Read Jumping at Shadows Online

Authors: R.G. Green

Jumping at Shadows (10 page)

The routine announcement of the latest in the Victor Kroger saga was unsurprising and came on the heels of the dire information concerning the ice-coated streets currently crippling the city. Eric was glad that neither he nor T.J. would have to risk navigating them today, as Perlman Engineering would remain closed because of the weather, and any work Eric had to do could be done by phone. As long as the power remained on and the phone lines didn’t snap.

“Public opinion varies concerning what has been called ‘a determined lack of pursuit’, and Breten City Police Captain Benjamin Carroll has had to face tough questions surrounding Victor Kroger’s release from custody.”

The broadcast image immediately changed to a video clip of Captain Carroll marching to the doors of the precinct at an even earlier hour that morning, well before the gray light of dawn had fully lightened the sky, and he was closely tailed by a swarm of die-hard media reporters braving the ice to get the scoop. The picture wavered as the cameramen hurried to keep up, and more than once it skewed altogether as the treacherous footing caused a slip.

“Captain! Are you pursuing any other leads to capture Victor Kroger?” shouted one unseen reporter from behind the waving wall of microphones.

“Are you taking any measures to overturn Victor’s release from custody?” shouted another.

“Are you worried about a lawsuit for unjustified arrest?”

T.J. shook his head, shoveling another bite of eggs and toast into his mouth. “I don’t envy your captain at times like that,” he said after swallowing. “Neither rain nor sleet nor dark of night will keep the rabid reporter away from a headline.” His eyes twinkled as he gave Eric, seated on the couch beside him, a sidelong look. “Just think, in a few years it could be you running that gauntlet.”

“God, I hope not,” Eric muttered, shaking his head. “I’d rather do what I do now without the higher paycheck than do
that.
” He elbowed T.J. when his lover chuckled, then continued eating his own breakfast from the plate balanced in his hand. The shouts from the reporters continued.

“Will Victor Kroger receive compensation for his undue arrest?”

“What actions have you taken in your department in light of this mistake by your subordinates?”

“Do you think the release was justified?”

Captain Carroll said nothing as the volley of questions continued, remaining sure-footed and undistracted as he stalked up the steps to the double-paned doors and reached for the ice-coated handle. Two uniformed officers stood sentry under the steel awning on either side of the door, bundled against the cold as they heeded the warnings that reporters were likely, since the public wanted answers. The reporters stopped at the bottom, though the questions didn’t cease, and it looked like they would all go unanswered—until one that was blurted out suddenly made the captain stop before he could slip inside.

“Are you still following Victor Kroger?”

Eric stilled with his fork half-raised, the heavily peppered eggs forgotten as his gaze shot to the TV. It was a dangerous question, and he felt his own heartbeat increase as his captain turned slowly to the reporter who had asked it—the
reporter
, not the cameraman. All other questions trailed away at the prospect of finally receiving an answer—any answer—and the scrambling cameramen finally had the opportunity to fix their shots on the captain’s glowering expression.

“No,” Capt. Carroll bit out, clearly and firmly. “The case against Victor Kroger has been dismissed and officially closed. Until or unless Mr. Kroger gives us reason to suspect his actions, this department has no reason to monitor his whereabouts or his activities. Good day.”

Capt. Carroll entered the building without another look back, and the TV switched back to the news anchor for a recap of the footage and a repeat of the single answer the Captain had given.

“Close call,” T.J. murmured, though Eric wasn’t sure if even T.J. fully realized just how close it was.

“It’s part of the politics,” Eric muttered darkly, turning back to his breakfast with a feeling very close to relief. “In situations like that, omission is sometimes as good as
admission
. He had to say
something
.” Because even scum like Victor Kroger could press harassment charges if there was a chance it was justified. He sighed as he finished his last bite, then placed his empty plate on the coffee table before leaning back into the couch, draping his hand over T.J.’s thigh.

