Diagnosis: Death (The Paul Monroe Mysteries Book 2)

by A. P. Eisen

  Cars meant little to Paul except as a means to get him where he needed to go. “Thanks, Manny.”

  “No problem. Talk to you later.”

  He hung up the phone and booted up his computer. “Manny sent us Ulrich’s calendar. Let’s take a look at what the doctor was up to.”

  An hour later, Paul pushed away from the desk, rubbing his eyes and muttering, “I swear I’m gonna go blind from this job one day.”

  “Don’t worry, Paulie. You’ll look distinguished with glasses. I’ll bet Cliff likes the professor look.” Rob cackled and finished off his coffee.

  Flipping off Rob, Paul ran down the list he’d made. “So Dr. Dean found himself a new trainer at the gym and…” He cross-checked something. “It looks like another lover. Same MO. Meeting at the Starrywood. Started out at once a week, then increased as the weeks went on. I’m guessing this time Mrs. Ulrich wasn’t invited.”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking not,” Rob said. “Shane Callahan. Ulrich used the initials SC every time they’d meet.”

  “Mmhmm. Okay.” Paul’s stomach growled. “What the hell time is it?”

  “Seven fifteen. Damn. We’ve been on the run all day. I’m starving.”

  A twinge of guilt hit him. He’d meant to, if not call Cliff, at least text him during the day to say hello, but time got away from him, and now it was late.

  “Annabel have dinner waiting?”

  “No, it’s her book-club night, so the babysitter stays late. Want to grab a burger at the Tavern, or do you and Cliff have plans?”

  The plans he’d had went out the window that morning. At that time of night, Cliff was probably not in the mood to come to him, and after his own long-ass day, Paul would have to go home, shower, change, and go out again. The mere idea exhausted him. He’d call Cliff later and they’d talk, and he’d make it up to him another day.

  “No, no plans. A burger sounds good to me.”

  When he walked into the Tavern and Rob told him Cliff was there, Paul froze and remained in his chair. But he couldn’t ignore Cliff. Paul knew how much Cliff wanted him to meet his friends—especially his best friend, Ryan. It was something they’d discussed, and for months they’d tried to work it out, but something always came up on Paul’s end. Paul figured he’d have time.

  Tonight, time ran out.

  Cliff made the introductions to everyone, and Paul greeted the men, but his focus remained steadily on Cliff. He had no intention of putting on a show of his personal feelings—it wasn’t his nature—but he and Cliff were three months into this relationship, and though Paul was feeling his way around in the dark, it was never more apparent to him than at that moment Cliff needed a sign that Paul was there for him.

  “I have nothing else to do, right?”

  The tone of Cliff’s voice had hit him like a punch in the gut. He didn’t want to hurt Cliff. He should have called. And he didn’t want to avoid this anymore. The need to be with Cliff and the desire to stop hiding outweighed any fear of coming out.

  Fear went on hiatus.

  So he did what he wanted to and kissed Cliff. In front of everyone.

  Funny enough, the world kept spinning and he kept breathing.

  When he returned to his table, Rob handed him a whiskey and held up his beer. “Good job. How do you feel?”

  He had no idea.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  At midnight, Cliff let himself into Paul’s apartment. The rest of the night had found him answering questions from his friends, which he did to an extent, but without speaking to Paul first, Cliff had no intention of revealing details of their relationship. All afternoon and evening he’d been feeling hurt and a bit ignored, but seeing Paul’s and Rob’s rumpled appearances, his annoyance faded in the face of their obvious exhaustion. Cliff knew how focused and dedicated Paul was when working a case. He’d seen it firsthand during the investigation into Jerry’s murder. Nothing and no one distracted Paul from accomplishing the end goal, which was getting the person who committed the crime. He had to remind himself to stop mooning like a teenager and act more like a grown-ass man.

  Fully expecting Paul to be in bed when he walked inside, Cliff couldn’t help but smile at seeing him stretched out on the couch with the television still on. He’d obviously made a valiant effort to stay awake. Cliff turned off the set, then bent to give him a kiss on the cheek. To his surprise, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him on top of a very awake and very hard Paul.

