by Tinnean
“I should have known you’d have your own way with cats. She’s a beauty! And don’t tell Miss Su I said that! What kind is she?” She was a pretty large, longhaired cat, with a long, fluffy tail.
He rolled his eyes but said, “The vet said she’s a Maine coon.”
Like I knew that breed from any other… except the American Bobtail, which was what Miss Su was. “Do you have a carrier?”
“Yeah. It’s in my closet.” He went to get it, and I crouched down to make friends with the gray tabby. Vince stopped and turned back. “Look, is there going to be a problem with your cat?”
“Miss Su? Nah, she’s a sweetheart. I’ll introduce them gradually, but if they don’t get along, would it be all right if I asked the ladies downstairs to mind Pita?”
“That’ll be fine. She has to get used to women.” Had he muttered, “Who won’t run out on her”?
“Vince?”
He shook his head. “Her food’s in the pantry as well, and she has toys scattered throughout the condo. Take whatever you think you’ll need. I’ll go get her bed and the carrier.”
WITHIN TEN minutes the backseat of the Corvair was piled high with everything Pita would need.
“Um… brush?”
“What?”
“She’s gonna need a brush to keep her coat in good shape.”
“Shit.”
I patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick one up. Uh… how long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“As long as it takes,” he said in a cold voice, reminding me this wasn’t a business trip, it was personal, and he wouldn’t be back until Spike was home.
“If we forgot anything, I’ll buy it.”
“Thanks.” He ran his finger against the mesh at the front of the carrier, and Pita rubbed her cheek against it. “I won’t be gone long, cat. Be a good girl and don’t make me look like a bad dad.”
“Uh….” I felt my face heat up. “Wills and I are talking about starting a family once we’re married.”
“Yeah?”
“The thing is… do you think I’ll be a good dad?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“Well… the only thing my own father ever taught me was how to throw out a son who was gay.”
“Jesus, Theo! What do you think you were to all the boys who were in your family?”
“Huh? I only have a sister.”
He gave me one of those looks that said he was within an inch of smacking the back of my head, but I had no clue what he was talking about. “All the rent boys you looked out for over the years?”
“They were part of our stable.”
“They were your family. You did good by them, and you’ll do great by any kid you have. What does Matheson have to say about it?”
“Um… pretty much what you said, except about the boys. He… uh… he doesn’t really know about those years.”
“He doesn’t? He struck me as more clued-in than that.”
“Ass.” I poked his shoulder. “Of course he knows what I did, but I never really talked about Bud and Mick or Paul and Spike or Tangerine or the Kid or even Connor.”
“Well, that’s your call, but Matheson obviously has confidence in you.”
“But—”
“Look, Theo, this hypothetical child isn’t in your lives yet. Worry about it then. I’ve got to get going or I’ll miss my flight.”
“Okay, Vince. Keep me posted, okay?”
“You bet. Bye, Pita.” He stepped back, and I got into the Corvair and rolled down the window.
“I always knew you were a big softie!”
“Excuse me?”
It was a good thing the exit gate was on sensor and would open as soon as I approached it. I grinned and drove off while the getting was good.
MY CELL phone rang at 10:30 p.m., “That’s What Friends Are For,” and I grabbed it up. “Paul! How’s Spike?”
“Oh, God, babe, I don’t know! I haven’t seen him since eight yesterday morning.” And now it was almost thirty-six hours later. “I tried and tried calling him, and it goes right to voice mail, and none of his friends have seen him, and no one at work knows any—” His voice cracked. “—anything.”
I knew why he was so upset, beyond the fact he loved Spike. One of our boys had gone out one night and hadn’t come home. Less than a week later his body had been found in Fort Washington, and what had been done to him before he died….
“Is Vince there?”
“Yes. His flight got in about an hour ago. He made some phone calls, and now he’s making dinner. But, Theo, how can I eat….”
“You have to, for Spike.”
