“Before you ask,” she said as they entered the elevator, “I don’t know where Michael is.”
“You’re presuming we’re trying to find him,” Kip replied.
She smiled dryly. “I’m presuming his mother is and she hired you.”
They exited on the third floor where she led them down to an apartment at the end of the hallway. It was nicely furnished, from what Kip could see of it, and well kept up. When they were seated, after refusing her offer of coffee, she expanded on her comment.
“Michael is a sweet young man, and very much in love with my daughter, Carla. She feels the same about him. Apparently his mother doesn’t approve. After all, Carla doesn’t attend a fancy high school, and I’m a divorcee. Not the quality of people she wants Michael to associate with.”
“Is your daughter here? I’d like to talk to her, too.”
Mrs. Morgan pressed her fingers together, looking over them at Kip, and smiled. “I’m afraid I don’t know where she is, either. I’m sure she’ll be in contact once she and Michael are married.”
Kip cast a look at John. “You called it right.” Returning his attention to Mrs. Morgan he said, “I would appreciate it if you would let me know when that happens. I’ll leave it up to him to let his parents know, but I’d like to reassure Mrs. Barnes that Michael is alive and well. In fact, I’d like to speak with him. I’ve tried calling him. He hasn’t answered.”
“Let me try.” Mrs. Morgan took out her phone. “Michael,” she said when the call was answered. “It’s Beth. There’s a man here who would like to talk to you. I think he wants to be certain you’re alive and…” She laughed. “Yeah, not kidnapped to work in a sex ring.” She handed the phone to Kip.
“Michael, my name is Kip Faulkner. Your mother hired me to find you.”
“Well, she can unhire you,” Michael replied angrily. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I don’t need her breathing down my neck anymore. Carla’s mom probably told you already that Carla and I are getting married, whether my mother approves or not.”
“Which she wouldn’t,” Kip heard a female voice say. He could envision the couple sitting on a sofa or a bed in a motel room, smiling lovingly at each other while Michael talked to him.
“If I may make a suggestion, Michael,” Kip said. “As soon as you’ve done the deed, let your mother know. I’m going to keep this to myself for the time being. I think it’s up to you to break the news. However, if you don’t, I’ll have to. When is the wedding?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Michael replied. “We’d have done it already but there’s all sorts of crap they put people through, first.”
Kip laughed. “That’s one way to put it. Tomorrow is Saturday. If you call her by Monday morning, I’m certain she’ll let me know. Otherwise…”
“Yeah. Got it. I’ll call as soon as we’re officially man and wife. Can I talk to Carla’s mom, please?”
When Kip gave Mrs. Morgan her phone, she got up, going into another room to talk. Kip figured she didn’t want him and John to hear what would be a very personal conversation with Michael and her daughter, all things considered.
When she returned to the living room, she was wiping a tear from her cheek. “I wanted to go out there, but Michael’s right. You might find out where they are if I did. Not that I don’t trust you now, but you are working for his mother.”
“I understand completely,” Kip replied. “I wouldn’t try to track your movements, but you can’t know that for sure. Give them my congratulations the next time you talk with them.”
“I will.”
She walked with him and John to the front door of the apartment. Then, out of the blue, she asked John, “Did that hurt?” pointing to his neck.
He smiled. “Let’s just say, once is enough, there. These weren’t so bad.” He rolled up his sleeves to show her the ones on his arms.
“They’re wonderful.”
Kip agreed with her. They were in shaded black and were as intricate in their details as the one on his neck. A bit bikerish, since one of them had a large skull, but very well done. He wondered if John had more, covered by his shirt and slacks. Not that he’d ask. That would be a bit like prying. Still, it could be intriguing to find out. He immediately shelved that thought in the interests of employee-employer relationships.
By the time they left the apartment it was almost five-thirty. As soon as they got to his car, Kip called Mrs. Barnes to tell her he’d been in contact with Michael. He let her know that her son was fine and had promised that he’d call her.
