CHAPTER 1
Dan Porter paid no attention to the luxurious hotel room with its king-size bed, the window, framed with opulent drapes, overlooking the park, or the fluffy robes they’d laid out on the comforter before heading down to the charity ball.
Not that he deliberately paid no attention—he simply didn’t see any of it.
His mind had launched itself down a tight, dark rabbit hole, and daylight—and escape—had become a pinprick of light way above him.
His stomach churned, and his throat seized.
Brad’s killer is downstairs, right this second.
And Dan didn’t have a fucking clue to his identity.
He’d left the ballroom where all the past alumni were sipping champagne, chatting, and dancing. Dan was in no mood to take part in such activities, not once he’d found that DVD. He couldn’t suppress the notion that the killer had hoped Dan would find it.
He’d have known Gary and I would be there. We were on the guest list. And that pointed to only one conclusion.
He’s baiting me. Us. Hell, he could have been one of the guests who was selling the raffle tickets.
Dan had stood at the prizes table, scanning the faces of everyone around them, searching for some kind of recognition, anything that would give them a break, but…
Nothing.
Then his imagination had gone into overdrive. Suddenly all those happy expressions morphed into far more sinister glances, eyes glinted with evil intent, and it was as if every voice clamored inside his mind, all saying the same thing.
Me, Dan. It was me. I killed Brad. I ripped his heart from his chest and placed it in his hands, then left him there on that picnic table to be found.
Now catch me—if you can.
Before I rip your heart out.
“Will you take a minute and breathe, for God’s sake?” Gary’s strong arms enfolded him, and Dan leaned into them, grateful for their support. Gary’s warm voice settled on him, dispelling the ice that had crept under his skin and seeped into his bones.
Dan shuddered. “How can you be so calm about this?” Surely knowing he’d been in the same room as the psychopath who changed the course of Gary’s—and his parents’—life had to have created some effect.
Then realization sank in.
“You don’t think I can find him, do you?”
Because if Dan had lost faith in his own gift, it stood to reason Gary had to feel the same way.
I couldn’t see past whatever mask the killer was wearing. And it had to be a supremely effective one. Dan hadn’t gotten so much as a whiff all night. All he’d sensed was warmth and affection, the delight of renewed friendships.
Gary’s arms tightened around him. “Cross that thought right out of your head, Dan Porter. You hear me? We knew this was a long shot before we came.”
“That’s what you said earlier. And I’ll repeat what I said—I wanted to give you something to work with.”
“And you will. In fact, you already have.”
Dan frowned. “What exactly have I given you?”
Gary’s smile appeared forced. “We came here hoping to find more information. That maybe one of Brad’s classmates might know something, however small, that would lead us to the killer.
” He trailed his fingertips over Dan’s cheek.
“And now what do we know? I’ll tell you.
One of those people downstairs in that fancy ballroom looks like everyone else, but inside they’re a psychopath.
” He kissed Dan lightly on the lips. “After all these years of having no clues to work on, do you know what you did? You handed me a list of suspects. All we have to do is whittle it down. To my mind, that sounds like you’ve accomplished something.
Now it’s my turn to run with this.” Gary pulled Dan close, molding him against his body, sending a wave of affection and love rolling over him.
“This is going to take both of us, okay?”
Dan knew Gary was trying to lift his mood, but he wasn’t there yet. “How?” He breathed in Gary’s comforting scent.
“Hmm?”
“How do you suggest we whittle it down?”
“As much as I don’t want to even contemplate this… what if Brad wasn’t the only victim? What if he was the first? Or even the second?”
Dan crumpled a little at the thought. It felt as though a heavy weight dropped in his stomach, and something sour was on his tongue. “As much as I hate to admit it, that’s a reasonable assumption.”
Gary nodded. “So we could look for unsolved murders bearing the same characteristics. Cross-check any we find with the whereabouts of everyone on that list.”
“We’re talking nearly a hundred people,” Dan remonstrated. “We can’t do this alone.”
“I agree. We’re going to need help. Leave that part to me.”
