by Sue Brown
Gil took an age to play with his phone, until he got it focused on the man. “I see him. Yeah, he followed us here.”
“You knew?” Josh got Gil’s patented ‘Aren’t you special’ look. “Of course you knew. You didn’t think to tell me?”
“I might have been wrong.” Gil’s tone suggested Josh better not agree.
Josh pulled his phone out. “We’d better contact Cal and Landry.”
“Already done. I sent them pictures.”
“Are we gonna stay for breakfast?”
“If we leave now, he’ll know we’ve made him,” Gil said. “’Sides, I’m hungry and I haven’t heard back from anyone yet.”
Josh’s appetite had vanished but Gil had a point and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the waitress walking toward them carrying two plates stacked high with pancakes and bacon. She placed one in front of each of them and smiled.
“Refill?”
Josh returned her smile. “That’d be great… uh… Tessa.”
Gil had shoveled a pancake into his mouth and couldn’t speak, so he just nodded.
The waitress returned with the coffee pot and topped them off. When she’d finally gone, Josh risked a look at Cap Dude. He was reading the paper and appeared to being paying them no attention.
“What’s he doing?” Gil asked.
“Reading the paper.”
“’Kay.”
This wasn’t the first time they’d been followed, and Josh and Gil kept up an undemanding pace as they ate and chattered, until there was no reason to stay any longer. Josh paid, left a generous tip for Tessa and they headed out of the diner. They were a couple of hundred yards down the road when Gil said. “He’s behind us again.”
“Amateur,” Josh muttered.
“Yeah,” Gil agreed.
The dude wasn’t making an effort not to be seen.
“Got your Oyster card?” Gil asked suddenly.
Jesse had shoved the blue prepaid Oyster cards into their hands on the first day in case they needed to use public transport while in London.
“Yeah. Why?”
“We’re gonna get on the bus coming up behind us. And we’re gonna time it so we get on as the doors close.”
“Gil, it’s the slowest getaway ever,” Josh protested. “He only has to run to the next stop.”
“Trust me.”
“’Kay.”
“Run when I tell you to.”
The bus passed them and, on Gil’s command, Josh bolted to the bus, leaping through the open doors at the back. Gil slammed into him and the doors closed behind them. Josh fumbled to get his Oyster card but Gil waved his wallet at the reader and Josh copied him.
As he looked back, Cap Dude stared open-mouthed at the bus. He had obviously not expected that maneuver and seemed at a loss as to what to do next.
Gil moved up the bus. It was half-empty and they found a seat near the next set of doors.
“What do we do now?” Josh said, half-turning to look at him.
“The bus has got to go across several intersections before it stops. He’s gonna find it hard to keep up.” Gil sounded smugly satisfied.
“And you know this how?”
“You told us to study the transport routes in London the last time we were here. Landry and me test each other sometimes.”
So he had. “Damn, I’m efficient.”
“You have your moments.”
“You’re dorkier than me.”
Gil casually flipped him off. “Don’t push it.”
They got off at the next stop. There was no sign of Cap Dude but they got a black cab to Threadneedle Street just in case. Jesse and Cal got to their feet as they walked into Jesse’s office.
“What happened?” Cal demanded. “You both okay?”
Gil nodded, his face set in grim lines. “We ditched the tail. Male, early forties, red baseball cap—”
“We’re running him through the databases now.”
“Tight buns,” Josh added. They both turned to stare at him. “What? He has.”
“Not a professional,” Gil said. “But he knows where we’re staying. He was talking to a woman outside the hotel.”
Josh could see from Cal’s body language that he wanted to hug him, but Josh shook his head, a slight movement but from the way Cal stepped back, he’d got the message.
“You and the boys need to change your hotel. I’ll make a new booking," Jesse said.
“I’ll call Landry and get him to pack our gear,” Gil said. He wandered out of the office as he called his brother.
“You didn’t recognize him?” Cal asked Josh.
Josh shook his head. “No clue. I’ve got an image of him on my phone, but it’s not a good one. I couldn’t get the angle right without making it obvious.” He handed over his phone.
