Dirty Kiss

by Rhys Ford

  “Money isn’t a problem for me,” I reminded her. “If you asked around about me, you’d know that. I went to talk to him about Hyun-Shik Kim. I told you that already. There’s no reason for me to want Brian Park dead.”

  “Park was killed up close with something pretty powerful.” She slid a photograph over toward me, and my eyes caught on the splash of red on the bright white of Brian’s shirt. “You own a Glock 23. That kind of gun can do this to a man, especially up close.”

  There was not much left of Brian’s face except for the ridge of his nose and parts of his jaw. The exit wounds took off most of his cheekbone and blood pooled around the shredded edges of his torn skin. He lay on a short blue carpet, speckles of spit dried on what was left of his lower lip. It looked like someone had emptied the entire clip into his head, and I forced myself to look away, closing my eyes against the memories I knew would soon overwhelm me.

  “Do you need a minute, Mr. McGinnis?” I barely heard O’Byrne over my breathing, a patent concern laid thinly over the steel in her voice.

  “No.” I shook my head, concentrating on keeping my mind in the present. Unexpectedly, the scar on my chest ached, tendrils of pain spiraling outward as my skin began to itch. Brian’s death was different than Rick’s. There was rage there. Someone angry killed Park. I didn’t know what emotion had driven Ben to kill Rick. “I can give you my gun for testing. It’s at my house. I don’t carry it with me.”

  “You’ve got a license for concealed.” She looked at me curiously. “Why isn’t it with you?”

  “I don’t normally carry it with me,” I repeated calmly, opening my eyes and blinking against the glare of the light. “I brought it out with me a couple of days ago, but it went back into its case. I was meeting Park for coffee. I didn’t think I’d need it.”

  “You admitted you had knowledge of his arrest for solicitation. Something like that would make Park nervous.” O’Byrne eased back and angled her body, hooking one arm over the back of her chair. “Could he have called someone to talk to? Maybe someone else who could be threatened by you?”

  “I don’t know. I’d only spoken to him twice.” O’Byrne wasn’t going to let me off easy. There was no clock in the room, but the seconds drew out, ticking off in the back of my head.

  I took another look at the photo the detective had left on the table. Something nagged me about the picture, and I risked staring at the image, fighting to keep my rebellious stomach in check. Rounds of light shone through the carpet, the dark grey fibers nearly melted around the edges of the holes.

  “Where was he shot?” I stared at the photo, trying to make sense of the close-up. She’d chosen that particular picture to shock me, hoping the vivid starkness of Park’s death would shake something loose in me. If I’d actually killed him, I might have thrown up seeing my own handiwork, but other than the lingering revulsion of seeing another man’s brains splattered out of his skull, I had nothing to feel guilty about. “This looks like a car.”

  “It’s funny that you’d ask that.” O’Byrne drew out another photo, a long shot that showed Park’s legs sticking out of the open doors of a Ford E-150. “Park was shot in the back of his van, one that matches the description of one that ran you off the road a few days ago.”

  The exterior of the van looked like it had been through a battle, its sides and back battered in. Its white paint was smeared with long streaks of paint, the exact same color as my Range Rover. As casual as she sat, I knew O’Byrne was moving in for the kill.

  “So, Mr. McGinnis, do you want to tell me again how you didn’t want him dead? I’d say a man trying to murder you with his car is a good enough reason as any.”

  Chapter 16

  MIKE took his damned sweet time getting down to the station after I closed my mouth and lawyered up. It seemed like a good idea, considering the tone of the questions was getting serious. After I asked for my big brother, Detective O’Byrne led me into an even smaller room, this one with a one-way mirror that I was pretty certain had people peering at me every once in a while. Or at least I’d like to think so. It’s always a blow to a man’s ego when no one pays attention to him, especially when he’s waiting for his older brother to come rescue him.

  As always, Mike didn’t disappoint me. He arrived looking very stern. My mother’s Japanese genes were good for stern. There were times when I wished I looked less like my father. There were times when I could have used a bit more intimidation and less charm.

