Chapter Eight #2
Before Noah got married, he’d been his protector. Alex had a job, and it was to keep his bestie safe. He’d been with him through the bad years when Noah was in an abusive relationship, and he’d needed him.
They’d been close.
How close?
People always thought they were a couple, when that wasn’t the case. Many times, Alex wished they were, so he could have peace, but the bottom line was that no sane person would date him.
Ever.
Alex was a walking nightmare.
Letting Noah go had been difficult, but now, he had Lawless Jackson, his new partner and husband.
So, he was good.
He no longer needed him.
The only thing worse than being a third wheel was knowing you weren’t needed anymore.
That stung.
Noah had told him that there was no need to worry about him, and that said it all. While he hated that Lawless had replaced him, he loved that Noah finally had a life he deserved.
He was lucky.
Damn.
Lucky.
What wouldn’t Alex give to have that peace? What wouldn’t he give to be wanted and needed?
God knew he’d bedhopped plenty to find it, and hadn’t been able to either.
Only, the bottom line was that he had to let him go because when you loved something, you set it free—even when you knew it would never come back.
So, that’s what he did.
After that, it had been a rough year of bouncing between partners, and feeling lost. It had nearly broken him. One of the things he needed in his life was consistency—to feel safe.
Having no partner to build a bond with only damaged him.
Then, while he was struggling, a miracle happened for him. He’d been paired up with Corbin Price, who was funny as hell, and a decent human being.
He genuinely liked him.
A.
Lot.
There was a deep connection here, and he’d felt it from day one. On top of that, the man was a good investigator, and while he’d been tasked with training him, there wasn’t much he needed to teach him.
In fact, he could probably learn from him.
Without.
A.
Doubt.
The bottom line was that Corbin made him feel like his life had stability, and that if he needed backup, he could trust the man to help him out.
Like with Noah, he had this deep-rooted attraction to the man, and his amazing personality. Some people just made you feel safe, and he absolutely did for him.
Sue him.
He’d grown attached.
“Hey, are you in there?” Corbin asked, touching his partner’s arm to get his attention.
Alex glanced over.
“Yeah, sorry. I was thinking. What did you say?” he asked, curiously.
Corbin repeated himself.
“Did you get the hotel reservation email? I didn’t, and we’re going to have to sleep somewhere tonight. I know protocol says to check in at some point when we arrive on a case.”
Alex pulled out his phone, and scrolled through. That’s when he found the confirmation.
“Yeah, it went to my personal email, not my business one. Check yours.”
Corbin did.
“Oh, there it is. It looks like we’re sharing a room due to a lack of hotels in Holladay.”
Alex shrugged.
That was fine with him.
As long as it was a decent hotel, they’d be good. Plus, the more time he spent with Corbin, the deeper those ties to him became. Honestly, he loved being around him.
“Once upon a time, before Elizabeth was the boss, Gabe boned us all good. We got the shittiest roach coaches. He derived great pleasure in screwing his agents over under the guise it was ‘budgetary restraints’,” he said, laughing.
“Sharing a room in a nice hotel is a luxury. You’ll never hear me complain about it. ”
Well, that was good to know.
Truthfully, Corbin liked his partner.
He was easygoing, even though he was a little off. There was a sadness in him.
Oh, he never said shit about it, but he could see it at the oddest times in his eyes. There would be moments he’d look up, and see the man watching him.
That’s when he saw it. Like it was haunting Alex.
Corbin knew because he’d been there and done that for YEARS after Will had been killed.
He’d bet that Alex lost someone he loved, and there were scars remaining.
“I guess dinner is handled, too,” Corbin admitted. “Dinner with the boss. Thank God I’m dressed up for that date,” he joked.
Alex laughed.
“Well, if anything, you tend to look nice not dressed up,” he offered. “I swear you look too nice, and that’s why the ladies are always hitting on you when we go bowling or to the movies.”
He laughed.
Oh, well, he’d learned to dress up when he’d been married to Will. The man picked out his things for him. To this day, he missed finding random shirts and sweaters in his closet. His old ‘dress up’ habits died hard.
“I just hope that you don’t snore,” Alex joked.
Corbin laughed.
“Me? I don’t. I’m a silent sleeper. You’ll not even hear me,” he stated. “I’m a gentleman in my sleep,” he joked.
Alex didn’t care, really.
