by Sue Brown
“And for all we know this might be connected with the case,” Cal pointed out grimly. “We still don’t know who drugged Josh.”
Josh had almost forgotten about the attack on him. So much had happened since then.
“Here’s Jesse,” Dave said.
“We need coffee.” Josh said hello to Jesse and headed over to the reception desk.
A gorgeous blond-haired man smiled at Jesse. “May I help you, sir?”
“See that group.” Josh pointed to the men. “Could you get coffee for us all?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“And keep it coming.”
The receptionist smiled again, a little less professionally and with a lot more interest. “Certainly, sir.”
Josh smiled at him a little sadly. A week ago he’d have enjoyed the interest. Now things were different. He looked over his shoulder at Cal who was talking to Gil.
The receptionist followed his gaze and his smile became professional once more. “I’ll order the coffee, sir.”
Back at the sofas, Cal tugged Josh down next to him. “Nice smile,” he murmured.
So Cal had been watching. Josh turned to look into his eyes. “He’s not my type.”
Cal nodded, and Josh could almost feel the tension seep out of him, but he didn’t let go of Josh’s hand until their drinks arrived.
As they drank coffee, and Jesse tried to pin down Landry’s movements, two phones rang instantaneously. Everyone looked at their phones to see if it was theirs.
“Shit!” Gil yelped. “It’s Landry!”
Jesse frowned at his phone. “It’s DCI Walters.”
“Poor bastard,” Cal said, gazing down at the twisted, broken body of Eric Adlington.
As soon as DCI Walters had relayed the news of Adlington’s death, Josh and Cal had headed to the site of the accident.
“The bus driver said he didn’t have a chance to avoid him. He stepped out in front of the bus. Didn’t even look,” the police officer told them. “The bus driver looks ready to collapse.”
Josh turned his attention to Adlington. “He’s wearing what he wore last night,” he pointed out.
“Where did he stay overnight?” Cal asked, clearly frustrated. “We’ve checked the tapes. He didn’t go back to the Michaels residence and he didn’t go home.” Cal knelt closer to the body. “He looks filthy.”
The police officer coughed politely to attract their attention. “Do you know who he is?”
“His name is Eric Adlington,” Cal said grimly. “He’s twenty-three and, up to this week, a personal assistant at Barton and Wharlow near Butler’s Wharf. Adlington’s also a suspect in a murder, an attempted murder, fraud and the potential victim of a car bombing yesterday.”
The police officer’s eyes widened as he looked up from his notes. “The young man’s had a busy week.”
“And now it’s over,” Josh said.
“It’s over for him. Are we sure he stepped out and wasn’t pushed?” Cal asked the officer.
The police officer looked up and pointed to cameras on the street corners. “We’ll let you know.”
Cal nodded. “DCI Susan Walters is liaising with us. Any issues, talk to her.”
Josh stared at Adlington’s face and hands. Although his cheek was covered in road rash, the rest of his face was covered in smudges and his hands were almost grey. “Where are you taking him?”
“He’ll go to the local morgue,” the police officer said.
“Do you know where it is?” Josh asked Cal.
“Yeah, I’ll call Jesse and let him know.”
Josh looked at the shocked faces of the passengers still on the bus. “They didn’t need this in their day.”
Cal hummed in agreement. “Death never touches just one individual. One person yanked out of the world can affect a community.”
Tilting his head, Josh studied Cal’s face. “You’ve seen too much death.”
“Taken too many lives and seen the effects.” Cal scrubbed his eyes. “That’s why I started CDR. I wanted to step away from that.”
“You never got away.” Josh spoke gently to him. “And now it’s touched your life and CDR.”
“People like me never get away from death and corruption.”
Cal sounded defeated, and Josh wanted to take him in his arms and kiss him until he remembered what life was about, but it was too crowded here. Later on he would show Cal what it was like to have a man to make him feel alive.
“Are we finished here?” Josh asked.
“Yeah, let me make a call to Jesse and then we’ll head back to the office.” Cal dug out his phone and stepped away from the scene.