  “Guess that answers the question of whether you’re happy to see me.” Cliff kissed Paul’s delicious-smelling neck, and the rumbling growl from Paul sent tingling shivers through him.

  “I’d be happier if you were naked.” Paul rocked his pelvis. “Let’s go.”

  A chilling thought ran through Cliff, and he sat up. “How about we talk first?” Was Paul anxious to see him, or was it the sex he was after? After three months of seeing each other almost every day, Cliff knew that for him, the signs were pointing toward deepening feelings, but Paul had never been in a relationship. Was it as real for him, or was it merely the availability of sex on demand? Cliff desperately wanted it to be the first, but he’d been burned before. Still, Paul kissing him in front of everyone, in a public place, had been a momentous step. It had to mean something.

  “Talk? That’s what you want to do?” At Paul’s querulous tone, Cliff had to bite back a smile.

  “Yeah.” He kissed Paul’s cheek and separated himself from him. “I think we should, given what happened tonight. I thought it was pretty special.”

  Under Paul’s roughened stubble, a flush stained his cheeks. “I did too,” he said, his soft voice in direct contrast to his hardened features.

  “What made you do it?” Cliff kicked off his shoes and settled on the couch. “I didn’t expect it, and I hope you know I wasn’t forcing your hand.”

  “No. It wasn’t anything like that.” Paul reclined and crossed his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. “I got tired, I guess.”

  “Tired?”

  “Of hiding. Of worrying and overthinking every move I make around you. When I make a decision on a case, it’s because I’ve researched and looked at every angle before concluding I was right in my thought process. I don’t second-guess myself at work, and I wanted that same thought process to carry through to my personal life.”

  “That’s a lot of words, Detective. I think what you’re saying is that you trust your gut with what’s between us?”

  “I trust a lot more than that. I was trying to show you before you started talking.”

  That subtle humor of Paul’s was always a turn-on, and Cliff couldn’t help but smile. “It was a really big deal for you to kiss me in front of everyone. I know how hard it was, and I want you to know I’m incredibly proud of how brave you were to do that in a public place.”

  “Rob asked me how I felt afterward, and it took me a while to figure it out. I guess the best way to describe it is like coming up out of deep water and taking a breath. The pressure in my chest, all that weight and heaviness are gone.”

  Cliff reached out with his foot and rubbed Paul’s leg. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

  “I know it’s not everything. I still haven’t said anything to anyone at work, other than Rob. But showing your friends seemed more important. I know Ryan was giving you shit about me.”

  Cliff winced. “He knows what I went through with Lincoln, and I swore to never get involved again with a closeted man. He was afraid I was starting that pattern all over again.”

  Paul nodded. “Fair enough.” He yawned and ran his hands over his face. “What time is it, anyway?”

  “After midnight.”

  A grimace touched Paul’s lips. “I have to be up at seven. Lots to look into with this case.”

  “We can spend our time talking about murder and death, or I can take you to bed. Which will it be?” Cliff unwound his legs from Paul’s and stood, gazing down at him.

  Paul remained
lying on the couch, but a dark, hungry light kindled in his eyes. “Unless that’s a trick question, there’s really only one answer.” He jumped to his feet, and Cliff pressed up against him, their mouths meeting in a hot, wet tangle of tongues.

  Paul led the way through the darkened apartment to his bedroom. Cliff stripped off his jeans, polo, underwear, and socks while Paul got the condom and lube out and removed his T-shirt and boxers. At the sight of Paul’s glittering eyes and thick cock jutting out, Cliff joined him on the bed, and they held on to each other, their limbs fitting perfectly together. Cliff reached down, grasped both their erections in his hand, and began to pump. Hot, soft skin sliding over steely strength. Cliff tightened his grip, and Paul groaned.

  “Not enough…need to be inside you.”

  A tug of desire pulled low in Cliff’s belly; he let go and lay back, legs spread wide. The click of the bottle of lube sounded loud in the quiet room, and Cliff waited in almost nervous anticipation, as if this night was different from the others he’d been with Paul.

