Deception (Southern Comfort) (10 page)

“Sorry,” Josh lied.  It was fun to mess with Chris.  But the guy had come through for him yesterday, so he schooled his face to show appropriate remorse.  He lowered himself into his seat and motioned for Chris to borrow the chair from Kathleen’s desk.  He did, dwarfing the department-issue black swivel. “Did you happen to get a chance to make the side trip I asked you about?”

Chris rolled his pale eyes – lasik surgery had eliminated the glasses – shuddering dramatically.  “I stopped by that… establishment, like you asked – not the top of my list for fun places to hang on my lunch hour.  Although why you couldn’t have done it yourself is beyond me.”

“I was at a crime scene,” Josh reminded him. 

Chris huffed and Josh stifled a laugh.  On the surface, Chris would fit in at a place like The Roadhouse a lot better than he would, but God knew appearances were deceiving. “So…” he prodded his old friend.

“So your girlfriend was there.  All safe and sound.  No worries.”  One of his eyebrows lifted.  “You know, I didn’t question you yesterday when you got all hell-bent on digging into her business, but what’s with all this stalker crap?  Is there some reason you couldn’t just ask her about her brother?  Or the terms of her lease?  Or call her at work and discuss her plans for the night?”

“So you found out her plans for the night?”

When Chris’s lips pursed with displeasure, Josh picked up one of his sketch pencils and started doodling on his blotter.  “It’s a long story,” he admitted.  “Let’s just say that I seem to have scared her off… somehow… a long time ago, and I’ll be damned if I’ll do it again.  So I’m… maneuvering her very carefully.”

“By stalking her?”

Josh frowned and dropped the pencil.  Then scowled when he realized he’d started to sketch Sam.  Good God, he was totally pathetic.  “I’m not stalking her.”  He wasn’t.  “She just seems to be in a situation that makes me uncomfortable, and I want to help her out without coming on too strong.”  He ignored Chris’s second raised eyebrow, which had flown up to keep company with the first.  “Sam is…” God, how to put this?  “She’s wary. And she has every right to be so.  She’s had some serious shit thrown at her in her li
fe, and it messed with her self-esteem.”  He thought about her going back to school, and felt that familiar swell of pride.  That was one hurdle she’d managed to climb over.  “And she’s outwardly pretty damn tough.  But underneath all that is this sweet, cautious woman, who’s vulnerable in ways you can’t imagine.  Because despite all the ugly stuff she’s been through, she still tries to give people the benefit of the doubt. And she’s –”

“Stacked?” Chris offered when Josh couldn’t seem to find the right word.

“Beautiful,” Josh corrected with a whole lot of indignation.  Despite the fact that he knew Chris had been kidding.  “She’s beautiful, inside and out.  Although, as you so politely noted, most men don’t get past the thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six to even begin to see what else she has to offer.  And all that makes her a target.  And despite the fact that she can take care of herself,” he almost smiled, thinking about her walking through that parking lot last night.  “I just don’t think that she should have to do it alone.  So I’m maneuvering her,” not stalking, “into a place where she’s able to… share the burden.”  He cleared his throat and retrieved the pencil, twirling it between his fingers.  “It’s what I’d do for any of my friends.” 

He looked at Chris, who just stared back.     

“So should I get fitted for my tux now?  Because sometimes it takes a while to find shoes in my size.”

Josh gave up, laughing.  “Am I that pathetically transparent?”

“Like wax paper.  No, more like Saran Wrap.
It’s what I’d do for any of my friends
.”  He did a piss-poor imitation of Josh’s voice.  “And you actually expected me to buy that?  We spent hours yesterday, digging all the dirt we could find, and I don’t recall that ever happening before.  Taking a punch for a friend, sure.  I can testify to that myself.  But you’ve never asked me to hack anything before.”

“You said you were keeping it all above board.” Worry snapped Josh’s brows together.  “Nobody said anything about hacking.”

Chris leaned back in Kathleen’s chair, causing the springs to scream in protest.  “Gotcha.”

