Read Jumping at Shadows Online

Authors: R.G. Green

Jumping at Shadows (4 page)

“Judge Kenczik made his ruling yesterday, and there’s not a damn thing you or I can do about it,” Ben Carroll reminded him evenly as Eric turned at the far wall. “If we protest the legality of purging his record too loudly, we’ll be swamped with enough red tape from local, state, and federal agencies to make our own noose. And while we’re busy hanging ourselves with it, we’ll be giving Victor Kroger all the time he needs to bury his activities so far underground we’ll never be able to touch him again.”

“He’ll become a ghost, if he hasn’t already,” Eric muttered darkly. His back was to the window now, and the gray cold outside more than matched his own bitter mood.

It had taken a long time to get someone close enough to Victor’s inner circle to take part in any business transactions, and Eric didn’t envy the time Detective David McKennon had put into doing just that. With no wife or kids, no family of any sort depending on him, McKennon had volunteered for the assignment, though he had been granted it only after an extensive and thorough interview conducted by Eric himself. Giving up your life for an indefinite period of time for the sake of an undercover assignment was a major decision, and Eric had wanted to make sure the man was prepared for the sacrifices. Eric had sacrificed his own time more than once for the sake of an operation, and every single time the worry—the
fear
—that T.J. might not be waiting for him when it was over was very, very real. But T.J. had always been there, with their grass cut, their bills paid, and their bed ready to be filled. Grateful didn’t even begin to describe how Eric felt.

But you can only worm your way into criminal consortiums so many times in the same city before your face becomes known to far too many people. And that was where guys like David McKennon came in—new enough to the department not to be recognized on sight, and willing to do the jobs veterans like Eric were no longer able to. In the operation against Victor Kroger, McKennon had done it well.

Audio recordings of plans being made and set into motion, taped footage of money and goods changing hands, actual written documents stolen from under Victor Kroger’s nose—the actual
books
of his transactions—all deemed irrelevant by Judge Abraham Kenczik less than twenty-four hours ago. And McKennon had zero chance of ever getting close to Victor Kroger again, let alone getting the evidence to convict him. Even the two months of paid leave the man was now enjoying out of state were little compensation for close to a year spent wasting his time.

Yet that wasn’t where the real cost lay. Eric was entitled to the same two months, but he had turned it down flat. His job wasn’t done. The promotion from the street meant Eric was now one of those in charge of who went where, for what assignment and for how long. Although McKennon may have done the legwork willingly, it was Eric who shouldered the responsibility, and whether the end result was his fault or not, he knew he had cost the man a year of his life. McKennon might think twice before volunteering again, and Eric wouldn’t blame him. Watching your work shredded in public view in a high-profile court was a worst-case scenario, and even for those watching from the sidelines, it could be particularly disillusioning. Given yesterday’s disaster, the possibility of getting another detective inside was almost a moot point.

“It’s too dangerous to send someone else in,” Capt. Carroll broke in as Eric’s pacing continued, reading Eric’s emotions if not his thoughts. “McKennon gave us the inside scoop on how Kroger operates, but he also gave him fair warning to watch his step. You can bet Kroger’s watching us just as closely as we’re watching him.”

“We don’t stand a chance of getting anyone inside again, not for a long, long time,” Eric growled in bitter agreement. Long enough for both sides to forget. “We have to go at this another way.”

Captain Carroll’s large, uniformed body shifted, his crossed arms adjusting with the movement. He pursed his mustached-topped lips and tilted his balding head. Whatever was present in Eric’s voice, the captain had heard it. “What is your suggestion, Detective Geller?”

Eric stopped and met his superior’s solid gaze evenly. “Go after the judge.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, or even a stab in the dark. Eric had been toying with the idea as he crossed the captain’s pale-rose rug wall to wall. Hell, he had been toying with it while he drew T.J. out of a sound sleep by swallowing his cock whole. T.J. had told him to try again, to make Victor Kroger make different mistakes. Start where you have to. Sometime in the night, Eric’s mind had honed the suggestion into something concrete:
start with the judge
. Victor might not have to make a different mistake—he might have already made one.

