“A lot of people at the arena would have access to these?”
Brett nodded. “I think so. There are cheap ones sold in bags of five or ten for a couple of dollars. The tools sculptors use are of a much better quality and usually locked up when not in use.”
Swift tapped a few keys on her keyboard and a video popped up. “This is outside of Celia’s room. The rest are outside of yours.” She pointed at the screen. “This person hides his or her face, and dodges around the security cameras when possible. That is someone very clever, or a professional. Do you recognize her, or him?”
Brett leaned closer to the screen and studied the collection of clips. “I think it’s a woman.”
Swift nodded. “Me too.”
Shaking his head Brett said, “Maybe, I don’t know. I got friendly with the other performers and some of the crew, but not enough to recognize them without seeing their faces. Possibly Rylan would.” He pulled out his phone and opened Rylan’s contact information, turning it so Swift could see. “Here’s his email.” As she sent the videos Brett called Rylan. “Hey, I know your plane probably hasn’t landed yet, but Detective Swift is sending you some video. Make sure you watch in private. See you soon and take care of yourself.”
“There are two other things that are confusing me. We found blood and tissue from Clive in Celia’s wounds.”
“So, Clive was hit then stabbed before Celia and maybe he was the target?” Brett asked.
Swift nodded. “That is anger. Pros don’t do that. Also, Celia’s knees were broken. The full report won’t be back for weeks, but from the preliminary the ME suspects someone knew what they were doing. Those injuries would’ve ended her skating career even if she hadn’t been killed. I’m sorry.”
Brett stared at the floor for a few beats then took some deep breaths. He bit his lip and clenched and unclenched his fists a few times to keep from breaking DC Swift’s desk in half. “Could whoever wanted this done have been with the killer?” How the hell was he going to tell Rylan about this? As much as he’d like to keep this information to himself and protect Rylan, doing that would be wrong.
“Maybe, but a pro wouldn’t tolerate that sort of action. Truthfully, I’m on the fence as to whether or not this was a pro.”
“Or, someone who maybe did a lot of research?” Brett asked.
Swift shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. I agree, you should wait a day or two before going to Calgary. Let’s give whoever this is some room, let them think they accomplished their goal.” She stopped, folded her hands on the desk and looked Brett directly in the eye. “It’s going to be a long time before your sister’s body will be released. I will be able to release some of the items on her body by tomorrow.”
Brett nodded. “When I arrived here I was determined to stay until I could take her home. Now, I don’t care how long it takes as long as whoever is doing this is caught. I need to be with Rylan and make sure he’s safe. Thank you for all your help,” Brett said softly.
“Don’t thank me until we catch our killer.” She reached over and patted Brett’s hand. “And we will do everything possible to catch them.”
Brett stood up and held out his hand, shaking D.C. Swift’s hand. “I appreciate that.”
“Stay in touch.”
“I will,” Brett assured her and left.
Once back at the hotel he checked the flight information. Rylan’s flight was landing late. Brett’s stomach did a flip flop. He spent a few frantic minutes searching the news for a crash, but there was nothing. Flights were late for all sorts of reasons, he’d been on many a late flight. It meant nothing.
Except it did when Rylan was on the plane. He couldn’t lose one more person.
Brett paced around the room trying to banish thoughts of plane crashes and his sister’s final moments from his mind. Finally, he yanked his suitcase from the closet, opened it wide, and threw it on the bed. He needed a task to fill the time so he didn’t have to think about Celia or what it would do to Rylan to learn the injuries she’d received during her attack. This was the only chore he had. His phone was set carefully on the night table so he was certain he wouldn’t miss a notification, text, or call.
While he began packing he’d glance over at the phone every few seconds. He stopped and stared out the window. “Rocha, you’re being a moron. Rylan’s ticked off, not leaving forever and you’ll see him in a couple of days.”
He’d packed everything other than what he’d need for the next two days when his phone chimed again. Snatching it up he took a few deep breaths, tried to unclench the knot in his stomach, and answered the phone.