Josh licked his finger to score the imaginary point.  “So are you gonna tell me what you found out, or do I have to scare it out of you?”

“You’re just pissy because I finally made you sweat.”

“Yeah, well I’ve been making you sweat for years.  One moment of panic is nothing compared to the truckload of wet pants you’ve amassed.”

“You do realize that I outweigh you by about sixty pounds.”

“Probably seventy right now
, but that’s never helped you before.”

“And you think that this woman’s going to want you?  You’re a lightweight, Josh.  With a pretty face.”

“You’re just jealous because I don’t swing that way.”  And when Chris paled a little, Josh realized he’d crossed the line.  Chris had had a thing for him ages ago, back when he’d first started to realize he was gay, but Josh assumed he was long over it.  Of course even if he was, he probably didn’t want to be reminded.  It had been a rather awkward bump on the road of their friendship.  “I’m sorry, Chris.  That was uncalled for.”

Chris waved the apology away.  “Water under the bridge.”  His eyes flickered up to meet Josh’s.  “So you want to hear what your girl’s up to or what?”

Josh took the out, but still felt guilty.  He knew firsthand what it was like to want more than was offered from a friend. “Lay it on me,” he said finally.  “Is she heading to the hospital?”  He wanted to make sure he kept an eye on her overnight.  Call him paranoid, but he just didn’t like the situation.  He’d made some inquiries about the upstairs neighbor and the guy was definitely bad news.  Not to mention the fact that there was still the niggling little problem surrounding her brother. 

“I overheard her conversation with her boss – who, by the way, is almost as pretty as you.  And he was playing the friend card pretty heavily.  You may want to keep an eye on him.”

Well shit.  This was definitely not good news.  “You happen to catch a name?”

“Dave… Dane.  Something like that.  I was at the other end of the bar, trying not to make it obvious I was listening.  I had to tune out the dudes arguing football while they slipped the bartender their bets.”

This time Josh’s brow raised in surprise.  “And you just sat there?”

“Sort of like you sat there in front of girlfriend’s apartment all night, witnessing absolutely no crimes, I’m sure.  Besides, you wanted me to blow my cover?”

“No,” Josh shook his head.  “Please go on.”

“Well, after the hunky boss,” Josh frowned at the eyebrow wiggle “suggested she take a walk on the beach or treat herself to a nice dinner tonight – and yes, I think the
with him
was rather subtly implied, although I’m not sure your girl picked up on that – rather than ensconce herself by her brother’s bedside, she informed Mr. J. Crew that she had something else to do tonight.  Something about some volunteer work.”

Josh stroked his chin while he chewed on that information.  He wondered where Sam was volunteering. 

Then something Chris said struck him as odd.  “You’re calling her boss J. Crew?”

“Most definitely.  The dude looks like he came out wearing a birthday suit by
Christian Dior, if you know what I’m saying.  High class, top of the line – the distinct aroma of old money.  Makes your water stained tie look pretty bad.”

Josh scowled, and looked at his tie.  He’d paid over a hundred dollars for this thing, dammit.  He looked up to catch Chris grinning.  “Are you just trying to yank my chain again? Does the guy really look like a reject from Monster Garage?”

“Nope,” Chris said with a twinkle.  “Definitely Harvard, and let me tell you he’s no reject.  If your girl turns him down, maybe she’ll give me his number.”

“Ha ha.”

“Yeah, well, a boy can dream.”  With that, Chris slapped his thighs and stood up, nearly snapping the arm off the chair in the process.  “It’s been fun, Josh, but I have to get back to work.”

“Yeah, me too.  Hey, thanks Chris, really.  I owe you one.”

“Nah.  We’re square.”  He maneuvered his large bulk past Josh’s desk. 

Josh barely noticed the other man’s passage, as he was caught up in the puzzle he’d left him.  A well-dressed, moneyed calendar boy working in a dive like The Roadhouse?

