by Jo Davis
“You’ll never work undercover, pal,” Austin teased, his attempt at humor falling flat to his own ears. “You’d be dead inside a week. What’s on your mind?”
Danny snorted. “How does Tonio get away with it? I wonder.”
“Because he’s full of shit. Don’t change the subject.”
His partner hesitated, then shrugged. “I drove out to Dynamic Media Creations yesterday. Matt Blankenship’s coworkers knew about his wild lifestyle. Even so, they were pretty shell-shocked about his murder. The guy was really well liked.”
“He wasn’t a pariah. Interesting.”
“Nope, just the opposite. He kept his escapades out of the workplace. Meaning, he didn’t play with coworkers. But he had lots of good friends, and while they laughed at his antics, they worried, too. One girl told me, ‘Matt’s the class clown who never grew up. His games just got more serious.’”
“Well, the coworkers are a dead end in any case. We need to connect with his club crowd. Maybe Frankie Blair is the link.”
“Sure as hell hope so. We’ve gotta find something before the killer goes after you again. He hasn’t called since you were sprung from the hospital?”
“No, but he will. He’s stewing, working up to a rage. I can feel it.” The knowledge sent a chill down Austin’s spine.
“Jesus.”
“Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really eating you?”
The corners of Danny’s mouth lifted as he exited onto Wycliff. “Damn, what are you, a freakin’ cop or something?”
“Danny.” He was starting to lose his patience.
“All right! I asked Laura to dinner,” he blurted.
Austin stared at him, lungs seizing in his chest. His friend hadn’t made an idle threat the other day. He’d actually asked her. “When was this?”
“The day of your press conference, when you asked me to take her home. It was the evening the killer called you, the night before the stakeout.”
“That was days ago, Danny,” he replied tightly. “And neither of you bothered to mention it?”
“There was no need. She turned me down.” His friend shot him an uneasy look. “But I’ve been thinking.”
Austin’s head started to pound again. He stared at his friend. Why hadn’t Laura mentioned the invite? And where the hell was Danny going with this? “Christ, spit it out.”
“I know you and Laura have a thing going now, okay?” He sighed. “I’m your friend and I’d never try to poach even if I could. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” He trusted Danny.
“So, sure, I wanted to take her out, but she picked you. That’s cool.” He paused. “But the thing is, the killer has probably seen her with you. So I’m thinking it’s a good idea if he sees her with someone else as well.”
“Let me guess. You?”
“Well, you have to admit the idea doesn’t suck. You don’t want the murderer’s attention on her, and if she’s seen with someone else, that might do the trick. He’ll believe she’s less important to you than she is.”
He might trust his friend—but he still wanted to punch him at the moment.
“It’s not a bad idea,” he admitted.
“Then we’re cool? You’re on board with the plan? I don’t want a problem between you and me.”
“Sure, we’re cool. As long as Laura agrees, that is.”
“Good.” The nervous tension in Danny’s posture relaxed. “I sort of already asked her, and she agreed.”
Really? Like that didn’t chap his ass or anything. But maybe he’d hurt her worse than he’d believed after they’d made love by the stream. Had he blown any chance with her? Maybe this was for the best. Danny was a good man, one with no baggage, no broken heart to protect. He could make her happy.
So could you, a voice whispered. Take the risk; you might just win this time.
“I want protection on her for a while,” Austin heard himself say, as if through a tunnel. “Since she doesn’t want to stay with me . . .”
“I’ll crash at her place, if necessary. That’s up to the lady.”
Danny and Laura. Under the same roof. Getting closer.
Common sense and knowing Laura better told him that she wasn’t the type to jump from one man to another that way. That didn’t stop a wave of sheer violence from surging through his blood, and he willed it down. If he’d screwed things up with her? Nobody’s fault but yours, Rainey.