  Cool, slick fingers slid around his rim, and then one slipped inside him, sinking all the way in past the knuckle. It wasn’t enough. As always when it came to sex with Paul, Cliff needed more…needed everything. And somehow Paul knew. He added another finger, and his touch both settled Cliff and created an internal havoc of lust and need.

  “Please, Paul.”

  Perhaps it was the public kiss, but Paul seemed more forceful, more certain, and Cliff watched as he rolled on the condom and teased him by rubbing the wide head of his cock around the sensitive opening of his anus. The first few weeks after they’d gotten together, Paul had fallen on him, holding him tight during sex, almost as if he couldn’t believe they were together. Only the last few times had he begun to open up as a bed partner, venturing to explore more of Cliff’s body and his own.

  “You like that?” He flexed his hips and rubbed the length of his hard cock over Cliff’s ass. “Feels good?”

  “Yeah, but inside would be better.”

  “So eager.” Taking him by surprise, Paul pushed inside him, and Cliff moaned at the welcoming mix of burn and pleasure as Paul stretched him full. The taste of Paul’s skin on his lips and the motion of his body never failed to excite Cliff. He dug his fingers into Paul’s muscular back and rocked his pelvis as Paul flexed and rolled his hips, thrusting into him at an increasingly fast pace.

  Paul’s mouth latched on to his, and the bed slammed into the wall. Cliff sucked Paul’s tongue, greedy to hold all pieces of Paul inside him. His body lit up as Paul hit his prostate mercilessly, over and over again, rendering him almost incoherent.

  “Ahh, ahhh, yeah.” Cliff grabbed hold of his cock, trapped between their sweating torsos, and pumped himself to orgasm in only a few hard strokes. Paul gritted his teeth as Cliff tightened his muscles and held on to Paul’s cock, buried deep inside his throbbing body.

  “Fucking hell.”

  Paul shook almost violently and came, his breath whistling past Cliff’s ear as he collapsed on top of him. The thunder of Paul’s heart pounded against his own. Tonight had been different, an almost desperate need to connect, and while Cliff was still unwilling to voice his feelings, he knew in his heart he was falling pretty damn hard for Paul Monroe.

  He found Paul gazing at him with a dazed expression.

  “You alive?”

  “Barely.” Paul grunted and slowly pulled out, took off the condom, and tossed it into the garbage pail. He flopped onto the bed with his arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “You?”

  “Same. I’m still waiting for my heart to settle down to normal.”

  As had become his usual position when Paul was with him, Cliff curled against his broad chest.

  “Where did you all go after dinner?” Paul asked.

  “Hmm?” Cliff drew lazy patterns across the taut cords of Paul’s abdomen. “Oh, the Wild Orchid opened a dance club, so the guys wanted to check it out.”

  “And you? Did you want to check it out? Did you dance?”

  It took Cliff a moment to register the meaning behind Paul’s quietly asked question. Bruised shadows that hadn’t been there in the morning darkened Paul’s eyes, and Cliff’s heart tightened.

  “I had a drink and watched.” He pressed his lips to Paul’s shoulder. “Why?”

  Paul’s fingers twirled through his hair. “I don’t like the thought of you with anyone else.”

  “Then don’t think it.” Cliff’s eyes fluttered shut. “Because it’s not going to happen.”

  * * *

  Paul woke him at seven with a kiss, and Cliff rolled over to see his muscular, naked body still wet from the shower. “I have to get in early. Check to see if the lab reports are back and talk to the ME.”

  Cliff scrubbed his face and yawned. “Okay. I can get dressed and go home—”

  “No,” Paul interrupted him. “Don’t rush on my account. I like the thought of you here. It’s your day off. Stay as long as you want.”

  “Okay.” He lay on his side and watched Paul dry off and get dressed. Was there anything sexier than seeing a man you’d just had sex with clip on his badge and holster his gun? Not in his lifetime, Cliff decided.

  “By the way, I’m going to have to swing by your office tomorrow.” With a tie slung around his neck, Paul met Cliff’s eyes in the mirror.