He knew better than to make assumptions based on appearances, but something was definitely off.  He’d check into this Dave or Dane or whatever the hell his name was, and see just what he dug up. 

CHAPTER SEVEN

JOEY
Santone sank his knife into the cushion of the ugly-ass sofa, grunting with satisfaction as the fabric gave way.  Reaching in to grope around, he came up with nothing but a handful of stuffing, but at least the destruction made up for the fact that he kept batting zero.  After almost two – or was it three?  Shit, probably closer to that – solid months of having to hang back twiddlin’ his thumbs, the damn boss had finally allowed him to do something.

Not that ransacking this shithole was all that exciting, but it was for damn sure better than emptying out a bunch of friggin’ bedpans over at the hospital.  He’d smelled like a nasty-ass mixture of antiseptic and death for months. 

The death, he was used to.

The antiseptic made him want to gag.

Friggin’ boss.  If he was gonna forge an identity for him to get him close to good ole Donnie, why hadn’t he made it something worthwhile?  He thought it might be fun to be one of them surgeons.  One little slip of the knife and whoops, Missus White bleeds to death.  Or Mister Jones starts singing soprano.

He snickered, totally cracking himself up.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t killed before. But doin’ it in the operating room, with a bunch of self-righteous nurses looking on in horror – well, that would be something new.  Then maybe he’d grab one of those nurses – like that bitch, Karen Davis, who was always looking at him sideways – and show her a thing or two about what he was really qualified to do.

Damn.  Just the thought of it made him hard.

And since the boss had finally found some balls and sent him to do something other than twiddle his damn thumbs, he had hopes that maybe he’d be seeing that kind of action again soon.  He’d love to get his hands on that stupid nurse, and definitely Donnie’s precious baby sister, before he disappeared back into the woodwork. Lord knew there were plenty of chances for a little accident to befall one or both of them.

Leavin’ that hospital in the middle of the night could be dangerous for a lone woman.

You never knew who might be out there, waiting in the back seat of your car.

Joey blinked, realizing that he’d just been standing there for the past five minutes, letting his fantasies distract him from what he was supposed to be doing.  Not that he had any cause to worry about baby sister comin’ home, or any of the neighbors caring about what was happening and calling the cops, but still, a guy couldn’t be too careful.

He shuddered out a breath, feeling the uncomfortable pressure of his erection straining against his zipper.  It had been too damn long since he’d had the particular brand of satisfaction he craved, and it was making him lose focus.

He looked around at the remains of the wrecked apartment, sure that what the boss was looking for wasn’t here.  If it had been, he would have found it.  There weren’t exactly a lot of places to hide things in this cracker box.

Which meant he’d have to keep an even closer eye on baby sister. 

He moaned softly, thinking about how much more enjoyable it would be if he could just force the information out of her his way.  Just like he’d done with that other little bitch who’d given the boss problems.

Damn, but she’d been a live one.

Well, for a little while anyway.

Joey slapped his leg, thinking that maybe he’d missed his calling.  He should have been a standup comic.

Sighing, he got a grip on his wayward thoughts and shoved aside the little fantasy about baby Sammy.  His damn employer had been clear – don’t touch the sister.

Not yet, at least.

Not until they found what they were looking for, or good ole Donnie woke up and started talkin’. 

And then they were both dead meat.

Joey smiled coldly, closed his switchblade with a flip of his wrist, and picked up the flat-screen with a coordinated heave of thigh and shoulder.  With one last look around, he satisfied himself that it looked like your basic robbery.  Well, he admitted, eyeballing Sammy’s pretty panties with a shit-eatin’ grin, maybe he’d gone a little overboard. But a guy had to have some fun. 

Joey’s rock-hard member pressed against his fly as he walked toward the door, reminding him that he still needed to release a little tension.  He had to be on top of his game, now that the ball seemed to be rolling.

Maybe he’d find himself a working girl tonight after shift.  Nobody really noticed or even gave a damn when somebody roughed one up, but it lost a little of its appeal knowing he was paying some bitch to let him do it.