by J. P. Bowie
Dobson smiled faintly and gave Barney a tentative pat on the head.
Carrera took the cup of coffee from Joe and went to sit at the table. Joe joined them. “So, what’s up, guys?”
“How’s the shoulder?” Carrera asked while he placed a laptop on the table and booted it up.
“Getting there. They’re pulling out the staples tomorrow, so I should have a bit more mobility, but it’s feeling better every day.”
“Good,” Dobson said. “How well did you know Detective Murdoch?”
“Not well. We’d been partners for almost a month. He hadn’t had a partner for some time and Dan Cohen, my partner, retired.”
“In your statement you said you’d suspected that Murdoch had been dealing with drug pushers for some time. What made you suspicious?”
“I don’t know. This is going to sound weird, I guess, but there was something about the guy that just felt off. I sneaked a peek at his record and everything looked copacetic, but there was stuff…”
“What kind of stuff?” Carrera asked, looking up from his laptop.
“He had a lot of time out. Even in the month I worked with him, he only worked three weeks, and his arrest numbers were low. But what sparked my interest in whether he was dirty or not was the night before he shot me. We were called to a house where there had been a shooting. Drugs was the reason, and I saw Murdoch pulling one of the kids off to the side and really going at him. Good, I thought at first, he’s giving the kid the hard talk, but I got some kind of gut feeling, y’know, that there was more to it.
“He came over to me and while forensics were doing their thing said he wanted to let the kid go. Said he wasn’t involved in the shooting, had no record and it would hurt his studying for law school if he was arrested. I didn’t buy any of it, but I was curious, so I said okay, and the following night after our shift was over, I followed him and, sure enough, he met up with Martin Boyd.”
Joe shook his head remembering the incident. “That kid was never going near a law school. Talk about dumb. When I interrupted their little tête-à-tête the kid offered me cocaine if I’d just let him walk. He said Murdoch had coerced him into the deal, offering him protection for a sixty-forty split. He said Murdoch had dozens of pushers on his list and took money from them all.”
“And where was Murdoch when Boyd was telling you this?” Dobson asked.
“He was screaming at the kid to shut the fuck up, but the kid was high as a kite. Couldn’t have shut up to save his life. Murdoch shoved him down in front of me and I thought he was going to shoot both of us. He must’ve changed his mind. Guess he realized he needed help getting me in the trunk and he’d off him afterward. Which is what he did.”
“Do you have any idea why Murdoch would turn rogue?”
“Sergeant Moreno thinks he was worried about his retirement. I don’t agree. I think Murdoch had been on the take for years. He may have started out only meaning to razz a couple of low-life dealers, but when he got away with it and pushers would, however reluctantly, pay for protection, he got greedy.”
Dobson drummed his fingers on the table. “Why do you suppose his other two partners saw nothing the entire time they worked with him?”
“That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. It could be he was more careful with them, or he paid them to keep quiet. I don’t consider myself a super sleuth, but he smelled rotten to me.”
“Intuition,” Carrera said, looking up again from his laptop.
Joe nodded. “Could be, or just my gut telling me when something isn’t right.”
“Murdoch says you were a part of his racket,” Dobson said bluntly.
“He’s lying.”
“We talked to a couple of guys on his list. They remembered you being with Murdoch on a couple of occasions.”
“What?” Joe started to jump up from his chair, but the movement sent a jolt of pain through his shoulder and he dropped back down and waited for the pain to recede.
“You okay?” Carrera asked.
“Yeah…those guys are lying, too.”
“You willing to take a polygraph to prove that?”
Joe shook his head in disbelief. “Yes, of course.”
“We can do it right here, if you sign off on it,” Dobson said.
Joe nodded. “Go ahead.” He sat, seething, as Carrera hooked him up to his laptop and brought up the software on the screen.
“Try to relax,” Carrera said quietly. “We don’t want a false reading.”
