Chapter Ten #3
God knew he was too selfish to ever put anyone else first in his world. That was also likely why he couldn’t find a lady to settle down with either.
They saw his shit coming a mile away.
“So he’s going to be heading back here at some point, so when he does, keep him occupied. We’ve found that with Corbin, if you let him do things unsupervised, bad shit happens, and often,” Gene admitted.
Oh, well, on that they agreed, and Greyson was responsible for all of them while they were down here. The last thing he wanted was to find out someone got hurt—because then Gabe would find out that Corbin was down there too.
That would bring up uncomfortable questions for Gene, Ethan, and himself.
“Can do,” he offered.
When his phone rang, he picked it up and saw who it was. Today just might be their lucky day after all. The IT trolls were on top of the form intake.
“Croft.”
He sat there, and he listened. Then, miracle of miracles, he picked up his pen, and scribbled something on the outside of a folder he had.
They now had access to the dead man’s desktop. They didn’t need his laptop—they had remote access.
“I appreciate it. Thanks for contacting me so quickly. Have a good day.”
When he hung up, he had good news.
“Guess who has his password and information to log into Jarod Shand’s tech? Apparently, Gabe was notified we wanted access, and he cleared it.”
That was good news.
It would help them move quicker through this mess to see if the man had any information on the desktop for whatever case he was working.
“We need the report he filed, too.”
That was easier.
Greyson could download that.
“Well, log out of your desktop, and into his. We can still hit his place, but we can go into his home with something we found out in his casefile notes, maybe,” Ethan admitted.
That they could.
Everyone’s fingers were crossed that they’d find some information.
As Greyson did what he asked, they saw the man’s desktop appear on Greyson’s computer. It was neat and tidy, and there was a picture of him and his coworkers on the backdrop.
It appeared they were a close group of friends, since it wasn’t in the workplace. They had gone out and were sitting in a restaurant at the beach.
Behind them, the sun was setting, and they were all smiling.
Yeah, that didn’t happen at all the other bigger offices. Too many people worked opposite shifts, and you couldn’t go for drinks in Philly at night if you were on the clock.
This was a weird place.
That was for sure.
It was like the office that Gabe forgot.
As Greyson began opening files, he saw one in particular that got his attention.
“It’s his notes that he turned in for his reports,” Gene said, recognizing the file numbers.
They ran in order, and they used the filer’s initials along with his partner’s, if he had one. Like this case would be GCEB-zero-zero-one-zero-three, when he turned it in to Greyson.
Their initials and the one hundred and third case they worked as partners.
“There’s his latest,” Ethan said, pointing at the screen.
So, that was the one he opened.
When it popped up, Greyson read over it, and shared with the two men.
“He was working a co-case with the local police,” he offered. “It seems he caught a murder, and passed it off to the local LEOS because they wanted jurisdiction. Only, from his notes, it looked like he decided to keep digging anyway. That tells me he was a good investigator,” Greyson admitted.
On that, they agreed.
From where he sat beside Gene, Ethan was curious.
“Who was the victim in the case he was working, and what happened?” he asked.
Greyson pointed at one name, and it stood out to both men.
‘Aaron Figueroa.’
“It doesn’t say what happened, but I can look it up,” Greyson offered.
Oh, no need.
As soon as they both saw the dead-man’s name, they knew what was going on.
TROUBLE.
How did they know?
“Uh, that was the victim right before Jarod,” Gene said, cluing him in.
Then, he shared how he knew, because the look on Greyson’s face was of confusion.
“Last night, Corbin was researching and came up with the same names. We have some issues in paradise,” Gene admitted. “All three victims showed up on the beach in the general location. One of them was Jarrod, one was Aaron Figueroa, and one was Jaden Mendin.”
Greyson stared at him, and he didn’t like the implications of that.
Not.
At.
All.
“Seriously?” he asked.
Ethan nodded.
“And guess why the cops wanted Aaron Figueroa’s case tossed back toward them?” he asked, since now, they were putting two and two together from the man’s notes, and what they already knew.
He couldn’t imagine.
“Why?” Greyson asked.
Blackhawk shared.
“He’s a cop, and that’s his house,” he said, pointing at the precinct number.
“I’m going to bet that when the cop died, they wanted to work the case in-house, like we would insist. They likely reached out to Jarod, and he handed it over, but according to his notes you just opened, he was planning on continuing independently. ”
Greyson pulled up the report on his laptop, and showed them what it said.
