Naked Dragon (20 page)

190

Naked Dragon

by G.A. Hauser

"Tick two off, Officer Harris."

Dave shook his head sadly and drove down the street.

He parked near the emergency room and helped Robbie to stand. His pain showing on his face, Robbie was having a hard time hiding his discomfort. Leaning on Dave for support, they walked in and stood still for a moment as Dave flagged down a nurse to help them out.

* * * *

Two hours later Dave helped Robbie back into the car. He had cracked a rib and bruised his pelvis and chest during the crash. The heavy vest had prevented him from damaging his torso further, but he was sore and exhausted from his ordeal.

Dave drove him back to the precinct. When they parked in the lot Robbie took out his mobile phone and called Agent Skinner. "Frank, I'm out of the ER. No, only one cracked rib.

Just a small fracture. No, I'm okay. What's the deal? What?

How could they lose him? Where? Yeah, I'll meet you there.

Okay." He hung up and looked over at Dave as he typed his statement on the car's computer keyboard. "I have to get to the evidence room downtown. They have the car down there and they want me to take a look inside it with them. Can you give me a lift?"

"Yeah, of course." As he put the car into drive, Dave felt Robbie's frustration without him having to say a word. The K9

track had failed to find their man. The multitude of police units had stayed on containment for the entire time Robbie was in the hospital. Even the crash scene had been 191

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investigated by the traffic unit. But they were no closer to a capture than before.

Dave parked at the evidence unit's garage and sighed, looking over at Robbie. "You should go home and get in bed."

"I'm all right. You'll come by? After?"

"Of course."

Robbie looked around quickly, then pecked his lips.

"Thanks, you're a champ."

Shaking his head at the sight of Robbie's stiff movements, Dave watched Robbie climb slowly out of the car. As he walked to the door, standing next to a buzzer and keypad, Robbie turned around to give Dave a last wave as he drove away.

* * * *

The door opened from the inside. "I'm FBI Agent Taylor,"

Robbie said, flashing his ID card. The man nodded and stepped back allowing him to enter.

Robbie immediately found his colleagues there with the smashed car. "What have you got?"

"You all right? You're moving like shit," Agent Skinner said.

"I'm okay. What's up?"

"Look inside the trunk."

Robbie moved to the rear of the vehicle. "Jackpot." Inside the dirty space was a box of knives, saws, ligatures, and sleeping pills. "Fucking-mother-fucking-jackpot!" he shouted, smiling. "This has to hit him hard mentally. It's his arsenal.

I'm telling you we are playing a game of psychological warfare with this fucker. This has to hit him where it hurts.

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Has to. I'm convinced if we keep weeding him out, bit by bit, we're going to finally catch him. At least we've dealt him a blow to his ego, if nothing else."

One of the lab men was fingerprinting a knife. Robbie hurried to look over his shoulder. "Anything?"

"It's loaded with prints."

"Well, that only helps us if the fucker's on the data base.

And my guess is he isn't."

"At least we got him if he gets done for anything else,"

Agent Skinner said, still staring at the tools in the trunk.

"He won't," Robbie said, "But, finding this is still a big plus anyway."

"He steels cars, Taylor. He's obviously a crook." Agent Green moved around the car to the front. "Hey, that windshield has your face imprinted on it."

"I didn't hit it with my face. I hit it with my chest. So, it has my chest imprint on it," Robbie answered. "See, those two marks? They're my enormous pec muscles."

Agent Green burst out laughing. "At least you've kept your sense of humor."

"Beats the fuck out of crying." Robbie moved to get a look into the compartment of the car as another technician was using heated superglue to gas the inside for more prints.

"Well, we have his arsenal. I'll bet that slows him down,"

Agent Skinner mused.

Robbie wasn't so sure.

"I'll run this one through AFIS," the technician held up a fingerprint card and then left the room.

"How fast?" Agent Skinner shouted after him.

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"Ten minutes!" he shouted back.

Robbie leaned back against a wall to rest. "He's not on AFIC or NCIC, Frank. You won't catch him that way."