Cal and Jesse huddled close together as they looked at the picture. Cal peered closely at the image. “His cap obscures most of his face.”
Josh snorted at Cal’s grumble. “Yeah, sorry about that. Next time I’ll ask him to pose for a head shot.”
Cal reached out to cuff Josh lightly. “Arse!”
“What did you do that for?” Josh asked, aggrieved, as he smoothed his hair back into place.
Jesse ignored them as he plucked Josh’s phone out of his hand. “This is a better shot than the one Gil sent me.”
“Hey, my phone,” Josh protested. “I could just send it to you.”
But Jesse ignored him and left the office.
“And then there were two,” Cal murmured.
Josh grumbled and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had been building since he first noticed Cap Dude. Cal moved to stand behind him, and placed his large hands on Josh’s shoulders.
“What’re you doing?” Josh tried to move away but Cal held onto him.
“Stay there,” Cal ordered.
“Yes, sir.” Josh tried to make it snippy but just at that moment Cal found two knots of muscle in Josh’s back and what came out instead was a groan of sheer pain/pleasure as Cal dug his thumbs in—hard. “Fucking, fucking, fuck, fuck,” Josh managed.
Cal rolled his thumbs around the knots, forcing another groan out of Josh. “You’re so tense.”
“No, really?” Josh aimed for sarcasm but when Cal massaged his muscles and left Josh with the brain power of a wet noodle he was afraid his attempt was very lame. “You’re so good at this.”
Cal hummed and continued to work over Josh’s muscles. Josh stayed where he was, passive under Cal’s hands until the tension had drained from his muscles. Cal’s hands stilled and Josh expected him to move away. But he stayed where he was and kissed the top vertebrae of Josh’s spine. A gentle kiss, followed by a lick. Josh closed his eyes as Cal did it again, the gentle touch making Josh’s knees buckle. “What’re you trying to do to me?”
“Just making sure.”
Josh never found out what it was Cal was making sure of because Gil and Jesse chose that moment to come back into the room. Gil frowned when he saw Cal and Josh standing close together, but Jesse simply handed Josh his phone and picked up the remote.
“Okay here’s our boy, not that it’ll do us much good. His face is too obscured. However, I’m going to get the CCTV footage at the hotel, and the diner.”
“You can do that?” Josh asked.
“Susan Walters is getting it.”
Josh frowned. “The cop in charge of the Jonathan Michaels case? Why are you getting her involved?”
“For one, the hotel and diner aren’t going to hand over their footage to just anyone, and second….” Jesse chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “If you take away the cap and casual clothes, I think this is Jonathan Michaels.”
He flashed up the more familiar image of Michaels and put the two of them side-by-side. Josh studied them closely. There were some similarities in the build but Josh struggled to find anything concrete to say Michaels and Cap Dude were one and the same. From the doubtful expression on Cal’s face he was o
bviously having the same issue.
“What makes you think they’re the same guy?” Cal asked. “I mean, I know Jon better than most people and I can’t see it.”
Jesse pressed the remote and another image flashed up, one Josh hadn’t seen before. He sucked in a breath at the sight of a much younger Cal and Michaels, on a beach somewhere, dressed in shorts and T-shirts. They looked young and carefree, their arms wrapped around each other, laughing at something Josh couldn’t see.
“God, where did you dig that up from?” Cal sounded shocked.
“Melissa Michaels gave it to us,” Jesse said. “Look at Michaels’ left hand.”
Josh studied it closely, as it was draped over Cal’s shoulder. He was having to damp down some severe jealousy issues at the sight of Cal wrapped around another man, even if it was twenty-odd years before they’d met and Michaels was straight. Straight or bi? Had they been in a relationship? Josh jumped as Gil snapped his fingers in front of his face.
“What the fuck?” He glared at Gil.
“Focus,” Gil muttered.
“What? I am.”
“Jesse asked you a question. Do you see the large curved scar on the back of his hand?”
