Chapter Eight
The hours ticked on.
Cliff had to force Paul to go home. Even Ryan roused from his exhausted state to push him.
“Paul, man. It’s okay. I know you want to be here, and I appreciate it, but you need to go home. You have to be ready in the morning to catch these fucking bastards.”
Cliff pulled him away to speak privately.
“Are you sure?” Paul asked. “You know I’ll stay with you until you hear something.”
“And I love you for it, but you’re exhausted and have to be back at it early in the morning. I’m going to stay until Shelby comes out of surgery. I want Ryan to have someone with him.”
Paul’s eyes flickered over to the waiting room. “Looks like Joshua is there for Ryan as well.”
Cliff had also noticed the man’s obvious interest. “Maybe so, but I’m staying. I think he’s more connected to Shelby than even he understands, and he needs me.”
“I know how he feels.” Paul’s hand traced a path down Cliff’s cheek. “And I’m so damn lucky to have you.”
Cliff covered Paul’s hand with his and gave a brief squeeze. “I’ll see you later.” He returned to the waiting area and took the seat next to Ryan.
“Paul go home finally?”
Ryan sat with his shirt smeared with ash. His eyes were red-rimmed and drooped, his jaw tense with fear.
“Yeah. I told him I’d stay until Shelby comes out of surgery.”
“Whenever the fuck that’ll be. It’s been almost three hours.”
“It could take even longer,” Joshua interjected in his quiet voice. “I once dated a surgeon, and he could be in surgery for eight or nine hours.”
“Damn.”
Cliff checked his watch and saw it was almost three thirty in the morning. They’d taken Shelby in at twelve thirty, so hopefully they’d hear something soon.
“So what brought you and your family to Thornwood Park, Joshua?” It surprised him to find out the man had left New York City to move to their sleepy small town.
“I didn’t have anything keeping me in the city. I’d broken up with someone after a long-term relationship and wasn’t feeling anyone else. My family and I are close, and they want me to take over their business when they retire. So when they discussed moving down here, I figured why not?” Joshua finished his third coffee in as many hours and tossed the cup into the trash. “I think if I have any more caffeine, I’ll burn a hole in my stomach.”
“So you like it here? Up until tonight, I mean, of course.”
Joshua glanced over at Ryan, who sat frozen, staring at the door to the waiting room as if by the sheer force of his will, someone would come in to tell them anything. He’d talked to his parents and assured them he was all right, but Cliff wasn’t so sure.
“Yeah. Everyone’s been pretty welcoming. It’s been an adjustment, of course, but I’m not going to let some bigoted assholes drive me out.”
“It’s never been a problem here before. Thornwood Park has moved slowly, it’s true, but it’s always been welcoming for everyone. I don’t understand what’s happening. But Paul and Rob will figure it out. They’re the best.”
Joshua remained silent for a moment. “So, what do you do? You’re not a fireman like Ryan, right?”
Happy to change the subject, Cliff shook his head. “I manage the Starrywood Hotel downtown.”
“Oh, wow. That’s a nice place. When we looked at houses, we stayed there.”
“Thanks. It’s demanding, but I enjoy meeting people from all over the country. We have a lot of conventions.”
“Yeah, my parents are participating in the estate jewelry auction you’re having there next month. They were excited to become part of the community.”
“Your store was robbed too, I heard? But you weren’t there, it was overnight?”
“Yeah.” Joshua’s eyes flashed dark. “I’d like to get my hands on the bastards who ripped us off. My parents spent years building up their business, and to have this happen is bullshit.”
“Well, I know the police are taking it all very seriously. We don’t have much crime here, but lately there have been signs of more insidious stuff.”
His brow raised, Joshua leaned forward. “Like what?”
“I’m not sure yet, but my windows were shot out this morning—well, yesterday morning now—and I can’t be sure it wasn’t a neighbor who doesn’t like me because I’m gay.”