“You’re amazing.” Dan’s throat grew thick. “I thought you’d be broken up about this, but you’re much more resilient than I expected.”
Gary kissed his forehead. “I’ve had twenty-three years to work on my resilience, remember? And although I might not be showing it right now, what you did tonight has lit a new fire under me. We’re going to find this guy. I know it.” His voice rang with confidence.
Dan glanced at the bed. “Before I picked up that DVD, all I could think about was getting you naked between silken sheets and making love all night long.” Then a pleasurable shiver ran through him.
“Seems I wasn’t the only one.” He opened himself up to Gary’s emotions, and despite his stomach-churning fears, Dan’s cock sat up and took notice.
“We need to leave this evening behind us—for now,” Gary whispered, his lips soft on Dan’s neck as he kissed a path to his collarbones. He stopped at the bow tie. “And you need to get out of this tux.”
“To quote you, I’m going to need some help.”
Gary cupped Dan’s chin, tilting his face upward. “Can you forget about it? For tonight?”
Dan smiled. “I’ll try.” He meant it.
That rabbit hole was way too dark.
“Then I’ll do my utmost to make it all go away for a few hours.”
A few hours wouldn’t hurt.
Monday, September 24, 2018
Detective Gary Mitchell barely had time to sip his coffee before the phone rang.
“My office, when you have a minute.”
He smiled to himself. Lieutenant Travers didn’t believe in wasting his breath. “Coming now, sir.”
Coffee would have to wait. So would the cinnamon rolls, unfortunately.
“We’re wanted,” he told Dan, who’d already begun sifting through the folders on his desk, his cup in one hand. “We can choose a new case once we’ve spoken with Travers.”
Dan squinted at him, his eyes lit with a twinkle of mischief. “Remember what happened last time we did that? Actually the last two times. He sent us off in a totally different direction.”
It had been Travers who’d suggested the case of the body in the tunnel, and for most of September, they’d pursued another case he’d shoved in their direction. Not that it mattered, as long as they were solving cases that had once seemed impossible.
Thank God for technological advances, DNA testing—and Dan Porter’s extraordinary gift.
Gary was also grateful for the previous day. They’d done very little except sleep, eat, and snuggle. He’d wanted to lighten Dan’s mood, and if that meant staying in bed the whole day, Gary could take one for the team.
Sex was a fantastic distraction.
They headed for Travers’s corner office. Gary smirked at the usual chaos that greeted them. “You know, legend speaks of a desk under all that crap.”
Beside him, Dan stifled a snort.
Travers narrowed his gaze. “I was about to pay you two a compliment, but now I’m not so sure.” He gestured to the two worn leather chairs in front of his desk, and they sat.
“Aw, go on, sir. Throw us a bone. We don’t get too many of those,” Gary quipped.
“Before I get to the main reason for me wanting to see you—” Travers consulted a desk diary. “—you’re both good to go for October sixth.”
Dan frowned. “And what’s happening then?”
Travers arched his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to a wedding or something?
” He gazed at Gary in bewilderment. “Have I got it wrong? That was the date on the request for time off, wasn’t it?
The request you put in back in August? I know I took a while getting back to you—my apologies for that, by the way, but there were a lot of requests, and yours got buried—but I figured you’d need to know.
After all, it’s less than two weeks away. ”
It took a moment for his words to sink in.
Gary gave Dan an apologetic glance. “I totally forgot. It’s Nina and David’s wedding.
I accepted for both of us.” His chest grew constricted.
Back when he was in high school, Nina had been his best friend’s aggravating little sister, and ever since Cory’s murder, she and Gary had stayed in touch, cementing their connection.
The knot in his belly tightened.
Cory’s little sister is getting married, and Cory won’t be there to see it.
The thought deflated him, and he knew Cory would have called him out to see him indulge in such melancholy.
Called me out? He’d have kicked my ass.
Then he smiled to himself.
Yeah, I wouldn’t put it past him to turn up as a ghost, complete with a glittery Pride suit.
The quiet hit him, and he became aware of being the focus of attention.
