Improvise

by Iyana Jenna

  “We have a suspicion, and you’d better be able to prove otherwise, Mr. Gregory, or things are going to get ugly when we find out that you’ve been hiding the necklace.”

  Tim starts to see red. “And what will I get from this, huh? More jail time for my dad? We may not be that close a family, but if you think I’d do anything that extends his sentence even longer, then you’re wrong.”

  Sullivan looks taken aback. “You’re admitting you’d rather go against the law?”

  “I’m admitting nothing.” Before the detective can do anything, Tim’s snatches his car door open and climbs inside, starting the ignition as he pushes it into drive.

  Sullivan makes to grab for the door, but it slips from his grasp as Tim pulls away. “You’d rather have those men—” he cries, but the rest of his words are lost to Tim.

  Tim drives his truck as fast as he can but retains enough common sense to stay under the speed limit. He doesn’t want to give that detective any more reason to drag him in.

  His unfortunate encounter with the cops doesn’t occupy his mind too long. His father’s words return. What if it’s gone now? What if he can’t find his backpack again? Those thugs looking for the necklace certainly won’t believe Tim if he tells them the truth.

  Tim parks his truck in front of the theater building behind Sean’s car. It indicates nothing about whether Sean is here or not, since he left the car here last night to catch a ride with Tim. Sean is waiting at Tim’s dressing room. He doesn’t look happy, though. Tim pretends not to notice and leans over to kiss Sean. Sean pushes him away.

  “What’s up, man?” Tim pouts.

  “You left,” Sean says coldly. “After I told you not to go anywhere without me.”

  Tim brushes past him and sinks into the chair in front of his vanity table, trying not to care about the mess surrounding him. His face in the mirror stares back at him with bloodshot eyes.

  “I told you I don’t want to drag you into this. I don’t want to get you killed.”

  “Damn you, Tim.”

  Sean comes to stand behind Tim and runs his fingers through Tim’s hair. Tim shuts his eyes, leans back, and moans as Sean rains kisses on his lids, nose, and lips.

  Amidst all the kisses, Tim remembers the necklace. He captures Sean’s hand and presses it against his lips. He kisses it and strokes it gently.

  “No. Damn you. I really don’t want you to get hurt because of this. I think maybe I need to make myself scarce for a while until things die down.”

  “And go away from me?” Sean sounds scared.

  “I’m doing it to keep you safe.”

  “Oh, stop it, Tim. Stop pretending it’s about me. It’s all about you.”

  Tim answers by grabbing the back of Sean’s head and bringing their mouths together. Sean tastes of coffee and mint. Tim is nibbling on Sean’s lower lip when there’s the sound of a throat being cleared. They jump apart at once, wiping their lips almost at the same time.

  * * * *

  There’s a slight pause as Sullivan regains his breath. He tries to gather his mind that has been scattered by the sight that had greeted him in Tim’s dressing room.

  “I—uh.” His mind is full of those lips, that skin, the column of the neck exposed as he received the kisses, the soft fluttering lids closed over the eyes Sullivan knows always glare at him in defiance.

  The same green eyes that are now sending him flames of fury.

  “Uh, sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t know—”

  “Detective Sullivan, what brings you here?”

  Despite his scrambled thoughts, Sullivan knows the answer to this one. He’s almost smug when he answers, “You.” That is so true. Tim is his assignment right now and he is glad Dan has to investigate other suspects in the robbery. Sullivan won’t have to share Tim with his partner.

  “Me, huh? So you really have no interest in the state of this room or whoever might have caused it?”

  “My partner is looking into it.”

  “Your partner, I see.” Tim nods. “The one who loves to attack me.”

  “Attack? Tim, what did he do to you?” Sean asked.

  Up until now Sullivan hasn’t looked at the other occupant of the room. Sure the young guy is pretty, Sullivan thinks when he notices Sean, but he’s nothing compared to Tim. Unfortunately, he seems to be Tim’s lover.

  “Who are you?” Sullivan asks.

