Chapter Ten

Declan walked slowly down the stairs. It was hard to believe that he might never see Mrs B again. She had been with him from the beginning. She was a tough old broad—her words, not his, although, inside, he agreed. She'd been his rock when he had opened the business. At one point she had loaned him five hundred dollars when things were tight and he needed repairs on the old van he'd been driving.

He found himself outside on the street, standing in front of Gwen's window. He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there before Gwen stepped out to see what the problem was. He looked at her for a moment in silence.

"Joan Beckerman had a serious heart attack yesterday."

Gwen put her arms around him and gave him a big hug. "I'm so sorry."

Declan could feel the shock working its way through his body. He didn't know what else to say. What came out was, "I've asked Charlie to stay on."

"That's a good idea."

Declan gave her a kiss on the top of her head and walked away.

* * * *

It was still early in the day for Bar-None. There were only a few regulars sitting in their seats. Mickey stood behind the bar and chatted to the day's Kid. This one was a step above the usual, the bartender thought. The Kid seemed to have opinions that were based on fact. He wanted to do things with his life greater than swabbing urinals and mopping up puke. Mickey doubted he would last. The Kids that stayed on longer had an air of destitution about them.

Light spilled into the bar from the outside world as the door opened and another customer entered. Mickey turned to see Declan. It's a little early for him to be showing up. "I was wondering when I'd see you. You didn't pick up your van yesterday."

Declan said nothing, just made his way to his usual table and sat down. He seemed deep in his own thoughts.

Without asking, Mickey dropped off his drink. When he received no reaction, he said, "Tough case?"

Declan looked up at him like he was seeing him for the first time. "Uh…no. Just some personal shit I've gotta work through."

"Sure, Dec," Mickey answered. "If you need me, you know where to find me."

Mickey returned to the bar, picked up his cell phone and placed a call. It was picked up on the second ring. "Good afternoon, Declan Hunt Investigations. Charlie Watts speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hey, Charlie, it's Mickey," the voice said on the phone.

Charlie picked up a pencil and pad of paper. "Mickey. Declan's out right now, can I help you with anything?"

"Declan's why I'm calling. Just a heads-up. He's here at the bar and something's wrong. Not sure what, but I thought you might want to keep your eye on him just to make sure he's okay."

"Yeah, I think I know what's going on. Thanks for letting me know." No sooner had he hung up the phone, than it rang again.

"Good afternoon, Declan Hunt Investigations—"

"Oh, thank God. You're in. We need your help. He's gone."

* * * *

It was six p.m. when the office door opened and Declan entered. Charlie was still at his desk. He stared at Declan, trying to judge his emotional state. He looked a little rough.

"You're still here," Declan said.

"Yeah, I was just taking care of a few things before I headed out…"

"You're a terrible liar. I wasn't planning on throwing myself into the river." Declan headed back towards his office.

"Oh, I wasn't worried," Charlie said. Even Charlie could hear the lie in his voice.

He continued, "Hey—we had a call when you were out. It's a potential new client."

"What's the story?" Declan's eyes seemed to brighten a bit.

"A couple in one of those new condos along 9th Avenue in Inglewood," Charlie said, referring to his notes. "A Marc Robichaud and Cory Menchin—they were tag-teaming me on the call and sounded like a cute gay couple, for what that's worth… They lost one of their dogs."

"A lost dog?"

Charlie consulted his notes again. "They're sure it was kidnapped by one of Marc's exes."

"A missing dog?"

"Its name is Mini-Wheat—it's a wheaten terrier. Anyway Marc is devastated and their other dog, Shredded Wheat—"

Declan's mouth broadened into a smile.

"Don't you start. Anyway, Shredded Wheat won't eat—"

Declan started laughing uncontrollably.

"Look—this is serious. It could mean money coming in. I was just looking at the books, and you're not exactly flush with cash."

"Mini and Shredded Wheat?" Declan squeaked out.

"Just count yourself lucky that you didn't have to deal with these guys. My leg is bruised from pinching it just to try to stop myself from laughing."

"Oh, God. Thank you. It's just what I needed. Mrs B would have peed herself over that. But we have to find a better case than that or we'll both be out of a job."

"I take it that it's a no when it comes to looking into Mini-Wheat?"

"May I never have to stoop that low," Declan said before heading toward his office. He stopped and turned back towards Charlie. "Since you're still here…do we have anything you can copy Mr Attwal's non-Monarch client files onto so we can send them over to him? He'll probably be anxious to have them when he gets back to work."

"I've got something at home that'll work. I can courier them over first thing in the morning."

"Perfect. I'll let Mrs Attwal know. I'm going to take a long, hot shower and you're going to get yourself out of here. Your folks'll have the cops out looking for you."

He stepped into his office, then poked his head out again. "And, Charlie… Thank you for being here for me."

