Jumping at Shadows Read online

  Capt. Carroll turned his back to the cameras immediately after his final words, returning to the doors of the precinct without waiting for questions. Officer Marie Collier was taped opening the door as he made his exit, and her stiff and polished figure vanished through it a moment later. Video cut back to the news station then, and the anchor on duty began his summary of events, more or less repeating the words that Capt. Carroll had said that morning.

  Eric shifted as the anchor’s recital began. He had heard the words in person; he had heard them repeated, and had heard them analyzed and interpreted too many times today. It was what it was—a bullshit speech designed to obscure the real issue. And it was getting old. Talking it to death wouldn’t change the verdict, and while the rest of city spun in circles trying to understand it, Eric couldn’t afford the luxury of standing still. Bottom line: Victor was still out there. And Eric had to move now.

  He had begun the task—quietly—soon after the speech was finished, and the Captain had listened and agreed to let him act but had made no bones about how closely his actions would be watched. Quietly, but very closely. With the weekend in front of him, he had two days to work out the details and cement his plans, and then on Monday, he would begin in earnest. But only if T.J.’s agreement was real….

  A startled gasp escaped him as fingers pinched his nipple, and he realized suddenly that T.J.’s hand had escaped and made its way up to his chest. The fingers soothed the pinch immediately afterwards, and only when Eric felt himself relaxing under the touch did he realize that he must have stiffened as his thoughts turned back to his job. He glanced over his shoulder to find T.J. staring at him with one eyebrow raised as if to say that he knew where Eric had wandered off to. T.J. leaned forward only when he was sure he had Eric’s attention.

  “Relax,” T.J. breathed softly in his ear, punctuating it with a gentle nip of teeth. “Stressing over the details isn’t going to get them worked out any faster. Give yourself a break and some time to think it through.” Another touch of teeth with another teasing pinch. “Didn’t we go over this already?”

  “Yes, we did, thank you,” Eric laughed, not quite whole-heartedly, though he was still smiling as he twisted on the couch, bringing himself face to face with his lover. T.J.’s hand slid around him to hold him in place, and Eric let one hand play with the hair behind his lover’s ear as he remembered the discussion they had had earlier. Talk of the verdict and the speech had taken place over a dinner of baked chicken, and Eric had told T.J. his plan during the cleanup afterward, both tasks completed before their activity on the couch.

  “Going after Judge Kenczik is the only option we have at the moment; I know that,” Eric told him again, reaffirming it more for his own benefit than T.J.’s. “It’s the only thing that might give us a chance at a retrial without having to scrap everything we’ve done over the last year. But going after the judicial branch of city government is dangerous, and if this blows up in our faces, we’re done, and probably in jail.” And it would be years, not weeks, of separation. This was the reason it would have to be T.J.’s decision as much as Eric’s, because it wouldn’t just be Eric’s life that would be ruined if things went wrong.

  “I know,” T.J. answered softly, pulling Eric close enough to claim another kiss. “If you can prove the judge was bought, you can get two dangerous people out of the city. If the judge gave in to threats instead, you’ll still get Victor Kroger. Either way, you will get what you want.”

  “And if it all goes wrong?” Eric pressed quietly, needing to know the answer, needing to hear it again, needing to be sure. He searched T.J.’s eyes in the glow of the TV as his hand continued to play in the dark strands of hair, and he could feel the beat of his heart against his ribs as he waited.

  “Would you do it if you really didn’t think you could succeed?” T.J. countered just as quietly. He stopped Eric’s next words with a kiss. “I know. You didn’t think yesterday could happen either, but it did. It’s going to be a risk no matter what, but you still need to do what you need to do. You need to finish what you started.”

  “Yes, but still, if this goes wrong….” Eric pressed again, fingers tightening without conscious thought.

  T.J. laughed softly as he bit Eric’s lower lip. “The answer you’re looking for is ‘yes’. If the worst happens and you get sent to jail for the next twenty years, I’ll still be here when you get out.” He pulled their bodies together, and his words turned suddenly teasing as the nips and bites continued. “And you can imagine how horny I’ll be after twenty years of sleeping alone. I’ll be ready to fuck you into the next lifetime before I even get you home.”

  “You’ll be lucky to get out of the parking lot with your clothes still on,” Eric answered fervently, with what little breath he could manage to draw. The tightness in his chest eased but didn’t vanish by a long shot, even when T.J.’s hand slid down to his ass, and his fingers slipped between his cheeks. Eric lifted his thigh over T.J.’s hips to give his fingers room, and he squeezed his own fingers in the tangle of hair at T.J.’s nape when he felt the probing fingers soothing his stretched hole. Then he surged forward to capture the tongue that had just begun to tease his lower lip, using the momentum of his own body to maneuver T.J. onto his back, pulling himself on top. His legs straddled his lover’s hips as he rested his body heavily on T.J.’s chest, and he completed one slow slide of cock against cock before he broke away from the kiss. His eyes were serious as they watched from above.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this, knowing what could happen and how ugly this could get?” T.J.’s eyes were like dark pools in the flickering light, and Eric shifted his gaze from one to the other and back again in search of any hint of reservation, the slightest doubt that they would be able to make it through this. He needed to be sure….