It was nice to be on a case, and able to spend some time with someone he valued as his partner. They had built a bond in a short period of time, and he couldn’t imagine not being his partner. Corbin made him forget about Noah, and he knew how big of a thing that truly was.
“Then, dinner with the boss and silent sleeping it is,” Alex said. “I’ll buy you breakfast, and you don’t even have to put out tonight,” he teased.
“Darn, and here I’ve been practicing,” he joked back.
Yeah, Alex amused Corbin, and for a plethora of reasons. One, he was straight, and Corbin was the only gay man in the pairing, and two, the FBI gave them a food budget.
The taxpayers were buying.
Only, before he could say anything, they were no longer alone.
When the door opened, a man walked in, and he was dressed to the nines.
Oh, someone took this city council shit seriously.
“Gentlemen?” he asked.
Alex stood up.
“Mr. Trenton Balkin?”
The man nodded, and sat behind a desk without shaking either man’s hands. That was one hell of a way to start a conversation.
They were off to a bad start.
“I’m to assume this is about what happened today at the building on Market Street,” Trenton stated. “Am I correct in assuming that?”
Both men nodded.
Trenton was off to the races.
“It’s a problematic building,” Trenton admitted. “Only, it’s on the historic registry. The owner, Devon Slater, wants to tear it down, or make it into some cheap apartments, but we can’t allow that. I fear he’s created this situation to make it more difficult for council.”
What?
Was he serious?
Somehow, they doubted that Devon Slater planted jars of eyeballs in order to get the council to do what he wanted. That was a tad bit extreme.
Seriously.
What kind of lunatic would keep that kind of mess in his own building?
Alex was to the point, and didn’t comment on what the man had insinuated. Elizabeth was talking to Slater, and if he was involved, she’d pick up on that. This guy was a little too quick to point fingers.
“A murder took place there,” he said. “We need to know everything you do on the building and owner.”
He laughed.
“What can I tell you? Devon’s father purchased the building, and as it was in the process of being transferred to his ownership, he promised not to change the outer facade of the building.
It’s to stay exactly how it was over a hundred years ago, and that means no tearing it down or making it apartments.
It’s not zoned for that. His son won’t do that, so we have to deny permits. We won’t let that building come down.”
Corbin was curious.
“Even if there are murders going on there, and the place is a mess?”
He was to the point.
“I appreciate that the FBI has come here to handle whatever the situation is. How bad is it?” he asked, ignoring the question Corbin asked.
“Pretty bad. We have multiple victims,” Alex said. “Anything more than that, I can’t give you.”
The man lifted a brow.
“Oh, the homicide captain said it was bad. As in a jar full of mismatched eyeballs. That’s terrible, but that’s not going to make council cave. Like I said, I wouldn’t be surprised if Devon Slater set this up.”
Yowza.
There was no love lost there if the man was accusing the new owner of the building of harvesting all those eyeballs just to get permits passed.
That was extreme.
It was also wild that word spread fast, and by way of the homicide captain. Elizabeth wasn’t going to be happy. The media was going to hear about this at some point.
Without.
A.
Doubt.
“Surely, there’s something you can tell us about the property,” Corbin said.
Trenton wasn’t backing down.
“I can’t. If Devon wants our cooperation, my suggestion is you get the owner to comply with the agreement his father made years ago before acquiring the building. Then, we can buckle it up, and make things happen. The FBI can pass that message along.”
Alex was to the point.
“You’re alluding that we’re here under false pretenses to make your life difficult and help Devon Slater with a civil issue. I can assure you, we’re not.”
The man shrugged.
“I’m only telling you what it looks like to me, and to our council.
Holladay is revitalizing, and our job is to make sure it stays the historic town it once was.
That’s all I can say. Now, if this needs more conversation, then I hope that Deputy Director Elizabeth Blackhawk will head here and have a conversation with me. Captain Volvia said she is here.”
Alex doubted that was going to happen. She sent them there to do this interview, and they weren’t running to her to pass it back.
Elizabeth was busy, and this was minor for her. She was likely focused on the big picture—not the city bureaucrat who had nothing better to do with his time than cockblock permits to be petty.
Who gave a shit about the outside of a building if there were meth heads and dead bodies inside?
Priorities.
Clearly, someone had none.
Before Alex or Corbin could say anything else, or try to talk about Devon, the head of the council went there.
“The FBI won’t be damaging the outer part of the building, correct?” Trenton asked.
Was this dude insane?
Seriously?
Did he think they were going to spray in graffiti ‘the FBI was here’?