“Hi.” Yeah, the breathless way Brett said the word was uber cool. Not.
Rylan laughed softly. “Hi yourself. I didn’t expect to hear from you so quickly, but I’m glad I did. I miss you.”
The raw honesty in Rylan’s voice with his last statement caused Brett’s knees to weaken. He sat on the bed and wiped his free hand over his face. “I miss you, too,” he croaked. Tell Rylan about Celia.
“It’ll be late I think before I can watch the videos on my laptop, but I did look on my phone.” Rylan paused. Brett heard people talking, their voices getting louder then fading.
“Is everything okay? No problems with your flight or anything?” Details about Rylan’s flight steered Brett away from what he’d recently learned about his sister. Not on the phone, can’t tell him over the phone, wait till you’re in Calgary to tell Rylan.
“There was a delay, not sure why, but that was sorted out and the flight was fine. We’re waiting for the buses to take us to our hotel. It’s the normal level of chaos.” Rylan stopped and laughed a bit. “Gotta go. See you soon?”
“You betcha. I’ll probably leave here the day after tomorrow. If that changes I’ll let you know,” Brett said. “Rylan, be careful and take care of yourself.”
“I will. Thanks. You too.”
Being alone was making Brett’s skin crawl. Every time he closed his eyes an image of mangled knees filled his head. Next, he’d get a flash of Rylan’s expression when Brett told him all the details about Celia. He could only find so much to do in a small hotel room. What he needed was something to do and somewhere to go.
Brett decided on a final trip to Frisky Flirts. Once there, he chatted with some of the other guests and could tell by the looks thrown his way he’d have plenty of opportunities if he wanted some company that night. That really wasn’t what he wanted or needed.
The simple fact was the short time he’d spent with Rylan had made him lose interest in that life, the one-night stands, the hook ups that last a few days, a week at the most. Everywhere he looked he saw someone who reminded him of Rylan in some way. They weren’t the same, and not nearly good enough. Brett decided he had to face the fact, Rylan had completely taken over Brett’s thoughts, wants, and desires.
Brett gave up and left the club and returned to the hotel where he flopped on the bed and switched on the television. He’d go to Calgary, and be with Rylan, really be with him. Brett vowed no matter what he’d be the man Rylan deserved to have.
* * * *
Nothing could dampen Rylan’s good mood and he reminded himself he was permitted to feel something other than sadness. In fact, had Celia or her mother been here, they’d tell him he was obligated to live a good life, because no matter how long that life was, it’d be too short. Rylan would do what was right for him to honor Celia’s memory. He’d shed so many tears, he needed to allow himself some happiness. Rylan had gone from down and depressed to cheerful within the span of one voicemail message. As much as he wanted to replay Brett’s message, and their conversation, Rylan knew he had to concentrate on the videos sent by Detective Swift.
He watched and re-watched them, stopping and starting the videos at different points, having the feeling he knew the person stalking the hotel halls and depositing postcards. Yet he couldn’t be sure and he certainly wasn’t going to accuse someone unless he was one-hundred-fifteen percent sure.<
br />
Kathryn Sweeny stood at the front of the bus and announced their itinerary. Rylan studied her, then casually glanced down at his phone. When he looked up she stared at him for a few seconds before turning away and sitting down again until they arrived at their hotel. An hour to check in and they were all on their way to rehearsal.
It had to be some bizarre coincidence, or Rylan’s imagination. Kathryn was a pain in the ass and an absolute taskmaster, but she wasn’t a criminal. He’d wait until he could watch the videos again on a larger screen. By the time the bus reached their hotel and home for the next few weeks, Rylan convinced himself he was overreacting to Kathryn’s militant rules.
Brett would be in Calgary soon enough and in the meantime Rylan would be busy with the preparations and rehearsals. He wouldn’t have much trouble staying in a group and just to be safe he’d stay as far away from Kathryn Sweeny as possible.
