Tarot's Touch

by L. M. Somerton

  Alex was already running toward Conor’s prone form, pulling out his phone as he went. The car sped away with a screech. The stink of burning rubber hung in the air, his neighbor’s dog started barking, and the postman dropped his sack of mail and ran to join him. Heart hammering in his chest, Alex prayed out loud, “Please be okay. Please, God, let him be okay…”

  * * * *

  Alex was thinking inappropriate thoughts but he didn’t care, they were helping him ignore the sterile, overly disinfected smell of the private hospital room he was sitting in. His chair had not been designed for comfort, so he also needed his mind taken off the uncomfortable numb feeling in his arse cheeks. He wondered absently what pins and needles would feel like in that area and shifted uncomfortably.

  Next to him, Conor was propped up in bed, cushioned by at least four large pillows, looking pale and incredibly beautiful. Alex glowered as yet another young nurse bustled into the room and felt his boyfriend’s pulse. So far there had been pillow plumping—twice. Blood pressure checks, a fresh water jug, blinds being opened then closed again, and drugs administered. Alex was fairly sure that all but the latter visit had been completely superfluous and if one more person laid so much as a finger on Conor, they were likely to end up in the next ward on life support.

  “You should save that scowl for the bastard that hit me.”

  Alex blinked and looked into sparkling green eyes. “Sorry, I can’t help it. I’m relieved that there’s no serious damage and I want to take you home. Do you think they’ll let us take one of those gowns with us? The kind that doesn’t do up properly at the back?”

  Conor laughed then winced. “Stop! Laughing hurts! I want to go home too—as soon as the doc comes back, I’ll ask for a discharge.”

  “If the doctor won’t let you out of here, I’ll kidnap you. There are far too many people pawing you.”

  “They’re just doing their jobs, love.”

  Alex grunted. “You are such an innocent. I want you home where I can keep an eye on you. It’s exactly the same as the last time you were in hospital. Hordes of nurses with nothing better to do than feel you up.” He leered. “And that’s my job.” He stood up and stretched. “I hate hospitals. I hate you being in hospital, which, I might add, happens far too often.”

  “Twice, Alex. It’s happened twice. Well, since you’ve known me anyway.” Conor didn’t make eye contact.

  “I don’t want to know about any previous injuries or battering experiences you’ve had. That will just make me want to lock you in a nice, safe padded cell.”

  “You take over-protective to a whole new hemisphere.”

  “And I make no apologies for it. Someone just attempted to kill you—someone who knew our routine. If you come home, you will not be left alone. No arguments.”

  Conor gave a pained sigh. “There’s no need for you to babysit me. I’ll be quite happy and perfectly safe at home alone—you need to go into work anyway.”

  Alex crossed his arms. “There is absolutely no way that I’m leaving you alone. Deal with it.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing. Don’t argue with me, Conor. It’s not going to happen.”

  Conor rolled his eyes. “I have a few bruises. That’s all.”

  “You have severe bruising, a possible concussion and your shoulder has just been shoved back into its socket.” Alex loomed menacingly over the bed before bending his head to give Conor a gentle kiss.

  “Let me look after you.”

  “How can you catch whoever did this if you are stuck at home with me? Post a uniform in the garden, stick a dog unit in the hall if you must. I don’t care. But please, don’t waste time on me when you could be leading the investigation to find this bastard.”

  Conor’s voice shook just a little, giving Alex a clue to how vulnerable he was really feeling.

  “There’s a lot of stubborn in you isn’t there?” He sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. “How about a compromise? I’ll come home with you—I have to change out of my running gear anyway—and get you settled. Then I’ll call Robbie and he can babysit you. And you get a uniform in the garden.”

  It was a concession of sorts, and Conor looked smug.

  “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Relief that Conor was okay could only temper Alex’s frustration for so long. The doctor arrived and he finally had an outlet for his irritation.

  “Finally! Much longer and you’d be admitting me with an incurable case of disgruntlement.”