“Bastards. But you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I got the window replaced and everything. And they’re checking to see if it’s connected to the recent uptick in crime.”
Before Joshua could respond, a doctor entered the waiting room. His scrubs were soaked through with sweat, and his brow was furrowed with exhaustion.
“Are you with Shelby Groves?”
As if electrified, Ryan jumped out of his seat. “Yes, me. I’m with Shelby.”
The doctor blinked. “Are you family?”
“I’m…I’m his boyfriend.”
Cliff put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder to give him support.
“I’m sorry, but unless you’re his immediate family or registered domestic partner, I can’t give you any information.” He turned to leave, but Ryan wouldn’t allow it. Cliff knew his friend.
“Doctor, please.” Ryan’s voice broke. “I was with him when he collapsed. I’ve been here all night. I’m a firefighter. Can’t you tell me anything?”
The doctor stopped, and he and Ryan held each other’s gazes. The man’s steely facade softened. “He’s still critical. That’s all I can say.”
He left, and Cliff held Ryan, who gripped him tight. “He’ll be okay. He’s strong and fit. He’ll pull through, and before you know it, you’ll be together, dancing again.”
“You don’t get it.” Ryan buried his face in Cliff’s shoulder for a moment, then pulled away. “Thanks, Cliff. You should go home.”
“What about you? I can take you before I go home.”
Ryan stood swaying on his feet, one step away from falling down.
Joshua took his arm. “How about I drive you home? You’re in no shape to drive, that’s for sure.”
Ryan let out a horrible-sounding laugh. “I didn’t bring my car. Shelby and I came together. Thanks.” Ryan turned and held Cliff tightly again for a moment. “I love you. Thank you for being here with me. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
With his head bent and Joshua’s arm draped over his shoulder, Ryan walked out. Cliff had never seen Ryan in such a state, and he sent a quick prayer for Shelby. With the lateness of the hour, Cliff encountered no traffic, and in less than twenty minutes he was walking in through his front door. Paul had left a living-room lamp on, and he flicked the switch off on his way to the bedroom. He paused at the door to view Paul sleeping curled on his side, one strong, tanned shoulder exposed from under the comforter.
Cliff only took the time to brush his teeth before shedding his clothes and sliding in next to Paul. He didn’t realize how wiped out he was until he laid his head on the pillow. Warm lips touched the back of his neck.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
“I’m glad I am too.”
Paul slung a sleep-heavy arm around him, and they slept.
* * *
Seven o’clock came brutally early for Cliff, and he groaned when the alarm went off. Paul, already dressed, stood at the foot of the bed and chuckled.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Ugh, my eyes feel like sand.”
“What time did you get in, like four?” The mattress dipped as he sat next to Cliff.
“Yeah.” Cliff yawned through his words. “Shelby is in critical condition, but they won’t give any information to Ryan because he’s not immediate family.”
“I’m not surprised.” Paul kissed his cheek, and Cliff drew in a deep breath, inhaling his scent.
“God, you smell good.”
“Plain old soap and water.”
“There’s nothi
ng plain about anything you do, Paul Monroe.” Cliff rubbed their cheeks for a moment. “I’m going to go brush my teeth.”
“You better,” Paul said, blue eyes twinkling. “I need to kiss you, but not with morning breath.” He fanned his hand in front of his face, and Cliff poked him.
“Bastard.”
Losing the smile, Paul stood, took his hand, and pulled him up to hold him close. “I’m only kidding. After yesterday and last night, I’m not taking anything for granted.”
Cliff’s heart pounded. “What’re you talking about?”
“It could’ve been you and me there last night. And I thought about what that would’ve meant, having to hide myself. Hide you.” He shook his head, and Cliff alternated between wanting to grab and kiss Paul and not touch him, knowing how momentous a decision this was for him. “I think it’s time.”
Cliff kissed him. “You do whatever you think is right. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
“I know.” He squeezed Cliff’s ass. “Now go brush your teeth.”