"We should just put you at the end of a hook and wait."

Agent Green winked at him.

Robbie smiled wryly. "Growing bolder, Johnny? You use to be a very serious little bumblebee. Now I'm getting a good teasing. Feeling affection for me, babe?"

"Shut up, Taylor. How many admirers do you need?"

"One." Robbie replied, and winked back.

* * * *

Hanging up his gun-belt in his locker, Dave felt the strain of the day and some relief that there was no twelfth murder.

They'd at least broken his streak.

"Yo, bro..."

Dave spun around to Officer Williams as he entered the room intent on changing into his street clothing. "Hey."

"What's with you always takin' that agent to the zoo? You two an item?"

Dave blinked his eyes, then realized Ken was teasing, or he hoped he was. "Uh. I don't know. I suppose it's easier than the ambulance. And, well, he ain't that badly injured so..."

It appeared the explanation was worse than the original question. Ken stared at him for a long while, a very suspicious expression on his face. "You got something you want to tell me, bro?"

"Who? Me? Like what?" Dave hung up his gun belt and felt that horrible cold pit in his stomach again.

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"It's cool, bro. It's cool."

"What's cool?" Dave panicked.

"You don't have to admit it. I don't care. Just don't keep makin' lame excuses, bro. Even though I didn't go to the U'Dub, I ain't stupid."

Dave stammered for a few seconds unsure of what to say.

Other officers came and went around them. After he finished dressing, Dave moved closer to Ken's locker so he could speak privately. "You know how it is, man. I don't want that kind of talk."

"I ain't talkin'. I'm just surprised, Dave. You played football. You were a running back. I just can't imagine it."

"Sorry, man."

"Don't apologize. It ain't something to apologize about."

Dave shrugged shyly. He wasn't comfortable talking about it.

"So, you and this FBI dude? For real?"

Looking around them quickly, Dave then whispered, "For real."

"That is mind blowing, man, mind blowing." He finished dressing and shut his locker. "He ain't hanging after this case though. What will you do? Move on? That's it?"

"I don't know. I've not thought that far into the future yet."

Ken smiled. "No. I guess not. Good luck to you, man."

"You'll keep it to yourself?"

Ken leaned closer to whisper, "Look, bro, you keep ending up takin' care of him on all the scenes. It ain't rocket science.

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If someone talks, it ain't 'cause I've blown your cover. All right, man?"

Dave reached out to clasp his hand. "Yeah, all right."

"Later."

Nodding good-bye, Dave wondered what exactly would happen if that information was made public. Judging from the way his mother and father reacted, he was hoping it wouldn't be.

* * * *

Since this case began Dave felt as if he were in some dimension other than reality. Between the gruesomeness of the crimes, to the elusive suspect, to the contrast of sleeping every night in the bed of an FBI agent and never seeing his own pillows for a week, it had taken on a surreal sense of altered reality. His parents didn't know what he was doing with his life, his co-workers were subjected to rumors and speculation, his lover was being beaten and battered and could either be killed or leave the state at any time. The only thing that stopped it from being completely overwhelming was Robbie—his determination, his devotion, and his fierce loyalty to his job and his relationships seemed to be the weight Dave needed to feel grounded and secure.

Bypassing the elevators and walking up the flights of stairs, Dave held the key to Robbie's apartment in his hand.

The urge to protect him, to stop him from becoming just another target of the Dragon's fury was another impulse Dave was struggling with. Agent Taylor was a capable thirty year old FBI agent. He certainly didn't need a bodyguard. Or did 196

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he? It was a struggle for Dave to keep himself in check and not nag him or make Robbie think he wasn't able to protect himself.

The first thing he did when he arrived was lean his ear to the door to listen, then he turned the key.

Soft music was playing and the lights were dim. In his usual spot, Robbie had his feet up on the coffee table, staring out at the view of the Sound with a glass of booze in his fist.