“He said he needed a break from school, but didn’t want to worry you, so when one of his friends suggested he come with him and his family to their cabin for a few days, he jumped on the chance.” When she demanded to know where it was, he replied, “He wouldn’t tell me, but I also talked with the friend’s mother. He’s there and as I said, he’s fine.”
“I can’t believe he’d be so inconsiderate,” Mrs. Barnes said angrily. “I’m his mother. He knows he can tell me his problems. I expect you find out where this cabin is so I can go bring him home”
“I’ll so my best,” Kip promised, rolling his eyes.
“You had better. It’s what I’m paying you for,” she said tartly before hanging up.
“That woman needs an attitude adjustment,” Kip muttered, getting a nod of agreement from John. At that point, Kip decided to call it a day and said as much to John.
* * * *
“Feel like stopping for a beer?” John asked.
After a moment’s consideration, Kip said, “Why not. Do you have someplace in mind?”
“Ever been to the Compound?” John tried not to laugh at Kip’s shocked expression, although he wondered if he’d suggested a place Kip wouldn’t go to in a million years.
“I went there a few times when I lived in Baker. It’s a fun bar. I’m surprised you know about it.”
John grinned. “I used to be a regular, during my bar-hopping days.”
“Really?” Kip eyed him speculatively. “I don’t remember seeing you there.”
“Guess you zigged when I zagged,” John replied. “You up for it?”
“Sure.”
Because it was a Friday night, even though relatively early, the place was already getting crowded. They quickly snagged a table then John went to the bar to get them beers. On the way back to where they were sitting, he saw Kip had company. A guy was standing next to him, his hand on Kip’s shoulder. John couldn’t tell if he was coming on to Kip, or just chatting with him.
Pasting a smile on his face, John joined them, setting Kip’s beer down. He lifted an eyebrow in question as he took the other seat.
“John, this is Bobby,” Kip said. “He lives in the neighborhood.”
“Which is more than I can say for you,” Bobby replied, squeezing Kip’s shoulder. “I miss seeing you in here.”
Feeling decidedly put out, though he knew he shouldn’t be, John said, “He’s moved up in the world. We’re only here—” he emphasized ‘We’re,’ “—because we were in the area and decided to stop for a beer.”
Bobby turned to John, started to say something, then his gaze landed on John’s neck. “Yeah. Umm, maybe I should get back to the bar before someone grabs my place. Good seeing you again, Kip.”
“You, too, Bobby.” Kip watched him hurry away. “Thanks for the save,” he said to John. “He’s nice enough but a bit touchy-feely.”
“That’ll get him in trouble if he does it to the wrong guy,” John muttered. He took a long pull on his beer. I’ve only known Kip for a couple of days. Why am I reacting like a jealous lover? He knew why, not that he liked the idea. He found Kip interesting—even more so now that he knew he was gay. Ease it down a notch or three, he cautioned himself. I don’t know anything about him. He could be a player, or not looking, or…
John set his bottle down. “Did you grow up here?” he asked.
Kip chuckled. “I presume you mean in Denver, not the bar.”
> “Well, yeah.”
Kip’s expression darkened. “I grew up on the other side of the Divide,” he replied, rolling his beer bottle in his hands.
“Why do I get the impression there’s more to that than what you said?”
Kip sighed. “Because there is? I left when I was sixteen. Home, that is. Things weren’t going so good. I lived on the streets for a while then took off to the mountains, figuring at least up there no one would hassle me.”
“Damn. How did you end up down here?”
“I met a man, a sheriff actually.” Kip smiled briefly. “No, he didn’t arrest me.” Again his expression darkened. “I was in a diner in Elderon, the town where he works. He figured out I wasn’t just a hiker passing through and got me talking a bit. Then he suggested it was time for me to get it together and do something with my life. When I think back on it, I figure he was the kind of guy I wish had been my father. Anyway, I decided he was right so I hitched a ride down here, got a job.” He grinned suddenly. “At another diner, working for a man who would have made a good father, too. Well, he was when it came down to it. He and his wife took me under their wings and here I am.”