Laughing, Cliff did as asked, and joined Paul in the kitchen, where they each had a bowl of cereal. Paul returned to the bedroom to unlock his gun and badge from the lockbox; then Cliff watched him slip on his suit jacket and pick up his keys from the bowl.
“I’ll call you later.”
“Okay. I’ll be in a few meetings this morning. We have to go over the convention schedule.”
“No problem.” Paul brushed his lips over Cliff’s. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
Cliff heard Paul’s car start and then drive away. He finished his coffee and called Ryan, who picked up on the first ring.
“Hey.”
“What’s up? Did you sleep at all?”
Ryan huffed out a heavy breath. “Not really.”
“And I’ll bet you’re already at the hospital.” A check of the clock showed eight a.m. “Any change?”
“No, he’s still in ICU. They won’t tell me anything, but his mother is here.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Seems his parents pretty much ignored his existence once he came out, but now, when he almost died, they remembered him.”
Cliff’s heart squeezed. “I get it. Had Shelby said if he’d tried to get close to them? Did he want a relationship?”
“He did at first, but when they gave up on him, so did he. His sister’s the only one in his family to stay in touch with him.”
All this information was proving the point to Cliff that Shelby was much more than a hookup for Ryan. “Was that why he left Silver Valley and the police department there?”
“That and his heart.”
“Oh. Did his mother speak to you?”
“She gave me the once-over and said, ‘Thank you for bringing him in,’ but that was it.”
“I’m sorry, Ry. I’m heading into work now, but call me and let me know what’s going on, please?”
“I will. And thank you for everything last night. You and Paul. It made it so much better to have you there.”
“Always.”
“Talk to you later. I’m going to try and be nice to his mother.”
“Good luck. Love you.”
“Same.”
As Cliff walked out the front door to his car, a dog came racing from across the street, barking its head off. Alarmed, Cliff climbed into the car and slammed the door as the huge animal, some kind of mutt, began to jump at his window, growling.
“Shit.” He started the car, hoping the noise would drive the animal away, and while the dog did retreat to Cliff’s front lawn, the large form of Travis now blocked his exit. He crossed his arms, the sleeveless undershirt he wore exposing a multitude of tattoos running up and down their lengths.
“Is that your dog, Travis? You need to keep him locked up or on a leash.”
“Why? You gonna call your big, bad cop boyfriend on me?” Letting out a hard laugh, Travis spit on the ground. “I’d like to see you try.”
Cliff’s eyes narrowed. “Go spit on your own property. I’m not afraid of you.”
He put his car in reverse to back up, but not before Travis grabbed the half-open window. “I thought you’d be at the queer club last night with your cop boyfriend. Too bad.”
“Too bad about what?” Chilly fear rippled through Cliff. “What do you know about it?”
Travis spit again, and Cliff’s stomach turned over.
“I don’t know nothin’ except it’s too bad it didn’t get the job done.”
“You’re a sick fuck, Travis. You hate gay people so much, you’d rather see them burn in a fire than live their lives?”
“Well, I don’t know. Wouldn’t want to see your pretty ass hurt, now.”
Something dark traveled over Travis’s face, and Cliff didn’t wait for him to step away from the car. He put his foot to the gas pedal and sped away. His hands shook on the wheel, and despite the air-conditioning, sweat beaded on his face.
By the time he arrived at work, he’d settled down. He fell into his usual frenzied schedule and forgot about Travis’s unsettling words. The jewelry convention had signed their contract, and he was working on finalizing the setup for the book convention, which had been the one where he and Paul reconnected.
What a difference from then until now.
He couldn’t help laughing when he realized that he and Paul had met thanks to a romance book convention. How ironic was life?
His phone rang, and his heart leaped when he saw Ryan’s number. He snatched the phone off his desk.
“Ry? What’s happening?”
“Can you come now? Please? I really need you.”