  “Sounds uncomfortable. I think we have rubber cushions for that.” Unphased by Alex’s temper, the doctor checked Conor’s notes. “Hmm. Yes, I see…”

  Behind the doctor’s back, Alex mimed hitting his head against the wall. Conor looked on in amusement.

  “Your colleague has little patience, Mr. Trethuan. However, I think an examination is in order. I have your discharge forms ready, but I’m quite prepared to rip them up if I’m not satisfied with your condition.”

  Alex groaned, but took a couple of paces away and let the doctor look Conor over. Once it was done, the doctor stood back. “I would prefer to keep you here for observation for another twenty-four hours, but I can’t force you to stay. You can go, Detective Trethuan, providing you have someone at home to keep a close eye on you. Any sign of deterioration in your condition and you’re to come straight back or call for an ambulance. I will give aftercare instructions to your Inspector. I trust he will pass them on.” The doctor threw a quick glance in Alex’s direction before leaning forward. “I don’t envy you working for him!” he muttered beneath his breath. “He’s bloody scary.”

  “Try living with him.”

  “Oh! Oh, I see….” The doctor laughed. “All becomes clear! In that case, just do as he tells you. That’s your safest option.” He was still chortling to himself as he strolled out of the door.

  “I’m not scary,” Alex said, as he helped Conor out of bed. Conor exchanged the green hospital gown for scrub trousers. Alex helped him with his running shoes, going to his knees to tie the laces.

  “You do err on the intimidating side, my love.”

  “Still, the doc made sense. He said you have to do as I tell you.”

  “Stop gloating and get me out of here,” Conor snapped.

  Alex grunted. “Your shorts and shirt were ruined when the paramedics cut them off. I think it’s going to be too painful for you to get your arm into a top, so I’ve borrowed this.” Alex wrapped a soft blue blanket gently around Conor’s shoulders.

  “There, are you warm enough? Are you in any pain?”

  “Stop fussing and take me home. Please. I promise I’ll let you know if I need more pills.”

  As they had both traveled to the hospital in an ambulance, Alex arranged for them to hitch a ride home in a patrol car. He spent the entire journey examining Conor’s face for any sign of pain.

  “You’ll get a crick in the neck if you keep twisting like that,” Conor said. “I’m not three years old, Alex. I said I would tell you if anything hurts too much. I actually feel like I’m floating on a cotton wool cloud. I’ve been dosed up with so many painkillers.”

  “Concussion is unpredictable. I won’t be happy until we’re home.”

  “I can’t deny it will be a relief to get back and settled.”

  “You need to rest. The after-effects of the anesthetic they gave you when they put your shoulder back in its socket will make you feel wiped out for a bit.”

  The journey didn’t take too long. The hardest part was getting Conor out of the car without hurting him. Between Alex and the constable that had driven them, they managed to support Conor so that there was no pressure on his shoulder. By the time they got into the house, Conor’s face was bone white. Alex thanked their chauffeur and sent him back to work.

  “I don’t really need to be in bed. I can sit on the sofa or even work on the laptop…”

  “I don’t think so.” Alex growled. He couldn’t help it. “You have one g
ood arm and I will handcuff it to the bed if you don’t promise to stay put and rest.”

  It was telling that Conor didn’t resist as Alex helped him up the stairs and into their bedroom.

  “Sit on the edge of the bed while I get your shoes and trousers off.”

  Conor was naked beneath the scrub trousers and Alex gave himself a couple of brownie points for not touching as he helped his lover into bed and plumped up the pillows for him. He took the blanket from around Conor’s shoulders and folded it neatly before putting it on a chair.

  “Are you going to be warm enough? I can get you some pajamas…”

  Conor’s eyes looked a little glazed. “I’m fine. Really. Just need to rest a bit.”

  “Okay. I’m going to call Robbie now and let him know we’re back. It won’t take him long to get over here. I’m going to get showered and ready for work.”

