Phoenix Rising

by Theo Fenraven

  She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes as she sat opposite him. “I thought you should know.” She put a sandwich on a plate and handed it to him. “I’m getting married. I mean, I’m getting married again.”

  He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to hear“Lawn mower’s broken, can you fix it?” or “Help me move that old wardrobe into the garage.”but this was a surprise. “To whom?”

  She kept her eyes on the table. “His name’s William Hersey. He was a friend of your father’s. You met him a time or two.”

  He remembered. An average-looking, quiet man with stooped shoulders. Artemis recalled him stopping by once to help Dad build something in the garage. Another time, he’d been part of a group playing poker. “He seemed nice.”

  “We’ve been in touch off and on since…. Well, recently, we started going out to dinner or a movie.” She took a bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. “I like his company, Artie. When he asked, I said yes. You don’t mind?”

  She wasn’t his biological mother, but he’d never gone in search of the one who’d given birth to him. He’d loved both his parents and was thankful they’d adopted him. “Why would I?” He half stood to kiss her cheek. “When are you doing it?”

  She beamed, relieved at his easy acceptance. “We thought maybe this fall. Something simple, considering we’ve both been married before.”

  “Sounds fine. I’ll be there.”

  He rather liked the idea of someone taking care of her. It relieved him of the guilt borne of spending so little time with her lately. He had good intentions, but something always got in the way. Hell, it was the job. It took up every waking minute, and lately it had occurred to him there were other ways of earning a living, other lifestyles that might be worth exploring. He didn’t have to be a cop his entire life, or maybe he could be one somewhere else. Some small backwater town might love to have a New York City homicide detective run their police department. Instead of dealing with heartrending murders and heartless killers every day, it might be a nice change to break up pot-smoking parties in the woods or chase down a missing dog.

  He’d be thirty-four in a couple of months, and what did he have to show for it? He had a rental he spent little time at. He had no car, because parking in the city was a bitch. He had no lover because, as Richard had been so fond of telling him, “You’re married to the goddamn job. I don’t stand a chance in hell of getting your attention for more than ten minutes at a time.” Thinking of Richard while his mother sat across from him, glowing with quiet happiness, was a mistake. His chest burned with the pain of Richard’s absence, but he surprised himself by wondering if it was Richard he missed so much, or not having someone to love.

  He picked up his sandwich and resolutely continued eating. “Are you going to continue on here or move in with him?”

  “We’ve been discussing that. He has a nice house, so I thought I’d give this one to you.”

  He shook his head vehemently. “No, Mom. Sell it and stash the money for a rainy day.”

  “Are you sure, Artie? It’s been your home since you were fourteen.”

  What would he do with a house? It wasn’t like he would marry, have children…. He stopped himself. He could get married, if he ever found the right guy. It was now legal in New York. Children? Never thought about it, but what if his mythical partner wanted one?

  He was getting ahead of himself. He didn’t have a partner and, given the nature of his job, might never have one. Some asshole could shoot him tomorrow, and this house would just be sitting there. “Sell it,” he said again, finishing his sandwich. When she tried to give him another, he refused. “Just coffee, Mom.”

  She looked at him. “I don’t want you to end up alone, Artie. That’s no life for anyone.”

  He plucked nonexistent lint off his knee. “I agree, but it’s the one I have right now.”

  “It’s not enough,” she insisted. “You need to make room in your life for someone special, or the years will pass and before you know it, you’re old and alone.”

  “Gee, that’s comforting.” His attempt to make light of the situation failed.

  “I don’t care that you’re gay. Doesn’t bother me.” She drew in a deep breath. “Whatever makes you happy makes me happy. What does bother me is that you only have time for work. Artie.” She glared at him and said again, “It’s not enough.”

  He spoke softly. “I know, Mom. I’ll work on that, I really will.”

  “Good.” She stood to fetch him more coffee.

