Tea or Consequences

by KC Burn

  A little grumble in his tummy reminded him he’d slept through breakfast and skipped lunch.

  “Don’t worry.” Riley patted his stomach. “After the next episode, I’ll figure out if I’m cooking or ordering in.” Although who was he kidding? With the kitchen clean and plans to go out later, he was going to order in and then nap before he had to get dressed.

  He showered first, because he hated rushing after a nap, then pulled on an old pair of jeans before heaving the laundry basket on the coffee table, ready to start folding. He’d just queued up the next episode of Criminal Minds when someone knocked on his door.

  Who the hell could that be?

  Riley flung the door open, ready to berate whoever had snuck into the building to tell him he needed Jesus, only to freeze, mouth open.

  Tad was here? Why oh why did he never remember to use the stupid peephole?

  He stared down at himself, wearing a ratty pair of jeans and pretty much nothing else. This couldn’t possibly be how he was arrested, could it? Either way, he wasn’t sure he wanted Tad to see him like this.

  “Hello.”

  Tad held up a bulging plastic bag and gave him a killer smile designed to disarm. Which it did, if disarm also meant melt into a puddle on the floor. “I brought Chinese, if you aren’t doing anything for dinner.”

  So… not getting arrested, but what the ever-loving fuck was going on? He wanted to ask, and yet he was afraid asking would make the nice pretty man with dinner go away. Then again, how sustaining could a mirage truly be? Because this had all the earmarks of one.

  “Uh, no. I was just starting to think about what I was going to do.”

  Another killer smile, slaying Riley right there in his foyer. “Good.”

  “I am supposed to be meeting some friends later at a club.” Not that he expected Tad to be sticking around that long, but then again, he’d have bet his entire life savings against this little scenario occurring at all.

  “When?”

  “Ten.”

  “No problem. Plenty of time for dinner before that.”

  Riley stepped back, and Tad entered his condo. “The kitchen is on the left. Let me just grab a shirt and I can help dish things out.”

  “Don’t go to any extra effort on my account.”

  No, oh hell no. Although it sounded as though Tad wanted Riley to stay half-naked, he wouldn’t be able to relax at all knowing he didn’t have the same solid gym body Tad did. Riley had the benefit of natural lankiness and good metabolism, but he didn’t pay nearly enough attention to muscle building and toning. Certainly not enough to feel comfortable standing around in daylight in front of one of the hottest men ever to grace his condo.

  He grabbed the first T-shirt in the laundry basket and pulled it on. Then he tucked the laundry basket in a closet. He didn’t need his Andrew Christians on display either.

  Before long, plates were filled and they were sitting at Riley’s tiny kitchen table—which he never used for this purpose—ready to eat.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten at home and hadn’t sat in front of the television, but Tad simply assumed they’d eat at the table, and Riley wasn’t ready to dissuade him of that notion.

  “How’s work going?” Tad asked before deftly snagging a piece of orange beef with his chopsticks.

  “Not terrible. I haven’t been too busy, but I might be the only one.”

  Tad nodded and picked up a piece of sweet-and-sour chicken.

  “You’re pretty good with those.” Tad made him look clumsy and inefficient.

  “Yeah, spent a good chunk of my time in uniform in Chinatown. My first partner was Chinese and taught me how to use chopsticks. Then I got tons of practice.”

  “Well, you make it look easy. How are things with you?”

  Tad huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Been busy. Had some good breaks in a couple cases.”

  Riley took the time to really look at Tad. He definitely looked tired. There were shadows under his eyes, and he had stubble again. Busy wasn’t an exaggeration.

  “That’s good.” Did he dare ask? “What about Gabrielle’s death?” He couldn’t call it a murder, not yet.

  That got him another sigh.

  “Honestly, it’s not going well.” Tad leaned in. “You’ll keep this quiet, right?”

  “Of course.” And he would too, but he still didn’t understand why Tad would choose him, out of everyone, to reveal confidential information to about an ongoing case. He couldn’t tamp down the fear that this was all some elaborate form of entrapment, but he really didn’t want to believe Tad would do that. Mostly because he wanted Tad to think well of him, not think he was some creepy boss-hating murderer.

