The Orchid Murders

by The Orchid Murders [eXtasy MM] (lit)

  Anderson had to fight to keep from shrugging out of his grasp. He managed to keep from shuddering as heat travelled through him. “At least that way I’ll…,” he stopped himself and inhaled deeply. “I’ll go for the dinner. Whether or not I stay at your place we’ll have to wait and see.” Anderson gave him a small smile before reaching for the helmet. “I have to take Byung’s bike back.”

  Sam smiled. “Good, I’ll pick you up in an hour. Drive safely and stay alert Andy, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Anderson said nothing to that but walked out the door. Each time he figured it was perfectly all right to hate Sam’s guts, the man just went and did something nice. Shaking that off, Anderson tossed his leg over the motorcycle and revved the engine. Soon he was speeding back towards his friend’s house with Percy Evans on his mind. Could he be the killer? But why would Percy kill his father? Anderson tried to focus on the road but only succeeded partially.

  Just as Sam got back to his desk, the phone rang. “Morgan,” he said into the phone.

  “Detective Morgan, this is Matt Sterling at the crime lab with a hit on your latent fingerprint that was lifted off of that camera.”

  “Oh? Who’d it come back to?” Sam asked.

  “Came back to a Percy Evans. He was a cop, retired six years ago from the New Haven P.D. in Connecticut. You want me to forward this to your office?”

  “Yeah, but do it by fax or email. I need that right away!”

  “Will do,” the lab technician replied as he hung up.

  Son of a bitch! Sam thought. He quickly picked up his cell phone to call Roger since he didn’t know exactly where he was. When Roger answered he said, “Rog, a former New Haven cop just became our chief suspect, so don’t tip off anyone at the New Haven P.D. while trying to get the warrants. When you get back here, I’ll explain it to you.”

  Anderson walked into the house to find Byung at the piano. He was obviously in the middle of writing another song. He smiled and walked into the kitchen to grab a beer before returning to his friend. He hopped onto the hood of the piano while Byung played the same keys over and over. “How’d it go?”

  “As well as can be expected,” Anderson drank from the bottle. “I think we have a suspect but I’m not holding my breath. I remembered one of the guys from the picture.”

  “That’s good then,” Byung stopped playing to focus on the conversation. “I mean you didn’t even have that before.”

  “True…”

  “What?”

  Anderson shrugged, “What, what?”

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s an ‘and’ coming?”

  Anderson laughed. “Sam asked me to dinner and I said yes. He wanted me to spend the night at his place but I don’t know if it’s like ‘witness protection’ spend the night at his place, or ‘work on a personal relationship’ spend the night at his place.”

  Byung laughed back. “You gay men confuse me,” he shook his head. “I thought you wanted to be with him.”

  “That’s a bit strong isn’t it? I mean I wanted to see where things go but I don’t know if a cop is necessarily life-mate potential.”

  That got him a confused look from his friend so Anderson laughed and explained, “Well I want him. He’s sexy as hell but I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to know when to lay off, just be someone’s man.”

  “Then teach him,” Byung shoved Anderson’s leg. “Teach him. Simple, no?”

  Anderson sighed.

  “Why don’t you take him to my brownstone after dinner? It’s big enough, out of the way and perfect for a romantic getaway.”

  Anderson frowned. “Weren’t you listening to a word I just said? I don’t think he’s the romantic type.”

  “Well you never know until you try,” Byung smirked. The man reached down to the ground beside him and picked up a CD. “Here. It’s the video you shot for me. Craig dropped it off earlier.”

  “Oy Vey,” Anderson moaned. He really did not want to see that. “I’ll watch it later. Right now I need to borrow another one of your shirts.”

  “You know where they are,” Byung went back to peering at the sheet of paper on the piano stand. “You need to shave too.”

  Anderson hopped from where he was sitting and walked out of the room but called over his shoulder, “I’d rather light my pants on fire.”