  His visit with her ended as it usually did, with him feeling slightly guilty about all the things he wasn’t doing to please her.

  RACHEL was at the park when he arrived at 3:00 p.m., sitting on the edge of the stage, swinging her legs and looking around with excitement. Talis might be a murder suspect, but she was going to enjoy this, come hell or high water.

  She greeted him with a grin. “How was Jan?”

  “Getting married. Has there been any word about the DNA match?”

  “Not yet. Married? Are congratulations in order? “Yeah. They’ll be happy, and I’ll be off the hook.” He handed her a backstage pass. “Give that to Steve. Where is he?”

  “Joining me later.” A stagehand went by, giving her a wink. “I flashed the badge and they were eager to make me welcome. I’m pretty sure Talis greased the wheels.”

  “All the better for us.” People were coming and going with purpose. The show would start in four hours. “Why are we here so early?”

  “So I can gawk at Talis?” She shrugged. “I had nothing else to do today. Laundry, cleaning….What’s that compared to hanging out with a world-famous rock group?”

  “Is he here?”

  “Not yet. They expect him momentarily.”

  He hopped up beside her. “Nice venue. I can’t remember

  the last time I was at SummerStage.”

  “That’s because all we do is work our asses off.” “Mm.” He always meant to attend a concert, see a play,

  even drive out of the city to places with cows, but he never did. Lately his life seemed to be getting more and more diminished as the boundaries inevitably contracted. He’d been thinking a lot about the things he didn’t have and wanted.

  It was a beautiful day, sunny and clear with low humidity. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d noticed the weather as anything other than impedance to an investigation. Outside the concert area, people strolled, laughing, holding hands, enjoying the weekend. How long had it been since he’d really relaxed into a moment? He did it now, consciously letting his shoulders drop and feeling his spine curve as the tension eased.

  This year, he would take a vacation. He’d make himself do it, get away from everything for a week. The Bahamas in February sounded good. He’d go scuba diving, maybe parasailing. It always looked like fun when he saw it on TV.

  “Where do you see yourself in ten years?” he asked, leaning back on his hands and closing his eyes against the sun. The heat felt great.

  “Retired and living in France, but I doubt anyone else will see me that way. You?”

  “I honestly haven’t thought about it.” Was being a cop all he had going for him? Again, he contemplated the lack of love in his life and wondered if he could turn it around, find someone special. “After the concert, you’re taking the weekend off. I don’t want to see your ass again until Monday.”

  “Right.”

  They both knew if something broke in the case, personal plans would be flung aside, but it was nice to think about having Sunday off.

  Rachel said, “Are you okay? You seem, I don’t know, distracted lately. Unhappy even.”

  He kept his eyes closed. “I’m happy. Mostly. Can I ask you something?”

  “Always.”

  “How long have you and Steve been together?”

  “A few months. Why?”

  He looked at her then. “Do you see it going somewhere? And if so, how will you fit that into your current schedule? We’re calle
d out at all hours of the day and night. I’m never home, so I know you’re not, either.”

  Her eyes widened. “Lunch with Mom certainly started you down an interesting line of thought.”

  He persisted, revealing more than he ever had. “I couldn’t make it work with Richard. I loved him, I meant well, but the job took priority and he knew it.” Glancing away, he watched a smiling man buy a balloon for his small son, who was laughing with delight. “You know the divorce and suicide stats for cops.”

  “I do,” she said flatly. “Maybe… I won’t get married. Maybe I’ll just revel in being the best damn homicide cop in the city.”

  “You don’t want children, then?”

  “Artemis… I’m thirty years old. I don’t know what I want yet.”

  “Bullshit. All women know whether or not they want children. According to everything I’ve ever read, they hear that clock running all through their twenties.”

  “Oh, so now you’re an expert on women?” She snorted and crossed her legs. “Okay, I don’t generally make this known, but I don’t want kids. They’re noisy and messy and suck the life out of you. I’d rather be a cop.”