“What if he doesn’t come home?”
“He’ll be home, Paul,” Vince called. “And as soon as I get some food into you, I’m going to see someone.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Jesus. Okay, but you have to eat. Tell Theo good-bye and you’ll call as soon as we know what’s going on.”
“Theo—”
“I heard him, babe. Go. Just remember to call me.”
“Theo!” Vince called again. “How’s the cat?”
“Huh?” Paul sounded confused. “Why’s Vince asking about Miss Su? Is something wrong with her too?”
“She’s fine, Paul. Vince has a cat. Didn’t he tell you?”
“No.”
“Well, he does. Tell him she’s fine. Miss Su made sure Pita knew who the boss was, and things have been copacetic since then.”
“I’ve got to be the only…. Jesus, my cat’s a submissive.” I could picture Vince shaking his head. “Say good-bye, Paul.”
“Good-bye, Paul,” he parroted, and I heard the slight smile in his voice. Thank God for Vince. “I promise I’ll call as soon as… I’ll call.”
“Okay. I love you, babe.”
“What?”
“I said—”
“You never say that!”
“I do now.”
“Awesome! Theo? I love you too.”
“Dinner’s getting cold!”
I said good-bye, hung up, and checked the clock. Wills should be coming home soon. And then I felt guilty, because he’d be coming home, but who knew when Spike would be back?
ABOUT TEN minutes later, my cell phone rang again, but since it played the sultry notes of “Temptation,” I knew it was Wills calling.
“Hey, babe. Should I start getting supper ready?”
“I’m sorry… this is going to be another one of those nights. I have to work late.”
“Vince said you had a nap.”
“Yeah, I caught some Zs this afternoon, and I’ll probably crash here later tonight, but—”
“What about supper?”
“I’ll have to miss it.” He sighed, and I could picture him running a hand through his hair, leaving it with that disheveled look that always made my fingers twitch with the urge to run through it and smooth it down. “I heard about Spike. I wish there was something I could do, but Mr. Vincent will take care of it.”
“I… I know.” And I loved that he cared enough about Spike to want to help, even though he didn’t know our littlest boy. “Wills, how about if I bring supper to you? I made stew.”
“Do you mind?”
“Of course not! I’ll pack up the Crock-Pot and drive on over.”
“Sounds good, babe.”
“Is Ms. DiNois there? Should I bring extra plates and silverware?”
“Yeah, would you? Winchester is here too.”
“Who? Never mind, let me get myself together, and I’ll see you in about half an hour. Oh, we have a guest staying.”
“Shit. Maybe it’s not such a good idea that you leave them alone in the house.” He lowered his voice. “I left my handgun in the closet.”
“That’s okay. She won’t touch it.” I couldn’t help laughing. “It’s Vince’s cat.”
“Mr. Vincent has a cat? And she’s staying with us? Yeah, that makes sense if he’s out of town. Go, babe, and I’ll
see you soon.”
I DIDN’T want to make a couple of trips transporting everything, so I had to do some judicious packing, but fifteen minutes later I had everything in the Corvair and was on the road, having backed out of the drive without scraping the side this time.
Maybe it was because it was a Wednesday, but when I turned into the rear parking lot of the building where Wills worked, I found a spot close to the employees’ entrance, which was a really good thing. I went around to the passenger side, opened the door, and retrieved the Crock-Pot and the bags holding plates and silverware and a couple of French baguettes, still warm from the oven.
I closed the door with a bump of my hip and headed for the sliding doors.
Sanford looked up. “Good evening, Mr. Bascopolis. Mr. Matheson left word you’d be coming.”
“Do you need to frisk me?”
“I’m afraid so. I’ll also need to check those bags.”
“No problem.” I set the Crock-Pot and the bags down and held out my arms.
Sanford was brisk and thorough. Then he sniffed and looked wistfully at the Crock-Pot. “Something smells good.”