Josh took one look at the crumpled body of Eric Adlington and said a brief prayer to Farrah for him. No matter what he’d done he must have been desperate to take his own life.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Cal suggested. “Then we can get the tube back.”
Cal seemed to know where he was going, and Josh was content to follow him. Although, when Cal ducked into an ice cream store in Greek Street, Josh wondered if Cal was having a moment.
“It’s November and freezing.”
“I need an ice-cream,” Cal said stubbornly. “Live dangerously.”
Josh glared at him. “Me nearly drowning wasn’t enough for you?” The girl behind the counter squeaked and Josh realized what he’d said. “Just pick your ice-cream.”
Cal studied the selection. “I want a raspberry and white chocolate, two scoops, and he’ll have a mint choc’ chip.”
“How the hell did you know that’s my favorite?” Josh snapped.
Cal placed his hand on Josh’s jaw and tipped his head up. “Two years I’ve talked to you, Angel.” Then he kissed Josh. Just a brief brush of lips but enough to make Josh’s knees buckle.
Josh licked his lips and looked at the girl behind the counter. She had a huge smirk plastered over her face.
“So a raspberry and white chocolate, and a mint chocolate chip, both two scoops?” she said, barely keeping it together.
“One scoop,” Josh said.
“Two for both,” Cal insisted.
The girl pursed her lips. “Who’s paying?”
“Me.” Cal pulled out his wallet.
“He gets to make the decision.” Quickly she scooped the ice-creams into cones and handed them over.
Josh was not having a sulk when he muttered his thanks despite what Cal said. Cal took a long, slow lick, which ought to have been illegal. Josh snorted but only succeeded in getting ice-cream on his nose. He stomped out of the store to the accompaniment of Cal’s deep chuckle and the girl’s light laugh. Out of sight of both of them, Josh grinned and licked his own ice-cream.
Cal joined him on the street. He seemed to have a destination in mind and Josh was content just to walk with him. They’d seemed to lurch from crisis to death to crisis all week and, despite the fact they’d left another death behind them, this moment together felt relaxed. Josh exhaled contentedly and his breath froze on the air. But it wasn’t as cold as Seattle temperatures, even though it was almost December.
At the end of the street was Soho Square Gardens, bedraggled in the middle of winter, but Cal stepped into it and Josh kept pace, both of them licking their ice-creams.
“Do you think Gil will forgive Landry for going off the grid?” Cal asked.
“I’d give anything to watch Gil tear into him when he gets back to the hotel.” Josh smiled grimly. “And then it’s my turn.”
“Did you know Landry played poker?”
“Yeah, but not usually while we’re on a case.” Josh was saving up big words to say to his operative. He was going to have Landry’s fucking hide for scaring them like this… if Gil left anything left.
Cal seemed to inhale the remainder of his ice-cream, and munched on the last morsel of cone. Josh watched as Cal licked his fingers; Josh’s dick appreciated the sight.
Cal sighed, seemingly in contentment, and grinned at Josh. “I needed that.”
/> Josh raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“I’ll put you over my knee if you’re not careful.”
“Is that a threat?”
“I’ve really got to work on my threats with you.” Cal shoved Josh who dropped his ice-cream.
“Hey!” Josh screeched in outrage, dodging the mess.
Cal looked at the ice-cream and cone, now splattered over the ground. “I’m so sorry. Want me to get you another?”
Josh huffed in annoyance. “You can get me coffee. The best coffee you can find. Now! And a cigarette!”
Cal saluted him. “Yes, sir! Right away, sir! Except the cigarette.” He tugged on Josh’s hand. “But first I want a kiss.”
Josh leaned up to kiss him, but this was no mere brush of lips. It was deep, meaningful and Josh melted into Cal’s arms. By the time they parted, Josh had forgotten about the ice-cream and the coffee. He just wanted to be kissed again.
Cal stared down at him, his eyes glittering. “There’s something you need to know.”