  He nodded, half-expecting that answer. “You know what you want.”

  “You don’t?” She gave him a curious look that also managed to show concern.

  “Until lately, I thought I did.” He heaved a sigh. “Until lately, I was pretty damn pleased with my life.”

  “What happened?”

  Richard left, Mom’s getting married and selling the house, and I met Talis, who excites me more than anyone has a right to, but I can’t have him because he may be a killer. But he didn’t say any of this. He cast about for an answer she would find satisfactory.

  “Artemis,” Talis purred next to his ear, and a moment later, added, “Rachel. How nice to see you both.”

  Artemis jerked in surprise, his relaxed stance fleeing as he turned to look at Talis balanced on one knee at his shoulder. This close, he could see flecks of gold in the amethyst-colored eyes and each individual eyelash ringing them. His skin was flawless and his full lips redder than Artemis remembered. The man was startlingly beautiful, and Artemis’s response was immediate. To hide it, he jumped off the stage, putting distance between them.

  Talis said, “I can show you around if you like. Or… did you come to arrest me?”

  “Not yet,” Artemis said lightly. “Maybe later.”

  Talis smiled, and the tour began. As he led them backstage and through the dressing rooms, Rachel asked questions. Artemis listened and said nothing, even when Talis tried to draw him into the conversation. Talis’s silken voice and hypnotic eyes kept him alert. It would be too easy to fall under his spell, and that he was weaving spells around him Artemis had no doubt. Was it only misdirection, or was Talis simply determined to seduce him? And if he was stupid enough to give inwhich he wasn’t, nuh-uh, no way in hellwould he be the next victim?

  “Dinner will be delivered before the show. I would be honored if you joined me.” Talis asked it of them both, but his gaze remained fixed on Artemis.

  He saw Rachel grinning at him out of the corner of his eye. “We’ll grab a hot dog in the park,” he said as he started to walk away. “But we’ll be back.”

  Rachel fell into step beside him, and when they were far enough away that Talis couldn’t hear them, she said, “Totally hitting on you. Too bad he’s a murder suspect.”

  He was relieved she hadn’t returned to their former conversation. “Yeah, too bad.”

  “So tell me, how does that work? How do you guys recognize each other?”

  He laughed. “What?”

  “How did he know you might be receptive to his attention? Is it in the eyes orthe way you move or what?”

  “That’s inside information. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He didn’t mind her teasing. In fact, he liked it. It reminded him there was another side to them, one that didn’t center on being cops. Sometimes they almost sounded like real people.

  THEY grabbed burgers at a food stand and beer to accompany them, and strolled slowly through the area as they ate and drank. People were beginning to arrive for the concert with their picnic baskets and blankets. Like sharks, Artemis and Rachel kept circling, looking at faces, listening to conversations, watching for anything odd. Talis was their top suspect, but they weren’t ruling anyone else out just yet.

  As the start of the concert got closer, Rachel asked, “Where do you want me?”

  “Moving through the crowd, keeping an eye on things. Pay special attention to pretty gay men near the stage. He has to be making contact with them somehow.”

  She nodded. “Right. They’ll be wearing signs that say, ‘I’m gay!’ You’ll be backstage?”

  He smiled. “Pay attention to all the pretty men, and yup, that’s where I’ll be. Watching.”

  They separated. Backstage, Talis was the first person Artemis saw. He was standing in the wings looking out at the people crowding the area, wearing makeup that accentuated his eyes and cheekbones. His blond hair was sprayed with something shiny, so it caught and reflected light when he turned his head. His pants were painted on, and they were cut to cup and lift his genitals, as if in offering. The taut material stretched tight across his firm buttocks. It was difficult for Artemis to look away.

  Around them was a swirl of efficient activity as people performed final checks and moved last-minute items into place. There was a constant buzz of sound, but it wasn’t particularly noisy. These people knew what they were doing and were getting it done.

  Artemis walked up to Talis. “Studying your audience?”

