The Agency Page 8

  “Or we can go down the street and try the barbecue at the Korean place,” John replied. “If we stay here you’re going to want to go online to search for more killings like Constantine’s. I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

  “You’re getting to know me a bit too well,” Kip said with a brief smile. “You’re right, though, so barbecue it is.”

  I am, and the more I know, the better I like you. You’re something special, Kip. Not that John would say that aloud. He had his pride and being turned down by a man he was beginning to care about…Well, if he did I’d be no worse off than I am now, but for damned sure it would hurt.

  Not too surprisingly, because it was Saturday night, the restaurant was busy. They were finally seated at one of the long tables generally reserved for large groups as the host told them. “Large groups, or people willing to sit beside strangers when we’re crowded.”

  It did mean they had to keep any conversation general, which was okay with John. After the time they’d spent with Mitch, and then talking about and refining their plan as they drove back to Denver, John was ready to let it drop. If we keep rehashing it, Kip’s going to be so tense he’ll do something stupid when the time comes.

  “Spicy Galbee or Galbee Tang?” Kip mused aloud.

  John had to check the menu to see that he meant beef short ribs or short rib stew. “I’m going for barbecue chicken and seafood pancakes for my appetizer.”

  “Maybe I’ll have the Goon Mandu as an appetizer.”

  “You’re going to make me check to see what those are, aren’t you?”

  Kip nodded, then his lips quirked up. “They’re chicken dumplings.”

  “See, was that so hard?”

  Kip patted John’s thigh, shocking the hell out of him. “Teasing you is fun. It takes my mind off…well, everything.”

  And sends my mind where I don’t want it to go. Damn it, Kip.

  Thankfully, as far as John was concerned, the waiter arrived in time to save him from saying something he shouldn’t. They placed their orders, including beer to counteract what they knew would be very spicy food—since they both ordered their meals extra hot.

  “How come I never tried this place, as long as I’ve been in the neighborhood?” Kip asked.

  “No clue. How many of the restaurants around here have you gone to?”

  “Well…” Kip held up his hand. “There’s the subway place.” He bent a finger. “And, um, the pizza place.” Another finger went down. From his eye movements, John knew he was visualizing the two blocks in question. “That’s it.”

  “Then we have our next project for the weekends. Checking out the rest of them.”

  “Sounds like fun.” Kip took a drink when the waiter brought their beers. They were followed moments later by their appetizers, which they shared. Then their meals arrived, along with eight small bowls, each one holding one of the various sides which came with dinner.

  “Hot, hot, hot,” Kip said after tasting what the waiter had said was cucumber kimchee.

  “Maybe because of the fermented jalapenos?” John suggested, trying not to laugh. “You’re going to be in real trouble by the time you get through your ribs.”

  “That, my man, is why they make beer.”

  John was tempted to say “Your man?” but didn’t. It’s a phrase, nothing more. Like ‘my friend’ or whatever. He didn’t mean anything by it.

  They ate, with many comments on how good, and how hot, the food was—promising to come back again sometime to try other items on the menu. By the time they left the restaurant Kip was obviously relaxed—undoubtedly due to the three beers he’d consumed. That is until they got the lot behind the agency. Then he tensed up again.

  “They don’t know who you are,” John said, correctly reading the reason why.

  “I know,” Kip replied, glancing around warily as he unlocked the back door. “In my head it know, but…Look, would you like to come in for a few minutes?

  “Sure.” John followed him as they went down to the apartment. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

  “Okay.” Kip flopped down on the sofa. “Now that we’ve started this, I want it over with, like yesterday.”

  “It will be soon enough,” John called out from the kitchen.

  “What if they don’t take the bait?”

  “My bet is at least one of them will,” John replied a couple of minutes later when he returned with their coffees. “Maybe the guy who was with Parker when you saw them kill Constantine. One is all we need, if he can be convinced to turn state’s evidence against his boss.”

  “Big if,” Kip muttered.

