L. A. Mischief (14 page)

Torres surged forward, rattling his chains. “Why give that black skank a break. He’s bad news all the way around.”

“Probably an accurate assessment,” David said. “But we don’t have him on a one-eighty-seven, unlike yours truly.”

“I din’t do nothin’.”

“Who did it then?”

“You ever do the girl?” Martinez asked casually.

Torres grinned, showing stained, broken teeth. He ran his tongue over them. “Yeah, why not. She hot.”

“And Goyo didn’t mind you porking his squeeze?” Martinez could manifest crude in a way that always amazed David.

“He don’t know.” Torres looked around in alarm as though he thought someone had slipped his partner in to the interview room. “You ain’t gonna tell him, are you?”

“Your secret’s safe with us,” David said softly.

“She was a fox,” Torres said wistfully.

“Take us through that day,” David said. He checked his notes to be sure he had the right date. “Three weeks ago. Monday.”

Torres scratched his acne ravaged chin. “I was s’posed to go into work. G was gonna meet with me so we could move some product. But he was late, and I had to start my run without him.”

“But he met up with you later? When did he do that?” David asked.

“Yeah,” Torres said. “He din’t show up until afternoon, and boy was he pissed. He come into my truck screaming something awful. The boss was always on me about having him around the little kids. G never could watch his mouth.”

Or his temper from the sounds of it. David made a note.

“He carry the gun with him?”

“He always had his piece.” Torres confirmed what David had suspected. “Never went nowhere without it.”

“So he had it with him that day?”

“Sure, said that, din’t I?”

“You ever borrow the piece?” David asked casually.

“Sure,” Torres answered just as casually. Too late his attorney put his hand on his arm. Torres shook him off. David loved stupid criminals. “I wanted to buy my own so G let me shoot his. I just gotta save up the money...”

“He ever use it in licks?” Smash and grab artists liked the power a gun gave them. They always thought they could control a situation. And when it fell apart the fall-out was severe. “We can check you know,” he lied. “Lot of jacks and burglaries in that area.”

Torres went white. “No, no. He never do that. G’s not violent.”

“But you are, right? How did you get the gun?” David suddenly threw out. “G just hand it to you?”

“What? I din’t—okay, he give it to me to hold. We was gonna sell it for some cash...”

“Were you stoned the day you shot Maria?”

“No!”

“So you did shoot her?”

Realizing what he had let slip Torres glared at him.

“What about the little girl, man. Did you have to kill her too?” Martinez asked gently.

David shook his head. He stood up. “We’ll be in touch, counselor.”

“You gonna let me go?” Torres asked. “I wanna be home for Thanksgiving.”

“You might want to explain things to your client, counselor. To start with, that he’s going to be away for a few Thanksgivings. We’ll see you in court.”

Torres was still sputtering when David and Martinez let themselves out and went to collect their handguns before heading back to Northeast where they planned to write up their report and call it a night.

DAVID FED SWEENEY then set about making his own supper. Soup and day old bread he’d picked up at a Silver Lake baker. He was just rinsing off his dishes and loading them in the dishwasher when his landline rang.

He scooped up the receiver. It was Blair.

“Hey, man, I missed you at the bar.”

“Ah, well, I’ve been busy,” David fumbled for excuses.

“Heard from the bartender you were in the other day.” There was no censure in Blair’s voice, only quiet resignation. “He said you were with a ‘gorgeous guy’—his words.”

“Blair—”

“It was Chris, wasn’t it?”

David gave up lying. Blair deserved the truth. “Yes, it was.”

“So it’s not really over, is it?”

David clutched the phone, his knuckles white. “I don’t know. But I don’t think I’ll be coming down to the bar anymore. Not right now, at least.”

“I understand,” Blair said softly. “Good luck, David.”

He disconnected and David slowly put the phone back in the cradle. Sweeney leaped into his lap and he mindlessly smoothed his fingers over the cat’s back. He stared unseeing at the TV he had turned on at some point, though he didn’t remember what he’d been watching.