  “Observing,” Talis said, glancing at Artemis. “I see Rachel out there doing the same thing.”

  “You’re not nervous?” He could have been referring to the concert or to something else entirely.

  “No. Should I be?”

  Artemis’s question could be interpreted in more than one way, just as what Talis said could be assigned a different meaning.

  “You killed them, didn’t you?” Jesus, did that just come out of my mouth? What the hell?

  Talis’s expression didn’t change. He even smiled a little. “What do you think?”

  Chapter Nine Artemis

  For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else. —Ralph Waldo Emerson TIGHTENING his stomach muscles, Artemis leaned toward Talis. “I think you did it. I think you made love to those beautiful men and then killed them, but I don’t know how and I don’t know why.”

  Talis did something then that surprised the shit out of Artemis. He trailed a hand down the side of Artemis’s face. The touch was as light as butterfly wings, and yet it left searing heat behind. “You are the most beautiful of them all.”

  For a moment, Artemis was spellbound, caught by the lavender light in Talis’s eyes and the compelling scent he exuded, and then he came to himself and abruptly pulled away, stepping back. His cheek burned where Talis had touched him. “This isn’t happening.”

  “But it is. I knew it the moment we met.” Talis moved toward him. “Didn’t you?”

  Artemis’s mouth filled with saliva, and he swallowed convulsively. “I felt nothing.”

  Talis smiled. “Liar.” He placed a hand on Artemis’s chest. “You heart is beating very fast.”

  He was right. Artemis’s heart was pounding, and it wasn’t due to fear. Artemis brushed his hand away and marched past him, head spinning. What was it about that man that put him off-balance?

  Ammon approached, dressed in white linen, his black hair showing blue highlights in the backstage lighting. He gave Artemis a solemn look and brief nod. “Detective.”

  Artemis inhaled, exerting tight control over his expression. “Is there somewhere I can be where I am out of the way?”

  “Of course.” He glanced at Talis. “Ten minutes.”

  Talis nodded and, without another look at Artemis, left, heading for his dressing room. Art
emis followed Ammon to a spot where he could clearly see the stage and people-packed area out front.

  “Thanks. This will do.”

  “If you will excuse me… there are things I must see to.”

  Once Ammon was out of sight, he was out of Artemis’s mind. Artemis watched as the band members strolled onstage, waving to the crowd. The audience cheered at length, and when Talis appeared, they went nuts, screaming and waving. Talis smiled and waved back, a wireless microphone in his hand. His tall, lean body moved with fluid grace.

  “Ready to rock and roll?” he asked, and they yelled in response.

  The concert began.

  ARTEMIS listened, but mostly he watched. His eyes were constantly drawn to Talis as the man danced across the stage, mike in hand, making eye contact with people in front of the stage. The music ranged from hard rock to melodic ballads, with influences from the more exotic places in the world. He found himself tapping his foot and swaying at one point and smiled to himself. Rachel was right; they were very good, and he understood their popularity. Talis’s voice was compelling and his physical presence overpowering. The tight clothing only underscored his palpable charisma. Artemis could barely tear his eyes away.

  He saw Rachel occasionally, still wandering through the crowd, and recognized the burly man with her as Steve. Artemis had met him a couple of times. He was a nice guy, a creative type who spent long hours at his job, which made him a good match for Rachel. They forgave each other for not being constantly available.

  Okay, Artemis was lonely. Most cops were. Maybe Rachel and Steve would be an exception, and if they were, then there was hope he could beat the odds, too. And what the hell, why am I thinking about this again? He shook his head and refocused.

  The sun sank lower, and shadows moved in. The night was warm, and no one minded the oncoming darkness. The band had been performing for over an hour, and Artemis sensed the end was near. He mentally kicked himself awake, alert for anything.

  When his phone vibrated against his thigh, he jumped. Knowing he probably wouldn’t hear its ring over the music, he’d switched it over earlier.