Quietly Dave shut and locked the door, then tossed his keys and gun pack down on a side table. As he came around the front of the couch he could see Robbie was shirtless and the bandages around his ribs and the gauze on his arm were visible. Dave thought he appeared to be contemplating the troubles of the world, his eyes glazed and tired, his expression melancholy.

Dave sat down next to him and kissed his cheek lightly. As if waking from a dream, Robbie tilted his head towards him and smiled, saying, "Hello, babe."

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore. But this is helping." He held up the scotch.

"Need a refill?"

"Sure. Thanks. Get yourself a beer."

Standing up off the couch, Dave first went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Alaskan Amber, then located the decanter of scotch and brought it with him. He set his beer down and poured for Robbie as he held out his glass.

"Thanks," Robbie whispered just as the jazz CD ended.

Dave set the decanter down on the table and relaxed, sipping his beer and staring out at the orange and pink clouds 197

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on the horizon just covering the setting sun behind the Olympic Mountains.

"How was the end of your shift?" Robbie sighed softly.

"Uneventful."

"They keep up an area check after we left?"

"A little. The captain kept the ACT team cruising those streets."

"Wonder where he disappeared to?"

"I don't know. The dog tracked him to the end of a dead end. I'm surprised we didn't catch him up in a tree or something."

"I shouldn't have lost him."

"You were running with broken ribs." Dave knew this would eventually turn into self-flagellation session.

"I should have run faster. I shouldn't have stopped. I should have shot at him."

Instead of arguing, Dave just relaxed against the soft black leather of the couch and gazed at those clouds as they grew fiery just before they dimmed to shadows. "At least we stopped him from claiming another victim. There's that, Rob.

So, give yourself some credit." Dave heard Robbie mumble something incoherent under his breath. He leaned closer and asked him what he had said.

Robbie repeated softly, "Did we?"

"Time for bed, Agent Taylor. I think you've had enough for the day."

Robbie finished his drink and set the glass down, then reached out to Dave for some help getting up.

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Gripping his arms in both hands, Dave hauled Robbie to his feet and helped him hobble to the bedroom. Biting his tongue on advising him to take a few days off and staying in bed, Dave knew what the response would be so he didn't bother. As he helped Robbie off with his slacks, Dave could tell this was upsetting him. This handsome independent agent wasn't used to being helpless and his expression was volatile.

With every effort he expended Robbie cringed in pain and inhaled a deep breath as if trying to cope with it. It was enough to make Dave want to break down in tears.

"Did you remember to take your antibiotics?" Dave asked quietly, hoping it wouldn't cause a bad reaction.

"Yes," Robbie answered calmly. "Help me change the bandage?"

"Sure." Dave followed him to the bathroom and found the fresh gauze and some ointment. When he removed the old one he was glad to see the angry flesh wound finally healing properly. "Looks better."

"It doesn't hurt as much. Just these mother-fucking ribs."

In the bright bathroom light, Dave could see Robbie was bruised under his chin as well as his chest and shoulder. Very lightly he touched the reddened skin of his jaw. "Lucky you didn't break some teeth."

It was as if that was one sentence over the line. Robbie turned his head aside in what appeared to be shame.

The sight of such harsh self appraisal killed Dave. Without another word, he wrapped his arms very gently around Robbie and brought him close to rest against his chest in an embrace. When he had him cradled in his arms, Dave kissed 199

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his soft hair and cheek, then rubbed his hands over Robbie's smooth skin to comfort him. Rocking him side to side lovingly, Dave felt his eyes fill with water and wished there was a way to fix this horrible mess. But it wasn't something he could put a band-aide on or tape up with gauze.

* * * *

Sleeping deeply nestled in the downy bed, both men were startled out of their dreams when the telephone rang. The first to react to it, Dave opened the light on the night stand and read the clock. It was just after one am. He picked up the receiver and handed it to his lover.

Shifting uncomfortably to sit up, Robbie took it and said hello.

Dave could hear a male voice on the other end and see Robbie's expression fall as he began rubbing his eyes wearily.