Just the Facts, Volume 1 Read online

  * * * *

  After Reid paid the bill, they left the restaurant. Michael paused in the doorway, obviously checking to see if the man was around.

  “Where did you park?” Reid asked. Michael pointed to the lot half a block down, and Reid told him that his car was there, too. When they got to the lot, Reid said, “I’ll follow you back to your place.”

  “Honestly, I’m quite able to take care of myself if he does show up. Which is problematic at best.”

  “I’m still following you,” Reid replied adamantly—and he did. When Michael pulled into the underground parking garage, Reid found a space in the outside visitor’s area for his car, wondering if Michael would go straight up to his condo or come looking for him.

  He was relieved when Michael joined him a moment later, saying, “See. I got home with no problems. It’s safe for you to leave, now.”

  “Not until I make sure the guy’s not lurking inside somewhere.”

  “Reid,” Michael said, sounding exasperated.

  “I mean it.”

  “All right.” Michael heaved a sigh as he let them in through the back door, and then led the way to the elevator.

  Reid could see from where they stood that the front lobby was vacant. When they arrived at Michael’s floor, he checked both ways before they headed to Michael’s unit, at the far end of the ‘U’ shaped hallway.

  “Now are you satisfied?” Michael asked with a small grin as he unlocked his door and turned off the alarm.

  “Almost.”

  “Don’t tell me. You want to make certain he’s not lurking inside. The alarm was on so I don’t think it’s possible.”

  Reid nodded. “I do, because if he knows how to disable the alarm…”

  “What will you do if he did and he’s here? You’re not some cop with a gun.”

  “I’ll figure that out if it happens.”

  Reid made a production of checking each room, and the balcony, before saying, “All clear.”

  “No kidding.” Michael started to the kitchen, asking, “Would you like some coffee before you go?”

  If it gives me a chance to spend more time with you…Reid didn’t say that aloud. “Sure.” He followed, leaning against the counter while Michael filled the coffeemaker and turned it on.

  “Did you really think he might have broken in here?” Michael asked.

  “No. But I wasn’t about to take a chance that he had.” Reid smiled. “I’m just getting to know you. I rather nothing happened to you quite yet.”

  Michael laughed. “Quite yet?”

  “Or at all.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Michael studied him for a moment. “I think you’re a nice man, Mr. Hanson, once you step out of reporter mode. I like having the chance to know you better, too.”

  “You do know that means we have to do more things together. Another dinner. A movie or two. Stuff like that.”

  “I think that’s a great idea. Only next time, it’s my treat.”

  “Which would be when?”

  “I’m off tomorrow. We could do a movie, if you’re free.”

  The coffeemaker dinged, and while Michael got down cups and filled them, Reid checked an app on his phone to see what movies were playing. “How do you feel about superheroes? Crazy, bad ones?”

  Michael waggled a hand. “As long as they’re not on spaceships.”

  “Nope. So we can see that, or…” Reid kept checking. “Or we can go back to the Roman days.”

  “So I can critique the costumes? I’ll pass.”

  “You’d do that, wouldn’t you?”

  Michael nodded. “I’ve been known to—either because they were so off I wanted to kill the designer, or for ideas to run past Carolyn, for her to recreate them if I think the movie will spark an interest in renting costumes from that time period.”

  “Then superheroes it is. I promise, not a spacecraft in the whole danged thing.”

  Michael laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Coffee in hand, Reid suggested they go out on the balcony, since a nice breeze had sprung up, cooling the evening air. He crossed to the railing, resting his arms on it to watch the passing cars below.

  Michael joined him, murmuring, “A nice ending to an interesting evening.”

  Reid chuckled. “The last bit at the restaurant definitely was not part of my plans.”

  “I hope that’s the last time I see him.”

  Reid turned to look at Michael. “I think you convinced him you have no idea who he is. So it should be.” As if mocking his own words, Reid said, “Or not,” nodding toward the sidewalk below them as he stepped back into the shadows on the balcony.