Wisely, they let the subject drop. Danny turned onto a residential street and parked adjacent to Frankie’s building. The aging condominiums, hunkered among tall, beautiful trees, were well kept. Flowers and potted plants adorned the various stoops, and an assortment of classy sports cars, sedans, and SUVs boasted of middle – to upper-middle-class inhabitants. Austin had been to this area only once before, but he knew the residents were predominantly gay men, both singles and couples. From Frankie’s halfhearted attempt to pick him up at the Waterin’ Hole, he’d gotten the impression the guy was definitely single. And looking for Mr. Right.
Austin was no homophobe. Hell, everyone deserved to be happy. God knew there wasn’t much else worth fighting for in this sorry world.
Frankie’s unit, number 115, was located on the ground level on the opposite side of the building. He followed the narrow walkway around the corner to the small landing, Danny close behind. He rang the doorbell and turned to admire the clusters of multicolored moss roses edging the porch. Some of the condos were bare of flowers, so he figured Blair must’ve planted them himself.
The door swung open to Frankie’s cheerful greeting—“Hey, Rainey, long time no see!”—which ended in a startled gasp. “Oh my God! What’s with the Samsonite luggage under your eyes? They make cold cream for that.”
Austin couldn’t help but smile at the comical expression on Blair’s boyish face. “Hi, Frankie. Can we come in?”
“Sure.” The younger man stepped aside to let them in, looking him over from head to toe, dark brow furrowed in concern. “I heard on the news about what happened. Drugged! Jeez, are you okay?”
“As long as I’m unconscious. Guess it’ll take a few more days before I’m back to my old self.” Getting to business, he gestured to Danny, who’d been hanging in the background. “Frankie, this is my partner, Lieutenant Danny Coleman. Danny, Frankie Blair.”
“Mr. Blair,” Danny said, offering his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Frankie looked past Austin, blinking as though noticing Danny for the first time. There’s noticing, then there’s noticing, Austin thought wryly. Put those big brown eyes back in your head, Frankie Boy. This one’s after my girl.
Blair stepped forward, flashing Danny a dimpled grin, wiping his palm on his jeans almost self-consciously before shaking the other man’s hand in a firm grip.
“Please, call me Frankie.”
Danny’s green eyes widened a fraction, a strange expression flickering across his face, then gone so fast Austin might’ve imagined it.
“Danny,” he responded, his voice warm.
Danny? Not “Lieutenant Coleman”? Austin’s brows lifted in surprise. In two years, he’d never heard his starched and polished by-the-book partner breach professional etiquette with a witness.
“Cool, Danny.”
Three seconds of complete silence. As if realizing the handshake had lasted about two seconds too long, Danny released his grip as though he’d been scalded. He took a step back, putting space between himself and Frankie, his face unreadable.
Austin narrowed his gaze at his friend. What in the ever-loving hell was that?
Frankie cleared his throat. “Are you hungry? I, um, made chicken salad. I made plenty for three sandwiches, if either of you would care to join me. We can eat while we talk.”
Austin held up a hand, shaking his head. “Not for me, but thanks anyway. This damn pain medication
has my stomach turning flips.”
“Since you’re offering, I’d love one.” Danny smiled. “I’m kinda running on empty.”
“Fantastic!” Their witness-turned-host gestured to a couple of barstools that faced into the gleaming kitchen. “Sit. Fire away with your questions while I make the sandwiches.”
As they settled onto the stools, Austin took off his sunglasses and laid them on the bar, noting Blair’s pressed jeans and nice blue polo shirt. The wavy black hair framing his face was damp, as though he’d just showered. “Where’s the company uniform? I thought you were working today,” he observed.
“Had to take the afternoon off,” Frankie replied, fishing a Tupperware bowl out of the fridge. He set it on the counter next to a package of baguette rolls. “I’ve got an appointment this afternoon to meet with my adviser. She’ll go over my credits and approve my application to graduate. It’s just a formality.”
“What’s your degree in?” Danny asked.
“Art, specializing in graphic design. I landed the job at Dynamic Media Creations, starting at the end of May,” he said proudly. “I’ll be working on designs for advertisements.”
