Taken in Hand (26 page)

living with a man. He explained to us that Billy was his lover.

As young as we were, it was difficult for us to understand.”

Amazed at how much information the man handed out

on such a private matter, and still wondering if any of it was

true, Chad rocked on his heels. “Um yes, that must have

been really upsetting for you. How old were you?”

“I was fourteen by then. Jeremy was sixteen. He

blamed Dad’s life style for him deserting us and for our

parents’ divorce.”

“Was there ever a time when Jeremy, ah, like went to

visit your dad and something happened to…” He waved his

hand slightly. “…maybe intensify his anger or hatred?”

Jason gave a faint smile and shook his head. “Jeremy

refused to ever visit him after that one time. He had a better

understanding of what, or I should say,
how
two men could

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be lovers. It was a few years before I fully comprehended not

only what a homosexual relationship entailed but

understood our father was a Dom in a BDSM relationship.”

“So then you understood why Jeremy hated him so

much,” Chad murmured in distraction. Was there even a

kernel of truth in what this guy said?

“No, I found my peace in serving the Lord. I have never

given up hope that someday Jeremy will find a way to release

his anger, though with our father dead now there’s no

chance of a reconciliation. He may never have closure to the

source of his inner rage.”

That was the opening he needed. “And you said that

was a couple of years ago?”

“No, only recently, a couple of months now.”

The bastard was still lying. Chad still dug. “How did

your mother take it all?”

“You mean when their marriage broke up? Devastated,

of course. She suddenly found herself alone with two young

boys. She’d never worked outside the home before then. It

was very difficult for her.”

“But she was into the lifestyle? The BDSM stuff?”

“Oh, no, not at all. She just loved him so much she

went along to keep him from leaving her.”

Chad jumped when Adam spoke up. He hadn’t even

been aware of him coming back into the room. “That doesn’t

seem very likely, Reverend. She may have told you that, but

in a true BDSM relationship, the dominant partner only does

what the more submissive partner is willing to do.”

Jason gave him his weak smile. “I don’t believe my

father had any training then, though I believe he did

afterwards.”

Chad hoped Adam didn’t take him off subject. As long

as Jason was talking so freely, he wanted to get all the

information he could, but his cell phone rang just then,

before he could continue with his questions. He was

prepared to ignore it until he saw Johansen’s number on the

ID. “Excuse me. I’ve got to take this,” he told Adam.

“Of course.”

Chad walked quickly down the hallway to the guest

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room and ducked inside. “Yeah?” he asked, closing the door

to his room. “What have you got?”

“He was fucking adopted by his mother’s second

husband.”

“Who’s adopted? What the hell are you talking about?”

“The preacher. The mother finally returned my call.

She verified the divorce, all right and then dropped a bomb.

Rubin is her second husband’s name. He adopted Jason.

That’s why we had trouble locating records on Jeremy. We

were searching under the wrong fucking name.”

“He didn’t adopt both of them?”

“There is no Jeremy. Apparently the crazy bastard has

a split personality. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Jeremy

died when he was twelve years old. It’s been the preacher all

along.”

Chad dropped the phone, jerked the drawer out of the

nightstand to get his gun, and tore out of the room. He

caught himself before he rounded the corner, took one deep

breath to prepare himself, and charged into the room.

Everything was quiet except for some ragged breathing

coming from the kitchen. He rushed toward the noise and

was horrified to see Adam tied and gagged on the floor,

unconscious, a dark pool of blood seeping out from under

his head. Before he could get to him, a slight noise made

Chad pivot around to see the preacher coming at him. Chad

spun, his left arm catching the hand holding a stun gun

aimed at him. Jason Rubin caught Chad’s right wrist at the

same time, keeping Chad from swinging his gun around for a

shot at him.

Instinct and training kicked in along with a double

surge of adrenalin. Chad stepped into him, aiming his right

knee at Jason’s crotch. The son of a bitch was fast and

strong. He turned to take the blow to his hip, released the

stun gun and twisted his wrist, loosening Chad’s hold on

him. One hand free, teeth bared, and growling, Jason

lunged, going for Chad’s throat. Chad swung his arm up,

defecting Jason’s arm, and reversed the action, back fisting

Jason in the side of his head. Jason staggered back, but

transferred his free hand, twisting Chad’s thumb back from

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the grip of his gun. The gun clattered to the floor, and Chad

didn’t care. At a primeval level he wanted to kill. One hand

squeezing Jason’s throat, he didn’t feel the punches Jason

delivered. He delivered his own, holding Jason with one hand

and pounding the face in front of him with the other. A

vicious punch to the jaw, another punch to the face, another

and another, he drove Jason to the floor. Knee in Jason’s

chest, Chad drew back for still another blow to the

unconscious man’s head when a strong arm grabbed him

and pulled him sideways.

“That’s enough!”

Not for Chad. He lunged forward only to have another

arm snag him at the waist, spinning and pulling him away. A

detective Chad only vaguely recognized stood in front of him,

arms out to block him, while another knelt down beside

Adam, speaking urgently on his radio.

“Enough,” the man in front of Chad said. “He’s down.

Back off and calm down.”

