Vespa Crabro (Andi Hayes Detective #4)

Chapter 1

TRAPPED

“Daniel, I need your help.”

“And hello to you too, beloved little brother.”

George took the time to hold his phone away from his ear to scowl at it. This was an emergency, and Daniel was making fun of him. Yes, it was true, he could have started with ‘Hello’.

“I’m sorry. I just talked to Mom.”

“Ooh, and you’re forgiven.” Daniel chuckled. “Though let me add it’s your own damn fault. You’ve been avoiding her for months now, George. That was never going to fly.”

George sighed. He tucked the cell between his ear and shoulder so his hands were free to pull the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies from the cupboard.

Andi was outside doing a round of yoga and would appreciate a tray full of sugar-reduced goodness.

Or so George hoped. Living with Andi gave him the wonderful advantage of being able to monitor Andi’s diet closely, and his hard work was bearing the first fruits, even if he said so himself.

His boyfriend had gained no less than five badly needed pounds and was looking healthier all around.

“I know. But what was I supposed to tell her? Oh, Mom, by the way, the man I’m living with—as in the living conditions you do not approve of because Andi is my partner on the force—that man, he’s also my boyfriend. That wouldn’t fly either.”

“True. So to what do I owe your call? And did it make you happy saying Andi is your boyfriend?”

“I hate you. Yes. It did. And I’m calling because it has to fly now. Or rather, in five weeks, on my birthday.”

There was a long moment of silence during which George found the bowl he wanted to use to make the dough as well as the hand mixer.

His brother had recently quit the military police and was now an internal investigator for the Army Rangers, a job that would further his career and no doubt help him figure out what George hadn’t told him yet.

“Oh. Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.” George put the call on speaker, deposited his cell on the windowsill above the kitchen counter and started measuring flour and sugar.

“Have you told Andi?”

“Not yet. He’s in the garden, and Mom just called.

But he’ll know the minute he comes into the house.

” Depending on how focused he was on his yoga, he might already know that something was brewing.

The arthropods in the house were terrible tattletales, especially the silverfish, which were notorious for ratting George out.

Sometimes, it made his life easier, because not having to talk about everything was a greater relief than he ever thought possible.

Sometimes it made his life harder, like potentially now, when Andi could sense that something was amiss but didn’t know what exactly.

His boyfriend and partner was usually good at letting George deal with things himself before he even thought of butting in.

And because he was a damn good detective, he had an uncanny knack for butting in when it was most inconvenient.

“How do you manage living with him? I remember distinctly that we all had a huge party the moment we were able to escape Mom’s scrutiny.” Daniel sounded wistful, probably fondly remembering the insane nights of drinking when first Griff, then he, and lastly, George, had left their parents’ home.

“He’s nothing like mom.” That much was true.

In some ways, Andi was a lot more accurate when gauging George’s moods than their mother could have ever been.

He also didn’t care about the things their mom had gone nuts over—making a bad impression somewhere (Andi was the definition of bad impressions and didn’t give a damn), leaving the house in disarray (Andi wasn’t messy but didn’t have energy to waste on excessive cleaning and didn’t expect it from others either), having the wrong friends/acquaintances (Andi had few friends and didn’t make acquaintances), or tipping his hand in front of somebody who could be considered an enemy (as far as Andi was concerned, everybody was an enemy, which made the point of having them kind of moot—it was a twisted kind of logic, but it worked for him).

“That’s what I hope for you. Anything else would be weird, even for you.”

“I swear, if I didn’t need you right now.

” George started whisking the butter with the sugar by hand, partly to vent some of his nervous energy and partly because it was a workout opportunity he wouldn’t pass up, even though not many people seemed to know about the great things baking could do for their muscle tone.

Daniel snickered.

“Any ideas on how to approach this? Do I tell her now, over the phone, where she can’t eviscerate me with a look, or do I wait till you’re all here, hoping she won’t make a scene in front of Andi?”

“I’d go for option B,” Daniel said a little too fast.

“You just don’t want to miss the show.” George worked the butter a little harder, the wooden spoon making clinking noises against the glass bowl.

“Can you blame me?”

“With your new job, I thought you’d get plenty of entertainment.” The butter was now almost white, and the sugar melted completely. Time for the eggs.

“Yeah, but it’s usually bloodier and a lot less funny.

” Daniel’s tone suggested he was still getting used to his new job and was unwilling to discuss any problems. George could live with that.

He had enough of his own. And Daniel would come to him when he really needed help.

“As much as I’m hoping for a good show, I think it would be safer to tell her within the next few days.

On the phone. Then she has plenty of time to get used to the idea before she comes here. ”

“Time to get used to what before who comes here?” Andi entered the kitchen on silent, naked feet, looking at George with his head cocked to the left. “Daniel? Did you make my man nervous, kind of fidgety, too much energy, not bad, anticipatory, not joy either, something big?”

“Hi, Andi.” Daniel chuckled. “I’ve missed your brand of crazy.”

Since George talked regularly to Daniel, it was inevitable for him and Andi to get to know each other at least over the phone.

They had yet to meet in person. Perhaps because of this distance, which allowed Andi to interact with Daniel without all the additional information he always got when being among people, the two had established a strange camaraderie.

For Andi, Daniel was a rare gift, a person he could interact with like all the ‘normal’ people did—arthropods didn’t telegraph through the phone, after all.