“Wow, that’s cool,” Danny enthused, clearly impressed.
“I think so, too. Especially since it means I get to say ‘so long’ to the cable guy routine.” He removed three rolls from the package and began to slice them in half.
“Congratulations,” Austin put in. “This is the job Matt Blankenship recommended you for, correct?”
The light in Frankie’s eyes went out like the flame of a candle, and his smile withered. “Yes, but I didn’t know him. He did it because Rick got the idea to show him some of my work. Matt liked what he saw and thought I had potential. He put in a good word with his boss, and the rest was up to me.”
“Rick’s a friend of yours, or just an acquaintance?”
He paused, a wounded expression crossing his features before he mastered it. “A friend, that’s all. I’ll be honest. I would’ve liked more, but—” He shrugged, then laid out the rolls and began to spoon on the chicken salad. “Wasn’t in the cards.”
“Rick’s not gay?” Austin pressed. He felt bad causing Frankie pain, but he had to know whether his initial impression of Yates had been on target.
“No. He was confused for a while. He’s not now.”
Ah. Rick Yates had cleared up his confusion at Frankie’s expense. And obviously hurt him in the process. Damn. While Austin scrambled for a way to express his sympathy without intruding on the guy’s privacy, Danny solved the dilemma.
“I’m sorry, Frankie. That totally sucks.”
Blair’s gaze snapped to Danny’s, and his humor returned. “For sure. Ever felt like you’re a fucking science project in a glass jar?” He mimicked a woman’s falsetto voice. “Look, children, a gay man! Homo sapiens Homosexuas. Don’t touch—it might bite!”
“Christ.” Austin chuckled.
Danny, however, didn’t laugh. He watched as Frankie finished with the sandwiches, slicing them in half and placing each on a plate. After garnishing them with chips, he slid two of the plates in front of his visitors.
“Oh, none for me. I’m not—”
“Eat,” Frankie ordered, cutting off Austin’s protest. “You’re running around investigating on an empty stomach and you wonder why you feel like shit? Jeez.”
“Well, okay. Thanks.” He sniffed. It did look good. He picked it up, took a bite. Heaven. “Wow, this is great. I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”
“Terrific,” Danny mumbled between bites.
Their host grinned, pleased. “The chicken salad’s homemade. I’m a pretty decent cook when I have the time, which unfortunately hasn’t been often, with work and finishing college.”
Frankie grabbed them each a soda from the fridge. They ate in comfortable silence for a minute before Danny brought the conversation back to the unpleasant subject at hand.
“Sounds like you don’t get out much.”
“Not very often, but that’s all right by me. I’ve never been big on the club scene.”
Danny cocked his head. “But you do go out occasionally. You told me on the phone you saw Yates and Blankenship the night of the murder. We need for you to tell us about that evening.”
Austin shot his partner a scowl. Really? He didn’t appreciate being out of the loop. And he goddamn well intended to tell Coleman so when they left here.
Frankie nodded. “It’s been over between me and Rick for months, but we’re still friends. I went to Spanky’s that Saturday night to see his and Matt’s band play. Or maybe I just have a masochistic need to torture myself.” He sighed, running a hand through his thick dark hair. “Anyway, I went. Stayed for the whole evening, until after the last set.”
Danny leaned forward, elbows on the bar. “Did you see anyone strange hanging around, either a man or a woman? Someone acting suspicious, watching Matt? Coming on to him?”
Frankie barked a jaded laugh. “Everyone in that part of town is weird, and most of them are looking to score something or someone. Picking out one weirdo down there is like trying to spot a polar bear in a snowstorm.” He hesitated, took a deep breath, and dropped his bombshell.
“But after the band was through and had packed up their equipment, I saw Matt leave. With a woman.”
10
Hot damn! Now they were getting somewhere. Glancing at his partner, Austin managed to contain his excitement.
“Did you notice anything peculiar about Matt before he left?” Danny asked carefully.