  John sat beside him, taking one of his hands to make certain he was paying attention. “Believe and it’ll happen.”

  “It better. I’ve been living with this for over eleven years because I was a stupid kid.”

  “You were a scared kid. No one can blame you for that.”

  “Except me.” Kip stared down at their hands. “If it wasn’t for you…”

  “You’d have been fine without me, Kip. You have what it takes to face whatever life throws at you now.” When Kip didn’t respond, John put a finger under his chin to make him look up. “You do.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Kip sighed. “I’m an adult. I shouldn’t be crying on your shoulder.”

  “Why not? It’s a pretty strong one, although I wouldn’t say you’re crying. You’re trying to convince yourself our plan’s going to work.” John slipped his arm around Kip. “If you need my shoulder, it’s yours.”

  “Only your shoulder?” Kip asked with a small smile, leaning against him.

  “Now how do I answer that without you taking it the wrong way?”

  Kip stiffened, pulling back. “You just did. Thanks for all your support but I think you should leave now.”

  “Ease it back a notch or three, okay. You’re tense, you’ve had a bit more to drink than you probably should have, and it’s been a long stressful day.” John put his arm back around Kip despite his resistance. “You’re reading something into what I said that’s not there. In case you haven’t picked up on it, I like you. Actually, I don’t think you have. I’ve been doing my best to hide it.”

  Kip looked at him in surprise. “Why?”

  “I don’t deal well with rejection?” John replied with a wry grimace.

  “Well, first that has to happen. What if I say I’ve been doing the same thing, though not for the same reason? I’m not the kind of guy who jumps in with both feet until I’m sure I won’t end up regretting it.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” John hugged him, trying not to smile too broadly. “Aren’t we a pair, dancing around our feeling so we won’t get hurt?”

  * * * *

  “Isn’t that what guys do? Hide their feelings?” Kip replied, trying to believe what John was saying. Does he mean it or is he trying to placate me because…because why? He’s not like that. He calls things the way he sees them. Like telling me I’ve had too much to drink. I don’t feel it but he’s probably right. Otherwise I wouldn’t have revealed how I felt about him. Kip frowned. I haven’t, though. “I didn’t say it, but I like you too, as more than a friend.”

  “I sort of figured that out.” John kissed Kip’s temple. “Now we have to find out if it’s real or only the result of what’s been going on for the past few weeks. I mean for both of us.”

  Kip was about to protest that is was real, at least for him. He didn’t because he knew John was right. They’d been working closely together, especially on the killings and trying to discover who was behind them. That could have intensified our emotions beyond what they would be if we were two guys who met somewhere and found each other interesting.

  “You went quiet,” John said.

  “I was thinking.”

  “Should I ask?”

  “You’re right. It could be because of the tension we’ve, well, I’ve been under and nothing more. I don’t think it is. I guess we’ll find out when all th
is is over.”

  John nodded. “In that case, I hope whoever it is takes the bait fast. I’m not a patient man. Not when I think we do have something going on between us that needs to be explored in more detail.”

  Kip patted John’s thigh. “Patience is—”

  “If you say ‘a virtue’…”

  “I was going more for ‘highly overrated.’” He held up his hand. “Don’t take that as an invitation to start exploring right this minute.”

  “Well, damn.”

  Kip laughed. “You have a way of keeping me grounded. I like that.”

  “I aim to please.” John leaned in and Kip was certain he was going to kiss his temple, or his forehead. So he tipped his head back at the last second. The kiss landed on his lips, just as he wanted it to. For a brief second their lips meshed softly before John pulled away, muttering “Sorry. That wasn’t…”

  “What you had planned?” Kip touched John’s lips. “Do you hear me complaining? Nope, you don’t and you won’t, because I instigated it.”

  “Kip…” John rumbled, his normally husky voice even more gravelly. Emotion, Kip thought. The same emotion he was feeling.

