Bring the Heat (14 page)

Austin couldn't help but smile at the comical expression on Blair's boyish face. “Hi, Frankie. Can we come in?”

“Sure.” The younger man stepped aside to let them in, looking him over from head to toe, dark brow furrowed in concern. “I heard on the news about what happened. Drugged! Jeez, are you okay?”

“As long as I'm unconscious. Guess it'll take a few more days before I'm back to my old self.” Getting to business, he gestured to Danny, who'd been hanging in the background. “Frankie, this is my partner, Lieutenant Danny Coleman. Danny, Frankie Blair.”

“Mr. Blair,” Danny said, offering his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Frankie looked past Austin, blinking as though noticing Danny for the first time.
There's noticing, then there's
noticing
,
Austin thought wryly.
Put those big brown eyes back in your head, Frankie Boy. This one's after my girl
.

Blair stepped forward, flashing Danny a dimpled grin, wiping his palm on his jeans almost self-consciously before shaking the other man's hand in a firm grip.

“Please, call me Frankie.”

Danny's green eyes widened a fraction, a strange expression flickering across his face, then gone so fast Austin might've imagined it.

“Danny,” he responded, his voice warm.

Danny? Not “Lieutenant Coleman”?
Austin's brows lifted in surprise. In two years, he'd never heard his starched and polished by-the-book partner breach professional etiquette with a witness.

“Cool,
Danny
.”

Three seconds of complete silence. As if realizing the handshake had lasted about two seconds too long, Danny released his grip as though he'd been scalded. He took a step back, putting space between himself and Frankie, his face unreadable.

Austin narrowed his gaze at his friend.
What in the ever-loving hell was
that
?

Frankie cleared his throat. “Are you hungry? I, um, made chicken salad. I made plenty for three sandwiches, if either of you would care to join me. We can eat while we talk.”

Austin held up a hand, shaking his head. “Not for me, but thanks anyway. This damn pain medication has my stomach turning flips.”

“Since you're offering, I'd love one.” Danny smiled. “I'm kinda running on empty.”

“Fantastic!” Their witness-turned-host gestured to a couple of barstools that faced into the gleaming kitchen. “Sit. Fire away with your questions while I make the sandwiches.”

As they settled onto the stools, Austin took off his
sunglasses and laid them on the bar, noting Blair's pressed jeans and nice blue polo shirt. The wavy black hair framing his face was damp, as though he'd just showered. “Where's the company uniform? I thought you were working today,” he observed.

“Had to take the afternoon off,” Frankie replied, fishing a Tupperware bowl out of the fridge. He set it on the counter next to a package of baguette rolls. “I've got an appointment this afternoon to meet with my adviser. She'll go over my credits and approve my application to graduate. It's just a formality.”

“What's your degree in?” Danny asked.

“Art, specializing in graphic design. I landed the job at Dynamic Media Creations, starting at the end of May,” he said proudly. “I'll be working on designs for advertisements.”

“Wow, that's cool,” Danny enthused, clearly impressed.

“I think so, too. Especially since it means I get to say ‘so long' to the cable guy routine.” He removed three rolls from the package and began to slice them in half.

“Congratulations,” Austin put in. “This is the job Matt Blankenship recommended you for, correct?”

The light in Frankie's eyes went out like the flame of a candle, and his smile withered. “Yes, but I didn't know him. He did it because Rick got the idea to show him some of my work. Matt liked what he saw and thought I had potential. He put in a good word with his boss, and the rest was up to me.”

“Rick's a friend of yours, or just an acquaintance?”

He paused, a wounded expression crossing his features before he mastered it. “A friend, that's all. I'll be honest. I would've liked more, but—” He shrugged, then laid out the rolls and began to spoon on the chicken salad. “Wasn't in the cards.”

“Rick's not gay?” Austin pressed. He felt bad causing Frankie pain, but he had to know whether his initial impression of Yates had been on target.

“No. He was confused for a while. He's not now.”

Ah. Rick Yates had cleared up his confusion at Frankie's expense. And obviously hurt him in the process.
Damn
. While Austin scrambled for a way to express his sympathy without intruding on the guy's privacy, Danny solved the dilemma.

“I'm sorry, Frankie. That totally sucks.”

Blair's gaze snapped to Danny's, and his humor returned. “For sure. Ever felt like you're a fucking science project in a glass jar?” He mimicked a woman's falsetto voice. “Look, children, a gay man!
Homo sapiens Homosexuas
. Don't touch—it might bite!”

“Christ.” Austin chuckled.

Danny, however, didn't laugh. He watched as Frankie finished with the sandwiches, slicing them in half and placing each on a plate. After garnishing them with chips, he slid two of the plates in front of his visitors.