Charlie smiled and nodded, then called the dog owners and let them know that Declan's workload wouldn't allow him to take on another case at the moment. He was pleased to hear that the dog had shown up. Their house-cleaner had taken it for a walk.

No sooner had he disconnected when the phone rang again.

Charlie answered. "Good…"—Charlie glanced at the clock on the wall—"evening. Declan Hunt Investigations. How may I help you?"

"My husband's gone missing, and I don't think the police are taking it seriously. He's been missing for five days."

"Mr Hunt is…in conference at the moment. May I take your name and number and have him return your call once he's free?"

There was a prolonged silence on the phone. "Hello," Charlie continued. "Are you still there?"

"My name is Katherine Mann. I…I think it would be best if I came in and met with Mr Hunt in person."

"Certainly," Charlie replied, checking Declan's schedule. "Would…ten tomorrow morning work for you?"

"Thank you."

"Do you know where we're located?"

"Yes. I was given your address."

"Good. We'll see you at ten."

The woman disconnected.

Interesting. She didn't want to discuss things over the phone, and she was referred to Declan.Charlie sat at the computer to see if he could find out who Katherine Mann and her husband were.

Twenty minutes later he had located the information and cribbed together a brief biography of them both. This was movie-of-the-week stuff. Once Charlie had printed the document and proofed it, he added a handwritten note to the top—For tomorrow's ten a.m. meeting. He underlined the time for emphasis. He looked at the report to ensure that he'd missed nothing, then, to be extra certain it could not be missed, he highlighted the time in bright pink. He placed it in the very centre of Declan's desk and left for the evening.

* * * *

Declan dried himself off after his shower and threw himself onto the bed. He was exhausted.

His cell phone rang. He looked at the clock. How was it nine p.m.? He must have dozed off. "Hello."

"Hey, it's Luke. Hope I'm not interrupting."

"No. Not at all. I was just lying here in bed."

"Pretty early night. I thought you'd be out at a bar with friends, partying it up."

"Yeah. That's me all right," Declan replied.

"Look, I got a call from Charlie this afternoon. He said you'd had to cancel our lunch. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, sorry. I had a bit of a rough day. I found out a close friend of mine had a heart attack and might not make it."

"Sorry to hear that," Luke said.

"I'll be all right. It was just a bit of a shock."

"Would you like some company tonight? You know, if you want to talk…"

Declan thought for a moment. "Yeah. That would be nice. Just buzz from downstairs and I'll let you in."

"Be there in thirty."

Declan did a quick tidy on the place, then a quick check of himself. He threw on some jeans and a long-sleeved white linen shirt. The street-door buzzer sounded. He hurried down to the office.

Declan got to Charlie's desk, and buzzed Luke in.

When he opened the door, Luke was standing there, his strawberry-blond hair perfectly coiffed. He wore a tight T-shirt and even tighter jeans, and white cotton trainers on his feet. God, they must be size thirteen.

The moment was broken by Luke, who said, "Can I come in?"

"Uh, yeah, of course. Sorry."

Declan took him up to his apartment and they settled on the couch next to his home gym and bed.

"I was sorry to hear about your friend," Luke said.

"Thanks."

They stared at each other.

Luke's breathing seemed to be the only sound in the room. An alarm bell went off inside Declan's head. There's something about this guy. He's different. If I start something with this one, it's going to be more than a one-night stand at The Greek.

"I needed to see you. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind," Luke said as he reached up and caressed Declan's chest.

His other hand touched Declan's cheek and stroked the bristly stubble with the back of his index finger, then moved to his soft lips.

Declan parted his lips. Luke smiled and leaned his body into Declan's. His mouth replaced his finger as they started to kiss.

Declan reached behind Luke and grabbed his T-shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Luke unbuttoned Declan's shirt and revealed the bruising on his body. "Oh my God. What happened to you?"

"Some people just don't like me."

"Idiots," Luke said, before sliding down Declan's torso and gently kissing the purple-blue skin.

Luke continued down his body, pausing at Declan's navel, which he teased with his tongue, then farther down, along the narrow trail of hair, before Declan said, "Come with me," and took him to the bed.

Declan stripped off Luke's pants, then, starting at his neck, moved downward, forming a scent map of Luke's muscular body, one he would store away in his mind.

Each part had a different smell—the tang of his armpits differed from that of his pubic hair, which was unlike that of the musky trail that led from his balls to his ass. Every part of him had a unique scent. Even his belly button and, of course, his feet. The smell of a man never failed to arouse him, even more so than the taste of him.

He sucked on Luke's toes, then worked his way back up his body, stopping at his aroused cock which he circled with his tongue until it was rock hard and covered in spit. Declan straddled his body, then rolled until Luke was on top of him. Luke placed his shoulders underneath Declan's raised knees and pushed his legs back until his cock was brushing against Declan's balls.

"Fuck me," Declan said. "Now!"

Luke obeyed. Declan gave himself up to Luke and got what he needed most. Tonight, he needed someone else to take control.