“The proud owner of a damned good PI agency. Not bad considering how you started out.”
“What about you?” Kip asked. “You told me about your sister and what happened to her. Was that here?”
“No. I grew up back east. One of four kids and the family bad boy. Not really. I had a thing for bikes because my dad did. Still, they were sure I’d end up killing myself when I got my first one. When I didn’t, they accepted the fact I was never going to be ‘regular’ the way my brothers were, with cars and girlfriends.”
“They knew?”
“That I’m gay? Yeah. I never kept it a secret. They figured it wasn’t a choice and left it at that, as long as I didn’t flaunt it.”
“I wish,” Kip said so quietly John almost didn’t hear him over the noise and music.
“You’re folks didn’t know, or they didn’t accept it?”
“They hated it. It’s why I ran—among other things. I wasn’t the perfect son. It’s why I feel sorry for Michael. Okay, not sorry because he had the guts to stand up to his mother and do things his way.”
“So did you. Do they know you’ve made something of your life? A good something?”
“Nope. I left all that behind. I could be dead and they wouldn’t care,” Kip replied sadly.
John wanted to hug him. As a friend, nothing more. He didn’t, although he could have without raising any eyebrows, considering where they were. “Then they don’t deserve to know,” he stated emphatically. They’d finished their beers by then, so he asked Kip if he wanted another one.
“I don’t think so, thanks. I’m ready to call it a day.”
“At…” John checked the time. “Seven? The night’s hardly begun.”
“You can come back, once you pick up your bike.”
“Naw. I’m good. Let’s get out of here.” John laughed. “There’s a dozen guys eying our table and the empty bottles, ready to pounce if we don’t get another round.”
He was right. The moment they stood, heading toward the door, two men took their spot, smirking at another pair who flipped them off.
The drive back to the agency was done pretty much in silence. From the serious look on Kip’s face, John had the feeling he was reliving his life on the streets. A guess, but I bet I’m right. He keeps glancing down the alleys as we go past. Probably remembering when he used to hide in them to escape the sons-of-bitches who go after homeless kids. Or…He didn’t like his next thought, though he knew it was possible. Give blowjobs to make enough to buy something to eat.
When they got to the lot behind the agency, Kip said, “Thanks for letting me ramble.”
“No problem. I’ve got the feeling you don’t talk about it much. Sometimes it helps to get it out.”
“It does, I guess.” Kip shrugged. “I’ll see you Monday.”
“You bet. Mrs. Barnes will probably be waiting on the porch when I get here, ready to ream us a new one for not stopping Michael before he made—” John made finger quotes, “—the biggest mistake of his life.”
Kip laughed. “Probably.” He touched his forehead in a salute before going inside by the back door.
He’s a nice man. I could, if I let it happen, become very interested in him on a personal level. But I won’t. We’ll be friends, nothing more. With that thought, John started his bike and headed home.
Chapter 4
John had almost called it right. Mrs. Barnes showed up, ready for bear, but not until they had been open for half an hour. She marched up to Nina, saying, “I want to speak with Mr. Faulkner this minute.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s in a meeting.”
“Young woman…” Mrs. Barnes didn’t get to finish because Kip came into the waiting room.
He smiled, asking Mrs. Barnes to follow him to his office. The moment they were inside, she said, “I hired you find Michael and bring him home.”
“No. You only hired me to locate him. He’s an adult. What he chooses to do with his life in his business.”
“Marrying that slut! He called to tell me about it. You should have stopped him.”
“Please sit down,” Kip replied calmly.
“I want to know where he is. Where he really is, not the lie you told me on Friday,” she said, ignoring his request.
“I’m not at liberty to reveal that information.” Not that I could, since I don’t know and I’m not going to trace his phone to find out. He resisted smiling maliciously.
“I’m his mother!”
“And Carla is his wife. I met her mother. She’s a nice woman who lives in an upscale apartment complex and has provided well for her daughter. If you’d give her half a chance, I think you’d like her.”