  “’Kay.”

  Alex smiled as Conor’s eyelids started to droop.

  “Bed’s not such a bad place to be after all, is it?” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Conor’s. “Sweet dreams, love.”

  His words fell on deaf ears because Conor was already asleep.

  In the interests of not disturbing Conor’s rest, Alex phoned Robbie from downstairs then used the main bathroom rather than the en suite to shower and shave. He crept around their bedroom collecting his clothes then went out to the landing to dress. He left the bedroom door open a crack so that he would hear if Conor called for him, then went downstairs to make a much-needed coffee and grab a bite to eat. They’d missed breakfast and lunch at the hospital and he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he started thinking about food and his stomach contracted with a growl.

  He was puttering around in the kitchen when the rumble of a powerful engine in the street signaled the arrival of Robbie Polson, a long-time friend of Alex and more recently of Conor. Robbie had proved invaluable in a case they’d been involved with where Conor had gone undercover at a nightclub called Spikes. Alex had asked Robbie to keep a discreet eye on Conor and it had saved his lover more than a few bruises.

  Alex pulled open the front door and grinned as Robbie’s huge frame blocked out the light. He was wearing heavy leathers and carrying his crash helmet under his arm. His hair was shorter than normal and his beard had been replaced by fashionable stubble. He looked almost respectable.

  Alex looked him up and down with a smirk. “I can see Jamie’s having a positive influence on you.”

  Robbie growled and pulled Alex into a rough hug.

  “He reckons his dick is too ticklish for my beard. Brat. It was easier to shave it off than put up with his hysterical giggling.”

  Alex gaped, realized what he was doing then slammed his mouth shut. Robbie was huge, intimidating and fierce but when it came to Jamie Medlicott, he was hopelessly soft. Jamie ran rings around him most of the time.

  “Come on in. Let’s go through to the kitchen. I’ve got a pot of coffee on.”

  “How’s Conor? And what the hell’s going on, Alex?”

  Robbie balanced his bulk on one of the stools next to the kitchen counter and put his helmet down.

  “Like I told you on the phone, it was a hit and run. It may or may not be related to a case we’re working on. He’s battered and sore. They had to put him under at the hospital to get his shoulder back into its socket, so he’s a bit groggy. They wanted to keep him in but half a day in that place is enough for anyone. He’s upstairs sleeping at the moment and he should be fine in a few days.” He handed Robbie a mug of coffee. “Thanks for coming over at such short notice, Robbie. I can’t leave him alone and there aren’t many people I trust to look after him.”

  Robbie patted his shoulder. “My pleasure. Nothing and no one will get past me, don’t you worry. I’m not working tonight so I’m here as long as you need me. Jamie will be round this evening when he’s finished at college.”

  “That’s great. I’d stay, but I really need to get back to work and see how the investigation is going. I can’t tell you much, but this incident has added a complication we could well do without. The fridge is stocked. Help yourself to anything you want.”

  “I won’t tell you to stop worrying, Alex, because I know you won’t. We’ll be fine. Does Conor need to be woken to take medication or anything like that?”

  “No—he has painkillers if he needs them but let him sleep for now. He may be hungry when he wakes. He hasn’t eaten yet today, but he might feel a bit queasy from the anesthetic.”

  Robbie sipped his drink. “Fine. Maybe some soup or toast if he fancies it. I’ll keep an ear out.” He delved into his jacket pocket and pulled out a battered copy of Wuthering Heights. “In the meantime, I have a date with Heathcliff.”

  Several sarcastic remarks leaped into Alex’s mind but he resisted the urge and said nothing. He grabbed his phone and keys from the counter. “I’ll give you a call later. Oh, and there’ll be someone posted outside soon, so don’t worry if the garden is invaded by police. I’ve let them know that you are here but if Jamie is going to show up before I get home, you’d better warn him.”

  “Or I could just look out the window and watch the show when he arrives! Now get going, for goodness sake. Conor will be well looked after. Promise.”

