Jumping at Shadows (16 page)

Eric laughed and shut the computer down completely with a quick and relieved tapping of keys. It was only because of his own restlessness that he had logged on to begin with, and he had already verified the shipping statuses and delivery times and had ensured that there were no e-mails indicating problems with his orders. The cameras would arrive early the next morning, the installers for the alarm by ten. He could go pick up his 9mm after lunch. All was going as planned. The screen on the laptop was dark when he stood up, and he joined his lover in the kitchen just as T.J. flipped the pork chops in the pan.

“I suppose I can wait until tomorrow to continue cruising,” Eric offered with an exaggerated sigh, slipping behind T.J. and leaning in to smell the meat. “You did work hard all day long, after all. I guess that deserves some kind of attention. Mmm, that smells good.” The low hum was accompanied by a slide of his hands over T.J.’s bare stomach, and he pressed in closer as he drew another deep breath of roasted garlic. They were both shirtless and wearing only sweats, so it wasn’t surprising that the heat was low to keep any grease from splattering, and so far T.J.’s skin remained unburned.

“Easy, baby,” T.J. chided teasingly. “We’ll get to that later, after I get you fed.” He turned his head to give a sloppy kiss. “Why don’t you grab some beer?”

Eric nipped his chin as one hand dropped below the waist of the sweats. “Not my favorite thing to grab, but I think I can handle it.” But he moved away after only a quick grope, heading for the refrigerator.

“I did talk to Belinda earlier today,” Eric added as he swung the door open. “Turns out the trip Judge Kenczik is planning to Barbados is for the spring, and for a single traveler. I need to call Jeff later and see if he found out anything about who this Alexander Daniels really is, and just how he relates to Judge Kenczik.”

T.J. frowned briefly over his shoulder before returning to the stove and giving his attention to the sauce simmering in the second pan on the stovetop. “I thought you said he would call you if he found something. And you apparently didn’t get any e-mails from him. Besides, isn’t it a little late to be calling him?”

Eric stilled, starkly aware of the slip he had nearly made. It should have been worrisome how easily the explanation that followed left his mouth.

“Cops don’t keep regular hours, you know that,” he said quickly, though hopefully not too quickly. “You know what my hours are like when I’m on an active case. Jeff is probably still working even now.” At least he hoped he was, but he didn’t add that part out loud.

“Don’t you think he
would
have already called if he found something?”

Eric hesitated as the door closed behind him, but T.J. wasn’t looking at him. Although he hadn’t exactly sounded challenging, it still sounded like more than a simple question. Eric shrugged again as he resumed moving, two bottles of beer gripped in one hand. “Maybe, but it won’t hurt to check. He may have found something but just didn’t think it was important enough to call. I just want to make sure.”

T.J. nodded but didn’t turn away from the stove as he turned the heat down even farther. His next question brought Eric up short. “Baby, are you sure you’re not getting in over your head on this?”

“What?” Eric let the rest of what he would have said trail off, but he had heard the sharpness in his own voice. He already knew how T.J. would answer, though, and he waited expectantly as he saw his lover’s back move with a deep breath, and watched as T.J. turned at last to face him.

“Even I know that nothing you find this way is going to be admissible in court,” T.J. told him quietly, easing back against the counter beside the stove, “and hacking into someone else’s private life could turn dangerous, not to mention it could get all of you thrown in jail.”

“You mean hacking into Judge Kenczik’s life can turn dangerous and get us thrown in jail,” Eric returned blatantly. The quick drop of T.J.’s head was confirmation enough, and Eric felt his stomach drop. He resumed his movement long enough to put the beers on the table. Then he curled his hands around the back of the nearest chair and took a deep breath as he leaned his weight against it. “I thought we already crossed this bridge, T.J., and you didn’t argue against it when we started this.”

“No, I didn’t,” T.J. conceded, turning back to the stove to move the sauce from the heat. “What I told you then was to be careful and don’t take chances you don’t need to, or let Victor make you angry enough to do something stupid. All of that still stands.”

“I know, and I’m not,” Eric assured him. He pushed himself from the chair and circled the table, brushing his hand along T.J.’s back as he moved past him to get the plates. “If we can find something on this Alexander Daniels and his relationship to Kenczik, then we can figure out how to get it legally. Besides, if Jeff can look at Kenczik without getting caught, he can do the same for Daniels.”

“Unless Daniels is a computer hack himself,” T.J. murmured, meeting Eric’s eyes briefly as he took a plate from his hand.

Eric frowned but didn’t answer, and dinner was arranged on the plates in silence. Neither sat as the plates were deposited on the table, but just as Eric turned to get napkins, T.J. slipped his arms around him and pulled him close, claiming a quick kiss before pulling back enough to rub noses. “Just be careful, okay?”

Eric saw the concern in his eyes and relented enough to give as good as he got, adding a smile to assure T.J. he wasn’t angry. “Okay.”

“Good. Now let’s eat.”

E
RIC
squinted as he tried to see through the glass, watching for movement behind the crowded trunks of the trees through the continual fall of sleet. He sat on his knees by the window, the shade bent just enough to give him clear sight to the tree line, still as naked as he had been when he had crawled away from T.J. and out of their bed. His lover still slept peacefully, and Eric was relieved that T.J. hadn’t woken up when he moved.

The house on the other side of the tree line belonged to a middle-aged couple with a son who would be graduating high school this year. He and T.J. were on speaking terms with them, though they had never gotten together for visits or barbecues. A few conversations when they had happened to see each other outside were the extent of their acquaintance.