  His brows scrunched together. “Mine? Why?”

  “You’ll hear about it soon enough on the news, but the victim was Dr. Dean Ulrich. Sound familiar?”

  Cliff gave a low whistle. “Damn. Yeah.”

  Paul commenced knotting his tie. “Remember Ulrich was meeting Jerry at the hotel with and without his wife?”

  “Yeah.” Cliff climbed out of bed, found his boxers in the heap of clothes next to the bed, and slid them over his hips. He followed Paul out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where Paul set up the coffeemaker.

  “Looks like Ulrich started up with someone else, using the same MO. We’ll want to check your records.”

  Running that information through his mind, Cliff waited until he and Paul had their coffees in hand. “What do you think it all means?”

  Paul took a sip of coffee. “It gives us another person of interest to interview, for sure. And”—he took another sip, the lines in his forehead deepening, which, Cliff had learned over the past few months, meant he was deep in thought—“it could also mean his wife might have a motive.”

  “How so?”

  “Think about it. With Jerry gone, she thought there’d be no rival for her husband’s affection. Little did she know, Jerry would be replaced within a couple of weeks. Dr. Dean Ulrich had a secret life. He pretended the problem with his marriage was that the spark was gone and what was needed was a third party to spice things up. In truth, he was most likely gay or bisexual and afraid to tell his wife, so he figured he’d have his cake and eat it too.” Paul allowed himself a slight smile. “So to speak.”

  Staring into his coffee cup, Cliff put together all the pieces Paul had laid out before him. “His wife thought their problems were gone with Jerry dead. But Ulrich couldn’t stay away from his gym bunnies, and he started another affair, without his wife knowing.”

  “Or,” Paul said grimly, “she did know and was unhappy, angry, and embarrassed enough to kill him.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Paul entered the Thornwood Park Police Department’s Third Precinct at eight o’clock to find it already buzzing. Rob sat in front of his computer, chewing on the end of a pen.

  “Morning.” Paul sat at his desk and booted up his computer.

  “Yeah.”

  Brows raised in surprise at Rob’s grouchy answer, Paul figured if Rob wanted to talk, he would.

  “Anything come in yet this morning?”

  “Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Rob rubbed his face and sighed. “Hold on a sec. We got the address of the guy Ulrich was meeting. And police reports on Chase Ulrich but they’re pretty thin. Light on any real details. The worst is some drunk
and disorderlies.”

  Paul logged in and scanned the reports. “Makes me wonder if they’re deep-sixing the important stuff. My guess is Sonny Boy might not be as squeaky clean as he and his mother want to present.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s wrong?” Paul couldn’t take the monosyllabic answers from his usually good-natured partner.

  Rob tossed his pen down. “Annabel’s pregnant.”

  “Congratulations?” Paul had no idea what else to say.

  “I’m thrilled, of course, but she brought up the subject of a law degree again.”

  Paul’s attempt to hide his dismay and yet be supportive must’ve failed, as Rob gave him a weak grin.

  “Yeah. That’s kind of how I feel. Her reasoning is that I’ll make more money as a lawyer, and with four kids now, we can use all the cash we can get.” He grimaced and continued. “But the thought of spending three years, maybe longer, since I’d have to do it at night, studying while working a full-time job has my stomach in knots. Plus, the simple fact is, I don’t want to be a lawyer.” He laced his fingers over his midsection.

  “But Annabel doesn’t get it?” Paul had always thought Rob’s wife was smart and sensible, but he could understand her concern. There was certainly more money in law than in being a detective.

  “We’re talking it through.”

  “But you don’t want to have this between you two.”

  “She’s up for a raise and a promotion at work. This threw us for a loop. We didn’t plan another baby, but you know how it is.”

  “Not really,” Paul said, and Rob snorted with laughter.

  “Okay. Good one.”

  “I got you to laugh.”

  “Let’s put this on the back burner for now.” He pointed to the screen. “What do you think of our personal trainer at Flex?”

  “That place is a better pickup joint than a bar,” Paul muttered. “Glad Cliff and I are only into running.”