“Oh God.” He heard Niles sigh, an unsteady sound, as though he were shuddering. Was it reluctance to deal with Tim or the knowledge that Tim was talking about a murder case that had him shaken? “Okay, Tim, can I call you back in just a moment? I need to speak to someone.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll have my phone on me. Talk to you in a few.”
“Okay.” Niles hung up before Tim could reply.
Payne glanced over at him again, a question in her eyes, and he forced a smile before she decided to get nosy. “He’s busy, but he’s going to clear some time from his schedule.”
“Did I say anything?”
“No, but you had that look.”
“Okay, then. This is me, not looking. Maybe we can find out if the A/V techs need help going through all that convention footage until you hear back from him. We need to interview Lakshmi’s family again too, which is going to suck, but I want to see if they have a computer or phone she used. If we can’t find Charity’s, maybe hers will fill in the gaps about their online activities.”
Tim scoffed. “Sounds like the ninth circle of Hell. Which just about suits my mood. Let’s do it.”
“Sorry about that.” Niles dropped into the driver’s seat of his Acura and offered Daniel what felt like a weak smile. The parking lot was thinning out, down to a few cars as employees trickled away for the day. One car in the visitor’s space near the door where he’d stopped to take Tim’s phone call had someone sitting in it, and it wasn’t until Niles saw a mopey-looking Patrick leave the building that Niles realized he recognized the guy as the stepbrother Patrick had attended the convention with. Patrick started to get into the car, then apparently remembered something he’d forgotten, said something to his stepbrother, and went back inside.
“Look, there’s something I have to—” His cell phone rang again, and Niles sighed, fishing it out of his pocket to look at the caller ID.
Shit. Anthony.
He’d already sent several texts and left three messages today that Niles hadn’t bothered to listen to yet. By now it was apparent that Anthony would keep calling until Niles finally spoke to him, and Niles really didn’t want his phone ringing incessantly during the evening he had planned. He gave Daniel an apologetic smile and thumbed the Answer button, stepping out of the car again. Once more, the chants of the protesters assaulted his ears. Patrick’s stepbrother was still parked there, his windows cracked open. Niles was surprised the bass beat of deafeningly loud music wasn’t thumping out of the car.
“Yeah, Anthony, what is it?”
“Hi, Niles, how’s it going?”
Niles gritted his teeth. “It’s going fine. Did you need something?”
“I just wanted to check in with you, see how you were doing.” Niles kept silent, waiting for Anthony to get to the point. “I saw you today.”
The hair on the back of his neck began to prickle. “Sorry, you what?”
“I was out doing some shopping in the Pearl District and I saw you having coffee with someone at Sisters Coffee Company.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He shook off the surge of tension with a mild shudder. “I was doing an interview for LEET News, the gaming magazine.”
“Ah.” Anthony’s laugh sounded forced. “I thought maybe you might be seeing someone.”
The vein in Niles’s temple began to throb, and he rubbed it wearily. “Anthony, I have a busy day tomorrow and things I need to do tonight. Was there something you needed?”
“Oh. I’d hoped you might want to get together for dinner. We need to talk, Niles. I miss you.”
“That’s not a good idea.” Damn, he seemed to be saying that a lot. He gave Daniel another apologetic look through the windshield. “I’m sorry, but no. I’m not going to do that. Besides, I have plans tonight.”
“Plans. You mean you have a date?”
“No. Well . . . yeah. Fine. I’m meeting with the police on a case they need to ask me about and then I’m having dinner with the reporter, okay?” Tim and his I said I’d wait for you to call and I meant it was sounding better by the minute. “Whatever it is, it’s my business, not yours, so unless you needed something else, I really have to go.”
“Oh come on! Niles! This is ridiculous. You’re not even going to give us another chance? You’re just moving on? That’s not fair—”
Niles growled and jerked open his car door, getting back inside. “I’m hanging up now, Anthony. Don’t call me again. Good night.”