“Would you like some? I made plenty.”
“I’d love it! My… uh… wife isn’t much of a cook.”
I took out a plate and a fork, tore off a chunk of bread, and gave him a portion of the stew.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Does Young know I’m on my way?”
“Yes.” He was already dipping the bread into the stew.
Young would probably want some too. It was a good thing I’d made so much. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Mmm,” he said around a mouthful.
I got in the elevator and managed to press the button for seven.
WHEN THE doors slid open, Young was the only one there this time. “Sorry, Mr. Bascopolis, I’ll have to—”
“I know.” I put everything down, and as I’d done on the first floor, I held my arms out.
Young’s pat down was even quicker than Sanford’s had been, but he lingered over the bags.
“Uh…. Hank said something about beef stew?”
“Yes.” I prepared another plate and handed it to him.
“Do you need any help with this?”
“Actually, I do. Thanks.”
“Mmm.” He’d already stuffed some of the stew into his mouth, and while he chewed, he wrapped his arms around the Crock-Pot. We went to the right rather than the left. “Mmm! Oh, this is really good! Would you mind letting me have the recipe?”
“Not at all. I’ll give it to you before I leave.”
“Thank you!”
I opened the door to Wills’s office, and Young went in, put the Crock-Pot on Ms. DiNois’s desk, and left. Four people were waiting there. “Uh-oh. I don’t think I brought enough plates.”
“That’s okay,” Ms. DiNois said. “I’ll share with Patsy and Gabe.”
I recognized “Patsy” as Ms. Parker, Vince’s secretary, and I guessed the man standing beside them was Gabe. He was striking, and something about him rang a bell, but I couldn’t place him, which was unusual for me.
“Are you Winchester?”
He laughed softly and shook his head as he took a plate and piled it with the stew. The three of them shared not only the plate but a fork, feeding each other.
“I’m Winchester.” This man was younger, another of those anonymous-looking men who worked here.
“Hello.” I handed him a plate and fork and chunk of bread and let him help himself.
Wills came out of his office. “I thought I smelled something delicious. I hope you saved some for me. Keep in mind my fiancé is the cook.”
“Lucky dog!” Winchester mumbled around a mouthful.
“You’re straight, Winchester, and don’t forget it. Come on, babe. Let’s have dinner.”
And we shared the last plate and the fork.
SOMETHING WAS going on at work, more than Vince being out of the office, and for the next four days I hardly saw my lover except when I brought him clean clothes and dinner.
I expected Paul to call at least once a day to bring me up to date, but when he called early Thursday morning, when I was in the middle of packing breakfast up for Wills, he was in tears, and I dropped the plates I was holding, breaking them.
“How bad—”
“No, he’s fine! Well, he’s a little battered, but he’s alive! Some bastard he knew when he lived in Philly kidnapped him. The paramedics are taking him to the ER to get checked out, and I’m going with them.”
“Vince?”
“He’s….” He lowered his voice. “He’s cleaning up the mess. I’ll fill you in later. After the doctor checks Spike out, we’re hoping to bring him home. Oh God, Theo! He’s coming home!”
I wanted to know what happened to the bastard who’d taken our boy, but I knew Paul had other things on his mind just then.
And I remembered another bastard, the one who’d hurt Paul last year. Vince had taken care of that one; he’d take care of this one as well.
Chapter 24
I’D GOTTEN the recipe for orange angel food cake with berries from the chef at Raphael’s, and I decided that that would be perfect for dessert tonight. I knew Wills would enjoy it. I hummed a few bars of “Temptation” as I took the cake out of the oven and put it on the rack to cool.
The house phone rang, and I glanced at the screen. The number was local, and since we’d been getting a lot of telemarketing calls lately—Jesus, you register at Bed Bath & Beyond and suddenly everyone and his brother has something you absolutely have to have for your wedding—I let the answering machine pick up.