Eric had never asked them if they had seen anyone in the trees during the last week, and his lips tightened as he reminded himself that that would most likely be a waste of time. If they had gone beyond their mind-your-own business attitude, they would have already reported it to the police, and someone at the precinct would have passed the word to him. They all knew where everyone else lived.

Cracking wood echoed from a distance, the sound of breaking branches loud in the otherwise quiet neighborhood. Eric jerked his gaze to the right to follow the sound, but he couldn’t see anything odd through the fall of sleet, not even the branch that broke. His eyes returned to the trees directly behind the house a moment later.

He was there. Just a darker shadow in the shadows of the trees, though Eric couldn’t see him. All Eric had to do was watch, and wait for him to move.

Chapter Ten

I
CE
-
CRUSTED
ground crunched under his feet as he moved away from the tree, the fresh battery installed and the camera secured to the trunk. He had only to set up the programming on his computer, and then he would be in business. It shouldn’t take more than a half hour.

He scanned the trees again, searching for any sign of movement, anything to give away the stalker who worked for Victor Kroger. No new footprints, no branches broken at odd angles. No way to tell if the ice in the creek had broken naturally or not. One last glance at the tree assured him his work here was done.

Confident that the camera was watching on full power, he turned away from it and crossed the field and yard back to the house.

“… 629.”

The technician finished reciting the code that would disable the alarm, and Eric committed the numbers to memory alongside the one that would enable it. There were panels by both the front and the kitchen doors, with the wires trailing behind the walls to cover the entire house with the offsite monitoring. Eric handed over his credit card to cover the charges for the installation and first two months of service and waited patiently while it was run through the handheld card reader the technician carried. The man repeated his spiel about the additional charges in the event of a false alarm and reminded Eric to tell whoever else resided in the house that the alarm would be activated immediately.

There was no way T.J. wouldn’t notice the newly installed panels the instant he returned that night, and Eric knew he would have to tell his lover something. He just hoped whatever it was would be good enough to satisfy him.

T
HE
lights of Burnside Gunsmith turned off as soon as Eric was out the door, and Eric knew the door was locked a second later, even if he didn’t hear the tumblers fall. The owner had made a special concession to come in today, and that was only because of Eric’s status as a member of the Breten City Police Department. Burnside would remain closed the rest of the day, and Eric vaguely hoped the owner wouldn’t get into an accident on his way home. The crunching of ice under his tires was loud as he maneuvered from the lot to the nearly empty city street. The Beretta 92FS sat safe in its case on the seat beside him.

The owner of Burnside Gunsmith had offered to open its shooting range to allow Eric to break in the gun, but Eric had declined, as the weather would already make the trip home for both of them treacherous. If he was lucky he wouldn’t have to use it to catch the men Victor Kroger had watching him, but until Victor was caught, he wasn’t about to go unarmed.

He looked sharply in the rearview mirror as he turned on his signal and slipped into the turning lane, then back out the windshield as he rounded the corner to the lightly traveled cross street.

The Lexus was in his direct line of sight when he straightened his truck. And it was stopped.

Eric stiffened. The car was halfway down the block, far enough from the corner that it hadn’t stopped for the light, and there were no other cars in front of it to halt its movement. Recognition slammed into him. Four nights ago, that Lexus had been in their neighborhood, and now it was here. And he would be
damned
if it was a coincidence. No one—
no one
—was going to quote him the number of Lexus-model cars registered in the city this time. Slamming his truck into gear, he maneuvered to pull up behind it.

But the Lexus had seen him, its body jerking into motion at nearly the same instant as Eric’s truck. It picked up speed fast and shot through the red light as Eric slammed the accelerator. No fucking way was he getting away this time.

Horns screamed and tires screeched as a white Ford Taurus twisted wildly in the intersection, skidding across the ice as the driver barely avoided a collision. A gold Jeep Liberty screeched from the opposite direction, turning sharply away from the barreling F150, then bouncing recklessly as the black Silverado behind it plowed into its rear doors. The intersection was thick with businesses and strip malls, and Eric glanced in the mirror at he made the far side, but he didn’t stop even when the people started climbing out of their vehicles. He wanted that Lexus, and his eyes dropped quickly back to the road in front of him.

The Lexus shot left at the next light, and Eric swung the corner to pull around behind it. His lips pulled from his teeth as he neared its bumper and then, in a move both wild and reckless, swung out left and shot past it, turning at the last minute to force his nose in front. The Lexus jerked to the side with the sound of tearing tires, and metal crunched as it leaped the curb, bouncing to a halt with the front end tipping dangerously into a storm ditch. They were beside Orchard Park, summer recreation area and winter wonderland for city kids and adults alike. Today the park was empty.

Eric leaped from his truck with his hand reaching automatically for his gun, remembering belatedly that he hadn’t yet loaded or donned it. No matter. He didn’t need a gun for this.

“Get out of the car!” he screamed, reaching its trunk and slamming his hand down hard on the metal surface. “Get out of the fucking car! Now, you motherfucker!”

The door swung open, but the windbreaker-covered arm was too slow in reaching out. Eric grabbed it and jerked the driver free, twisting the arm sharply behind the driver’s back as he slammed him chest-first against the rear window.

“What the hell…?” The voice was high and agitated as the words were blurted out, the driver too stunned or too scared to struggle. “I didn’t do anything! I swear!”

“Shut up!” Eric shouted, slamming him again against the car. “You’re under arrest, and you have the right to remain silent!
Stay the fuck still!
” Again Eric slammed him into the car, twisting his arm up for emphasis.

“I didn’t do anything, man!” the driver shouted back, struggling against Eric’s grip. “I didn’t… do… anything!”