He thumbed off the phone and fell forward, dropping his head on the steering wheel with enough force to make the horn beep.
“Well, that sounded unpleasant,” Daniel observed dryly. “Bad breakup?”
Niles half whimpered, half laughed, playing it up, trying to make the sound comical rather than as desperate as it felt. It transformed into a sigh when he felt Daniel’s hand on his back, rubbing over his shoulders. “One among many. Apparently the words I don’t think we should see each other anymore have no meaning these days.” He turned his face to look at Daniel. “I didn’t know that. Did you know that?”
“I’ve heard rumors to that effect. It hasn’t been a problem I’ve had to deal with just yet.”
“Count your blessings.” He sat back and scrubbed his face with his hands. “So. Okay. I was going to make you dinner, but something has come up. A detective I know with the Portland Police absolutely has to talk to me about a case he’s working, and he needs to do it tonight or tomorrow. Tomorrow is terrible for me, and tonight— Well, obviously tonight sucks too, but I’m out of choices. I am so sorry.”
“Police? The reporter in me is intrigued. Anything you can go on the record about?”
“If I had the first idea what he thinks I could help with, I might be able to answer that, but I don’t. He just said he needs to pick my brain about a homicide case he’s working.” He pushed his hair back from his face and turned the ignition. “I really am sorry.”
“Homicide? Wow. Heavy.” Daniel shook his head. “It’s okay. Things come up, I get it. I’ll find a room and head back to Seattle tomorrow. Maybe next time I’m down in Portland, we can try this again.”
Niles groaned, closing his eyes again. “Shit. You don’t need to do that. You can still stay at my place. I’ll arrange to meet Tim somewhere, tell him what he needs to know, and bring takeout home. Worse comes to worse, I’ve got a spare bedroom. We can hang out and game tonight if the mood is totally ruined. I’ll show you more of the beta to compensate for being a lousy date.”
“What do you think the chances of it not being ruined are?” Daniel asked, looking amused.
“Honestly?” Niles shrugged. “After talking about someone being murdered with the guy who broke my heart while I was in college? I’m going to call them low. I know that’s not the offer I first made but—”
“It’s cool.” Daniel reached over and squeezed the back of Niles’s neck in another quick, friendly massage. “Could be fun. We’ll just see what happens.”
“Thanks.” He gave Daniel a rueful glance and looked up Tim’s number in his call history. “Hey, it’s Niles . . .”
Once he’d arranged to meet Tim at a tavern near his house, Niles pulled out of the parking lot, driving toward the exit where the protesters marched with their “FAGS WILL BURN” signs bouncing over their heads.
“I can’t believe the Guiding Light Fellowship is actually picketing you.” Daniel shook his head, looking a little amazed. “That’s like, big-league stuff.”
Niles laughed, trying to shake off his sense of frustration. “I was more interested to see the counterprotest. Who knew the Electronic Gamers Association could pull together a gathering that large on such short notice? Jordan thinks it would be good publicity to offer their members access to the beta to say thanks.”
“That would be a really classy move. I might mention that in my article.” Daniel’s approving nod warmed Niles and made some of the stress of the last fifteen minutes begin to melt away. Nonetheless, he scowled as he stopped at the traffic lig
ht alongside the bigots shouting their slurs and epithets. Then Daniel chuckled. “Hey. Wanna give them something to really protest?”
“What?” Slow on the uptake, Niles didn’t quite catch on until Daniel caught the collar of his jacket and tugged him toward the passenger seat, planting a firm kiss on his mouth. After a moment, he got with the program and opened to the kiss, letting his tongue stroke across Daniel’s bottom lip.
They were just getting into it when the beep of a car horn behind them alerted him that the light had changed. In the rearview mirror, he saw Patrick’s stepbrother’s car behind them. Patrick was in the passenger seat, apparently devoted to looking out the side window rather than at Niles’s car or his stepbrother.