Mrs. Barnes snorted. “I don’t make friends with women like her.” She sat, finally. “I want my money back. You did not fulfill the contract.”
“Actually, I did. I found out he was alive, and that he left home of his own free will. I’m sure when he returns he’ll get in contact with more than a phone call.” He looked dead at her. “Give him a chance. Don’t cut him out of your life. If you do, you’ll regret it.”
“Only if he gets rid of the slut.”
Kip stood, going to open the door. “Thank you for your business, Mrs. Barnes. Now, if you don’t mind, I have other things I need to take care of.”
“This isn’t the last of it. I’ll…I’ll give you bad recommendations to all my friends.”
“That’s your choice.” He nodded to the hallway. “Now, if you would.”
With a huff, she left. He heard the front door slam a moment later and shook his head. “Well, that wasn’t fun.”
“You expected it would be?” John asked from his office doorway.
“Nope,” Kip admitted. “Ah, well, we can’t make everyone happy, as much as we try. Right now, though, there’s a stakeout that needs doing.”
“Is that your subtle way of saying ‘John, guess what you get to do?’”
“I’m afraid so. One of our clients is the owner of a small insurance company. One of their policyholders, a Mr. King, rear-ended another car. Neither the company nor King is denying the accident happened. However, Mr. Pauley, the victim, is claiming he suffered a bad case of whiplash.”
“So we’ve been hired to prove he’s lying.”
“Or not. That’s yet to be determined. Pauley has a doctor’s report on his injuries. Mr. King claims he barely tapped Pauley’s car and that the victim must have paid the doctor to lie for him so he could collect the insurance.”
“Typical scam. Okay, I’m on it as soon as you tell me where I’m going.”
Kip did, and John took off. Kip left soon after to visit another client. The woman was certain someone had bugged her offices to learn her trade secrets. Kip had the equipment needed to discover if the woman was correct, and to debug the offices if that was the
case.
On his way across town, Kip’s thoughts went to the previous Friday evening and John—as they had several times over the weekend.
Did I reveal too much about my past? More to the point, did he believe me? I didn’t lie, except by omission. He’s a smart man. Did he pick up on that? He frowned briefly. What was with his reaction to Bobby? He seemed almost jealous, although I can’t see why he would be. It’s not like we’re more than friends, if that. Okay, I guess we are friends or working on it. You don’t go out for a drink with someone if you aren’t. He decided John’s reaction had more to do with tension release after his first full day of working for the agency. He was jumpy, wondering if he’d done anything I didn’t approve of, and took it out on Bobby. That has to be it. He hoped it was the case. I’m not going to get involved with him except as his employer and a friend. If I did, I might tell him about seeing Constantine murdered. Then he’d think I was a coward, or worse, for not telling Sheriff Long, or some other cop, what happened.
He would have pursued that line of thought if he hadn’t seen his client’s building half a block ahead. He parked, went inside, and talked with her before setting to work. In the end, he found out she’d been right about being bugged. He disabled all of them, then set up equipment to block any further attempts.
“I’ll send you a bill,” he told her when he was finished. “If you want, I can try to track down who’s responsible.”
“Oh, I know who it is,” she said angrily. “My ex. He was my business partner until I divorced him. This is his way of getting back at me.” She smiled spitefully. “Maybe I’ll hire you to bug his new business.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to get caught in the middle, even if he deserves it.”
She sighed, then smiled. “It was just an idea. Thank you for taking care of the problem. I hope he spent a small fortune on the bugs. It serves him right to lose them.”
Kip didn’t have the heart to tell her they were cheap ones her ex had probably picked up online. After telling her to call if she needed anything else in the future, he left.
* * * *
For the next month, it was business as usual at the agency. John was proving to be an excellent investigator, much to Kip’s relief. He also kept his inquisitiveness to a minimum the few times they went out for a beer after work. They tried a bar a few blocks away from the agency, finding it to their liking. As far as they could figure, most of the customers were locals who worked or lived in the area. If any of them thought there was more between him and John than merely being friends, they didn’t seem to care.
The Agency Page 4