  Chapter Eight

  It was almost five o’clock by the time Alex got back to the station. He went straight to the incident room and the moment he pushed the door open, he knew something was wrong. Sergeant Higgs was the only member of the team in the room and he was on the phone, his face serious. He gestured Alex over.

  “Another body,” he mouthed silently. “Okay, we’re on our way”. He put the receiver down. “Nice timing, boss. We’ve got another one. Someone else that was at the launch of Leather and Lace. Adrian Hamilton—I’ll brief you on the way. How’s Conor?”

  “He’ll live. I’ll tell you about that in the car too. Come on. Let’s go.” Alex had to disguise his deep anxiety over Conor with gruffness. “We’ll take your car.”

  Higgs tackled the rush hour traffic while Alex fought to focus his mind on the case. It was almost impossible to keep images of Conor out of his head. He let Higgs talk and tried to absorb the scant details they had about the latest murder.

  “It sounds like another body dump, boss. This time the victim’s been found behind an empty warehouse on a run-down industrial estate. You know the place—on the other side of the river.”

  “I know it. Most of it’s derelict, isn’t it? Most of the companies moved across to that new development on the old gas works site. They got some incentive, didn’t they? I vaguely remember reading something in the local rag about it.”

  “That’s the place. The long-term plan is to level it and build a shopping mall and some upmarket flats.”

  Higgs swore as a cyclist swerved in front of him. “Some local kids built themselves a skate park of sorts there. You know the type of thing—old planks, pipes—anything they could salvage. Well they got a shock when they showed up today. They found a semi-naked body inside an empty oil drum. One of the lads has an older brother who’s in the job. Works with the fraud squad apparently—not someone I know. Anyway, the kid called him. He got over there to check it out and called in the cavalry.”

  “And now here we are, heading toward another corpse and another set of ruined lives.” Alex squeezed his eyes shut. The headache starting up at his temples throbbed along with his pulse.

  “That’s all I can tell you until we get there. Now what the hell happened with Conor?”

  Alex sighed. “A car hit him. We’d been for a run and were just about home. It aimed straight at him. There was no time for him to get out of the way. I yelled but…”

  “You saw it?”

  Alex nodded. “I got back a bit before him. Just a few seconds. Turned round and saw the car heading for him. It’s a bloody miracle he’s not too badly hurt. Mainly bruises, but he also dislocated his shoulder.”

  “That must hurt like a bastard.” />
  “He was unconscious and by the time he came round, the paramedics had given him some pain relief. When they relocated the joint, he had to have a general anesthetic. I left him at home with a friend. Thanks for sending a uniform over, by the way. I feel better that there’s a visible presence outside the house.”

  “No problem. Are you sure he was the target?”

  Alex gave his Sergeant a curious look. “Yes… Well, I assume… Fuck. I’ve made a rookie mistake, haven’t I? It was raining this morning. We both wore caps on the run and the most obvious difference between us is our hair color.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying, boss… It’s only natural that you made assumptions. You saw Conor hit. You had more on your mind than mistaken identity.”

  “I’m an idiot, Higgs. How many times have I told the team to cover all the angles?”

  “Stop beating yourself up. It’s only a possibility. Conor got the letter, didn’t he? It’s far more likely that he was the target. Anyway, we’re here.”

  Higgs parked the car behind a skip so that it was well out of the way of the crime scene crew, which was just arriving. Alex and Higgs took the opportunity to have a quick look at the body before the circus descended. They walked across the makeshift skate park to where a gaggle of teenage boys stood huddled together. Standing between the youngsters and the oil barrel, a sandy-haired young man watched them approach.

  Higgs flashed his badge. “Sergeant Higgs. This is Inspector Courtney. You must be Lucas Hearne?”

  “Yes, Sarge. Sir. My little brother Jonah found the body. He gave me a call. They’re all pretty scared that they’re going to get into trouble for being here.”