“Prove the judge was paid off or coerced into dismissing the trial and we may be able to get another one.
With
the evidence we have.”

The captain nodded. The unsurprised look on his face implied that he had already considered the idea, but both of them knew the dangers of going down that road.

“Judges generally don’t like to be investigated,” he reminded Eric carefully. Cautioning, not condemning. “Do you have a plan?”

Eric scowled. “I’m working on it,” he muttered, twisting back to his path across the rug. Having a goal and reaching it were entirely different things, and anything remotely involving investigating a judge would require careful planning and considerable discretion. And a hell of a lot of patience.

A knock on the door stopped his pacing, and Eric turned as it swung open with a rattle of blinds against glass. He had closed the blinds himself before this meeting began and had done the same to the blinds on the windows spanning the wall next to the door before the first words were spoken. It was a clear signal of the need for privacy, so any interruption was bound to be important.

The blonde head of Officer Marie Collier appeared through the crack between the door and the frame. The makeup on her face made it a safe bet that she would be at the public address to the media the captain had scheduled for this morning. A press conference to gloss over yesterday’s disaster in the courtroom, smooth the feathers of the city’s judicial faction, and convince the public that Breten City’s law enforcement officials really did know what they were doing. It would be a circus, and one Eric was thankful he had been spared.

“They’re here, sir,” Officer Collier announced succinctly after nodding at Eric in greeting and apology. “They’re setting up out front and should be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, Officer Collier,” Capt. Carroll told her by way of dismissal, and the blonde head vanished with another rattle of blinds.

It was the signal that their meeting was officially over. Eric watched silently as the captain stood and began smoothing out the wrinkles in his uniform, pinching off the invisible lint that would be glaring in the spotlight. He didn’t envy the captain’s required appearance in front of every news outlet able to get someone to the precinct in time for the conference. Captain Carroll was an old pro at it, though, and very good at what was mostly considered a necessary evil. As far as Eric was concerned, he was welcome to it. Eric preferred it behind the scenes. Less time away from home, less scrutiny of his activities. Given the way his ass still stung as he moved, he figured the less scrutiny the better.

“Let me know what you plan to do
before
you do it,” the captain told him as he finished preening. “And don’t take too long. The public isn’t the only ones screaming for blood about now.”

“Yes, sir,” Eric answered dutifully, but he couldn’t help grinning as he held the door open for the captain to exit. “Give ’em hell, sir.”

“Go to hell, Geller,” the captain answered promptly, though without any real heat. Then with a weary sigh, he stepped through the door into the waiting chaos. “You can join the rest of us there.”

 

 


T
HE
Breten City Police Department and all of its associated agencies stand behind the decision rendered by the Honorable Judge Kenczik, and we will support his decision concerning the prosecution of Victor Kroger.”


Fuck…!
” Eric’s hands fought for purchase among the scattered pillows of the overstuffed couch, his body rocking forward as T.J. drove deep into his upturned ass. It had been T.J.’s idea to bend him over the back, and T.J.’s hand that had guided Eric’s own leaking cock into the tight crease where seatback cushions crowded together. Every driving thrust of his lover’s hips scraped his balls across the top while forcing his cock through the sheath of tightly stitched fabric. Fucking the couch while being fucked from behind had been making Eric crazy with lust since the first time they had tried it years ago, and even now he writhed over the stiff, thick padding to increase the friction as T.J. moved inside him, heedless of the burn of the fabric against his skin.

“The respect this department holds for Judge Kenczik is untarnished, and the privilege we feel to work closely with him and his peers in making our city safe is very real. Judge Kenczik is an asset to our community, and one that we do not take lightly, neither in word nor deed.”


God, T.J.…! Harder!

The couch shifted across the ice-gray carpet as T.J. complied, but its muffled sound was lost under the drone of the broadcast news. Eric had stayed to listen to the speech in person, and T.J. had seen the recorded broadcast earlier. Platitudes and fluff was all it amounted to, full of public praise for Judge Kenczik’s actions while the simmering anger the department shared remained private. It was designed to placate the masses, show them a united front, and prevent the public from realizing that
they
were every bit as angry as the ordinary citizen at the outcome of the trial. Eric had remained as stone-faced throughout the event as those whose faces were unlucky enough to be shown on the newsfeed appeared to be.