An obnoxious Santa and a bunch of equally obnoxious elves came on hawking some ludicrous toy that would no doubt break the day after Christmas. David was glad the only toys he ever bought were for the LAPD toy drive held every year. It kicked off with a formal party that was held on the Sunday after Thanksgiving and wrapped up three weeks later with a community event where the gifts were distributed to needy kids.

He usually went. It wasn’t required, but it looked good to participate. Martinez always went with his wife. David was always solo.

In the bedroom he paused by his open closet, pulling out the uniform freshly back from the cleaners in preparation for the party on Sunday. He didn’t have to wear it, but he chose to every year. Sometimes he wondered if he didn’t do so to prove he could still get into the uniform he’d owned since his Academy days.

He smoothed the stripes on the dark arm and brushed imaginary lint off the shoulders. He put the suit back and shut the closet door. Then he braced himself and left the bedroom.

He didn’t stop long enough to think through what he now knew he was going to do.

He was done over-thinking.

Chris was online. Spiritless, he clicked through Man2Man, barely glancing at the images of hot guys parading across his 32” monitor. No one caught his eye long enough to engage his mouse finger.

A message popped onto the bottom of his screen: Hi. U up 4 sum fun? It was from someone called Bg8Luv. Chris clicked through his profile. His picture might have aroused Chris at any other time. Bg8Luv was wearing a leather harness all too reminiscent of what he had found in David’s drawer. Over top of the leather he wore a dark blue vest and a pair of striped cop pants. His chest was muscular and covered with dark hair. He had two nipple rings.

Chris reached between his legs and stroked himself into semi-hardness. But there wasn’t any fire there. He exited Man2Man and went back into his business email account. There were a couple of queries from referrals. He looked them over and forced himself to put together a response. He couldn’t afford to let business slide, no matter what was going in his personal life.

It wasn’t exactly like anyone was standing in line to take care of him.

He sent off the emails, including a sample contract to two of them. After that he tunneled into one of his newer clients and checked the status of a couple of servers he had recently updated with new security patches. They were running well, no odd glitches or reactions from the updates.

Then he shut down his system entirely. In the kitchen he pulled out a bottle of white Zinfandel from the fridge and poured himself a glass. He pushed open the door leading into his neglected backyard to let in some fresh air. He wondered back through to the living room and stood at the large bay window overlooking the reservoir that gave the area its name. Lights from Silver Lake Boulevard and the hills beyond danced on the restless water. He could hear the rustle of wind through the white alder in his backyard. Back in the kitchen a cool breeze blew through the open French door. The smell of night blooming Jasmine filled his immaculate kitchen. He’d always loved that scent.

He finished up his wine, considered having a second glass, then abruptly changed his mind and put the bottle back in the fridge. Shutting and locking the back door, he rinsed out his wine glass and left the kitchen.

He headed toward his media room where he planned to channel surf until tiredness drove him to bed and hopefully sleep.

There was a sharp rap on his front door.

Puzzled he headed toward the front of the house.

David stood in the tiny front courtyard. He was dressed casually in jeans, a golf shirt and the black leather jacket Chris loved on him, so he must have come from home. Chris threw the door open.

“David.”

“Was in the neighborhood,” David said. “Thought I’d stop by, see how you were.”

Liar. There was nothing in this area that would bring David around. But all Chris could do was smile.

David nodded at the Lexus. “You didn’t get your new car today?”

“No, I postponed picking it up until Friday. I wanted to have the day free to help Des with whatever he needed.”

David nodded. “He doing okay?”

“Yes,” answered Chris. “I just left him a few hours ago.” He paused, feeling awkward on the step. “Hey, you want to come in? Can I get you a drink?”

“Beer?”

“Sorry, no beer. Got a nice bottle of white wine.”

“Ah, sure. That would be nice.”

Chris led him through to the kitchen, where he popped the patio doors back open, letting in the night blooming jasmine smell. David took a deep appreciative breath. When he had been coming around more, David had started doing work in the garden, weeding and moving plants around to maximize their growth. As far as Chris was concerned David was a genius with a double green thumb. He could get things to bloom that Chris had long ago given up on. The garden had been his grandmother’s prize. He had always admired what she had left him, but had no idea how to keep it going. He’d been more than happy to leave it in David’s capable hands. Now it was back to being neglected.