  Sam sat at his desk head racking his brains trying to put it all together. A Yale educated retired cop, in old age, begins a gruesome killing spree of other members of his secret fraternity years after becoming members. Why? What possible motive could he have for turning into a serial killer?

  Roger tapped him on the shoulder and Sam practically jumped out of his chair. “Easy Sam, just letting ya know I’m back.”

  “Fuck Roger, don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” Sam said with more anger than he intended.

  “Well, how did we get to the point of having a suspect who was a cop?” Roger asked inquisitively.

  “The print on the camera equipment from Williams’ apartment came back to a Percy Evans. He’s been off New Haven P.D. for six years now after having put in forty. We got the hit off of an employment prints filing with the FBI that all cops have on file. And of course, this would be the same guy who was picked out and identified by Anderson today from the fraternity pictures of the Bonesmen.”

  “Well, if he came back off of the camera equipment, I’d say he is most definitely a prime suspect. Why the hell would he be spying on Anderson Williams?” Roger wondered out loud.

  “I don’t know but we need to find out. How are the warrants coming?” Sam asked.

  “Not too bad. The New Haven D.A. is not being overly cooperative, but our D.A. thinks we’ll get what we need. As soon as we have them, we’ll get a call and we can head up there. Have you cleared it with the bosses?” Roger answered.

  “Shit. Gotta do that yet, and I better pass it up the line now and then I have to leave. Gonna take Anderson out for dinner to try and make up for the rough time he’s had.”

  “I saw how you were looking at him Sam. I’m sure you’re gonna be doing more than eating food tonight,” Roger said with a goofy smile.

  “Worry about your own sex life buddy and I’ll worry about mine.”

  Roger laughed and said he was heading off for the day. With all the overtime they had put in recently, he saw no reason not to leave a little early.

  Sam typed up a fully detailed email and sent it up to the Chief of Detectives to both advise him of the progress of the investigation and to get clearance for the trip to Yale. He then shut off his computer, grabbed his cell phone and headed to the locker room to take a shower before picking up Anderson.

  Once that was done, he got into his cruiser and headed over to Anderson’s friend’s house to pick him up. He better be ready, Sam thought; he was hungry as hell after having missed lunch.

  Sam parked the car and went up to the door and rang the doorbell once again. He wondered who would answer the door this time and if he would need a warrant to enter on this trip.

  Chapter Nine

  But with Sam’s luck, Byung was the one to open the front door. The man’s eyes were fused to a newspaper article. “Anything interesting?” Sam asked as more of a conversation starter than anything else.

  “Wouldn’t you know it?” Byung grinned boyishly. “I’m gay! Who woulda thunk it.”

  “You are?” Sam asked arching a brow.

  “Er, no. But it doesn’t stop the tabloids from printing it. Come on in, Detective,” Byung closed the door behind him once he entered then led him into the living room. “Have a seat, Andy will be down soon.”

  Sam eyed the white sofa warily and wondered why it was that rich people decided to buy white furniture. It wouldn’t last a day in his house for when he finally stumbled home after a hellish forty-eight-hour case bender and fall into the sofa, dirt was not the first thing on his mind. He was scared he was going to ruin the piece. Finally he slumped down into it to wait. He felt as though
he was waiting for a prom date and meeting his parents for the first time. It was a gut wrenching feeling. Anderson’s friend had his nose back into the article and was deeply frowning.

  “Why do you read those things anyways?” Sam wanted to know. “And why would they print stuff about you?”

  “I’m an Asian pop icon,” Byung spoke without looking up from the paper. “My life is free reign. As for why I read it—”he stopped and looked at Sam as though to think about the answer. “I don’t know. Sometimes they’re funny. This one is funny because I didn’t even know I was gay!”

  Sam chuckled, “And why would they think you were gay?”

  Where was Anderson?

  “Because in my videos Andy is the lead man,” Byung explained. “I have a thing about my phobia regarding love scenes on screen.”

  Sam arched a brow. “Say what now?”