Niles pulled away and turned the corner. “That was awesome,” he told Daniel. And effective too. The fly of his jeans felt significantly tighter than it had, and suddenly it didn’t seem like the evening would be a complete loss. “Come on. Let’s get you settled in back at my place.”
Daniel appeared distinctly pleased with himself. “Sounds good. And for the record?” He reached over and let his fingers trail down the side of Niles’s neck, making him shiver. Fuck, he was horny. There was just too much shit going on, and all of it too overwhelming. He’d been anticipating the oblivion of a really good, uncomplicated, no-strings-attached orgasm or three. “I’m going to hold out hope for beating the odds.”
A grin stretched his face, and Niles reached down to adjust himself un-self-consciously. “I am too.”
Tim was waiting at an isolated table in the back corner of the tavern with a pitcher of soda and a basket of chips and salsa when he saw Niles walking past the window. They were only blocks from Niles’s house, according to the contact information he’d given Tim when they’d had lunch, and considering the parking situation in Northwest Portland, Tim imagined Niles would have walked, despite the drizzle.
He allowed himself a moment to observe Niles as he took off his leather jacket and swept his unruly curls back from his face. He really was still the most gorgeous thing Tim had ever seen, and Tim’s pool of experience had broadened considerably in the decade since he’d been a closeted and confused criminal justice major at U of O. The darker complexion and thick, sooty lashes that were the legacy of Niles and Jordan’s Turkish mother set off the pale gray-green eyes he’d inherited from their British father. A hint of dense hair played peekaboo at the open collar of his soft, denim-blue button-down, and his jeans looked well-worn and comfortable, grasping his ass and package like a lover’s possessive hand.
Niles gave him a wary look and approached the table, saying nothing when he filled a glass for Niles from the pitcher. “Thanks for coming,” Tim murmured, expecting Niles to take a drink and browse the menu, but he pushed that aside.
“I’ll be having dinner later, thanks. I’ve, um, I’ve got a houseguest I need to get back to.” The way Niles’s gaze stuttered away from his told Tim all he needed to know about the sort of company Niles was entertaining. “What is this all about?”
Right, Wyatt. Focus.
“Yeah.” Tim puffed out his cheeks, sighing slowly. He glanced around to make sure the hostess hadn’t seated anyone near enough to overhear their conversation, despite the volume of the music. “First, I need to ask you what you were doing Saturday night.”
Niles stiffened. “Excuse me? Why do you need to know that? What business is it of yours?” He ran his hand through his hair. “Jesus, what is it with me and nosy exes?”
“What? No. No, this isn’t—” Tim stopped himself, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “Sorry, I might have phrased that wrong. It’s not personal. Just answer the question, please.”
“Fine.” Niles sighed, slumping in his chair. “Saturday I was at a convention until late afternoon, and then I was online gaming most of the night.”
“Can anyone confirm that?”
“Jordie and my boss, Rosie, were at the convention with me. And in the evening, I was on voice chat with my guild the whole time, including Rosie.”
“Good enough, thank you.” Tim made himself relax.
“Now what the hell is this about?” Niles demanded.
“How much have you been following the local news this last week, about the young women whose bodies were found in Forest Park and then today, down on the riverfront near Sellwood?”
Niles shook his head, frowning. “I haven’t even had a chance to check the news this week. I heard something about a girl in Forest Park on the radio, though honestly I’ve been too busy to pay much attention to anything lately.”
“Well, Payne and I are working that case, and I’m trying to get some insight into these girls’ hobbies because that seems to be the best connection we’ve found so far. They were into, um, dressing up like characters—”
“Cosplay.”
“Right. They went to conventions. Specifically, the one that you were at this past weekend.”
“Wait, what?” Niles gave him a stunned look. “They were gamers? Holy shit.”
Tim nodded gravely. “Yeah. Which is why I had to clear your alibi before I could talk to you about it.”