  His hair was sticking straight up, more from his hand running around the back of his head than any product he used. The ugly red tie his wife had bought him for his last birthday was masterfully knotted at his throat, and the expensive suit cut for his square body hung nicely from his shoulders. Madeline probably thought he looked hot. I thought he looked like a yakuza thug from a movie.

  O’Byrne got word the bullet came from a Browning and not a Glock, but she still forcefully requested I get tested for gunpowder residue, something Mike fought but I agreed to. I had nothing to hide, and if I balked, it would have meant a longer stay at Chateau O’Byrne. I was tired and sore. I wasn’t staying a minute longer in a cold room on a metal chair than I had to. When they were done, he retrieved me from the interrogation room they’d dumped me in.

  “Get your shit and let’s go,” he barked through the open door.

  Sometimes when I see my brother, his left eyelid twitches a little bit. It’s a small tic, and I’m pretty sure I put it there, right along with the small scar below his lower lip, but that matches the one he gave me on my shoulder. When Mike spotted me sitting there, his left eye began to telegraph landing instructions to aliens circling the Earth.

  “I don’t have any shit,” I said, leaning back in my chair until it rocked. The tic started to move into full-blown spasms, a sure sign my brother was either about to walk away or come toward me with fists flying at my head. “No, really. Just my cell phone and my wallet. Maybe some lint. I could use some gum.”

  If Mike’s lid moved any faster, it would burn his eyeball. I did the intelligent thing and got up off the chair.

  “Swear to God, I didn’t kill that guy,” I said to the back of Mike’s head. “It was just questions, then she got pissy.”

  “Shut up, Cole.” My brother cut through the bullpen, swerving around the desks with as long a stride as his legs could make. He growled at me over his shoulder. “Keep your mouth shut until we get outside.”

  “I wasn’t arrested,” I pointed out. O’Byrne was nowhere to be seen, and the desk clerk barely looked up as we walked past. “She was pushing for information, that’s all.”

  “Here’s some gum. Don’t choke on it because I’m not going to resuscitate you.” Mike patted at his jacket pocket, pulling out a pack of gum. He unwrapped a stick and offered me one before putting the pack away. “Well, now Detective O’Byrne considers you a person of interest.”

  “Did you tell her I don’t swing that way?” The gum was fruity. I was expecting mint, but I chewed at it anyway, clearing the stale taste out of my mouth. “I’m flattered, but Jae’s more than enough.”

  “I don’t want to hear that.”

  “Sorry,” I said, shrugging but not really feeling apologetic. “It’s the truth.”

  “You should have called me before she got you in that room.” Mike stopped at his car, turning to poke me in the chest with a stiff finger. “Your smart mouth makes her suspicious. I can’t talk everyone out of looking at you sideways, Cole. Especially when there’s a trail of dead bodies leading straight to you.”

  “I’ll say it slower. I didn’t kill Brian Park.”

  “I know that, but she doesn’t.” My brother puffed out his cheeks, and the tic slowed as he caught his calm. “Cole, you’ve got Jae staying with you. He was present when Jin-Sang Yi was murdered and had his apartment blown up. She likes Park for both of those things. Then they found three incendiary devices under your car after someone tried to run you off the road, and possibly that someone was Brian
Park.”

  “Okay, so it looks a little bad.” In retrospect, the detective had just cause to think that I’d want Park dead. “But then why would Brian do all those things? Because he was pissed off at the guy who gave him a job, even knowing he was going down on old Korean men in a sex club?”

  “Maybe Hyun-Shik was blackmailing Park.” Mike’s idea had some legs, but it was a weak runner. “Maybe it wasn’t for money. Maybe Hyun-Shik had Park doing sexual things with him.”

  “I’ve seen what Hyun-Shik likes,” I said, making a face at my brother. “Park couldn’t compete. Not even on his best day. Besides, he was too old. Hyun-Shik preferred young, sometimes a bit too young.”

  “More stuff that I don’t want to hear,” he replied, holding his hand up to stop me from continuing.

  “You’ve got to work on that tolerance thing, Mike. You’re younger than Mad Dog,” I pointed out. “Do you want to hear what I found out at the club?”