“Oh, none for me. I'm not—”

“Eat,” Frankie ordered, cutting off Austin's protest. “You're running around investigating on an empty stomach and you wonder why you feel like shit? Jeez.”

“Well, okay. Thanks.” He sniffed. It
did
look good. He picked it up, took a bite. Heaven. “Wow, this is great. I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”

“Terrific,” Danny mumbled between bites.

Their host grinned, pleased. “The chicken salad's homemade. I'm a pretty decent cook when I have the time, which unfortunately hasn't been often, with work and finishing college.”

Frankie grabbed them each a soda from the fridge. They ate in comfortable silence for a minute before Danny brought the conversation back to the unpleasant subject at hand.

“Sounds like you don't get out much.”

“Not very often, but that's all right by me. I've never been big on the club scene.”

Danny cocked his head. “But you
do
go out occasionally. You told me on the phone you saw Yates and Blankenship the night of the murder. We need for you to tell us about that evening.”

Austin shot his partner a scowl. Really? He didn't appreciate being out of the loop. And he goddamn well intended to tell Coleman so when they left here.

Frankie nodded. “It's been over between me and Rick for months, but we're still friends. I went to Spanky's that Saturday night to see his and Matt's band play. Or maybe I just have a masochistic need to torture myself.” He sighed, running a hand through his thick dark hair. “Anyway, I went. Stayed for the whole evening, until after the last set.”

Danny leaned forward, elbows on the bar. “Did you see anyone strange hanging around, either a man or a
woman? Someone acting suspicious, watching Matt? Coming on to him?”

Frankie barked a jaded laugh. “
Everyone
in that part of town is weird, and most of them are looking to score something or someone. Picking out one weirdo down there is like trying to spot a polar bear in a snowstorm.” He hesitated, took a deep breath, and dropped his bombshell.

“But after the band was through and had packed up their equipment, I saw Matt leave. With a woman.”

Hot damn!
Now they were getting somewhere. Glancing at his partner, Austin managed to contain his excitement.

“Did you notice anything peculiar about Matt before he left?” Danny asked carefully.

“Yeah, but it didn't hit me until the next day, when I saw the news about his murder. Matt seemed drunk, but that wasn't unusual, so I didn't think much about it then.” His mouth flattened.

“Later I realized he hadn't hung around for long after their set, maybe half an hour. I specifically remember he didn't drink during their show that night, but he was weaving when he left on the woman's arm. I wondered how he'd gotten wasted so fast. Then I just figured he'd popped some ecstasy. According to Rick, Matt was notorious for doing that shit.”

Danny looked at Austin. “That's when Matt was dosed with the date-rape drug.”

The truth remained unspoken between them. Frankie had most likely been the last person to see Matt Blankenship alive—and on the arm of a killer.

Blair drew the awful conclusion on his own. “Aw, fuck.”

“Yeah.” Austin paused. “The problem is, who's the woman? Our killer is supposed to be a man.”

“Damn,” Danny muttered. “But remember, the long black hair found on Matt's body was synthetic. So the killer could be anyone.”

“True.” Austin turned to Frankie. “After you saw the news, why didn't you call the police and report what you'd seen?”

“Hell, I'm not an idiot,” Frankie huffed. “Don't you think I was suspicious? I called the Sugarland Police that afternoon. Got the royal runaround and ended up leaving a message on some detective's voice mail. Nobody bothered to call me back, so I thought they didn't need my information. For all I knew, they'd already ruled out the woman I saw.”

“Do you remember the detective's name?”

“Herrera, I think.”

Austin slapped his hand on the counter. “Son of a bitch!” Herrera! By God, he'd roll up the case file and shove it up the jerk's ass. “Call Herrera, Danny. Find out why he ignored a possible witness to a murder. Because if I do the honors, I'll get called out on the carpet.”

“Will do, with pleasure.” He looked back to Frankie. “Can you describe the woman? If it
was
a woman.”

“Tall, long black hair almost to her waist. She wore a black dress that ended midcalf. I didn't get a good look at her face, but I thought she was a pretty large lady. Not fat, just big-boned.”

“How tall?”

“Very. Statuesque. I'd guess Matt was around six
feet, and I recall thinking she could look him in the eye. I only saw them from across the room as they were leaving. I doubt I could pick her out of a lineup, but if she came into the club again I'm pretty sure I'd know it was her.”

Danny gazed at him a few seconds, worry clouding his eyes. “Do you go to Spanky's often?”

“Hardly ever. It's not my scene. Like I said, I rarely go out. If I do, I usually meet friends at other places that are more tame.”