“What are you saying? There were thousands of people there! You can’t honestly think—”
“God, no, not at all. But my captain would have my ass if I talked to someone and didn’t cover my bases.” Tim shrugged helplessly, watching Niles visibly work on lowering his hackles. It was a process he remembered well from the times they’d argued—usually about Tim’s denial of being gay—in college. “As far as we can tell, most of their social life was online and not in person, so we’re having a hard time tracking down their acquaintances and what the victims might have being doing. The first victim was on her own out here. The second had family in town, but she didn’t discuss her activities with them much. Payne and I just got done interviewing them, and they just sort of hand-waved it when we asked, and said it was silly kid stuff.”
Niles nodded, though he seemed shaken, and took a sip of his drink. “That’s pretty common. We geeks are plenty happy to talk about our obsessions in the hopes of converting someone and sharing the joy, but we get dismissed a lot.” He gave Tim a look, reminding him that he’d been one of those dismissive types. “It’s why we tend to be so insular. Stick with our own kind.” He reached for a chip, though he seemed more inclined to stare at it thoughtfully than nibble. “You know what fandoms they were into?”
“The first victim had an extensive anime and console game collection, but the second victim’s family said she had been playing video games on her computer lately.”
“Any titles I know?”
“No clue.” Tim growled in frustration. “Both girls’ computers are missing. They apparently took their laptops with them when they went out the day they disappeared and the computers haven’t been found, nor have their cell phones. Which gives us reason to suspect they had contacts on there who don’t want to be found.”
“You think they knew the people, or person, who killed them?”
“Either that or there was something on their computers and phones that could connect them to the killer.”
Niles ran a thumb up and down his pint glass. “I have to admit, I’m a little hesitant to believe that a gamer could be responsible. Gaming gets an undeserved rap for promoting violence. I would hate for this to trigger a witch hunt. Geek culture is . . . It’s about sharing the love of something. People with similar interests coming together to indulge those interests. No different than a knitting club or sports fans who get together and go to games. Gamers are harmless.”
“Ask any European country how harmless sports fans are when they riot after the World Cup,” Tim said with a smirk, taking a long drink. “Not to mention all those messages you receive.”
“Yeah, but that’s just smack talk. You can’t look at it that way.” Niles began to gesticulate, a mannerism Tim remembered him lapsing into whenever he’d start to get worked up.
“Well, how should I look at it? What do you ge
t from it, hanging out with people who send death threats?”
“If you just look at that, then you’re missing everything else that fandom does for people.” Niles sighed. “You’re missing the millions of dollars raised for charity in fan-led activities. You’re missing the kids saved from suicide because they have one bright spot in their life, a circle of people with a hobby in common. You’re missing the isolated and disenfranchised outsiders whose lives are made better by knowing there are other people like them out there. It’s not just harassment.”
Tim nodded. “Fair enough. But gamers are just like everyone else, right? You get your good; you get your bad.”
“Yeah, I guess, but generally speaking, even when it gets vitriolic, it is, as I said, harmless.”
“Noted. But harmless didn’t kill two girls.”
Niles’s shoulders tensed visibly. “You don’t know it was a gamer who did that.”
“Of course I don’t. If I make any such assumption, it will be because that’s where the evidence is pointing us. And that’s what I’m trying to find right now: evidence, one way or the other.” Niles blinked, then nodded and settled back in his chair. Tim gave him a comforting smile. “Okay. So, let’s talk about these gamers and the sort of people these girls might have hung out with.”
“It’s like any other fandom, really, except that TV and book fandoms are frequently dominated by female fans, and comic, sci-fi, and gaming fandoms tend to be dominated by male fans, or so the male fans think.”
“Explain that to me,” Tim prompted, pulling out a notepad.
“In reality, the numbers suggest the demographics are nearly equal. Women make up forty-eight percent of the gaming market.” Niles grimaced. “The guys claim that’s because they play more ‘casual’ games that don’t require a lot of skill, but there’s no data to back that up. I know plenty of hardcore female gamers, including my boss. As I’ve mentioned before, the male fans are a little resistant to the fandom trending toward serving female fans equally.”
Player vs Player Page 9