Dan pointed at him. “I think we need to work on our communication.”
Travers laughed. “Do yourselves a favor and don’t say stuff like that too often around here.
” When Gary blinked, Travers bit back a smile.
“You can’t hear yourselves, can you? You really are starting to sound like a married couple.
Take it from someone with quite a few decades of married life under his belt.
And as for why I wanted to see you….” He grabbed a folded copy of the Boston Herald from on top of the filing cabinet and tossed it in front of them.
“We made ink. Fortunately, this time it was the right kind.”
Dan peered at it. “Obviously not enough of the right kind for the front page.”
“So what did we do to merit being written about?” Gary opened the newspaper, searching for the article. “Ah,” he said before Travers could reply. “The painting.”
“It reads well. Thankfully the journalist—what’s his name again?”
Gary looked closer. “Jonathon Wilmer.” He recognized the name. Wilmer’s pieces were usually supportive of the Boston Police Department.
“Yeah, he doesn’t mention Senator Cain. Just talks about the painting being recovered and back on show at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. There’s a bit in it about Lori Dettweiler too. She’s the expert who handled its return, isn’t she?”
Gary gazed at the photo of the painting, Christ in the Storm on the Sea of Galilee, by Rembrandt.
Goose bumps slid along the back of his neck.
“This doesn’t do it justice, you know,” he said in a low voice.
“So much more impressive when you’re standing in front of it.
” There were moments when he understood Dan’s lost-for-words appreciation of it and the power it had held over Senator Cain.
Then he recalled the events set in motion by its acquisition, and a chill crawled over his skin.
Cheryl Somers died because the good senator wanted to look at it on a daily basis. James Sebring died because he knew too much.
“It’s all going to come out sooner or later,” Dan said with a dejected sigh.
“Can’t hide a story like that for long.” Travers sat in his high-backed chair, elbows on the arms, fingers laced. “So… what’s next for Batman and Robin? Or do you prefer the Dynamic Duo?”
Gary jerked his head back. “Excuse me? Where did that come from?”
Travers chuckled. “I thought you hadn’t seen it. Our mystery cartoonist strikes again.” He shifted papers on his desk, then tugged a sheet out from under them. “I found this pinned to your office door this morning.”
Gary couldn’t resist. “This morning? And it already got buried?”
Travers glared. “Any more comments about my organizational skills would be ill-advised.” He glanced at the sheet before handing it to Dan. “That is you dressed up as Batman, right?”
Gary gaped. “Hey, wait one goddamn minute. If anyone’s gonna be Batman, it should be me.”
Dan smirked. “I don’t claim to be an eccentric billionaire, but I can live with this.
” He grinned. “Personally, I like it. A short Batman. It’s cute.
” He took one look at Gary’s face and burst into laughter.
“For God’s sake, it’s just a drawing.” He shifted on his chair, all trace of mirth gone.
“Why don’t you tell Lieutenant Travers what we’ve discovered? About Brad?”
Gary cleared his throat. “We made—well, Dan made—a bit of a breakthrough Saturday.” He told Travers about the charity ball and Dan’s revelation.
“The ball’s organizer, Sean Nichols, was Brad’s boyfriend back in college.
We called him yesterday morning and told him what we knew.
He was horrified to think one of his former classmates could be Brad’s killer, but he sent us the list of everyone present. ”
Travers cocked his head to one side. “I’m assuming there’s something you want from me.”
Gary nodded. “I’d like to give the list to Barry Davis, if that’s okay.”
“Our tech whiz kid?”
“Yeah.” Gary outlined his idea. “But he’d work on it on his own time, of course, and I’d pay him.”
Travers snorted. “Good luck with that. Barry’s good people. He won’t let you pay him.” He leaned back. “Yes, I can agree to that. I hope he turns something up.” Another smile. “So… what’s your next case to be?”
“We were trying to decide that when you called and asked to see us,” Dan remarked. “I’d like a really meaty case. Something to tax our brains.”
Travers laughed. “Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Porter.”
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