  “He has nothing to do with this.” Tim pushes the other man to the door. “I’ll see you in rehearsal.” To Sullivan’s amusement, the man resists.

  “What is this?” He turns to Sullivan and offers his hand. “Hi, I’m Sean Paul, Tim’s co-star and partner.”

  “Detective Brent Sullivan.”

  “So I heard. You’re the one demanding something from Tim or else you’re going to serve his head on a platter.”

  “No one is going to serve anyone’s head on a platter. In fact, I’m protecting him from the guys who want nothing but the jewelry. They will kill anyone standing in the way.” Sullivan keeps his eyes straight to Tim.

  “What jewelry? Are those people going to kill you?” Sean asks Tim.

  “You don’t know for sure,” Tim tells Sullivan.

  Sullivan thinks he waits too long. He nudges Tim.

  “Mr. Gregory, can we talk in private?”

  “No.” Tim grabs his bag. “I’ve got work to do. Come on, Sean.” Without looking back, the two vanish out of the room. Sullivan sighs. It’s going to be a long day.

  * * * *

  It’s déjà vu. That night, with Sullivan and Sean following behind, Tim staggers into his house after the performance to find the place looking like a victim of some hurricane. The intruders left no stone unturned or in this case, no books, magazines, clothes, cushions, literally everything unturned. There are no drawers, cupboards, or wardrobes that haven’t been turned inside-out. Tim looks around in a daze. He is about to reach for a vase that rolls down on the floor, when Sullivan stops him and grabs his cell phone.

  “Don’t touch anything.” He steps ahead of Tim, dialing his phone. “Yeah. Jacob? Get our Crime Scene Unit to Gregory’s house, okay? They did it again. We need to know if it’s the same people.”

  “I don’t know why it matters to find who did it. All you care about is the necklace.”

  Sullivan turns to Tim. His eyes soften as he replies, “That’s not true. People’s safety is more important to us, and in this case that means yours. If it’s your father’s partners that broke into your house, we’ll have them arrested.”

  Tim hears a snort from behind him. Sean. Tim has totally forgotten about him. He frowns. He doesn’t need any more shit than he’s already got in the past couple of days. The detectives are his least favorite people but Sean giving them problems won’t help matters. Besides, hasn’t he told Sean so many fucking times to stay away?

  “I can’t stay here,” Tim says. “It’s such a mess.”

  He doesn’t really mean to say it aloud. Of course no sane person would suggest he stay there tonight anyway, not with this mess, and the posse of cops that will be roaming around the place shortly. He doesn’t realize he’s been drifting away into his thoughts until someone rests a hand on his shoulder and he literally jumps.

  “I’m sorry.” Detective Sullivan raises his hand, looking into Tim’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

  Tim feels spellbound. Those eyes gawk at him like a hawk. Sullivan looks honestly concerned about his wellbeing. Tim feels shivers run down his spine. He can’t look away even if he wants to.

  “I, yeah, I’m okay,” Tim mutters. He feels lightheaded. The entire time he’s spent with Sean, he has never felt like this. Something is wrong here. He can’t fall for Sullivan. Not when what the detective wants is to add more years to his dad’s sentence.

  Sean takes him by the arm. “Come home with me,” he murmurs in Tim’s ear.

  Barely aware of what is happening, Tim lets himself get steered away from the house into Sean’s car. He hard
ly hears what Sullivan’s saying, only knowing that he is agreeing with Sean’s actions. Tim wonders why he wants Sullivan to say no, to say that Sean’s place is not safe for him so he would have to go with the detective instead. Yet Sullivan lets him leave and the hand on his thigh now is Sean’s. Tim looks up to meet Sean’s silently querying eyes and forces a smile. It is not fair to Sean to have Tim turn his back on him at a time like this. They have been together in happier times; it’s only right to let Sean comfort him. Tim leans forward, closes his eyes, and searches for Sean’s lips. Soon they find each other and Tim sighs in bliss.

  * * * *

  Later that night Tim receives a call through the landline. It’s Sullivan. He tells Tim that the CSU found a lot of fingerprints. It’s good news for the cops. They can now run those prints in the database to find out who they belong to. Sullivan says it is better if Tim stays away from his house during the next couple of days. Tim ends the call, saying, “Thanks, Brent.”