  “We’ve got basic cause of death, which is anaphylactic shock. Definitely penicillin. But we’ve tested everything we could looking for the source and can’t find any traces. The party complicates things because testing the trash from the party is prohibitively expensive and time-consuming.”

  “Wow. I never thought of it like that.”

  “Yeah, we’ve got a lot of technology working for us, but it’s not as quick or magical as it is on TV. Besides, the party gave a lot of people access to Gabrielle that they normally didn’t have over the course of a day. Even if we can find the source, that may not do anything to narrow down the suspect pool.”

  Riley blushed just a bit. He’d known, of course, that things couldn’t be as simple as television shows portrayed, but he hadn’t spent a lot of time applying critical thinking to it.

  “Who would even have penicillin? I mean, it’s not the sort of thing that’s popular with drug dealers, is it?”

  “Just about anything’s available for a price, but someone looking to score prescription meds is usually looking to get high or get hard. Requests for antibiotics are going to stick out. We’ve got someone tracking down that angle, but I’d be surprised if it panned out. More likely it’s as you were thinking—someone got prescribed penicillin and kept back one or two pills.”

  “Couldn’t you get medical records?”

  Tad snorted. “Not enough probable cause to go poking into people’s medical records. Even if I narrow down a request for the records of the people most likely to know about her allergy, that’s not enough, especially when we’re still trying to definitively state it’s murder and not death by misadventure. I need a motive. We’ve already got some information from HR about a couple of disgruntled former employees, and some financial records which we’re hoping will reveal some information, but that takes time. I’m inclined to believe most of the employees aren’t aware of her allergy—it’s not like a peanut or seafood allergy that could easily come up in situations like your launch party or at business lunches or whatever.”

  That made sense. Riley hadn’t known about the allergy, but he could have easily found out about it, because of his proximity. Gossip would be the most likely way for, say, a disgruntled lab tech or pissed-off security guard to find out, but who would gossip about a deadly allergy when Gabrielle and her boy toy Cody would make far more interesting fodder?

  “So you’re following the money, as they say.”

  That made Tad laugh, a happy belly laugh complete with crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Riley couldn’t help but smile at the sight, even though he knew Tad was likely laughing at him.

  “Sorry, sorry. They do say that, even though it’s not strictly applicable here. We know where the money’s going—it’s more a case of who wanted it bad enough to kill for it. And that’s assuming the coroner doesn’t rule her death accidental.”

  “Okay, so maybe you can explain something to me.” Or maybe he couldn’t—Riley didn’t know how much information Tad was inclined to divulge. Already it seemed like far too much.

  Tad gestured with a piece of broccoli. “If I can, sure.”

  Riley explained the incident between the three VPs at their inaugural meeting. “Did that have to do with the will?”

  Tad nodded. “Yeah, or the lac
k of one. As I understand it, their marriage invalidated her will. Since she didn’t have time to make a new one, Cody’s entitled to $200,000, plus a third of whatever’s leftover in the estate.”

  “What? No wonder François and Floriana were so pissed.” Riley didn’t even comment on the fact that for a lot of ordinary people, that initial payout would leave the kids with nothing.

  “Yeah. What’s even weirder is that because the company was still owned by Gabrielle—and actually makes up the bulk of her assets—he’s entitled to his share of that as well. Even without the employment contract, he’d be able to influence how the company was run. But with the contract assigning him as VP, he’s also got a voice at the table in decision making.”

  “Jeez.” Good for Cody, but Riley had a little more sympathy for the Gautiers. “That’s just wild. Floriana said they were going to go to court.”

  Tad snorted. “They might have some luck cutting Cody out of the business, but for the inheritance? Good fucking luck. This isn’t a case of contesting a will made with undue influence or an outright forgery. This is provincial law outlining what happens if there is no will, and the marriage invalidated any previous wills.”

  “What about proving the marriage false?”