Habit had gotten them up early that morning, and they had stayed up even though an early call from Perlman assured them that T.J. wouldn’t be required to show up at work. Donning sweats instead of jeans had been a welcome change for a weekday morning, and with no urgency to leave the house, they could actually watch the morning news rather than listen to it on the radio. The ice was predicted to continue throughout most of the day, and the list of schools and businesses that would remain closed continually trailed across the bottom of the television screen. The list of accidents that followed the Captain’s recorded footage was nearly as long as the business closings.

T.J. discarded his plate beside Eric’s as the drone of the newscast continued on, and he propped his elbow on the back of the couch as the topic changed from news to weather to sports. By the time the broadcast neared its end, his temple rested on his curled fingers, and Eric had slouched into a more comfortable position that had him leaning against the side of his lover with his hand a little deeper between his thighs. Eric knew he would need to call in to the precinct soon to take care of business, but not just yet. With a full stomach to take his mind off his hunger, his thoughts turned to the other things they could be doing before business intruded on their day.

“We should go back to bed,” he said silkily, sliding his hand a little higher as he nestled in a little closer. He could still feel the raw twinge in his ass and the pull of the bruises on his hips from the grip of T.J.’s fingers last night, and they were the only reasons they had not yet taken care of their morning hard-ons. Neither of the pains were a particular problem, though. Eric might prefer bottom, but topping was never out of question, and God knew T.J. had an ass that made him wonder why he didn’t fuck it more. He almost purred when T.J. covered his hand with his own and brought them both to touch the prominent line of his cock beneath the fleece.

“Trying to tell me something, baby?” T.J. asked innocently as he made a languid move of his hips against their palms. The squeeze Eric gave in response darkened his twinkling eyes.

“I was just thinking that maybe I shouldn’t be the only one suffering from a sore ass today,” Eric answered, low and teasing, dragging his hand over the fleece as he stroked from root to tip, adding pressure as he slid it back down. “There’s a warm bed, lots of lube, and nowhere to go. Sounds like opportunity is knocking.”

T.J. growled softly, pressing their palms a little harder. “Sounds like we shouldn’t keep it waiting.” He leaned over for a light, licking kiss. “Let me check the kitchen to make sure we don’t catch the place on fire.”

Eric didn’t have the chance to protest before T.J. pulled them to their feet, and he was forced to let go of both the kiss and the cock as he was pushed gently toward the front door. While the neighborhood was generally considered safe and they had never had a break-in, Eric wasn’t about to get complacent with security, and checking the locks was mere routine. It was just another habit that afterward he pulled the curtain away from the floor-to-ceiling window beside the door for a quick glance outside—and he nearly jumped at the glass in startled surprise.

“Eric? What’s going on?”

Eric didn’t answer, but he heard T.J.’s movement behind him, and he knew without looking that his lover had reached the matching window on the other side of the door. What he saw outside was obvious: a car inching its way through the sleet in front of their house. Eric couldn’t clearly see the driver or the passenger, but he recognized the make and model of the car, if not the year. It was a dark Lexus, and a little too rich for this neighborhood.

“It’s the weather slowing him down,” T.J. murmured from his window. “The roads have to be a sheet of ice by now.”

“I don’t recognize the car,” Eric answered him, following the vehicle’s slow progression. “It’s certainly not from this neighborhood.”

T.J. frowned. “He could be visiting or lost. Or more likely just passing through.”

Eric grunted softly. “We’re kind of out of the way for someone wanting a shortcut,” he told him bluntly, never taking his eyes from the vehicle. The car moved slowly but didn’t stop, and he watched the taillights until they vanished from view, feeling a chill that had little to do with the frosty glass he was peering through. Seconds ticked by without the Lexus reappearing, and at last Eric let the curtain fall back into the place. T.J. had already done so and stood frowning at him when Eric turned to face him.

“It’s just a car, baby. Whether he’s late, lost, or stupid, he was still most likely just passing through.”

Eric sighed, his nerves still dancing as he glanced back at the curtained window. A Lexus,
here
? “Yeah, maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe,” T.J. echoed teasingly, crossing in front of the door to reach him. His hands on Eric’s hips got his attention, and the bump as he brought them together reminded them
and
their cocks of where they had been going. “Bed, baby. Your ass may be sore, but mine’s not.” He nipped Eric’s nose. “Yet.”