“Good. If I were you, I'd stay away from the nightlife altogether for a while,” Danny advised. “Just to be on the safe side.”

Frankie set his can of soda down with a
plunk
, mouth dropping open. “You don't think the killer would come after me . . .”

“If a serial killer recognizes a witness, all bets are off. Lie low and don't take any chances.” On that dire note, Danny stuffed the last bit of sandwich into his mouth.

“God.”

Blair appeared so shocked and upset by the possibility that his life might be in danger, Austin felt sorry for him. Hell, he knew that fear too well. “Hey, it doesn't hurt to be careful, that's all. Don't sweat it.”

“Right,” Frankie drawled, rolling his eyes. “Just another day in the jungle. Does the PD put you guys through desensitivity training or what?”

“I'm a sensitive guy.” Danny grinned. “Rainey's the asshole.”

He scowled. “I am
not
an asshole.”
Am I?

They thanked Frankie for his hospitality. He waved off their thanks with a smile, then dumped their plates in the sink and checked his watch.

“Hate to rush, but I've gotta book out of here if I'm going to make my appointment,” he said. “But if you need me for anything else, I'll be around.”

Danny fished his wallet from his back pocket and removed a small card, handing it to Frankie. “The main number to our field office is on there, as well as my cell phone. Don't hesitate to call anytime if you remember something else or a problem comes up.”

Frankie took the card and hesitated, cutting Danny a speculative look from under his dark lashes. “Sure.”

Austin glanced from his partner to Frankie, amused by the very real supercharged undercurrent passing between them.

As they took their leave and headed back to Danny's car, the direction of Austin's thoughts threw him even more off balance than he'd already been. Putting them aside, he refocused on the most pressing issue first.

“You kept me out of the loop on Blair being a witness,” he began.

“I didn't do it on purpose, and I only found out when I talked to him this morning.”

“You could've mentioned it.”

“Well, I didn't,” Danny stressed, anger simmering close to the surface. “You're not exactly up to speed yet, and you know it. You show up at work half looped, about to fall over—”

Austin stopped in his tracks. His friend squared off
with him toe-to-toe, not giving an inch. “I don't give a shit. If you know something, I know it five minutes later, unless I'm dead. Got it?”

“I got it,” he snapped.

“And what the hell was that back there with you and Frankie?” Austin winced inwardly at how damn personal—and harsh—the question sounded.

Danny stilled, his eyes gone cold as chipped ice. “What're you talking about?”

Christ. He'd made a mistake bringing this up. “I don't know, partner. You tell me.”

Every muscle in his friend's body went rigid, and his jaw clenched. “I resent what you're insinuating.”

“I'm not
insinuating
the fact that Frankie couldn't keep his eyes off you and that it seemed mutual,” he said. “Not that there's anything wrong with that, because there isn't. If there's anything you want to tell me, you can. You know that.”

He'd stepped over the line. Danny's mouth fell open in shock, outrage contorting his face. A myriad of emotions swirled in his eyes. Pain, anger, and panic. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing heavily.

“Jesus, Danny. I'm sorry—”

In one step, his friend closed the gap between them and shoved Austin in the chest, hard enough to send him staggering backward.

“Fuck you, asshole!”

“Danny—”

Another shove, this one slamming his back into a tree trunk. Sharp pain radiated through his back.
Murder in his eye, Danny grabbed a handful of his shirt in one fist.

“Are you so goddamn jealous over my date with Laura that you'd accuse me of being gay?” he hissed. “Does it drive you crazy knowing you're such a dumb-ass she might end up being mine?”

He did his best to defuse the situation. “This isn't about you and Laura at all. I wasn't imagining the vibes I got in there—admit it.”

His partner tightened his grip, clenched his free hand into a fist. He braced himself for a blow that never came. Instead, he watched something inside Danny wither and die, leaving a blank slate. No infectious humor, no rage. Nothing.

He cursed himself for handling everything so badly. And prayed he hadn't severed their friendship.

“You go straight to hell,” Danny said, releasing him. He spun on his heel and strode for the car, leaving his partner to follow. Or not.

“Too late, pal.” He sighed. “I'm way ahead of you.”

Much later, as Austin stewed over Danny's impending date with Laura, it occurred to him that his pissed-off friend had never denied one word of his observation regarding Frankie.

Not one single word.

•   •   •

She hadn't heard from Austin all day, even after work. Not surprising, considering the plan he and Danny had cooked up. More Danny's idea than Austin's, and she had a feeling her lover wouldn't be too happy about it.