“Yeah, but it didn’t hit me until the next day, when I saw the news about his murder. Matt seemed drunk, but that wasn’t unusual, so I didn’t think much about it then.” His mouth flattened.
“Later I realized he hadn’t hung around for long after their set, maybe half an hour. I specifically remember he didn’t drink during their show that night, but he was weaving when he left on the woman’s arm. I wondered how he’d gotten wasted so fast. Then I just figured he’d popped some ecstasy. According to Rick, Matt was notorious for doing that shit.”
Danny looked at Austin. “That’s when Matt was dosed with the date-rape drug.”
The truth remained unspoken between them. Frankie had most likely been the last person to see Matt Blankenship alive—and on the arm of a killer.
Blair drew the awful conclusion on his own. “Aw, fuck.”
“Yeah.” Austin paused. “The problem is, who’s the woman? Our killer is supposed to be a man.”
“Damn,” Danny muttered. “But remember, the long black hair found on Matt’s body was synthetic. So the killer could be anyone.”
“True.” Austin turned to Frankie. “After you saw the news, why didn’t you call the police and report what you’d seen?”
“Hell, I’m not an idiot,” Frankie huffed. “Don’t you think I was suspicious? I called the Sugarland Police that afternoon. Got the royal runaround and ended up leaving a message on some detective’s voice mail. Nobody bothered to call me back, so I thought they didn’t need my information. For all I knew, they’d already ruled out the woman I saw.”
“Do you remember the detective’s name?”
“Herrera, I think.”
Austin slapped his hand on the counter. “Son of a bitch!” Herrera! By God, he’d roll up the case file and shove it up the jerk’s ass. “Call Herrera, Danny. Find out why he ignored a possible witness to a murder. Because if I do the honors, I’ll get called out on the carpet.”
“Will do, with pleasure.” He looked back to Frankie. “Can you describe the woman? If it was a woman.”
“Tall, long black hair almost to her waist. She wore a black dress that ended midcalf. I didn’t get a good look at her face, but I thought she was a pretty large lady. Not fat, just big-boned.”
“How tall?”
“Very. Statuesque
. I’d guess Matt was around six feet, and I recall thinking she could look him in the eye. I only saw them from across the room as they were leaving. I doubt I could pick her out of a lineup, but if she came into the club again I’m pretty sure I’d know it was her.”
Danny gazed at him a few seconds, worry clouding his eyes. “Do you go to Spanky’s often?”
“Hardly ever. It’s not my scene. Like I said, I rarely go out. If I do, I usually meet friends at other places that are more tame.”
“Good. If I were you, I’d stay away from the nightlife altogether for a while,” Danny advised. “Just to be on the safe side.”
Frankie set his can of soda down with a plunk, mouth dropping open. “You don’t think the killer would come after me . . .”
“If a serial killer recognizes a witness, all bets are off. Lie low and don’t take any chances.” On that dire note, Danny stuffed the last bit of sandwich into his mouth.
“God.”
Blair appeared so shocked and upset by the possibility that his life might be in danger, Austin felt sorry for him. Hell, he knew that fear too well. “Hey, it doesn’t hurt to be careful, that’s all. Don’t sweat it.”
“Right,” Frankie drawled, rolling his eyes. “Just another day in the jungle. Does the PD put you guys through desensitivity training or what?”
“I’m a sensitive guy.” Danny grinned. “Rainey’s the asshole.”
He scowled. “I am not an asshole.” Am I?
They thanked Frankie for his hospitality. He waved off their thanks with a smile, then dumped their plates in the sink and checked his watch.
“Hate to rush, but I’ve gotta book out of here if I’m going to make my appointment,” he said. “But if you need me for anything else, I’ll be around.”
Danny fished his wallet from his back pocket and removed a small card, handing it to Frankie. “The main number to our field office is on there, as well as my cell phone. Don’t hesitate to call anytime if you remember something else or a problem comes up.”
Frankie took the card and hesitated, cutting Danny a speculative look from under his dark lashes. “Sure.”