In the notes section to whoever would be reading the report, it said one thing.
‘I have been contacted by the local police who have requested that we let them have jurisdiction of Detective Aaron Figueroa’s case.
I spoke to Director Rothschild, and he’s instructed me to return jurisdiction.
Only, something about this is bothering me, so I plan on keeping it on the back burner and digging into it when I have some time. ’
And there it was.
“So Gabe cut it free because it was just a body washed on shore?” Greyson asked.
Gene nodded.
“You know he’s not going to fight for an isolated case especially when we’re running low on agents?
He wouldn’t care if it came in like a drug running case, or if it was something the FBI had jurisdiction on.
Jarod likely asked via email, and Gabe’s so overwhelmed, he told him to cut his losses. You know how it is,” Gene said.
The man was right.
Still, this was chaos and Greyson knew it. Of course, with this office—sans a director—would be more than willing to hand it back over. They wouldn’t want to make waves with the local police over the case.
This screamed clusterfuck and Greyson knew it.
“So, Jarrod died after working a case where someone else died the same way as he did?” he asked.
Blackhawk was willing to bet money on it that the three men were connected.
“How much do you want to bet that if you call the precinct, as an FBI agent, and ask Aaron’s boss what he was working on, that he says Jaden Mendin’s murder?” he said, taking an educated guess.
Well, he wasn’t taking that bet because he knew when Ethan had a gut instinct on something, it generally panned out. Plus, all of this sounded hella weird to him.
So, Greyson pulled out his phone, and punched in the number on the report that Jarrod Shand had filed with Gabe, referencing the local PD.
When it rang, he started handling business.
As he pushed up from the table, he took a walk to have some privacy as he strong-armed the cops for the FBI. There would be no way they were going in blind.
If there was a shitstorm brewing, they weren’t getting caught up in it.
No.
Freaking.
Way.
As soon as he was gone, and the conference room door was closed behind their friend, Gene grinned at his man.
“Thinking about me?” he asked, knowing he absolutely was. “A little birdie was saying someone was checking out my ass.”
Ethan nodded.
God.
He absolutely was.
“Yes, I was.”
Oh, that made Gene giddy. What he wanted to do was pepper the day, and case, with random flirting to keep the momentum going when it came to turning on his man.
“I don’t think you were being lowkey about it, Tala. Someone’s got sex on the brain, and a cage on his cock.”
The man swallowed.
If Greyson didn’t realize that Gene was well aware of all of the people who were checking him out, specifically a Native man wearing a cock cage, then he was out of his mind.
That was the point of making his Tala wear one.
You didn’t have to get horny if your Top kept you horny. That was their new motto.
Forever.
“How’s one of my favorite parts of you?” he asked, stealing a kiss from his man while they had the room to themselves.
Why not?
From the tension in Ethan’s body, there was no doubt in his mind that someone was thinking about sex now just as much as Gene wanted him to.
Oh, and flirting was a damn good time.
PERIOD.
The kiss was deep, and it was a hot tangle of tongues that was enough to take the heat up in the room.
Ethan moaned.
His brain was on overload the second Gene kissed him. Before that, he could concentrate, but now, his focus was myopic.
In fact, he was lost in the sensation of his man tasting like coffee, and peppermint gum.
Yeah, Ethan was there for it.
When Gene’s hand went into his hair, and held on, he was in his glory.
Seriously.
Blackhawk wanted to beg for more.
That’s how good it felt to be this man’s helpless, sexual prey. Ethan hoped that never ended.
As Gene kissed him, his body was taut with need, too. The way Ethan’s hair felt like silk as it was clenched in his fist always made him a happy, happy man.
The only place he liked it more was when Ethan was blowing him, and it was tickling his balls and thighs.
When his partner moaned, he knew why.
The cage.
Someone was in pain, which then brought pleasure.
Slowly, he broke the kiss to stare into his eyes. They were dilated, and his body was breathless.
Just how he liked him.
“So, Tala, tell Daddy how to make you feel good,” he whispered, his lips right next to his.
Ethan couldn’t think.
His one hand was on Gene’s shoulder, and his other was clenched in his shirt.
Holding.
On.
His brain was overheating, and all he could feel was that throbbing of his dick being locked in the cock cage. It wanted to stand upright in the worst way, but it wasn’t allowed.