  “Fine. Tell me what you found out.” He unknotted his tie and tugged it free from his collar, undoing the top few buttons on his shirt. Flinging the jacket into the back seat of his car, Mike listened as I recounted Brian’s words in the coffee shop and then what the bouncer said to me at Dorthi Ki Seu. He processed the information, chewing on his fingernail as he thought things through. “Did he see her face?”

  “No, but he said the blonde was either natural or really well done.” I rested my hip against his sedan, watching a squad car roll by. “It’s got to be Victoria. She’s the only one in this that has a reason to want Hyun-Shik dead. Hell, I’d want him dead.”

  “It could be someone else,” Mike commented, his eyes distant. “But yeah, she seems like your best lead.”

  “I’m going to go see her. That’s where I was headed when you called me about Park.”

  “You think that’s smart? Suppose she’s the one who killed him?”

  “It’s not like I was going to accuse her straight out.” I shook my head at him. “What? You want me to take you or Bobby with me?”

  “Yeah, I do. Wait until tomorrow so one of us can go with you.”

  “I’m not a child, Mike.” Arguing with him wasn’t going to do any good. My brother was possibly more stubborn that I was.

  “That is why I wanted you to stop investigating the Kim case,” Mike said. “If she did kill Park, then she’s not going to think twice about killing you too. You should leave it to the cops.”

  “We’ve already had this talk, Mike.” I looked around for the rental, pretty certain I’d parked in the front lot. “I made a promise to Jae-Min, and the cops don’t give a shit. Hyun-Shik might have been an asshole, but he shouldn’t have died for it. Where the hell did I put my car?”

  “I had it towed,” he replied sweetly. “Get in the car. I’ll take you home.”

  “You had my rental towed?” I counted to three and breathed out. “Where? Why?”

  “Because you would have left here and headed off on some other stupid stunt that would get you into trouble. This way, I know you’re home for at least one night. And I’m not telling you where. You’ll get it back tomorrow morning.”

  “You’ve got some serious control issues, Mike.” I gritted my teeth and got into the car, slamming the door shut.

  “Yeah, I do,” he admitted. “I like knowing my brother’s alive. Call me crazy, but that’s important to me. And if you get killed, Madeline’s going to be pissed. She’s counting on you to show up at that dinner for Mom and Dad.”

  “Great,” I muttered as my brother turned the key in the ignition. “Just what I needed. A reason to want to die.”

  I WAS tired, and the bruises over my body were complaining about not being soaked in a hot bubble bath. I’ve been bruised enough times in my life to speak pain fluently. I knew what my body was saying. It was time to get off my feet, but I wasn’t giving my brother any fuel for his satisfaction. My stomach was also complaining about the lack of food, but it was going to have to wait until I dragged myself into the house.

  Mike dropped me off, then drove away. We’d spent most of the car ride in silence, he in a smugness that only an older brother can manage while I was grumpy at being handled. The cement sidewalk seemed to stretch on into eternity as I plodded to the front door. Jae was safe in the living room, engrossed in looking at photos on a laptop screen. He glanced up when I came in, smiling widely before returning to his work. My stomach’s grumbling stepped aside, leaving room for my libido to take over.

  He smelled good. The scent of my soap clung to his skin, and I leaned over, licking at the softness along his throat. Jae pulled away, laughing while he pushed me away. I liked coming home to find him wearing one of my shirts and smelling like he belonged to me. The cat mewed at me from her perch on the sill, her ears twitching as she intently watched a brown-headed sparrow pecking at the lawn. Alcohol was still off my to-do list, and I mournfully waved a hello to the lager at the back of the fridge, choosing a cold bottle of water. A pot bubbled on the stove, as fragrant and exotic as the Korean sitting in my living room.

  “What are you working on?” I sipped at the water, wincing at the cold plastic on my abused mouth. Sitting sideways on the couch, I slid one leg behind Jae, resting my hurt knee against his back. He leaned forward to make room for me, absently rubbing at the inside of my thigh with his fingers.

  “I shot a wedding before the accident,” he murmured, his attention more on the splashes of color displayed on the screen than me. I didn’t mind his distraction. It gave me time to relax against the couch and watch him. “I keep all of my work on a server, so I don’t lose anything. I don’t have my equipment, but I have my shots.”