  “Maybe we should call it a night,” Kip said, as much as he didn’t want to.

  “Probably a good idea.”

  Neither of them moved for what seemed like forever as they looked at each other. Kip’s gaze took in John’s smile, his half-closed eyes which Kip found very sexy, the tattoo covering his neck. Kip traced a fingertip over it, eliciting a low groan.

  “I’d better…” John said.

  “Yeah, probably…”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Good. Maybe…a bike ride?”

  “Sure.”

  They stood and walked upstairs. When they got to the back door, John said, “Make sure you lock up and set the alarm.”

  “Always do.” Kip hesitated before brushing his lips over John’s. “Night. Sleep well.”

  John returned the kiss as given. “You, too.”

  Kip watched as he walked to his bike, waving when John pulled out of the lot.

  Damn, I am in so much trouble. Kip smiled. And I don’t care one bit.

  Chapter 7

  Kip and John spent most of Sunday doing as John had suggested—going for a ride on his bike. He even took the time to give Kip a lesson on how to drive it, amid much laugher on both their parts. They stopped to pick up supper on the way back to the agency, eating it in Kip’s living room while they watched TV. By mutual if unspoken agreement they avoided talking about anything relating to the murders and trying to stop them. All in all it was a relaxing day for both of them, ending with some kisses before John left for home.

  Then it was Monday. John arrived at work early to find Kip was already in his office and on the phone.

  “Yes, that works, Mitch. Thanks,” Kip said before ending the call.

  He looked up and John took the opportunity to give him a brief kiss. “What works?” John asked when it ended.

  “Mitch is going to call, pretending to be a new client. I’ll talk with him and then tell Nina I’m taking an undercover job for him starting this morning.”

  “Doing what and how does it involve me?”

  “Supposedly he owns a large import business in Greeley. Someone has been stealing valuable items from his warehouse. He wants us to go in as new hires to find who it is.”

  “You’re right, that works.”

  Half an hour later Nina came into his office to tell him there was a Mr. Long on the phone. “He sounds desperate,” she said. “Like if he doesn’t talk to you right now the world will end.”

  “Don’t they all?” he replied, getting a nod and a knowing grin from her. When she left, he spent the next few minutes telling Mitch that they were going to be leaving within the hour and then going over their plans one last time.

  After hanging up, Kip went into the waiting room to give Nina the news that they had a new client—and why. “With luck, it won’t take more than a couple of days,” he said when he’d finished. “Do you think you can handle things while we’re gone?”

  “If you mean can I put off everyone who calls, you bet,” she replied, rolling her eyes. She got some papers from the file cabinet. “Make sure he signs these before you do anything else.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kip smiled at her bossy attitude as he took the papers. “I’ll call when I can. Do not—”

  “Call you. I know. I wouldn’t want to bust your cover.”

  “Another reason I keep you around. You’re smart.”

  She gave him a hug, telling him to be careful, and then he and John left, with a brief stop in the apartment so Kip could get the bag he’d packed. It contained a couple of changes of clothes, as well as a kit holding what they’d need to wire him. “Just a precaution,” he explained to John. “In case things go south and…” He shrugged.

  “Another reason I like you. You’re smart,” John said, mimicking Kip’s words to Nina.

  “Wiseass,” Kip muttered.

  * * * *

  On the drive to Elderon, John made it a point to keep up a running commentary on the scenery, the other drivers, and anything else that would take Kip’s mind off what would happen when they got there. At one point, Kip said, “I know what you’re doing.”

  “Pointing out the joys of mountain driving?” John replied innocently.

  Kip snorted. “That, too. Thanks.”

  When they got to the edge of town they pulled to the side of the road. Kip got his bag from the back seat and took out the tactical vest that John had insisted at the last minute he bring with him. Taking his shirt off, he put the vest on. Then he got the small kit holding the bug and receiver from his bag. “Turn your back, please,” he said. When John did, with a bit of amusement, Kip pulled down his jeans and briefs. He turned the tiny rectangular bug on, using the tape that came with it to adhere it in his groin, to one side of his balls. Then he redressed, handing the kit to John who pocketed it.