“Okay.” Easy for you to say…
For the next twenty minutes, he answered the questions Dobson threw at him. When it was over, Carrera nodded at Dobson. “Never saw a cleaner test,” he said.
“I could’ve told you that,” Joe said, trying not to sound pissed. “Murdoch is a lying sack of shit and all he wants to do is smear me and anyone else he can.”
Carrera closed his laptop. “You could be right.”
“What does that mean?”
“We haven’t closed our investigation yet,” Dobson told him, unhooking the wires from Joe’s arm.
“You mean you suspect some other guy in the precinct?”
“We can’t talk about it,” Dobson snapped.
“Let me ask you something. Did Sam Baker pass his polygraph?”
“Who?” Dobson gave him an irritated look.
“Sam Baker,” Joe repeated while Agent Carrera re-opened his laptop. His fingers flew over the keyboard and he gave a satisfied grunt.
“Baker, Samuel,” he muttered. “Yep, passed.”
“Why do you ask?” Dobson didn’t look happy.
“Just a gut feeling he’s the man who was working with Murdoch.”
“Based on what?”
“Based on nothing really. Just a feeling.”
“Not helpful,” Dobson snapped.
“The same kind of feeling you had about Murdoch?” Carrera asked.
Joe smiled. “That’s it.”
“Well, thanks for your time, Detective, and we hope you’re back on the job real soon.” Barney padded along behind Dobson as he made for the door.
“I think he’s taken a shine to you,” Joe said, grinning. “But you can’t have him.”
Dobson gave him a stiff smile, but he did bend to tickle Barney’s ears before he left.
“Well, Barney, what d’you make of all that?” he said after closing the door behind the two Agents. “Looks like you almost melted that stick up his ass. Almost, but not quite.”
* * * *
Riley looked at the text he’d just received and cursed under his breath. Miles…when is he ever going to get over this obsession with trying to get back in my life? Maybe I should have Joe call him and tell him to fuck off.
“Problem?” Brett put an arm around Riley’s shoulder and tried to peer at the text. “You look like you want to punch someone on the nose.”
Riley held his phone up so Brett could read the text. He whistled through his teeth as he scanned it. “Wow, this guy is going off the deep end.”
“I don’t know what the heck’s got into him,” Riley moaned. “Over a month now and he won’t stop no matter if I ignore him, or text him back and tell him to quit bugging me.”
“He’s got it bad.”
“But it’s all phony, Brett.” Riley sighed impatiently. “He says he’s lonely, and I know I should feel bad about that, but I really don’t want him back in my life. Not after the way he treated me. How much of a fool does he think I am? All he’ll do is set me up to let me down. I don’t need that again.”
“Especially now you have a hunky cop in your life.”
Riley grinned. “Yeah, there is that, and I think Joe is up for us getting serious. He is so nice.”
“And hung?”
“Not going there, Brett.”
“Yes, you are.” Brett cackled and waggled his eyebrows. “As many times as you can, I bet.”
Riley couldn’t help laughing. “You are a nasty guy. You need to find someone of your o
wn so you don’t have to live vicariously through your friends.”
“Not me. I’m better off single-o and living vicariously.” He laughed. “How’s he doing, anyway? His shoulder healing well?”
Riley nodded. “Better since they removed the staples, but I have to warn him he still has to take it easy and do whatever the physical therapist tells him. He’s doing desk duty at the precinct and I know it’s driving him nuts not being out on a case.”
“What happened to the cop who shot him?”
“He’s in state prison awaiting his trial. Apparently, he tried to muddy the waters a bit, involve other guys at the precinct. So far no one else has been arrested, which is good. I think Joe would be pretty upset if any of his colleagues were a part of the racket.”
“I bet. Okay…” Brett gave him a quick hug. “See you day after tomorrow. Enjoy your day off. Hey,” he added as he walked backward away from Riley, “we should all get together one of these nights for a beer or something when your boyfriend’s feeling up for it.”
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to him about it.”
Brett waved. “Ciao, baby.”