  “Nope. Already confirmed it’s real. And although the Gautier kids claim their mother would never have left Cody anything if she’d lived long enough to make another will, Cody’s saying the opposite—that if Gabrielle had had enough time to make a will, the kids would be getting less than they are now.”

  “Holy shit, what a mess! I tell you, it’s not going to be a bed of roses trying to get anything done in that company with the three of them battling it out. I think they genuinely hate each other.”

  “Oh?” Tad’s ears perked up, and Riley rolled his eyes. Tad just wanted inside info. Riley should probably be upset by that, but he was enjoying Tad’s company too much—however foolish that might be.

  “What, you think that’s new information? I don’t think Cody hates them, actually. But he’s certainly not going to let them walk all over him.”

  “Sounds like you admire him.” Tad’s tone was neutral, and Riley didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to that.

  “I guess I do. It takes a lot of balls to stand up for himself with no one on his side. But if he killed Gabrielle to get there, then there would be nothing left to admire.”

  “Enough depressing talk. Tell me more about this club. Who are you going with?”

  If Tad had sounded anything other than interested and engaged, Riley would have changed the topic, but instead he talked a bit about Alisha and Shaun, which went on long enough for them to finish eating.

  Then Riley didn’t know what to do. He still had to get ready, but not for a couple of hours. He didn’t want to kick Tad out, but Tad’s agendas were wrapped in mystery and obfuscation. He could ask questions, but he wasn’t sure he’d like the answers, and so he again chose silence.

  What would he do if this were Shaun or Alisha? He had laundry to fold, but that was hardly urgent. He could easily put it off until tomorrow. The nap wasn’t necessary either.

  “If you want, we could watch a movie. I don’t have to get ready for a couple of hours yet.” Riley leaped up to start putting away the leftovers, afraid to look at Tad.

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  Riley glanced up and smiled. “Why don’t you go pick one while I finish up? Did you want some popcorn?”

  Tad patted his stomach. “Nah, I’m stuffed. And let me help.”

  Instead of following Riley’s suggestion, Tad helped tidy up from dinner, making him better than just about any date Riley had brought home before.

  RILEY SPENT the entire movie tense and unable to pay attention to anything besides the giant furnace sprawled beside him on the couch. Tad wasn’t exactly encroaching on his space—not like the thigh-rubbing incident at dinner—but Riley couldn’t relax for fear of relaxing too much. What if he accidentally snuggled? Between the spicy scent of Tad’s cologne and the sidelong—and hopefully unnoticed—glances where Riley wallowed in Tad’s strong profile, Riley had spent the past hour and a half trying to control his dick.

  But dammit, Tad smelled so fucking good, and Riley just wanted to pounce. It would be a tragedy of epic proportions if Riley never found out the taste of Tad’s skin. He’d already been consumed by his kiss and wanted to experience that again and again. This infatuation might even be worse than the fantasies he’d had in high school, because he had an adult’s dreams and an adult’s perception of exactly what kind of relationship he’d be missing out on. Although he’d offered a purely sexual relationship, he wanted more, but he couldn’t tell if Tad wanted anything at all from him.

  The long and short of it was that Tad was driving him right out of his mind.

  As the credits rolled, Riley could take it no longer. He twisted his knees up on the couch so he could face Tad easier.

  “Tad.” Riley cleared his throat. Not only had his voice sounded too seductive by far, but he’d almost slipped and called him Tadeo. Even knowing there could be nothing between them, Riley didn’t want Tad to remember him as he’d been. He’d spent too much money on highlights and blue contacts, spent too much time trying to distance himself from the bullied nerd he’d been in high school.

  Tad shifted to mimic Riley’s pose but left his head resting on the couch. His eyes were hooded and sleepy-looking, much like Riley imagined he’d look in bed, right after a good orgasm.

  Fuck. He had to stop thinking about that.

  “Yes, Riley?” Tad’s voice was also low and growly, and Riley wanted to offer himself up. But that would only end in pain—emotional if not physical. Or both.