It was plain on the photo with Cal, still pink and shiny, as if it was newish.
“How did he get the scar?” Josh asked.
“His brother caught him with a scythe during the previous summer,” Cal said. “Jon was lucky not to lose his hand. He’s left-handed so we had to take notes for him most of the autumn semester.”
“Now look at the man with the cap.” Jesse enlarged the area showing his hand. “The scar is faint but it’s there.”
Josh squinted at the pixilated image. It was hard to see and partially obscured by the jacket Cap Dude wore, but the scar was there, curving over his knuckles. “Why the hell would Jonathan Michaels be following us?”
“At least it proves one thing,” Jesse said. He’s still alive and he has to be wrapped up in all this shit.”
Cal nodded, looking deeply unhappy at this revelation. Josh wanted to hug him, knowing how hard it must be to discover a friend had obviously gone over to the dark side. “It’s the first piece of actual evidence we have that he’s still alive. Who was the woman?”
“Rick and Dave have gone over there to pick up Landry, the SUV, and your gear. They’re going to ask around,” Jesse said.
“I need a drink,” Cal muttered, rubbing at his temples.
“You’ll have to stick with coffee.” Jesse picked up the phone on his desk. “Steve, can you get coffee for three, and have Barton’s autopsy results arrived yet? Okay, can you chase them up?”
Cal looked at his watch. Josh followed his gaze, noticing the fine dark hairs curling around the black face. “You’re a bit premature, Jesse. They won’t have finished yet.”
Jesse ignored him. “Just check,” he said to Stephen and put down the phone. “Let’s have coffee and reconvene in an hour. I’ve got to check on another situation.”
“Your agent in Colombia?” Josh asked. “Is he still MIA?”
“He’s still missing,” Jesse said grimly. “It’s not that. This is more… personal.”
Cal snorted out a laugh. “You mean Dan is giving you hell for not coming home for the last three days?”
“Something like that,” Jesse agreed.
Josh furrowed his brow. “Uh… isn’t this your job?”
“It’s a long story,” Jesse said. “Let’s just say that coming home at night was one of the deals for me returning to the agency, and I usually do. But then I’m not usually running three high profile cases.”
“Three?” Josh asked.
“Yeah. One’s just wrapping up now.” Jesse’s eyes flicked to Cal and Josh cottoned on fast.
“Your case?”
Cal nodded. “Yeah. The paperwork’s a bitch.”
“When was the last time you got home?”
Josh guessed the fact that Cal had to think about it answered his question.
“Let me make nice with Dan,” Jesse said. “Go into the conference room for a while. Steve will bring in coffee.”
“Good luck,” Cal said to Jesse as they left his office.
“I’ll need it,” Jesse muttered. From his expression he could have been facing the firing squad, not his boyfriend.
Re-caffeinated, Josh tapped on his notebook and looked at Cal. They’d been in the conference room for a while, both absorbed in their own notes.
“Yes?” Cal murmured, not looking up from his iPad. He was wearing the glasses he’d had on the first time they met, confessing that he wore them most of the time. He’d just been embarrassed to in front of Josh. Josh smacked him around the head and produced his own glasses he wore for reading.
“We need to find Barton’s car.”
“The Merc?”
“It wasn’t at Brierley House.” Josh had checked on his return to Threadneedle Street.
“You’re thinking the killer drove Barton down, strung him up, and drove off in his car?”
“It’s a theory, although it’s risky. They must have known the alarm had been raised about Barton being missing.”
“How would he know? He could work at Barton and Wharlow. I’m thinking Eric Adlington, the PA, is a good candidate.” Cal turned to face Josh.
“His financials come back clean, apart from a minor gambling habit.”
“Horses?”
“Cards. Mr. Adlington is a poker player, but he keeps it under control.” Josh grinned wickedly. “Darryl managed to track down that £200 per month payment in Michaels’ financial records. Adlington had it, too. And Barton.”
Cal huffed. “Are you going to tell me this side of Christmas?”