  “Damn it,” Michael spat out, moving back as well. “Of course he probably saw us before you saw him. Why is he back here? He already knows where I live.”

  “I hate to say this,” Reid replied, taking out his phone, “but maybe, in the split second after you saw him at the restaurant and his asking if you remembered him, your expression might have given you away.”

  Michael grimaced. “Could be. Since he was the last person I expected to see there—or anywhere else, as far as that goes.”

  Reid called Detective Daniels as they talked. The man finally answered, after the call was rerouted to his personal phone, and Reid told him everything that had happened, including their sighting of the man just moments ago, outside the building. When he finished, he listened for a moment then said, “We’ll be there first thing in the morning. Okay, at eight. In my book that is the first thing.” After hanging up, he told Michael, “I called it. He wants us both to meet with a sketch artist. And we get to look at mug shots.”

  “What a wonderful way to spend my day off.”

  “It will help if the guy turns up in one of them. But I sort of doubt it.”

  “If he does, it would mean he was a pimp, or whatever. If so, why drug Ms. Lee.”

  “Remind me to ask Daniels if there were drugs in her system. Or alcohol.”

  “He won’t tell you, any more than he was willing to tell me when I suggested it was why she acted the way she did. If he wanted that info in the paper, or on TV, he’d already have released it.”

  Reid grinned. “I’ll worm it out of him with my beguiling smile and trustworthy attitude.”

  “Uh-huh. You’d have better luck telling him you’ll keep it off the record.”

  “That too,” Reid admitted ruefully. “And even then, he probably won’t tell me. But I’m still going to try.”

  “Are all crime reporters subconsciously detectives?”

  “Yeah,” Reid replied. “In one way or another. Not even subconsciously.

  And more than just crime reporters. A lot of what we write requires digging deep to get a story—unless we write for the home and garden, or entertainment sections.”

  “Or do editorials?”

  “A good editorial writer has to fact check everything if he doesn’t want to be shot out of the water by a reader who disagrees with him and does their best to prove him wrong.”

  “That makes sense.” Michael moved cautiously back to the railing, peering over. “He’s not down there watching the place anymore.”

  “If he saw both of us, he might have left by now—whatever his reason was for being here in the first place.”

  “I hope so. I’m still going to double lock my door, set the alarm, and…and put a chair under the handle, after you leave.”

  “I’m not going,” Reid told him after a moment’s thought. “Before you get suspicious about my motives—if he is hanging around somewhere, and doesn’t see me leave, he won’t try anything.”

  “I…suppose.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to test your virtue. I know there’s only one bedroom. I can sleep on the sofa.” He glanced at it through the balcony door. “It looks reasonably comfortable.” Unfortunately. It would have been great if it was only five foot long and lumpy. Not that he’d offer to share his bed. It’s way too soon for that, if he’s ev
en leaning it that direction.

  “I have virtue?” Michael asked with seeming amusement. “There are some people who would argue I haven’t had any since before I graduated. And that was a long time ago.”

  “Using the definition that it means honor…Yeah, I’d say you do,” Reid replied. “You could have slept with half the men in town and still be honorable.”

  “That’s not how you meant it, though. Don’t worry. Both our virtues will still be intact by morning. I haven’t slept with anyone in God knows how long. I’m too busy keeping the shop running and when I do have free time, I’d rather spend it alone, after dealing with people all day.”

  “Truth?” Reid asked in surprise.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “So I’m pushing boundaries by being here? Even by asking you out tonight?”

  Michael shook his head. “Not really. Okay, asking might have been, but I accepted, so it’s on my shoulders.”

  “But tomorrow, you’d rather not hit up a movie with me.” Reid was afraid of the answer Michael would give him. But he wasn’t going to push Michael’s limits too fast and blow any chance he might have with him. Presuming there is a chance, and after what he just said, that might be debatable.

  “Not at all. I mean, yes, I want to go to the movie. It’ll be fun. Won’t it?”

  Reid smiled. “I think it will be.”