  “Anderson, if it’s a love song, plays the role of the male lover and some model they found somewhere plays the leading female. He doesn’t like it but he does it as he said because he’s got my back.”

  “I see,” Sam grinned, making a mental note to tease Anderson about it later.

  He didn’t have time to ask any more questions for Anderson entered the room. He stood up to leave but Anderson stopped to speak with Byung. “You coming back tonight?” the Asian man was asking.

  “Don’t know yet,” Anderson told him. “Either way I will give you a call.”

  “Have a good night you two,” Byung called but Anderson knew that his friend was talking to him. He smiled then walked ahead of Sam and out the door. The moment he saw the car he frowned. Though it didn’t have the police colors, Anderson knew it was a cruiser. It had tinted windows—maybe to mask the fact that there was a laptop-esque piece of equipment mounted to the damn dash.

  “Really, a cruiser?” Anderson wanted to know.

  “It’s my only car, all right?” Sam replied hitting the remote so the doors would unlock. “I can’t afford my own.”

  Anderson let that go and climbed in closing the door. It was strange to be in a police car. It made him feel as though he had done something wrong. Anderson pushed off the strange paranoia even after the car pulled from the driveway and was speeding through the partially empty streets to the center of New York City. He wasn’t sure what to make of this. Was it a date or was it protection? Either way he didn’t like it. It made him uncomfortable. Silence filled the air around them, slicing through his ear. He wanted music, talking, something.

  “Is it going to be this awkward between us from now on?” Sam questioned.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anderson replied softly.

  “Don’t lie to me, Anderson,” Sam told him, switching lanes. “You are not a stupid man, I know that. I know you feel the tension.”

  Anderson made a face. “The tension? Of course I feel it. What do you want me to say?”

  “Something—anything.”

  “No you don’t,” Anderson shook his head. He turned to stare out the window as the car stopped for a light. They fell into silence again.

  “You still blame me for the book, don’t you?”

  Anderson turned his head from the window to stare at Sam. He was looking back at Anderson. He did not answer but turned back to look out again. Anderson had no idea what to say and his father had always told him, “Andy, sometimes, if you don’t have anything good to say, don’t say anything at all.” That moment as the light turned from red to green, Anderson had nothing good to say.

  “Now I know how you feel,” Sam continued.

  “Don’t even begin to think you know how I feel,” Anderson warned. “You have no idea how I feel. I don’t want to talk about this now.”

  “Then when?”

  “What do you care, Sam? You’re not here to stay, remember? You’re only doing your job. That’s what you said, wasn’t it?”

  “Is that what you really think?” Sam pulled over to the side and parked before turning to grab Anderson’s shoulder, “Andy there are two of me, a cop and me, Sam. You have to learn how to differentiate.”

  “I know when to differentiate, Sam. You see, when we were screwing, that was Sam, when you were bullying me, taking my things, now that was Cop Sam. I get you—I just don’t think you know the difference. That’s the problem. You didn’t promise me anything, Sam. It’s fine.”

  Sam was trying. He really was but he did not know how to get through to Anderson. He had no idea how to make this man believe that he knew the difference between his personal life and his job. “Look,” Sam took a deep breath and twisted his body to face Anderson. “I know that the way I left the other morning wasn’t the best, ok? But hindsight is always twenty-twenty. And you’re right that I didn’t promise you anything, but I had to go to work and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

  He saw Anderson’s posture softened so he continued, “And I do want to see if there’s anything between us. Why do you think I’m trying so hard?”

  “Don’t. If the only reason you’re doing this is because you think that’s what I want,” Anderson still pushed. “I don’t want you to feel trapped. If you’re not willing to work on this I don’t want you here.”

  Sam had to give Anderson credit, if nothing else, the man was honest. He smiled, “That’s not why I’m here.”

  He kept eye contact because it seemed as though Anderson was reading him. Finally the Literature professor nodded his head and Sam reached forward. He wrapped his fingers against the back of Anderson’s neck and pulled forward. “Since that’s over,” he whispered against Anderson’s lips, “How about a contract?”