“It seems the senior staff at Barton and Wharlow, apart from Brent Wharlow who disapproves of gambling because he’s a Christian something or other, had a syndicate. Only they didn’t want anyone to know about it.”
“Hence the company that didn’t exist,” Cal said thoughtfully.
“Darryl is sending us a list of who else is involved.”
“So it could be more than just Michaels.” Cal rubbed his forehead. “Shit; it’s bad enough to know Michaels is up to his eyeballs in this.”
Josh suddenly remembered that the agency was at risk. “Is this gonna take us down?”
To his relief Cal shook his head. “Ryan and Dominic are dealing with that. Financially, CDR is safe.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Josh said.
Cal barked out a laugh. “You can keep Mr. Truffles in over-priced tuna fish.”
“I don’t spoil him that much.” His protest was ruined by his snicker at the quirk of Cal’s eyebrow. “Well, maybe a little.”
Josh grinned at the thought of his cat, who was indeed spoiled rotten. Then he frowned and stared at Cal suspiciously. “How do you know I have a cat?”
Chapter 13
Sunday 27th November
If Josh hadn’t been staring into Cal’s eyes, he wouldn’t have seen it. He would’ve believed Cal’s off-hand, “I’m your employer, remember? I know all your guilty secrets.” But he was looking, and he did see the flash of guilt and maybe something else, momentarily there.
Josh shook his head. “No, I don’t believe you. The only people who should know about my cat are Gil and Landry because Mr. Truffles moved into my apartment all by himself. You know his name and what he eats.”
Cal flapped a hand as if it was unimportant. “They must’ve told me.”
“No, I don’t think so, Landry and Gil don’t know his name, and they sure as hell don’t give a shit about what he eats,” Josh said slowly, fucking horrified by what he was about to say. “Only one other person knows my cat’s name.”
“Josh—” Cal looked as distraught as he felt.
Josh had to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Charlie. You’re my Charlie.” He flinched away from Cal’s hand, ignoring the hurt in Cal’s eyes. “I’m so fucking stupid.”
“You’re not
stupid.”
“Yes, I am. I should’ve guessed when you rescued me. You called me Angel.”
“I did?” Cal blinked, a slow sweep of lashes over his green eyes. “A slip of the tongue. I didn’t even know.”
“And when I told you your secret was out. You thought I meant about being Charlie.”
Cal nodded slowly. “Yeah, I can’t deny that.”
“All this time. No wonder you knew me so well. Christ, Cal, Callum, Charlie, whatever your fucking name is. Why didn’t you tell me?” Josh’s chest was so tight; he could barely draw a breath. “Was I some big joke to you? Did you talk to your friends about this stupid queer in America who couldn’t even guess he was being played?” Josh pushed the chair back so violently it fell over.
Cal stood too. He reached out for Josh then dropped his hand, obviously thinking better of it. “It’s not like that,” he insisted. “I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t! I was undercover.” Josh nodded. He’d known, or at least guessed, that Charlie couldn’t talk about his life. “I shouldn’t have even talked to you. My handler was fucking furious when he discovered what I’d done. He insisted I stopped but you were the one bright thing in my whole fucking day. I needed you, Angel.”
“All those times you disappeared for weeks?”
Cal nodded. “Out in the field.”
“And now. You couldn’t tell me now?” Josh demanded.
“I was about to, but you dumped me… for me. I thought… I thought it would be best just to let it go. Even if I was a bit shocked at being dumped for a man you’d technically only just met.”
Josh didn’t appreciate the weak attempt at levity. “You’re a fucking idiot, Callum David Ross.”
“You’re angry at me.” Cal ought to have won a prize for stating the obvious.
“I had fucking feelings for you!” Josh’s voice rose dangerously. “You fucking played on that. All that fucking bull-crap about knowing me for two years. My God, I even told you how I liked to fuck. No wonder you hit all my buttons. Fuck!”
“Stop swearing at me,” Cal ordered. “I had—have—feelings for you too!”
The door to the conference room opened and Stephen looked in. “Is everything okay? I heard shouting.”