David nodded and followed him out to the patio. They both took seats in the Adirondack chairs with a red wood table between them. They sipped their wine silently, then, “What did you come here for, David?” Chris asked softly.

“I, uh, wanted to ask you something...”

“Sure. What?”

David turned and met his gaze. “I’d like you to come with me to the LAPD Christmas party.”

David had never invited him to anything like this before. Walk into the dragon’s den of other LAPD cops and their hetero partners? Chris felt a wave of coldness fill him. But... this was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? For David to invite him into his world, accepting the risks that came with being out there in everyone’s face.

“Uh, I don’t know, David...” Bullshit. He knew and he wanted this so bad. Why kid himself. A huge smile blazed across his face. “Who’s going to be there? Martinez?” He suddenly didn’t mind if Martinez was there. He didn’t care if the Chief of Police was there. “When is it?”

“Sunday. I know it’s not much time, but I was hoping you wouldn’t have other plans... Martinez will be there. With his wife. They get a sitter for the kids.”

“I don’t have any plans. Are you sure, David?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Chris laughed, feeling an unbearable tension leave him. “Then I’d love to go.”

David’s face brightened. “I’ll be by to pick you up around seven-thirty.”

“I’ll be ready.” Chris sipped his wine, watching David do the same. An easy comfortable silence settled between them. Nearby something croaked in the dense garden. Somewhere a dog barked. Another one answered. Chris could hear light traffic sounds down on the Boulevard that ran the length of the reservoir.

“Good.” David reached across the table and lightly touched Chris’s hand.

“What should I wear?” Chris swallowed against a rush of desire. He reined it in. This wasn’t the time or the place. This was a new beginning, and as such, had to be treated like the most delicate thing. He wasn’t going to jeopardize everything he wanted by prematurely rushing David.

“Whatever you want. You’ll look good in anything,” David murmured. Chris stared at his mouth, feeling a pulse beat in his throat.

“No, really,” Chris said. “Is Versace going too far?”

“No. Lots of people will be dressed up.”

David meant the women. So he’d be a peacock among drab geese. He could live with that. He never minded being the center of attention.

“You don’t need to ask me what to wear. You know.”

“Right, my keen fashion sense.”

“Keener than mine.” David grinned. “Listen—you want me to go with you to pick up the car?”

Chris looked at him in surprise. “Yeah, I guess so...”

“I told you I’d teach you how to drive a stick.”

Chris paused. “Actually, I called and switched to one with an automatic. It seemed... prudent.” Chris had picked up on the hesitation in David’s voice when he offered the driving lessons.

Now it was David’s turn to be dejected. “Ah, yeah, okay,” he said. “Well, I guess you won’t need me along.”

Chris picked up on his disappointment. “Tell me a little bit more about this party,” he said, trying to move them back to the earlier happy moment.

David gave him a small smile, conscious of what Chris was doing. “Yes... well it’s the annual toy drive...” he said, launching into an explanation.

They sat and talked for another half an hour, erasing the tension but still not at a place of easy comfort. Even so, Chris was buoyed by the visit and after David left, he sat outside for awhile longer, enjoying the soft evening air and the scent of flowering trees that filled his garden.

CHRIS PICKED UP the phone and dialed Des’s number, listening to three rings before he answered. “Hey, it’s me,” he said.

“Oh, hi, hon,” Des said without any emotion. Chris’s heart sank.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He paused. “I thought I’d hear from you yesterday.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. It was Thanksgiving—I spent the day with my family.”

“Yeah—I watched the Macy’s parade on TV. It seemed like the holiday snuck up on us this year.”

“It did,” said Chris. “And now we’ve got the Christmas frenzy. Listen—the reason I called—I’m picking up my new car today and I was wondering if you wanted to come along. Maybe we can go out for coffee or something afterwards.”