Cold seeped through him. “I’m on my way.”
Chapter Nine
All the way to the station that morning, Paul went over the different ways he planned to approach Kraft. He pulled into a parking space and sat, gripping the steering wheel. It shouldn’t be this way. His determined steps brought him across the parking lot and inside the precinct, where instead of heading to the bullpen and his desk, he turned down the hallway to Kraft’s office.
“Morning, Marcia. Is he in? I need to talk with him.”
“Hi, Paul. Yes. He’s on the phone with the mayor, but I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thanks,” he said, giving her a nod.
“Oh, hold on.” She pointed to her desk phone. “He’s off.” She picked up the phone, and after a few words, hung up. “Go right in.”
Damn. This soon? Heart pounding, Paul managed a tight smile. “Thanks.” He stood before the closed door to Kraft’s office, closed his eyes shut for a second, then knocked.
“Come in.”
A grim-faced Kraft greeted him. “Come on in, Paul.” He peered over Paul’s shoulder. “Where’s your other half?”
A quick smile came and went. “This is personal, sir.”
Kraft’s silver brows rose. “Oh? Well, take a seat.”
Paul perched halfway in the straight-backed chair in front of Kraft’s desk. From the credenza, the smiling faces of Kraft’s wife and children faced him, along with the various political pictures of Kraft with the mayor and the governor.
Paul laced his fingers together. “Sir. You received my report about that shooting at the house on Magnolia Circle yesterday. Where the front window was shattered?”
Kraft’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I read it. It was that hotel manager who was involved in the death of that bartender almost two years ago. The one who was hurt. Paul, I thought you said this was personal.”
“It’s my house too. I live there. With Cliff Baxter.” Paul lifted his chin, his gaze meeting Kraft’s stunned one.
“I…see. Well, do you think this is compromising the investigation in any way?”
“No, sir. Not at all. I would never let that happen.”
“I wouldn’t think so. I appreciate your telling me.”
“Of course, sir.”
Kraft ceased mangling the paper clip he held between his fingers. “You’re invest
igating the fire at the Wild Orchid as well?”
“Yes. We’re beginning to think there may be a connection between the jewelry store robbery, the other break-ins on Main Street, the shooting at my home, and the fire last night. And the Curry Spot received a threatening note.”
Kraft’s brow furrowed. “Refresh my memory?”
“It was a picture of an Iron Cross with a skull inside it.” Paul’s stomach soured. “The jewelry-store owner’s son noticed a customer he had an altercation with had a tattoo like that.” He hesitated. “I’ve received two threatening notes as well, both saying, ‘I see you.’ I can’t say they are related, but we’re not ruling anything out.”
Kraft sucked in a breath. “Bulldog, you didn’t think to come and notify me you’ve been threatened?” His face darkened. “Was it because of what you just told me? Did you think my opinion of you would change or that I’d be less inclined to want a full investigation?”
“It never occurred to me you wouldn’t want a complete and thorough investigation.”
Kraft’s troubled expression remained. “But you were concerned about revealing your personal life.”
Paul struggled to maintain his composure. “Wouldn’t you be? No offense, sir, but last night might’ve turned out to be a horrific loss of life if the fire department hadn’t made it to the scene as quickly as they did. And what for? Because people wanted to have a good time?” He shook his head. “I can’t wrap my mind around it, but it forced me to realize that I can’t and won’t hide who I am. Not anymore, whatever the ramifications.” Sweat trickled down his back and dampened his underarms.
“There won’t be any ramifications. Not in my department. Not ever. You’re one of the best damn detectives I’ve ever had, Paul, and I defy anyone to come and tell me otherwise.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it more than you can possibly know. I’m not looking for compliments or accolades. All I want is to be able to live my life like everyone else.”
“You should. And I intend to make sure you’ll continue to.”
Death Comes to Main Street (The Paul Monroe Mysteries Book 3) Page 7