“Ciao.”
Riley smiled as he walked through the parking lot to his car. Tonight was going to be a big night over at Joe’s and he couldn’t wait to see him. His good mood continued until he reached his parking space outside his apartment.
Miles…what the hell? For a moment he was tempted to back out of his spot and drive away, but he had Champ to feed and walk and he had to shower… Fuck! He got out of his car and slowly walked to where Miles stood leaning against the security gate as if he had every right in the world to be there. He was dressed down for a change, wearing pressed jeans and a wrinkle-free UCLA T-shirt. Riley was so pissed he almost couldn’t answer Miles’ cheery “Hi!”
If he goes for a hug, so help me, I will punch him on the nose.
“Miles, what are you doing here?”
He gave Riley a toothy smile. “I came to see you, of course.”
“Why? I thought I’d made it clear as day that I didn’t want to see you after you jumped me in that parking lot. What, you’re here for another go? Let me warn you that this time I’m prepared for any sneak attacks you have in mind.”
The smile faded from Miles’ face. “You said you’d forgiven me for that.”
“I have, but I also told you to move on…without me.”
“But if you’d just let me explain.”
“Miles, I am not interested in your explanations. I have moved on. You asked me if I was seeing someone and the answer is yes. I have a boyfriend and it’s serious between us and…” He glanced at his watch. “Wait here.”
“You’re not going to ask me in?”
“No, I’m not going to ask you in.” The last thing he wanted was to be in an enclosed space with Miles after what he’d pulled. “I have to go get Champ and take him for a walk. You can join us if you like. I’ll be right back.” He opened the door to his apartment and quickly closed it behind him. “Hey, boy…”
He got down on his knees to make a fuss of Champ when he bounded at him, tail wagging like mad. “Good boy. We’re going walkies, and Miles is out there. Remember him? But don’t worry. He’s not staying.” He chuckled as Champ stared at him like he understood every word and his tail actually drooped. “Yeah, that’s how I felt when I saw him out there. C’mon… I’ll get your food out when we get back.”
Miles’ expression was far from sunny when they came out of the apartment. “I can’t believe you didn’t ask me in,” he whined. “After I drove all this way.”
“Don’t start that again, Miles. Say hi to Champ.”
“Why? He never liked me.”
“Doesn’t look like much has changed.” Riley patted Champ as the dog leaned into his leg, not going near Miles. A suspicion crossed Riley’s mind. “Did you hit him or something when we were together? I’ve never seen him act this way, even with strangers.”
“Of course I didn’t.” It was said in such an offhand way that Riley didn’t believe him.
“You know, maybe this walk isn’t such a good idea. Why don’t you just go?”
“What?” Miles look as if he might implode. “After I drove—”
“Stop with that, you’re beginning to sound like a broken record.”
“Listen to me, you little shit!” He took a step toward Riley but froze when Champ growled and barked out a warning.
“Miles, you need to get some anger management help.” Riley placed a calming hand on Champ’s head and stroked him gently. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently, but after what you pulled a couple of weeks ago I don’t want you coming down here making any more trouble. Maybe you were always like this and I loved you too much to see it, but that was then. Now, please go, okay?”
He walked away, Champ trotting at his side. For a moment or two he expected to hear running feet behind them, but when he turned to see if Miles was following them, he had disappeared. Riley breathed a sigh of relief. He could only hope that this time was the last he’d have to deal with Miles the maleficent.
Walking back after Champ had tired himself out chasing squirrels in the park, he was a few yards from the apartment when he noticed the back of his Kia seemed low. Oh no… Oh yes. His two back tires were flatter than pancakes. No need to wonder who was responsible. That bastard… Seething, he led Champ inside. Shit…
Of course, he had just the one spare like everyone else and the nearby service station would be closed by now. Nothing for it but to Uber up to Joe’s and deal with the mess in the morning. No way could he afford two new tires if they were too badly damaged to repair. Well, there was always the bus or Brett could give him a lift.