T.J.…! Fuck…!
” Fabric raked across his hips; then his words broke off in a shattered cry as the friction against his cock became too much, and his back arched sharply as the waves of release crashed over him. Balanced with his hands clenched in the couch cushions, his hips continued to rock against the overstuffed back, his cock pulsing as cum burst out in streams strong enough to reach the seat and the floor. T.J. didn’t relent as Eric’s seed soaked the cushions, but pounded harder, groaning as Eric’s ass clenched around him, until he finally slammed in hard and deep, and his own cock shot deep inside Eric’s channel. Their bodies continued to rock as their orgasms merged and peaked, each riding the other through the pleasure before slowing as the heady rush receded, leaving them sweaty and panting, with their hearts still beating furiously in their chests. The fingers on Eric’s hips loosened, and Eric relaxed his arms as he half collapsed over the cushioned back. A low moan of pleasure escaped when a hand stroked gently down his back.

“Let me out, baby,” T.J. breathed over him, and Eric forced himself to relax to let his lover’s cock slip free. Gentle hands circled his waist, and Eric let himself be pulled up and turned. He smiled tenderly when he saw the flushed, streaked face of his lover and the dark, sated look in his eyes. T.J.’s hands slid farther around him as he pulled Eric close, and each leaned exhaustedly on the other as their lips met. Eric’s hands tangled in sweat-dampened hair as T.J.’s hands cradled his lower back, and each let out a breath of pure pleasure when their sensitive cocks touched. The sex had been fantastic, but just now Eric was content with the feel of his lover’s tongue as it stretched out to taste his own.

“We are proud of the wisdom Judge Kenczik has shown in the matter of Victor Kroger’s trial, and of his resistance to being influenced by anything other than absolute justice. His actions have served as both a lesson and a reminder that there can be no uncertainty when it comes to enforcing our laws and protecting our citizens.”

“You’re going to be suffering for that tomorrow,” T.J. whispered softly, withdrawing his tongue just enough to taste his lover’s lips. “You don’t have to be the only one who has trouble walking, you know.”

Eric breathed a soft laugh as he sought to catch that wandering tongue again. It wasn’t a secret between them that T.J. preferred to top, though he wouldn’t argue with bottoming if that was what Eric wanted. And though Eric would fuck T.J. on occasion, he clearly preferred being fucked instead, feeling every inch as T.J. penetrated him, feeling his cum as it burned into his core. There was little doubt that Eric would indeed be sore tomorrow, but it was a soreness Eric relished and would probably beg for again before the night was over.

“We’d better sit, or we’ll probably fall down,” was his answer to T.J.’s words, and he untangled himself enough to draw them both around the couch, wrapping his hand in T.J.’s as they circled the arm. They both paused when they saw the damp stains on the seat cushions and back of the couch, patches darker than the hunter green of the fabric, with streaks of white that hadn’t yet dissipated. Eric chuckled at the sight.

“Good thing we don’t have a housekeeper, or that might be difficult to explain,” he said laughingly, pulling T.J. forward again. He didn’t hesitate over sitting on the mess, however, or leaning back to stretch his body out as he pulled T.J. down on top of him. A few moments of twisting and shifting had them positioned more comfortably, with Eric on his side facing the TV and T.J. nestled behind him. It was another moment or two before Eric had gotten the pillows adjusted appropriately, and then T.J.’s arm came to rest around his waist, soothing the abraded skin on his hips, and he pressed his back into his lover’s body. Fingers entwined over his stomach as the captain’s speech came to an end.

“We greatly regret that errors in our own actions impeded the course of justice at this time, and it is with sincere gratitude that we offer our thanks to Judge Kenczik for correcting our errors before a miscarriage of justice was committed. Thank you.”

Capt. Carroll turned his back to the cameras immediately after his final words, returning to the doors of the precinct without waiting for questions. Officer Marie Collier was taped opening the door as he made his exit, and her stiff and polished figure vanished through it a moment later. Video cut back to the news station then, and the anchor on duty began his summary of events, more or less repeating the words that Capt. Carroll had said that morning.

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