  “Then quit trying to back out,” Michael replied, heading back inside.

  “I’m not.” Reid followed him, pulling the screen door closed and locking it before going into the kitchen to dump out the coffee he hadn’t drunk and set the cup in the sink.

  Michael’s cup was half full as well. He poured the coffee down the drain and quickly washed both cups. “Now, we’d better get some sleep,” he said when he finished. “I bet Daniels expects us down there at the crack of dawn.”

  “Well, may not quite that early, but, yeah. Sleep is good.”

  “Feel free to use the shower. I’ll get you some sheets—and a blanket if you want one. There’s clean towels and washcloths in the cupboard above the toilet.”

  “Thanks. I’ll pass on the blanket,” Reid replied as he walked to the bathroom. “I promise to leave some hot water for you.”

  Michael chuckled. “Don’t worry. If there’s one thing this building is good at, it’s making sure the water is always hot. Besides, I’m a morning shower person. It wakes me up.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I’ll move in here. With my place, it’s touch and go. You touch the tap, the hot water goes.” He winked when Michael looked at him in disbelief. “Kidding, honest. Okay. If you’re in bed by the time I’ve finished, sleep well.”

  “Gonna try,” Michael told him. “You, too.”

  “Planning on it,” Reid said before closing the bathroom door.

  Chapter 4

  Over breakfast Monday morning, Michael and Reid avoided any mention of the man who had accosted them at the restaurant the previous evening—and then showed up in front of the apartment building. Michael did go onto the balcony, peering over the railing to make certain the man hadn’t come back.

  As soon as they finished eating, Reid said he wanted to go home to change clothes, suggesting they meet at the police station.

  “You figure I’m safe out on my own?” Michael asked with a brief smile.

  “During the day, in public? Yeah, I do. I doubt he’s going to take potshots at you. If that was his MO, he’d have used a gun to kill Ms. Lee instead of strangling her.”

  “Probably,” Michael agreed. “Although a gunshot would have, well, might have been noticed by anyone who was home at the time, like me. At least, I guess I was. I don’t really know since Daniels hasn’t said anything to me about exactly what time it happened other than that it was last Sunday.”

  “Probably because the ME hasn’t narrowed it down to a specific timeframe since the body wasn’t found until two days later.”

  Michael nodded then suggested Reid get moving so he’d get to the police station in a timely fashion. As soon as he was gone, Michael did the dishes and put the sheets Reid had used into the laundry hamper. Then, after making certain he had everything he needed, he went down to his car. Despite what he and Reid had said, as he got off the elevator Michael paused, checking to make certain the man wasn’t around.

  Like I’d know if he was. There’s plenty of cars he could hide behind.

  That thought didn’t exactly make his morning, but he decided he was being paranoid. Still, he walked quickly to his car, his shoulders hunched defensively, slid in, and turned the key in the ignition. Moments later he drove out of the garage with a sense of relief. By the time he got to the police station he was relaxed enough that he walked from the parking lot to the entrance without once looking over his shoulder. Reid hadn’t arrived yet, so Michael asked the man at the desk to let Detective Daniels know he was there. The detective had just come into the lobby when Reid dashed in, apologizing for being late.

  “You’re certain the man you saw outside your apartment building, and earlier at the restaurant, was the same one who was with Ms. Lee last Saturday evening,” Daniels asked Michael as he escorted them up to the squad room.

  “Very certain,” Michael replied. “I might not have been if he hadn’t pulled what he did at the restaurant.”

  “All right. Give me the details of what happened and then I’ll put the two of you with our sketch artist.”

  They did, after which the detective took them to a room down the hall where the artist waited. The woman worked slowly and methodically, asking questions each step of the way about specifics, until she came up with a drawing that both Michael and Reid agreed looked like the man in question. Then she took them back to the squad room, giving Daniels the sketch.

  “Now comes the fun part,” Daniels said. “The mug books.”

  “Fun my ass,” Reid grumbled an hour later. He and Michael had gone through the ones Daniels had told them were most likely to have a photo of their man, if he was Ms. Lee’s pimp or one of his people. They came up blank.