  Jae’s long fingers flew over the keyboard, renaming files after he inspected his photos down to the pixel. The bride wore a long robe, its red vivid against her pale skin. Its sleeves were shortened rainbows, flowing over to hide her hands. Pink and white flowers floated down the front of the robe, and her smile was mysterious, promising to keep her secrets from the moon-faced young man standing beside her.

  “We can get you new equipment,” I said, stroking his leg.

  “Sit over there and look pretty. I’m almost done.” I’d been around him long enough to know that almost done in Jae time meant an hour or so. It was a pleasant enough view, one that could keep me occupied, so I settled down into the couch cushions and waited.

  After ten minutes, I offered what I supposed would be an ultimatum, hoping he’d see the error in his thinking. “If I don’t get a taste of you soon, I won’t be held responsible for what I’ll do.”

  His dark lashes brushed his cheekbones, and he slanted a curious look at me. I was left to wonder what was going on behind his unreadable eyes. He stretched up over me and placed his hands on either side of my shoulders, dimpling the couch arm with his weight. I moved my legs together, giving him room to place his knees on either side of my thighs, and moaned when he bent his head down to kiss me, opening my mouth to take his tongue when it slithered over my lower lip.

  “So that was a good threat?” I murmured into his mouth.

  “You do some very stupid things, agi. I couldn’t risk it.” His hand moved under my shirt, finding the edges of the scar along my ribcage. I twitched under his touch, tender from my unexpected flight into my front lawn’s bushes. “I don’t think you’re up to doing much.”

  “Baby, I can honestly tell you that I’m up enough,” I said. The itch Jae caused by looking at me now grew along the length of me, and I reached down to tug at my jeans, hoping to give myself some room. His fingers followed mine, his thumb rubbing against the swell, and I heard him literally purr, his mouth closing down on mine in a long kiss.

  “Hey, wait.” I pushed at his shoulders, forcing Jae to look up at me. “I need to have something on me. I can’t risk you.”

  “Do you have something down here?” His teeth were dangerous, and I wanted to bury deep inside of him, stretching him apart until I could grab onto his soul, never letting it go. “Or do I
have to go upstairs?”

  “Um.” When faced with the hard questions, my mind tended to scatter, picking up tendrils of thoughts I’d left behind hours ago. The only thing I could think of was that we needed wet cat food, a piece of information that would do me little good at the moment. “Shit, in that box over there, the blue one on the bookshelf. Bobby gave me some gag stuff for my birthday a couple of months ago. I think there’s some condoms in there.”

  Jae slithered off me, a long curve of grace I could watch forever. I laughed when he opened the box, his eyes widening appreciatively as he dug through its contents. Pulling out a streamer of gold coin condoms, he tossed one at me, tucking the others back in. Straddling my knees, Jae settled back down, kissing at my bared belly as I struggled with the foil.

  “Bobby gave you some strange things,” Jae mumbled, nudging my shirt further up my body until his tongue lapped at my nipple. I nearly choked on a piece of the condom wrapper, my teeth snapping off a corner and flicking it back into my throat. Gagging it out, I spat it into my hand, wiping the foil on my shirt, and ordered Jae to behave.

  “You’re going to kill me before I get this thing open,” I warned. He ignored me, much like his cat did when I needed to open the front door and she lay in the way. Jae rounded my nipple again, leaving a hot, wet trail of spit behind, then went back to blow it cold, leaving me with a shiver down my chest. The foil ripped open and the condom plopped out, unceremoniously landing on my belly with a splat. Grinning, Jae gave me a kiss and bit my chin.

  “Let me do this,” he said through his teeth. “Don’t go anywhere. I just want to do this.”

  Apparently a few hours was too long for my body to go without Jae’s touch. My dick agreed. It twitched and throbbed under Jae’s light touch, hurting with every stroke. The button at my waistband popped open when Jae’s thumb worked it loose, and his teeth snagged at the tab of my zipper, pulling it down slowly. I reached for him, cupping the back of his head in my palm, and leaned my head against the cushions, breathing in deeply. My control was shaky at best, a razor-thin thread holding myself in.