For Daniel, Andi was a mystery he wanted to solve but not enough to forgo the entertainment every talk with Andi provided him.

George knew Daniel still thought Andi was somewhere on the autistic spectrum, which suited George and Andi perfectly, as it gave his partner some leeway to be himself with George’s brother.

How things would progress once the two met in person was anyone’s guess, but until then, George was glad his lover had this.

“Hi, Daniel. What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“Then why is George beating the eggs and butter as if they personally offended him?” Andi looked pointedly at the glass bowl, where the cookie dough had gotten to the perfect consistency without George noticing. He sighed and stopped whisking. Time to fold in the flour.

He opened his mouth to explain the situation, but Daniel was faster. “Because he fucked up and has to face the consequences and doesn’t know how to make it all go away…”

“I assume you’re not helpful?” Andi sounded as dry as the desert.

“What makes you think that? You wound me, Andi. As an older brother, it is my solemn duty to help my little brother when he’s in need.” George was sure he could see the sarcasm dripping through the phone’s speaker.

“Then you definitely have to work on your older brother skills. It was nice talking to you, Daniel. Bye.” There was a mock-enraged gasp when Andi ended the call.

George couldn’t deny the rush of satisfaction at seeing his lover/partner protecting him in such a brusque manner.

It was nice to know he was appreciated. Daniel wouldn’t be angry.

He was happy when Andi treated him like another brother.

The silence after the call hung in the air for a few minutes, and Andi was probably deciding whether he should dig deeper or let it go.

As surprisingly smooth as their relationship was running, there were still times when they struggled to adjust. Case in point, they still needed to figure out the whole talking/not talking situation.

The dough was ready, and George took the scoop to start with the cookies. The oven was done pre-heating, meaning it was merely fifteen minutes until they could enjoy some baked solace.

Andi hopped onto one of the stools in the kitchen, watching him.

With most other people, George would have known it to be a passive-aggressive tactic under these circumstances.

With Andi, he was simply watching George preparing cookies.

There was no hidden meaning to his glances, no tactic to get George to fold.

As a detective, Andi knew, of course, how to do all that but not with his lover/partner.

He wasn’t that kind of person. No, Andi was giving him time to decide what he wanted to do without any pressure.

If George decided to keep this thing with his mother to himself for the time being, Andi wouldn’t pry, and he certainly wouldn’t be offended.

Perhaps it was because he was so used to keeping his own secrets that he didn’t mind other people having theirs as well.

Or he was just that kind of person, rare as they were.

Anyway, there was no pressure, and George found himself speaking easily.

“You know how my mom isn’t too happy about us living together?”

Andi just snorted. He was there when George told her about moving in with him. She’d ranted so loudly, there was no need to put her on speaker.

“Well, I haven’t told her yet that we’re also together.”

“Sensible.” Most other spouses would have been enraged about being kept a secret.

And even though Andi’s view on the matter was purely pragmatic, if Miranda Donovan didn’t know about their relationship, she couldn’t make a fuss, so dealing with her wasn’t draining energy Andi didn’t have to begin with, problem solved beautifully for everybody involved.

George was still amazed how Andi’s geschenk—or curse, according to him—put things in perspective.

Not always a welcome perspective or one worth embracing, but usually reasonable.

“I’ll have to now. She called while you were outside meditating to tell me she’s coming here with the family to celebrate my birthday since I ‘obviously cannot be bothered to make the trip to Boston,’ per my mother.

” He sighed. His mom had no problem being dramatic when it suited her.

Like Daniel and Griffin ever came home for their birthdays.

No, this was about meeting and judging Andi, and there was no way around it unless they decided to move to the Arctic Circle, and even then, she’d probably take a snowmobile to follow them.

“Not telling her is out of the question?”

“I’m afraid so. We might be able to pull it off—emphasis on might—but she’s not easily fooled. Daniel, on the other hand? He’s the weak link.”

“I can totally see that.” Andi’s gaze became absent-minded, a sure sign that he was receiving. “You’re not as agitated as I assumed you’d be after keeping it from her.”

George shrugged, almost dropping one of the cookie dough clumps. “I knew it was coming, I guess. The peace was nice while it lasted though.”

“When are you going to call her?”

“After the cookies. Probably. Perhaps. For this, I need sugar.” George placed the last batch of cookies on the tray before sliding them into the oven.

“And afterward, you can go for a long run to soothe your conscience and let off steam.”

George went over to kiss Andi’s forehead. “You know me too well. Want to come with me?”

The look he got was pure gold.

“And subject myself to a lecture about how important personal fitness is? Please. Me and the cookies…we’re going to wait for you here.”

George laughed because his grumpy boyfriend was a lot fitter than he gave himself credit for.

His occasional nagging was an attempt to establish a more regular routine for Andi.

So far, he has yet to succeed. Andi had a healthy distrust of things he called regulated fun, and when George had assured him that he could make the workouts anything but fun, Andi had uttered some colorful words in Bavarian and left.

So yes, work in progress. Slow and long progress.

Half an hour later, George left Andi with the remaining cookies and their tiny housemates to burn the calories he had just taken in and to ponder how best to broach the subject of his relationship with Andi to his mother.

He came back exhausted, sweaty, and not really wiser, but Andi had found a college basketball game on TV, successfully distracting him for the rest of the evening.

Postponing the call was inevitable when there were sports to watch, or so he told himself.