Adrenalin still coursed through his system, but Chad

shifted his gaze toward Adam. Without a single thought of

how it would look, or what the two men might think, Chad

rushed to Adam and dropped to his knees beside him. He’d

have jerked him up in his arms if the other man hadn’t

stopped him.

“Don’t move him. The paramedics are on the way.”

Calmed down marginally, Chad clenched his fists. He

knew what the man was saying was right, but every instinct

he had shouted at him to hold Adam in his arms. He fought

for control of himself and laid a hand on Adam’s chest to at

least satisfy himself Adam was still breathing. He swallowed

hard in relief at the up and down motion beneath his palm.

Brushing Adam’s hair from his forehead, he leaned down

and tried to look under him, searching for the source of

blood still seeping onto the floor.

“Must have hit his head on the island when he fell,”

the man said, pointing to a spot of blood on the counter

edge.

The man’s name was Carlson, Chad remembered. He

and the other man were one shift of the surveillance team.

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He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“At least now we know why there had been no forced

entry. Once he knocked them down and tied them up, all he

had to do was leave a door open, establish that he left, and

sneak back after dark.”

Chad nodded again, forcing himself up to his feet to

pull open a drawer. He had a knife in his hand to cut Adam’s

bonds before Carlson stopped him. “Let the medics do that.

You don’t know that he didn’t break an arm or something.”

Christ, he couldn’t do anything but nod like one of

those crazy dolls, barely aware of what was going on around

him for staring at Adam.

Carlson asked the other man, “How’s he?”

“In worse shape than the guy in there. He beat the hell

out of him.”

“I meant to kill him,” Chad murmured, finally finding

his voice and from Carlson’s reaction at the wrong time.

“Jesus, don’t say that where someone else can hear

you.” He gripped Chad by the shoulder. “I know it’s the

adrenalin talking, but saying something like that could get

you in a lot of trouble. It’s a damn good thing Johansen

called to get us in here before you did kill him. We never

thought a damned thing about the preacher visiting.”

Chad sat back down on his heels next to Adam, hand

on his chest. “Where the hell are the medics?”

“They’re here.”

Sirens blared, the sound growing closer and stopping

in the front yard. Johansen rushed through the door behind

the paramedics, his head whipping around to take in the

scene. He went straight to Chad and turned his head by the

chin. “You okay?”

Bruises were beginning to sting and throb on his face,

but he pulled away and nodded. His eyes never left Adam as

the paramedics worked on him. Chad murmured, “I fucked

up. The fucking preacher was right there in front of us the

whole time, the connection to all of them. He knew them all,

begging all the time for donations. I heard them talking

about it and didn’t put it together.”

“Yeah, we all screwed up.” Johansen looked nearly as

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sick as Chad felt. “I called the manager at the club on the

way for confirmation. He worked there as a dungeon master,

part-time under Jeremy’s name, the last name of their

natural father, not Jason’s adopted father’s. That’s why it

didn’t raise a flag when we ran all the employees, and the

hood kept everyone from recognizing him. Like I said, there

is no brother, at least not anymore.”

“How the hell did he fool everyone into thinking his

brother was still alive?”

“From what we can tell, he’s been living as both of

them, switching back and forth, since his teen years, using

Jeremy’s birth certificate and social security number to

create his alternate personality.” He grimaced. “Things I was

about to tell you when you hung up.” He paused with

another grimace. “His mother is on her way here to fill in

some holes, but she was pretty upset with me to start with

in questioning me about her dead son.”

“Was any of that true about his father?”

“His real father, yes, not the man who adopted him.”

“That’s why he killed those men?”

“Really hard to say this early. The shrink thinks even

though he hated his father and blamed the lifestyle for being

deserted as a child, he was drawn to it, but never had the

nerve to come out and live it openly. Maybe he hated gays for

having the courage he lacked, or like we thought before, in

some twisted way, they served as some kind of surrogates for

punishing his father. The truth is, we may never know,

unless he confesses, and as psycho as he is, we probably

won’t understand it even then.”

Chad looked down, distraught as the paramedics

carried Adam by him on a stretcher.

Johansen’s hand slid out to grip and squeeze Chad’s

arm. “He’ll be okay, just a bad bump on the head.”

Chad shuddered, and his breath caught in a sob.

“Hold it together,” Johansen whispered in his ear,

“Unless you want the others to know.”

Looking around, Chad could see the sidelong looks he

was getting. “Fuck them. I’m in love with him.”

“I know, or at least I thought that was what was going

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on with you. Philips could see it, too. Just keep it together

and I’ll take you to the hospital. You need to be looked at

anyway.”

Chad nodded, following the stretcher that moved past

him, not that he thought he needed a doctor himself. At that

moment, he didn’t care about anything but Adam.

* * * *

“He’s fucking crazy.”

Chad stood in Johansen’s office the next day, talking

with him about the case. He hadn’t left the hospital the night

before until he knew Adam was out of danger no matter how

insistent the chief had gotten. Though he was sore, his own

injuries were minor. Once at the precinct, the day had been

exhausting after the mother and everyone else involved had

been interviewed extensively, he’d answered question after

question and made out his written report. The whole time