  “Why are you…?” Here? That sounded awful. But he wasn’t sure how to articulate what he wanted to know without sounding like he didn’t enjoy Tad’s company.

  If Tad wanted to be friends—however far-fetched that was—Riley would metaphorically suck it up and resign himself to many a lonely release after spending time together. And yet a part of him couldn’t forget the kid he’d been, the kid Tad took no notice of. Whatever changes he’d made to his appearance, he wasn’t fundamentally different. There was no reason Tad would want to hang around him, especially if sex wasn’t on the table.

  “Why am I what?” Tad smiled gently, his voice still low, pupils dilated in the dim evening light.

  Riley blushed, thankful the growing dark would hide it. He’d just been staring at Tad like a besotted fool.

  “Why are you sharing all this information with me? I mean, it’s fascinating, getting this inside look at an investigation, but it seems….” Riley chewed on his lip as he searched for the right words.

  Tad lifted his head, but his languid pose didn’t change—he was a lot more flexible than his musculature would suggest.

  “Seems like what?” Tad prompted.

  Riley blushed harder. “Obviously I don’t know anything about police investigations besides what I see on TV.” His gaming group had once taken a break from D&D to run a generic campaign that revolved around crime solving, but there was no reason to believe that would be any more accurate than CSI. “But the stuff you’ve told me… I worry that you’re giving me this information to, I don’t know… set me up. Or make me slip up so I’ll confess. Aren’t I a suspect? I was the one who discovered the body.”

  Tad laughed—a full-on belly laugh complete with eye crinkles that made Riley smile in spite of himself. “Oh, Riley. First off, I haven’t told you absolutely everything. Most of it’s pretty dull, aside from being extremely confidential. You’re also the only one who had access to Gabrielle’s inner circle that I don’t suspect.”

  Riley almost wanted to preen, but he was still suspicious. “Why not?”

  “Easy. You didn’t have a motive, your story as a temp checks out, and your agency confirmed your presence at Gautier was more or less random—you were the first available for the position—and more tellingly, you had no idea about
Gabrielle’s allergy.”

  “I could have lied about that.”

  “Are you trying to convince me you’re the murderer?” The idea seemed to amuse Tad, and he chuckled some more. “Remember, I’m a detective. I can usually tell when people are lying to me, and you weren’t. You don’t strike me as a very good liar.”

  For a moment it looked like Tad was going to say more, but he closed his mouth and smirked at Riley.

  “I could lie if I had to.”

  “I’m sure you can.” Tad was clearly teasing, and Riley didn’t take offense. Silly thing to object to anyway.

  “That still doesn’t explain everything. I’m sure I’m not the only one around who couldn’t have done it.”

  Tad grew a little more serious. “True. But you’re also in the unique position to help me. You’ve got insight that I can’t easily get, and you might see or hear something that could give us a break.”

  Never before had he wished he were wrong. He’d known Tad had an ulterior motive. But Riley couldn’t be too upset. Not when it meant potentially aiding the police in catching Gabrielle’s murderer.

  “I never thought about it like that.” It was still weird that they’d spent far more time just hanging out than they’d spent discussing the case. Riley didn’t know if that was meant to put him at ease or if they’d end up being friends at the end of all this. Once Gabrielle’s killer had been caught, he could reevaluate. “Won’t you get in trouble for hanging out with me?”

  Tad shrugged. “You qualify as a confidential informant. It’s fine.”

  A confidential informant? That was fucking cool. A nice little consolation prize, since he wouldn’t be getting Tad.

  If Riley was going to help, he wanted to be more than a sounding board. He had questions. And a discussion of the case would let him drink in the cozy sight of Tad relaxing on his couch.

  “So have you been able to narrow down your suspects at all?”

  “Yes and no. The killer choosing the launch party to make his move was almost ingenious. According to your invite list, people from the lab were in attendance, and my understanding is that they rarely, if ever, have any contact with Gabrielle. On the other hand, that makes them less likely suspects. I’m concentrating my efforts on the people who would have had a reason to want Gabrielle dead and/or the people who could have known about her allergy.”