“What’s that?” Josh whispered. Then he yelped as something clipped his ear.
“What the…? Are you okay? You’re bleeding.” Cal frowned and touched Josh’s ear.
Josh stared at the blood on Cal’s fingers. “What the hell?”
“Someone’s shooting at us.” Cal’s expression changed as something else whizzed by them. “We need to get out of here.” He grabbed Josh’s hand and ran toward the gate.
“Where’re we going?” Josh attempted to keep up with Cal’s longer strides.
“We need to get to the station. We’re sitting ducks on this main road.”
Josh ran as fast as he could, feeling like there was a target pinned to his back.
As they approached the station, the number of people increased on the sidewalk. He heard a sound and people screamed as a woman crumpled to the ground two feet in front of them.
“Behind the wall,” Cal barked at Josh. “Now!”
Josh didn’t question his order, diving around the wall. Cal slammed into his back, pushing him to the floor. Josh felt blood trickle down his cheek as he hit the ground. Stone fragments flew everywhere as Cal shielded him from the bullets.
“I can’t decide if the shooter’s trying to scare us or if he’s really that bad a shot,” Cal said close to Josh’s ear.
“Which is more dangerous?”
“He might just get lucky and a bullet will find its target.”
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Josh said.
Cal pointed to a narrow alleyway. “Run down there, there’s another alleyway to the right. Then run down to the tube station. We’ll head to the safe house.”
“Are you coming with me?” Josh asked in alarm.
They both flinched and Cal winced as a stone chip hit his cheek.
“Shit, the bastard’s going to get lucky real soon. Go! Go!”
Expecting a bullet in his back at any second, Josh ran for the alleyway. He heard Cal thundering after him but didn’t stop to see if Cal was all right. They had to get away from the shooter.
“Right, right!” Cal yelled, as Josh dodged a tourist.
“Got that,” Josh muttered and then shut up. He needed to focus his attention on not flattening a group of hapless teenage tourists in his way, laughing and joking, unaware of the life and death situation they were potentially facing.
Josh pushed between two girls, ignoring their outraged complaints and ran down the second alleyway. There were fewer tourists, potentially making it easier for the shooter, but Josh didn’t hear anything.
“The tube station’s there.” Cal sounded out of breath as he pointed to the familiar red, white and blue logo.
Josh ran for the steps, almost knocking down a young girl. He apologized but didn’t stop running, ignoring the expletives from the girl’s father. He knew he needed the Central Line and he didn’t stop running until he was through the ticket barrier, and heading to the platform.
It was then that Josh realized Cal wasn’t behind him anymore. He turned to see Cal leaning up against the tiled wall.
“Cal?” Josh jogged back to join him.
“M’okay.” Cal looked anything but okay. His skin was gray and sweaty, and he clutched his side.
“Jesus, you’ve been hit. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
“Not… my first time. Just nicked me,” Cal gasped. “Got to get away.”
Josh put his arm around Cal who leaned heavily on him. “Can you make it to the train?”
“Uh-huh.”
They walked slowly down to the platform. Josh had no idea if the shooter was behind him. He had to focus on Cal, who looked like shit. The platform was crowded but no one paid them any attention, despite the fact Cal could barely walk.
Rushing wind heralded the arrival of the train and Josh waited for the red doors to open.
“Get in,” Cal said.
Josh went to take a step but paused when he realized Cal hadn’t moved. “Come on.”
Cal shook his head, his skin gray in the harsh light of the train as the red patch on his shirt spread. “I’m gonna slow you down.” The train doors opened slowly and he shoved Josh roughly into the carriage. Josh stumbled and nearly fell to his knees, incurring the wrath of passengers on the train trying to get out.
“Watch it,” an older man snapped.
Josh ignored him and regained his balance. “Cal!”
“Stay close to these doors,” Cal ordered from the platform. “Get out at the first sign of trouble. Get to the safe house. I’ll see you there.”
“But you need me.” The doors closed on Josh’s protest and he was whisked away from Cal. Too soon, Cal was out of his sight and he was on his own.