Danny had arrived and had driven her home so she
could change for their “date.” He'd even offered to drive her out to Austin's afterward, once he was sure they weren't being followed. She wasn't sure the subterfuge was going to fool a brutal killer like this one, but it couldn't hurt. Or at least she hoped not.

Laura stared at her disconsolate reflection in the bathroom mirror. She didn't like this at all. It felt wrong going out with Danny when she knew he'd hoped for more. A hot rush of tears stung her eyes, but she fought them back. Why the hell was she so weepy? It wasn't as if she wouldn't see Austin again.

She smoothed her black skirt and blouse, brushed out her hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders, and dabbed on some lipstick. Finished, she went to the living room, where Danny was waiting.

Hearing her approach, he rose from the sofa with a smile. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you. So do you, handsome.”

He did, too. A beautiful smile with straight white teeth in his boyishly handsome face. All that lush chestnut hair, falling like silk into sparkling green eyes and down to the collar of his coat.

He treated her to dinner at an outrageously expensive steak house. The man was fabulous company. Funny, charming, and mature beyond his years, he was just about as perfect as a guy could be. Exactly the sort of man any woman in her right mind would love.

Except he wasn't Austin Rainey.

As they talked and ate, both of them kept a sharp eye out for anyone who appeared to be watching them
with too much interest. They spotted nobody suspicious, but that meant nothing.

Walking back to his car after dinner, Laura linked her arm with his. “I had a wonderful time, Danny.”

“Me, too.” Then he said, “You're falling for him, aren't you?”

The love in her heart was almost physical. She didn't bother to pretend ignorance. “Falling? No. More like fell, hard.”

“I knew. Maybe because he's been sitting between us all evening.”

She angled her head to look up at him. The corners of his mouth were tilted up, but she thought he seemed distant. Troubled. She pulled him to a stop, turned him to face her. “I won't lie to you. I've been in love with Austin for so long, I don't remember what my life was like before we met. I'm sorry if I've hurt you. I've screwed up, haven't I?”

He shook his head. “You haven't hurt me, Laura. And no, you haven't screwed up. I'd like for us to be friends.”

“I'd like that, too.” She paused, studying his miserable expression. “What's wrong?”

“I'm the one who's screwed up. Austin and I had a nasty falling-out earlier today,” he confessed, studying his shoes.

“Oh no! What happened? Was it about me?”

“Among other things.”

Lord, were those tears in his eyes? “Sweetie, you can talk to me.”

A strange look crossed his face. “Can I . . . can I kiss
you? I know you're with Austin and I told him I wouldn't poach, and I won't, but . . . I have to know something.”

The request wasn't what took her by surprise. It was the desperate urgency in his voice. The way he stared down at her, a silent plea etched in his face. As if she alone held the answer to unlock a mystery.

“All right,” she agreed. “Just once.”

Laura tipped her head up and Danny's strong hands cupped her face. Slowly, he lowered his head, covering her mouth with his. Boy, could he kiss. His lashes swept down as his lips captured hers, warm and soft. Heartbreakingly gentle. His tongue teased the seam of her mouth, but never invaded. Sensual, erotic. Perfect, for the right woman.

He didn't make the earth quake under her feet. Didn't set her soul ablaze with conflicting emotions that turned her inside out. Not like Austin.

Breaking the kiss, he opened his eyes and dropped his hands. “Seems I lost you somewhere along the way.”

“Hey, you're gonna break somebody's heart with that kiss one of these days,” she vowed, attempting to lighten the mood.

“You think so?”

He sighed, staring off into the night, looking so sad Laura wanted to cry. She touched the sleeve of his coat. “Danny, I didn't mean to make you feel used. Or sad, or whatever.”

“It's okay, Laura,” he whispered low. “Because I think maybe I used you a little bit, too.”

•   •   •

In the end, Danny put an end to Laura's dilemma by ordering her to pack a bag. He was giving up guard duty and taking her to Austin's place, where they would either kill each other or work things out.

Danny never told her what the rest of his fight with Austin had been about, but Laura sensed it was bad. So bad he wasn't willing to risk putting more strain on their friendship by staying with her, even platonically, to act as her protector. There was nothing between her and Danny, but Austin didn't know that.

Though he should, she thought. Especially after the times they'd spent in each other's arms, making love. Did he really think she was that easy?

Danny drove like a bat out of hell the entire way. He said the sooner he got her to Austin, who'd most likely worked himself into a towering rage by now, the better. Laura thought he was exaggerating a tad.

Until they arrived.

Danny pulled into the circular driveway, parked in front of house, and killed the ignition. “His truck's here and the living room lights are on. Ready?”

She swallowed her nerves. “I'm not so sure this is a good idea.”

“Me, either. Got a better one?”

“Not at the moment.”