  Since when has he started calling the detective Brent?

  * * * *

  Tim can barely sleep despite the warm body curled up against him. Shadows of faceless men creep in the dark, threatening to get him or Sean if he dares close his eyes. His father’s words repeat in his head, and he can only pray no one traces them on their way to Sean’s place.

  “Stop thinking,” Sean mumbles into his chest.

  “Am not,” Tim says.

  “Of course not.” Sean pats his face. “Just go to sleep.”

  When he’s finally lost to the world, the night passes so quickly Tim feels grumpy when his cell phone rings waking him up.

  “Morning,” Brent’s voice greets him.

  “Hi, Brent.” He surprises himself again with his casual use of the first name. “Uh, may I call you Brent?”

  Brent chuckles lightly. “Sure, if I can call you Tim.”

  Tim blushes, glad that Brent can’t see him. “Yeah. Sure you can.”

  “Good.”

  “Well, any news or something?” It’s not really early but all the same, Tim wonders why Brent has called him. He could have always caught him later at the theater.

  “I just want to check on you. Everything all right?”

  Sean’s missing but he must be showering or already in the kitchen. Nothing to worry about. “I think so.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Brent replies. “We’re running the prints today. I hope it will generate positive results. What are you going to do today?”

  “The usual, rehearsing, discussion, performing. Guess you’re going to be there at the theater?” Tim asks.

  “I have to.” Brent laughs. “At least until you tell me where the necklace is.”

  Tim flinches. “I, uh, I have to get ready.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Brent makes sure they will meet up again at the theater before he hangs up the phone. Tim rises from the bed, wondering why there is no sound at all coming from the bathroom. Tim tightens his robe and goes down to the kitchen. To his bafflement, Sean is not there, either. He frowns.

  “Sean?” he calls out, then louder, “Sean!”

  Tim runs up the stairs to change, still looking for his friend. He is calling Sean’s name over and over, checking all the rooms, but he is nowhere. Tim starts to sweat. This can’t be happening. No one knows Sean’s house and why would anyone take him? Why not take Tim instead?

  “Sean, no, answer me, goddammit!” A thought crosses his mind. Outside. He’s got to check outside, the front yard, backyard, Sean’s car.

  There is someone in the car, in the driver’s seat. Tim takes a breath in relief.

  “Sean, for God’s sake, what are you doing out there?” Tim runs closer, knocking at the side window. “Hey, Sean, open the door.” Sean is sitting back with his face turning away from the window. He looks as if he’s sleeping. Tim’s eyes run down along the motionless body. Nothing seems out of place. Tim reaches out to the door handle and opens it. “Sean? Hey, come on.” Tim cups Sean’s face, stroking it with his thumb. “Baby,” he whispers.

  Suddenly Sean’s head lolls away and he slides sideways; he couldn’t look anymore lifeless. Tim gasps as he realizes what he is looking at. He shouts Sean’s name and pulls him into his arms. Just then Tim sees it—a clean red hole on the other side of Sean’s temple that has been hidden from Tim’s line of sight.

  He screams.

  But he is muffled right away with a sack over his head; hands seize his arms, wrench them to his back, and secure them with a length of rope. Tim struggles with all his might, shaking his head hard to shake off the sack but soon that, too, is tightened around his neck. He jerks around to get free, but his captors are too many. His feet are off the ground as hands lift him up and they begin to carry him somewhere. Tim hears a car door slide open and he is thrown inside. He hurtles hard against the metal floor, letting out a barely audible shout, and the door slams closed. Tim struggles to sit up, but someone kicks him hard in the stomach. Tim doubles over as an iron fist smashes into the back of his head. He drops down like a sack of potatoes and everything goes black.

  * * * *

  Brent tries to stop thinking about Tim and concentrate on his job. Results of the fingerprint reading have been coming in and he traces them one by one. These are some unbelievable reads as several names turn up more than once, apart from Tim’s, Sean’s, and his own. Not many people visited the place so the prints must be new. Brent won’t believe his luck if they really belong to Tim’s father’s partners in crime. Now they have to figure out their names.

