee until he got home.
“What is it?” Gabe asked with a short laugh.
“Coffee. Not sure how long I can live without it.”
“Yeah, I bet you get a good brew in San Fran.”
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Helps that I’m joint owner of a coffeehouse and bakery. I can pretty much mainline it all day.”
Gabe’s interest sparked. “You own a business?”
“Sure do. Going on three years now. It’s in this great little corner shop in South Market. We’re the only entirely gluten-free bakery within a thirty-mile radius.”
Gabe arched an eyebrow. “Let me get this summarized. You’re a gay man living in South Market who owns a gluten-free bakery. And the coffee side, what’s your specialty?”
He felt his cheeks getting warm as he realized where Gabe was possibly going with this.
“We only serve organic free-trade beans. In reusable or 100 percent recycled cups.”
Gabe gave a low, charmed laugh. “You’re like a walking millennial cliché, you know that, right?”
“Actually, I didn’t until right this second,” he muttered in return. It was pretty funny when he thought about it, however.
“Never mind.” Gabe nudged his elbow into his arm. “I think it’s cute. I’ll have to make a trip to San Francisco so I can try your gluten-free baked goods and organic free-trade guiltless coffee.”
“No one is allowed through the door of our shop unless they can prove they have a neutral carbon footprint.” He managed to keep a completely straight face as he said the words.
“Oh snap,” Gabe returned in an exaggerated campy-voice.
“Now who’s the cliché?” he tossed back as they reached the center of town and the bar came into view.
The premises didn’t look like much with its worn-brick and weathered-wood-clad exterior, long narrow porch, beer neons in the windows, and pickup trucks parked as far as the eye could see. It was everything he expected of a small-town bar in Texas. If he’d walked past somewhere like this in San Francisco, he would have crossed the street just to avoid even going directly by the doors.
“Oh, by the way,” Gabe said as they crossed the town square. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked one of the deputies I met today to meet me here tonight as well. His name is Jake.”
“No problem.” His answer was quick and almost automatic as several feelings collided inside him, leaving a knot in his stomach. Mostly confusion, a hint of jealousy, and a dash of disappointment. Perhaps he’d completely misread Gabe’s invitation. Maybe it was more a two-strangers-in-a-small-town thing that’d motivated the analyst to ask him for a drink. Maybe all the flirting was just the way Gabe interacted with people and it hadn’t meant anything after all.
He pushed the feelings down and tried not to let it matter. He was here now, and it was probably better than sitting alone in his motel room. Besides, he might have agreed to come, but that didn’t mean he had to stay. He could have a few beers and something to eat, then head back to his room and leave Gabe to his deputy. And if he was feeling disappointed, then it was stupid, because, really, a chance meeting and flat tire didn’t exactly make for anything of substance.
When they reached the bar, Gabe held the door and let him go in first. The interior had a rustic-Texas charm to it, the crowd a mix of ages. It was busy but not packed, and the smell of steak, burgers, and beer left his mouth watering.
“Oh, there he is.” Gabe waved, and a guy sitting at the bar returned the gesture. He was tall and leanly muscled with thick brown hair and hazel eyes—everything Matt very definitely wasn’t.
“You go see him. I’m going to grab a table and order some food.”
Gabe spared him a quick glance. “You sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” He sent Gabe a smile, hoping it didn’t look strained.
“Great. Order me a burger and a longneck. I’ll be over in a few.”
Gabe didn’t wait for him to answer but wove through the crowd toward the bar.
Matt huffed a quiet sigh and turned to search out an empty table.
He ignored the few looks he swore he was getting as he aimed for a table—maybe it was just that he was clearly a stranger in a small town and nothing more. He really didn’t want to think about what the more could be if any of them had a problem with him.
He ordered himself the same thing as Gabe and soon found himself feeling awkward sitting at the table alone. He stole a glance at Gabe, who was clearly enjoying his chat with Jake. The two of them looked like they were deep in conversation. Maybe Gabe already knew the guy. Like through work or they were friends or—
Matt cut off the thoughts before he started spiraling. He’d never been comfortable in social situations the same way other people seemed to be, especially when he was alone in a crowd. Honestly, he preferred a quiet night alone a lot of the time; he was definitely an introvert. When he was out in public, however, he preferred to have a familiar crutch, someone like Sammie who always knew when he was ready to leave a place even before he realized it himself. What he seriously did not enjoy was sitting at a table alone in a strange town and trying not to think people might be looking at him and wondering why he was by himself like a loser.
He fished out his phone to keep himself busy before he worked himself into an anxious mess and got up to leave when his meal hadn’t even arrived. Right now, hunger was luckily winning out. He sent a stealth Snapchat of the interior of the bar to Sammie with a sarcastic comment about “living the Texas life.” The return snap showed Sammie still at work with Krissy and two of their other employees. The shop would be closed by now, but sometimes they hung out after hours. He exchanged a few more snaps, their comments getting hilariously snarkier each time, until the food turned up.
Gabe appeared like magic and dropped into the seat across from him as the waitress set the plates down.
“Sorry about that.” Gabe shot him a smile and then took a quick swallow from his beer. “I work the kind of job that pretty much kills your social life.”
“So that was a work thing?” he asked, not sure if the question came out sounding as casual as he meant it to.
“Yeah.” Gabe picked up the hot sauce from the middle of the table and added it to his burger, then messily spread it over the fries on the side. “Like I said, Jake is a deputy. The assignment I’m working on at the moment, I need the cooperation and assistance of the sheriff’s department. Just had to pick his brain on a few things.”
Gabe picked up his burger and sent him a wink. “His boyfriend, Danny, is working behind the bar, and I
swear he was giving me the stink eye the entire time we were talking.”
Matt gave a quick laugh, relaxing because somehow Gabe made things so easy and fun with seemingly no effort at all. “Were you talking, or were you flirting?”
Gabe made an expression of mock-indignation. “What are you insinuating?”
“If the shoe fits….” He shrugged a little.
Gabe snorted in amusement. “Fine. I might have been flirting just a bit. But you saw him, right?”
Matt shook his head as he picked up his own burger. “Why do I suddenly get the feeling you’re trouble?”
“Me?” Gabe said archly. “Who was it that had a flat tire in the middle of nowhere this morning?”
“That was one minor instance of bad luck. I can assure you, the last thing I go looking for is trouble. I’m the boring, responsible one.”
He felt his cheeks getting warm after he said the words. Great, way to sell yourself, Matt. Did he want to scare Gabe off? Who wanted boring and responsible unless they were a middle-aged accountant? Certainly not hot, badass FBI analysts.
Except Gabe was studying him with a small smile playing over his lips, gaze speculative and not looking like he planned on going anywhere anytime soon.
“Well, maybe you just need the right person to pull you out of your comfort zone.” Gabe’s voice was a low murmur that promised all kinds of things Matt couldn’t even imagine.
He didn’t say anything, not that Gabe seemed to expect an answer as they both tucked into their food.
Matt generally wasn’t a risk-taker unless he had a safety net. Sammie had been his safety net for many years now, albeit a completely platonic one. It was why he’d been able to go into business without worrying himself to death, because he knew he had Sammie right there with him every step of the way. And over the course of their friendship, Sammie had talked him into doing things he never would have done on his own. Some of them he probably wouldn’t have even thought of.
But as he surreptitiously stole another glance at Gabe, who had his attention fixed on the big-screen TV on the far wall showing some kind of football game, he wondered what it’d be like to have a safety net like Gabe. Maybe it was what he needed. Maybe it was what he’d wanted all this time and hadn’t even realized. A brash, confident, sexy safety net leading him into all kinds of delicious trouble.
Locked Down Page 4