When he finished with rehearsal, Rylan began making his way to the locker rooms, realizing too late he was all alone in the hallway leading away from the rink. His skates were slung over one shoulder, so he pulled them down and gripped them in one hand and slipped the guards off the blades. Ice skates would make an excellent weapon if needed. The blades were, well blades, sharp with the serrated edge of the toe picks and long enough to do some damage.
A door he’d already passed by opened and then closed with a soft clink. Footsteps hurried along behind him. Rylan tried not to panic while he lengthened his stride.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
“Mr. Hennessey, wait.” It was a man’s voice.
Rylan started to jog. He looked for the signs pointing to the locker rooms, but there were none. There’d been plenty of signs on the way to the rink.
I went the wrong way!
“Wait!” Whoever was behind him picked up their pace. Rylan thought he’d heard the word detective, but he wasn’t sure.
When someone touched his shoulder, Rylan whirled around, flinging the skates in an arc.
A man threw his hands in the air and jumped back. He held something out to Rylan. “Whoa, whoa! I’m one of the good guys. Sorry, I thought you’d be expecting me. What the hell are you doing wandering around here alone? Lindsay said you were onboard with protection.”
“Huh?” Rylan’s brain was still screaming at him to fight and run.
“James Markus.” He gave the object in his hand a little shake. “Detective. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Markus gave a slight chuckle. “Good idea with the skates.”
“Um…I…uh…I didn’t hit you, did I?”
Detective Markus smiled and shook his head. “No harm done. Rule number one, don’t attack cops, rule number two, don’t go into dark tunnels when you’re supposed to be having police protection.”
Rylan felt his cheeks burn. He scrunched his face, rubbed the back of his head, and focused on some spot over Markus’s shoulder. “Right. Got it. I was going to the locker rooms and you spooked me.”
“The ones back there?” Markus jerked one thumb over his shoulder. Rylan nodded and Markus continued, “Let’s go.” When they arrived at the door Markus leaned casually against the wall. “I’ll wait out here. If you yell, I’ll come busting in, I promise.”
There were plenty of others in the locker room, which gave Rylan comfort. He changed, turned his skates in to the equipment manager for maintenance, then stripped the wrapping off his feet to soak them for a bit. While he sat there, warm bubbly water swirling around his feet, he rubbed his calves and thighs.
Finally, when the ache in his feet was a dull hurt and he was calmer, he left the footbath behind, finished dressing and stepped into the hall.
“I’ll drive you to the hotel. I can’t stick around twenty-four-seven, but here is my direct number. Any problems or if something simply seems off to you, call me. I understand you’ve got a boyfriend who throws a good punch when needed.” Markus talked as they walked to the parking lot.
Rylan nodded. “Would you like an autograph?”
“I did throw a jersey in the car,” Markus admitted sheepishly. “Uh, and one of your programs.”
That made Rylan laugh. “I feel better, thanks for that. Give me the shirt and I’m sure Brett will be delighted to sign it for you. I’d be happy to autograph the program, too, but I get it, you’re really a hockey fan.”
When they reached the car, Markus radioed his dispatcher he’d picked up his passenger and they were on their way to Rylan’s hotel. The entire way Markus chatted away about hockey, the man seemed to know details of the sport going back a century. In addition, Markus also had considerable knowledge of ice skating sports in general. Rylan relaxed back against the seat, feeling more at ease with every passing minute. Without Brett, Rylan had been feeling vulnerable and uneasy. At least with this familiar subject of conversation Rylan’s mind was distracted from the fact someone might be out to get him.
James Markus followed Rylan up to his room and checked it, making sure Rylan would be safe. He waited around while Rylan ordered room service, and hung around until it was delivered.
“Are you planning on going anywhere tonight?” Markus asked.
“Naa. Too tired. Thanks for your help,” Rylan said.
Markus shrugged. “It’s what I do. What time do you need to leave in the morning?”
“Rehearsal is ten to six. First show is the day after.”
“I’ll see you then. Stay up here until I arrive.” Markus reached out and tapped Rylan’s arm. “Sleep well and don’t hesitate to call. Keep the door locked.”