  Reading the data sheets makes Brent’s brow crinkle. The names, addresses, and occupations all refer to one place, Houston Correctional Center. What are the chances that those museum robbers work there? Brent will say zero. He looks up as Jacob comes in, takes off his jacket, and drapes it over his seat.

  “You’re in early, kid. Any good news?”

  “What’s in Houston Correctional Center?” Brent asks.

  Jacob gazes at him. “You forget? Paul Gregory.”

  Brent sighs. “Of course. But what do these prison wardens have to do with him? They can’t be friends, can they?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Brent slides the papers on to Dan’s table. “Look at these. The men breaking into Gregory’s place are all staff from that facility. Were they also looking for the necklace?”

  “Gregory’s place, house or theater?”

  “The house.”

  “How about at the theater? Any prints?”

  “Hmm.” Brent takes the paper and looks through them. “No results here on the theater.”

  “Did they come in earlier?”

  Brent tries the stacks of folders on his table. “Not that I remember. No, I don’t think so. That’d be the first thing I read.”

  “Well then that’s strange. They managed to wipe off their fingerprints or perhaps wear gloves while searching through the place, yet for their second action they totally failed.”

  “They didn’t act like professionals the second time around,” Brent murmurs.

  “What’re you saying, kid?”

  Brent beams at Dan. “What if there are more people wanting the necklace? The wardens are not Gregory’s accomplices, but the ones at the theater are. They’re the professional ones.”

  Dan’s expression clouds. “Then we have yet more people to deal with, and we still haven’t figured out who those robbers are.”

  “Gregory won’t talk.”

  Dan shakes his head. “No, he won’t.”

  “At least we’ll get these people.” Brent rises and grabs his jacket. “Bring those wardens in and get them to spill.”

  “You do that, kiddo.”

  “I wish someday you would stop calling me that.”

  “In your dreams, son.”

  * * * *

  Brent frantically dials and redials a number while driving.

  “What are you doing, Sullivan? Who’re you trying to call?”

  “Tim. Pro
mised to check on him, and I want to tell him the new development.”

  Dan smirks.

  “What?” Brent asks suspiciously.

  “You use first names now?”

  Brent scowls but he can’t help blushing. He hates that Dan can always read his mind.

  “Look, I’m a happily married heterosexual man and I myself admit he’s stunning. He’s an actor. Actors are beautiful.”

  Brent laughs, shaking his head. “I thought you were one of the most logical people I know. That is the most screwed up logic I’ve ever heard.”

  Dan laughs, too. “Just trying to keep you grounded, kid.”

  “Hey, I’m not too bad myself, am I? And don’t give me that kid again.”

  “Oh no. If I batted for your team, I’d have hit on you the first time I saw you.”

  “Aww, thank you, Detective Dan. You’re not too shabby yourself.”

  Dan snorts. “Hey, can you connect to Gregory already?”

  “No.” Brent’s getting more worried. He has tried Sean’s landline and still no one picks it up. “Dan, I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “What do you want to do, check over his place?”

  Brent feels relieved at the suggestion. “If you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t.”

  Part 2

  The world spins behind the blindfold as Tim pulls at the ropes binding his wrists around the back of the chair, but they are tied so tightly the ropes bite deep into his skin. His mind is whirling with the image of Sean, so different from his usual smiling self, so dead. It is all because of him. Tim has been so absorbed with himself that he never really believed they would target Sean, too. If only Sean had not asked Tim to stay with him.

  Tim yells out his frustration and gets a sound slap as an answer. He will not be silent. “Why? Why did you kill him? He knew nothing about whatever it is that you want.”

  There is a dry laugh, probably from the one who hit him.

  “Who—that little fag? Oh yeah, he was your boyfriend.”

  “What do you want?” Tim tries to follow the direction of the voice. He can’t see a thing from behind the blindfold, but his sharpened other senses tell him there are more people present.