Miles…you are one sorry s.o.b. but you are not going to ruin this night for me. He poured Champ’s kibble into his bowl and freshened up his water before getting ready to take a shower. One thing for certain, Miles had effectively killed any chance of them ever being friends again. Which was just as well, he mused. The guy was not dealing with a full deck. Who knew what other crap he was capable of. Riley shuddered. No way did he want to find out.
* * * *
Miles watched from his car a block away to see how Riley would react to his tires being flattened. He felt a tiny twinge of regret when Riley just stood there staring at his car, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped in seeming despair. Yeah, it had been a shitty thing to do, but Riley had pissed him off again.
It’s as if he’s deliberately going out of his way to put me down each time I reach out to him. And making me wait outside while he went in to get that goddamn dog… That’s going to be hard to forgive. I don’t think he realized just how hurt…and angry I was about that. He smirked. Well, maybe he does now. Getting those tires fixed will be a giant pain in the ass if nothing else.
He waited until Riley went back inside his apartment then started the engine and pulled slowly away from the curb. As he drove up the Canyon road toward the freeway, an unsettling feeling of emptiness slid over him and made him start to regret what he’d just done. But there was no way to undo it. All he could do was apologize…again, and it would probably be harder for Riley to forgive him this time.
Shit, why is it always me that has to apologize? Why does he turn everything I say to him into a reason to shut me down? I should tell him to go fuck himself…but he’s my only hope to get back on my feet again. Surely I still mean something to him? Did those years we spent together mean so little that he’s willing to just throw it away without at least giving me another chance?
He cursed and hit the steering wheel in frustration. He needed a place to stay, and fast. The hostel he was sleeping in just wouldn’t do. He’d never envisaged having to share a room with the kind of creeps that inhabited the place, but it was all he could afford and his credit cards were near maxed out. This is all asshole Kyle’s fault for getting caught with his fingers in the till. If he’d been more careful he wouldn’t be in jail and I wouldn’t be in this pos
ition of practically having to beg Riley to take me back. Maybe that’s what I need to do…beg.
Right… He’d been approaching this the wrong way, showing his frustration at Riley’s reticence. What he needed to do was to appear contrite instead of challenging. Riley had always been a soft touch. Miles just needed to appeal to that forgiving side of him…and once he was in the door, he could put the brakes on Riley’s sudden need for independence. He’d give him a little time to cool down, then put on an act of contrition that would get him back in Riley’s good graces, but, more importantly, back in his life.
Chapter Thirteen
Joe checked his reflection in the bathroom mirror after his shower. Apart from the darned dressing over his shoulder, he didn’t look too bad. Except he had hoped for better than ‘not too bad’. He wanted this night to be memorable for Riley and he hoped he wasn’t trying too hard, but, boy, he wanted it to be terrific…sensational…mind-blowing…at least enough that he’d want to come back for more.
After his session with Agents Dobson and Carrera, he wanted a total change of pace and scenery, and Riley’s beautiful face and body would be just the ticket.
He dressed, choosing something loose and easy to remove, a lightweight T-shirt and baggy lounge pants. Riley had already seen and admired his ass, so there was no need to flaunt it…or maybe there was? Hopefully he’d lose the lounge pants pretty quick, so, okay, he’d keep the pants. Mumbling to himself that he wasn’t nervous or anything, he walked into the kitchen and set the table for the light dinner he’d ordered from a deli in town that delivered. That, along with the nice crisp Chardonnay in the fridge, should set the mood for the evening.
Barney’s excited woof told him Riley was almost at the door. He swung it open and let his dog and his boyfriend say their over-the-top hellos then grabbed Riley, hooked his good arm around him and planted a hot kiss on his lips.
“Mmm…” Riley opened to him right away, tangling his tongue with Joe’s and, as he always did, driving him slightly delirious.
“What’s that hard thing between us?” he asked, panting. “Doesn’t feel like you.”