“Hi. You’ve reached the residence of Theo and Wills. We’re not here right now. Leave a message and we’ll get back to you.”
I’d changed it back after the misunderstanding a few weeks ago. Had it only been a few weeks? In another couple of weeks, we’d be flying up to Cambridge to spend Easter weekend with Wills’s family.
I waited for the click that signaled the caller had hung up.
Instead… “Theo, is W-Wills there? Please be there. It’s… it’s JR.”
What the…? Why was Wills’s brother calling here? I grabbed the handset. “JR, it’s Theo. Wills is at work. What’s wrong?”
“We’re in so much trouble!”
“Who’s we?”
“Me and Pat. We’re at the bus depot here in DC, and there are a couple of old guys who are watching us. I called Dad, but he’s up in Cambridge and can’t do anything, so I… I tried to call Wills, but it went to his voice mail.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Pat said he was leaving home, and I couldn’t let him go by himself. He’s my friend!”
When Wills found out Pat had dragged his brother into this mess, he was going to hit the ceiling. Pat wasn’t called “Damien” for nothing. He really was like the kid from The Omen who turned out to be the Antichrist.
“Okay, stay by the ticket counter, and whatever you do, don’t let those men come near you! Do you hear me?” I had visions of a DC version of Franky getting his hands on my lover’s brother and sending him out on the streets to hustle. “I’ll call Wills.”
“Thank you.”
“Just stay put!” I hung up, flipped open my cell phone, and pressed “one” for Wills. “Please pick up. Please pick up.”
“What’s up, Theo?”
Thank God! “We’ve got a problem. JR’s in the bus depot!”
“What? Where?”
“Where do you think? Here in DC. He’s in trouble. He tried to call you, but—”
“That was him? Shit. I’m at a meeting. I had to let it go to voice mail.”
“He needs you, Wills. Damien decided to run away, and JR wouldn’t let him go alone.”
“Shit,” he said again, and I could tell if his boss hadn’t been present, his response would have been more intense.
“JR said he called your dad to let him know where they are, but, Wills
, he sounded so—”
“I’m on my way.” Dead air told me he’d disconnected the call.
I couldn’t stay there twiddling my thumbs. JR was close enough to being my brother-in-law, but more than that, I liked him.
I grabbed my car keys and my jacket. I didn’t know how long it would take Wills to get to the bus depot, but I was damn well going there myself.
“Miss Su, be a good girl. I expect that cake to be in one piece when we get home!”
“Mrrow.” She stropped herself against my leg, then turned her back to me, sat down, and began to industriously lick her hind leg.
FORTUNATELY, TRAFFIC wasn’t too heavy, and it only took about fifteen minutes to get to the bus depot. I pulled into the parking lot and spotted Wills’s Dodge. He had managed to arrive before me. Not that I was surprised, since family was involved. What did surprise me was that the Dodge was parked in a handicapped spot with a tag dangling from the rearview mirror. I didn’t bother asking myself if that was legal, just parked a few spaces away and ran for the depot.
I’d told JR to wait by the ticket counter, so that was where I headed. A few people hurried in my direction, looking over their shoulders uneasily.
I rounded the corner and skidded to a stop.
A man was on the floor, mewling sounds coming from his mouth. Wills had his foot on the man’s spine, the man’s left arm twisted high behind his back. Wills had his gun pointed at the base of his skull.
“Is everything okay?” I felt like a dope asking that, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“Yes. Geez, is everyone showing up?” Wills groused to himself. “Mr. Vincent, Theo. Who’s next? Dad?”
I glanced around, and sure enough, there was Vince, holding what looked like a cannon on two sullen-faced men. Something about them reminded me of my first days in this city.
I turned back and got a good look at the guy under Wills’s foot. He was a vice cop, kind of an okay guy in spite of it. At least he never coerced the boys into his bed that I had heard. “Jim?”
“Sweetcheeks? What are you doing here? Are you running chickens now? Ow!”