Six stops seemed like an eternity and Josh jumped at every movement around him. No one suspicious came near him, the passengers lost in their own worlds and ignoring everyone around them. At Notting Hill Gate Josh left the train and followed the crowd to the surface, constantly suspicious of everyone who came near him. He turned left out of the station and walked past stores filled with expensive goods and yummy mummies. But he soon left the stores behind, the main road stretching in front of him down the hill.
Six blocks, right, eighty-six. Mrs. Jones.
Josh counted the blocks, turning right at number six, and prayed he was walking along the right road. Number eighty-six was a long way down the road, a house that blended in with all the others. Josh knocked on the red door. It seemed to take an eternity before Josh heard someone shuffling inside the house. An elderly lady with long wispy hair and heavy glasses opened the door and glared suspiciously at Josh. “What do you want?”
“Are—are you Mrs. Jones?”
“Wrong number, sorry.”
She went to push the door closed but Josh heard someone say, “Don’t be stupid.” Followed by a feeble yelp and a thud. Immediately concerned, Josh shoved the door and forced his way in. The woman clutched her face, her gaze flicking between Josh and whoever hid behind the door. Too late, Josh realized the safe house had been compromised. Instead of running to safety, he’d run right into the arms of the man who’d been trying to kill him. Fucking bastard! Josh turned to scowl at the man who’d tried to drown him, and who’d led him on a chase around London. He blinked slowly, hoping this was some sort of bizarre shower scene rather than real life. He opened his mouth to speak but, before Josh could say a word, the man threw a punch and it was lights out—he was unconscious before he hit the floor.
Chapter 19
Monday 28th November
For the second time since Josh arrived in London, he woke up with a pounding headache and no idea where the hell he was. At least this time he was dry and the air smelled of lemon-scented cleaner instead of sewage, but he was just as uncomfortable. Josh tried to move and discovered he was shackled by his wrists and ankles to a kitchen chair. If he threw himself around he’d probably just topple over. Josh raised his head and the man standing at the sink turned to look at him.
&nbs
p; “You’re awake at last.”
“Landry?” It was hard to force words out. Josh licked his lips and tried again. “What’s goin’ on? How did you find me?”
He crouched down in front of Josh and smiled at him. The smile was unnerving, somehow kindly and psychotic at the same time. “What the fuck are you doing here, Josh?”
“This is where we’re supposed to go. Come on, untie me.” Josh’s head was so fuzzy; he couldn’t think straight.
Mrs. Jones was similarly restrained to another chair. She was quiet, her head sagging, although the occasional tremor shook her body.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Landry said, almost tenderly.
“What are you…? You?” Josh stared at him in disbelief. “You’re the one trying to kill me?”
Landry inclined his head. “Well done. It took you long enough.”
“But what the hell? You’re one of us—part of the team. My team.”
“I had my reasons.” Landry didn’t say anything more but that wasn’t enough for Josh.
“What about Gil? Is he—?”
“Not Gil.” Landry looked horrified at the thought. “Never my Gil. He has nothing to do with this.”
It was strangely comforting that, even in the midst of this shit-fest, Landry protected his brother. “So why? Why are you doing this?”
Landry shrugged. “I need the money.”
Josh stared at him open-mouthed, unsure he’d heard Landry right. “You’re killing me for money?”
“Not exactly. I sold CDR’s plans for money,” Landry corrected.
“What?”
“I was up to my eyes in debt and when someone approached me it seemed like a good idea.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone you needed help?” Josh spluttered. “Me? Your brother? Fuckin’ Dominic, for Christ’s sake?”
He laughed, and the bitter tone cut Josh to the core. “Because none of you have even a fraction of the money I needed.”
“How much are we talking about?”
“One point five million dollars.”
Landry said the number like it was nothing, like it was a buck fifty. But Josh realized if he’d rationalized the number over and over again in his head, it probably did mean nothing. “How the fuck did you get into so much debt?”