  At that point, Kip took a deep breath as he started the car. “This is going to work, isn’t it? I mean everything, not just the vest and the bug.”

  “Yeah, it is,” John replied, squeezing his thigh. Kip put his hand over John’s while they drove down the main street, only removing it when he had to park in the lot behind the sheriff’s building.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Faulkner,” Mitch said when Kip entered his office a few moments later. “I was expecting you earlier, given the nature of your call.”

  Kip knew why he’d said that. There was another man in the office who immediately stood, saying, “I’ll talk to you later, sheriff,” before leaving.

  “Sorry about that,” Mitch said, closing the door. “The one time when I’d like a peaceful day and it seems like everyone and their brother is having problems they want me to solve.” When someone knocked on the door, he muttered, “See what I mean.” He opened it, obviously ready to tell whomever that he was busy. Instead, he let a man in who was carrying a video camera.

  “Mr. Faulkner, this is Walter Thompson,” Mitch said. “I asked him to join us after talking with you.”

  Kip nodded sharply. “You want what I have to tell you on the record. I’m not certain I like that idea.”

  “Feel free to leave,” Mitch replied.

  Kip heaved a sigh. “I should, but…” He took a seat in the chair beside Mitch’s desk.

  Mitch sat as well, while Walt positioned himself so he could record their conversation. John moved to the corner of the room as planned, well out of the camera’s view. So far, so good.

  “Mr. Faulkner, when you called me you implied that the last time we met you were not exactly truthful about what you’d seen, regarding one Mr. Stephen Constantine, who was murdered eleven years ago.”

  “No, sir, I wasn’t. You have to realize I was young and scared. I’ve lived with my bad decision over the past few years. Then…” Kip looked down, worrying his lip betwee
n his teeth. “I saw a photo of one of the men, connecting him to another murder.” Kip went on to relate his story, occasionally glancing warily at the camera focused on him.

  When Kip was finished, Mitch said tightly, “If you’d been honest with me to begin with, Mr. Alexander would still be alive. Given the circumstances, and the fact you blatantly lied to me, and because you didn’t go to the police in Denver to tell them you knew who that killer was, I’m placing you under arrest for obstruction of justice. I’ll inform the detective in charge of the Alexander case that I have you in custody.”

  “You can’t! I didn’t know who he was.”

  “You saw, and can describe his accomplice. Correct?”

  Kip nodded weakly, whispering, “I can, but if I do, I’m dead.”

  Walt spoke up at that point, saying, “This is a great story, Mitch. Unless you say otherwise, I’m going to make it the headline on my news show tonight, and pass it on to a colleague of mine who is the crime reporter for one of the TV outlets in Grand Junction.”

  “No!” Kip cried out fearfully. “They’ll find me. They’ll kill me.”

  “You should have thought of that years ago when you refused to tell me the truth about Constantine’s murder,” Mitch said coldly. Turning to Walt, he said, “I have no objection to your airing the story.”

  “Thank you.” Walt hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Now we wait,” John said. “You did great, Kip. It went just as we planned.”

  “Well, so far,” Kip replied. “We won’t know for sure until someone comes after me. Right now, I get to spend my time in one of your cells, Mitch. I hope meals come as part of the deal.”

  Mitch chuckled. “Nope. I thought I’d starve you as part of your punishment. Yes, we feed you. I have a standing contract with the diner down the street to provide food for my prisoners.”

  “Then lock me up.”

  “Before you do…” John took the kit containing the receiving equipment from his jacket pocket. “As Kip said to me this morning, this is only a precaution,” he told Mitch. “It’s for the bug he’s wearing.”

  John explained to Mitch where the bug was, at which point the sheriff asked, “How do you turn it on when it’s down there? And why down there, not in your boot or something?”