  “So now what?” Michael asked Daniels when they were finished.

  “You go home and get on with your life,” the detective replied.

  “What if the guy decides to do more than watch Michael’s place?” Reid wanted to know.

  “If you see him anywhere, Michael,” Daniels said, “you call 911. If you’re at home, lock the door. The same goes for work unless he comes inside. If that happens, leave by the rear door and find a safe and very public place to lay low until the officers show up.”

  “Me, Carolyn, and all my customers, just in case.” Michael shook his head. “That should be interesting.”

  “As long as you’re not there, they should be safe enough. Whoever he is, he’s not going to attack them unless he’s crazy.”

  “I think killing Ms. Lee sort of defines ‘crazy’,” Michael replied dryly.

  Daniels chuckled. “You have a point, but you know what I mean. My guess is, he’s not going to do anything. If he was, he had two chances, at the restaurant and at your building. Since he chose to show himself, he was probably trying to scare you into keeping quiet if you did recognize him.”

  “Which is what I said,” Reid told Michael. “Well, more or less.”

  “It didn’t work,” Michael replied to what Daniels had said. “Yeah, I’m not happy but I’m not going to put my life on hold because of him.”

  “Understood. As I said, if you do see him again, let us know.”

  “I will. Is there anything else you need from me?”

  “Not at the moment. Thank you for coming in,” Daniels said.

  Michael nodded then he and Reid left.

  “Are we still on for tonight?” Reid asked as they walked to the lot where they’d both parked.

  “You bet. What time?”

  “How about I pick you up around five? That way we can eat first.”

  “Sure, but I’m paying. It’s my turn.”

  Reid laughed. “Worki
ng on that theory, we’ll trade off every time we go out?”

  “Maybe?” Michael liked the idea that Reid was planning ahead.

  “Good. I’ll see you at five. And Michael, be careful. I don’t think the guy will show up again. Especially if he was around this morning and followed you to the police station, but, yeah, be careful.”

  “I plan on it.”

  “What are you going to do while I’m slaving away on my next story?” Reid asked.

  “Grocery shop. It’s my normal Monday chore.”

  Reid frowned. “Maybe I should…”

  Michael held up a hand. “Forget it. You can’t keep playing bodyguard. You said it yourself. The chances he’s still watching me are nil. I’ll be fine. Go. Slave. I’ll see you this evening.”

  Although he looked as if he didn’t want to leave, Reid nodded and got into his car. Michael watched as he drove away and then went down to his car in the next aisle. Before getting in, he checked the lot and shook his head. The guy would be crazy to be anywhere around here, this close to the police station. Stop being so paranoid. The cops know what he looks like, now. With any sort of luck, they’ll pick him up and, well, arrest him, I guess.

  That idea made him feel better. Leaving the lot, he went home long enough to get his shopping list, then headed to the grocery store. He was home again by noon, laden down with enough food and other necessities he’d run out of to last him for the week. More than enough food, actually, because he planned on cooking dinner for him and Reid next Sunday, if their date this evening went well enough to make that an option. If it doesn’t…Not an idea he liked but he knew it was a possibility. It’s barely been a week since we met. We might find out we’re not as compatible as we think we are.

  He faced that reality as he put everything away. Then, getting his book, he settled on the balcony to read after checking to make certain the man wasn’t down on the street watching his place again—which he wasn’t.

  * * * *

  Michael was dressed, in jeans and a nice shirt, and pacing the living room when his buzzer let him know Reid had arrived. “I’ll be right down,” he said when he answered, a bit surprised when Reid didn’t reply. “Did you hear me?” he asked, a logical question since the phone for the call boxes in the building sometimes was less than reliable. There was no answer, so he figured it was acting up again. Checking to be certain he had everything; he locked up, set the alarm, and went downstairs. He frowned when he didn’t see Reid in the entryway. His frown deepened when Reid’s car pulled up in front of the building seconds later and Reid got out.