  “I don’t think there’s any need for something so binding,” Anderson replied.

  “I wasn’t talking about that kind of contract,” Sam smirked. “The one I had in mind, I like much better.”

  Before he could take his reward for putting up with so much of Anderson’s drama, Anderson spoke again, “Should we be doing this in a cruiser? Aren’t there cameras?”

  Sam heard the word camera and froze. He forced himself to push back from Anderson, depriving his body of the kiss he wanted so badly. He didn’t feel too bad for he could see Anderson’s chest rising and falling—his breath had quickened at the thought of a kiss. Sam smiled and checking traffic, he pulled back onto the road.

  Sam allowed his mind to wander to Anderson. He thought of the hardness of the professor, the sexy way Anderson smiled and how his brown eyes changed to heated puddles when he was turned on. His penis jumped and Sam glanced down briefly before looking back at the road. His body was betraying him at the mere thought of Anderson, on all fours begging to be taken from behind. Sam licked his lips and wondered what would happen if they skipped dinner altogether.

  * * * *

  They walked into Rosa’s and Anderson couldn’t tell the last time he had been there. It had changed over the years from a somewhat seedy establishment to a place with classical music playing wonderfully in the background. He didn’t recognize any of the faces and that would make sense. The last time he was there was so long ago. Was it before he graduated university? Or was it after?

  “Table for two?” a distant voice asked.

  “Yes please,” Sam spoke up.

  “Table or booth?”

  “Booth,” Sam again.

  “This way please.”

  Anderson shook himself in time to be poked by Sam and they followed the host. He must focus on the night at hand and not on his last time in one of his old haunts.

  “Your server tonight will be Henry,” the host continued while setting out menus before Anderson and Sam. “He shall be with you in a moment.”

  “Thank you,” Anderson replied and picked up his menu.

  “About what we spoke about in the car,” Sam began and Anderson lowered his menu to focus on the cop before him.

  “What about it?”

  “I was being serious.”

  “So was I,” Anderson lifted the menu with a smile hidden behind i
ts pages. “I think I’ll have the lobster tonight.”

  “Going to pretend that I didn’t realize you just switched topics on me,” Sam spoke with a hint of laughter in his voice.

  The two continued through dinner until halfway through desert when Anderson got a simply delicious idea. He slid one foot from his shoe and lifted it, slowly dragging his toes up Sam’s leg. He watched Sam’s eyes widen and knew the cop was about to speak. Anderson pressed a finger to his lips. “Shhh,” he hushed softly, but his toes didn’t stop their climb. He felt it the moment they glided over Sam’s knee and moved towards the man’s groin.

  “Anderson….”

  “What’s the matter, Sam? It’s not Andy anymore?”

  “We can’t, not here,” Sam said with a raised eyebrow.

  “Come on Sammie boy,” Anderson teased. “Live a little.”

  Anderson thought for sure Sam was going to kill his fun but to his surprise, Sam’s legs fell open. With a smile, Anderson moved his toes, to the center of where he wanted them all along. With tips, he massaged Sam and felt his lover rising beneath.

  Sam clutched the table as his spoon slipped from his finger to clatter against his plate. He inhaled sharply and held it. What was wrong with him? The possibility of sex in a public place had never done anything for him before. But as he sat there, eyes locked with a teacher Sam had to fight everything in him not to push the things from the table and attack Anderson. His heart began hammering within him and his skin felt as though he was roasting alive. He loved that feeling. But his growing hardness was complaining even more. It wanted release.

  Finally he thought if Anderson didn’t stop, he would explode. He clutched Anderson foot and dragged his nails against the sole of the socked limb. A groan left Anderson’s throat and Sam smiled. “My, how the tables have turned.” He held Anderson’s leg by the ankle while the other hand caressed the tender soles of his lover’s foot. He watched the expressions on Anderson’s face—from the way he bit against his lower lip, to his eyes widening—all of them turned Sam on even more.