“You certainly have a way with words,” Eric said approvingly, and he had to smile despite what his nerves were telling him about the Lexus outside their house. T.J. may have been right: the car might just be lost, which meant the driver would learn soon enough that he would have to turn around to get back to the main highway. And it was a Lexus, not an Altima.

Still, he couldn’t help looking over his shoulder as they moved into the hall, and he couldn’t keep the frown from returning as he stared at the solid, unmoving curtain covering the window.

 

 

“A
L
EXUS
?
They’re all over every city on the map coast to coast, and there are no laws against them driving on any road that has public access. Not good enough, Geller.”

Capt. Carroll didn’t make any attempt to hide the impatience in his tone, and it reverberated clearly over the cell phone connection. Eric scowled as he shifted his stance beside the kitchen table, and he forced himself to listen again to how he was blowing things out of proportion. The smell of salt and butter accompanied the gentle pop of popcorn sizzling in the microwave, and T.J. was already pulling out the large bowl he would pour it into. Sex had led to a nap that had lasted through lunch, and movies and popcorn had sounded better to both of them than an actual lunch with sustenance. The movie they had picked out was already loaded in the DVD player, and Eric had just finished his latest “meeting” with his team. Reporting to the captain was the last bit of business to take care of.

“A vehicle of that caliber doesn’t just go wandering around in random neighborhoods in weather like this,” Eric repeated bitingly when the captain paused. He ignored T.J.’s raised eyebrow.

“Did you see a camera?” the captain cut in pointedly. “Or, God help us, a gun? Did you see him deliberately casing your house? Did he stop and look? Did you see
anything
besides some jackass driving down the road in a damn ice storm in a fucking Lexus?”

They both knew the answers to those questions.

“Fine,” Eric muttered into his cell. “If you say I’ve got nothing, then I’ve got nothing. But that doesn’t mean I’m letting it go.”

“Now look,” the captain went on, softening only slightly. “I’m not about to say that Victor Kroger is out of the picture or that you even consider letting your guard down while he is still on the street, but there is a difference between attention to detail and seeing things that aren’t there. If you’ve got a plate, we’ll run it. A description, and we’ll pull out the mug shots. Any questionable activity at all, and we’ll put out a BOLO. But driving slowly in icy conditions? Just because it’s on your road doesn’t make it a criminal activity. Now, are you going to give me a real reason to hunt this vehicle down?”

A heavy silence ensued.

“I didn’t think so,” Capt. Carroll finished shortly. “Now, when you’ve got something to go on, you’d damn well better let me know. But until then—
until then
—you
will
let it go. Got it? Another fiasco like the trial and it won’t be the public or media tearing us apart.” That ending up on the wrong side of the city prosecutor would not be pleasant was left unsaid. “And you had better hope your people find something worthwhile soon, Geller. The longer this goes on, the closer it gets to my having to pull the plug on it. Judge Kenczik would like nothing more than to have our badges over this, and I’m not about to give him the opportunity.”

That threat was clear and unquestionable. “I’ll keep you informed,” Eric promised darkly. Then he thumbed the phone off as T.J. pulled the popcorn from the microwave. His team was working but had yet to find anything incriminating, and as the captain had so graciously informed him, a Lexus on the street wasn’t enough for the police blotter, let alone any investigative action. He was still scowling as he watched the steaming, fluffy kernels land in the bowl.

“Do you think I’m overreacting?” he asked T.J. suddenly, drawing his gaze away from the popcorn to focus on T.J.’s face. He knew what his captain and department thought, but he really wanted to hear what his lover’s answer would be.

T.J. hesitated and then turned carefully to face him while popping one fluffy white kernel into his mouth. When he answered, it was honestly. “I think those pictures are freaking you out, and making you so desperate to catch whoever took them—Victor or his thugs—that you’re seeing the things you want to see, even if maybe they’re not there.”

Eric let out a huff of breath, then glanced at his phone before tossing it on the table. “That’s a long way of saying ‘yes’.”

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