“I will.”
Rylan settled in for the night. He’d always enjoyed the fact that at most of their tour stops he’d had a room to himself. Now what was once a welcomed luxury had become anxiety inducing. He double checked the locks on the door and the window, despite the fact he was ten floors up.
He booted up his laptop and watched the videos again. The progress he’d made over the course of the day convincing himself he didn’t know the person lurking in the hallway outside first Celia’s and then his room flitted away. Turning off the video, Rylan checked his email. Nothing.
Picking up his phone he checked his email again and then for missed calls or texts.
Should he call Brett? Maybe something is wrong.
Brett had only called to tell Rylan about the videos and he’d returned the call. Did he need to wait for Brett to make contact again? However, he had extended the offer for Rylan to stay with him once he reached Calgary. Rylan sat there staring at the phone. Brett’s fine. He has to be.
“Oh, for God’s sake, what are you? A fourteen-year-old girl? No one keeps track of who calls when.” Rylan swiped across Brett’s number to initiate the call. Please answer, you have to answer.
“Hey, I was just about to call you. I wasn’t sure when you’d be finished for the day. How’s everything? No problems? Did the cops show?” Brett talked so fast Rylan didn’t have a chance to answer between questions. Finally, Brett stopped talking and took a breath, sighing it out loudly. “Hi.”
Rylan laughed. “Hi. I’m fine, no problems, and there’s a Detective Markus—James, and wow, is he a hockey fan. I have a jersey for you to sign. I hope that was okay to say you would?”
“Sure, it was. So, you and this police officer hit it off?”
Feeling mischievous, Rylan casually offered, “There was some chemistry.”
Brett snorted. “I’m leaving here in the morning. Celia’s body won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, so no reason to stay. I’ll text you when I’m checked in.” He paused for a few seconds. “My offer stands, if you want to stay with me,” Brett’s voice caught and he paused. Rylan heard Brett clear his throat and waited patiently. “I’d very much like it if you’d stay with me.”
“I’d really like that too. I meant to ask the Sweenys if it was alright, but then I watched those videos. Brett, I can’t be positive, but that person reminded me an awful lot of Kathryn Sweeny.”
“Are you sure?”
“Be careful and stay away from her. We’ll sort it out when I get there. Change of subject.” Brett’s voice dropped an octave and softened.
The adjustment in Brett’s voice immediately made Rylan’s cock grow firm and his heart rate increase. “Okay,” Rylan barely avoided squeaking the word out.
“Boy, what are you wearing?”
“Um, some sweats, T-shirt…” Rylan’s voice trailed off when Brett cleared his throat. He took a deep breath and added, “Sir.”
“Have a dance belt on?”
“No, sir. I changed when I arrived in my room.”
“Hmm. Was that before or after your detective friend left?”
Rylan snickered, secretly pleased he’d sparked a bit of jealously in Brett. “After, sir.”
“Take all your clothes off, get a belt, and put me on speaker. You’ll need both hands,” Brett instructed.
Rylan set his phone on the table and did as Brett told him. “I’m ready, sir.”
He heard Brett moving around on the other end of the call, but couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing. Seconds ticked by and Rylan had the feeling that Brett knew he stood there, naked with his dance belt gripped in both hands.
Finally, after what seemed hours, Brett cleared his throat and spoke. “Do you have any lube?”
“No, sir.”
“We’ll make do. With one hand fondle your balls. Tell me how it feels.”
Rylan reached down and stroked his testicles. “Good. It feels good.” A pleasant warmth spread out from his groin to his belly.
“Do you like the feeling?”
“Yes, sir. Very much.” Rylan rubbed his thumb between his balls, enjoying how the hair there scratched against his skin and sent tiny sparks through him.
“Squeeze, just a little bit, not too hard,” Brett said. Even that slight pressure made Rylan gasp softly. “Harder. Twist.” Brett’s command made Rylan quiver and moan. “Is your cock hard?”
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