  T.J.’s smile was soft and sincere as he raised a hand to Eric’s cheek, stroking his knuckles gently across the skin. He didn’t look away from Eric’s searching gaze, and his words were honest and firm. “I’m sure.”

  And Eric read that certainty clearly in his eyes. No doubt. No reservation. The relief he felt was palpable, and nearly indescribable. “God, what would I ever do without you?” he breathed against his lover’s skin, and he leaned down to express that love in a kiss, one both deep and tender, saying everything he couldn’t put into words. T.J. initiated the next slide of their bodies, and Eric gasped softly at the sensation of two hardening cocks against his skin. They would make it through this, and that was all he needed to know. He slid a little harder when T.J.’s hands kneaded his ass, and he felt his hole spasm at the nearness of his lover’s fingers.

  “You could probably walk a little easier after twenty years,” T.J. murmured against his lips, though his hands encouraged the friction rather than trying to stop it. Eric smiled through the kiss as his knees spread wider, scraping his kneecaps across the fabric as he lowered himself fully over his lover’s hips.

  “Walking’s overrated,” Eric growled softly, nipping his lover’s chin, then licking across the stubble he found there. T.J. met him fully when their hips slid together again.

  Hands and bodies began moving then, and their slow grind escalated as the need to feel skin against skin became overwhelming. Hands, mouths, and bodies were soon engaged in a frenzy of motion, touching where they could, biting when they were able, burying them in the promise of finding that ultimate pleasure again. It wasn’t often they finished by rubbing off on each other, but neither of them sought penetration as they writhed in a tangle of limbs, testing the springs supporting the couch as they brought each other closer to the orgasms that awaited.

  The TV had changed to a late-night talk show by the time they added to the cum already staining the cushions.

  Chapter Three

  “Do I need to show you the flowchart for issuing a formal complaint?” Eric snapped, meeting the flat brown eyes pinned squarely on him from a few feet away. His own eyes flashed a challenge to the thirty-nine-year-old Computer
Security Specialist occupying the leftmost of the chairs circling the dark oak conference table. Jeff Davis, on loan from Cyber Crime, didn’t even blink.

  This meeting was informal, without the presence of Capt. Carroll, and none of the people Eric was addressing were his subordinates. So while Jeff may have posed the question concerning the formal complaint, he wasn’t the only one listening to the answer.

  Belinda Cox sat to Jeff’s right, looking every bit the member of the Organized Crime Task Force she was, down to her well-tailored, charcoal gray suit and stylish bob of brown hair streaked with silver. At forty-four, she was ten years Eric’s senior, divorced, and raising two kids on her own. Kids who, at thirteen and eleven, were at an age often targeted by the likes of Victor Kroger; it was the primary reason she had agreed to attend this meeting.

  Steve Candell was the third person at the table, a man who, at thirty-seven—the same age as T.J.—had already put his doctorate in Computer Forensics to use in past cases. It was no secret that Steve had higher ambitions than Breten City, and Eric wished him luck in attaining them. After Victor Kroger was securely behind bars.

  “You know the process as well as I do, Jeff,” Eric continued coolly, “and you know that there is one unshakeable truth about that process: it takes too long.” Eric held his gaze a moment longer before breaking away to meet the other eyes watching and waiting; then he resumed his march from one side of the table to the other as his speech continued. “The other truth we need to understand is that the purpose of a formal complaint is to investigate the judge, not to overturn any verdict that judge has made. Judge Kenczik may be censured, removed, retired, or admonished, and we may even be granted another trial in the end, but not before Victor Kroger has had plenty of time to do a lot more damage. And that is what we need to stop.”

  He faced them again with his last pronouncement, and the silence that followed was dramatic. Eric wasn’t usually given to stumping his case at meetings like these, but every person around that table needed to have a damn good reason for being there. They could walk at any time.

  It was already common knowledge that Capt. Carroll had filed the formal complaint with the Office of Administrative Hearings that morning, and they all knew that by the guidelines of proper procedure, the matter was no longer theirs to handle. That this meeting had been called despite the filing was telling. The three people invited to attend had the skills between them to ferret out any and all activity the judge had been involved in—they knew where to look, how to recognize what they saw, how to recover it without being caught, and—thanks to Steve Candell—how to make sure it would stand up in court. Capt. Carroll may have given his discreet approval, and may have made the calls that brought them here, but now it was Eric’s show, and it would be up to Eric to make it work.

  There was just one stipulation: if they got caught, they would be on their own—wholly and completely. Captain Carroll could justify the filed complaint, but he couldn’t justify this. Eric knew it was the end of their careers—his, Jeff’s, Belinda’s, and Steve’s—if this investigation went sour, as did every single person seated in the uncomfortable chairs before him. The fact that they still showed up said they believed Victor Kroger was worth taking down. Now they just needed to trust that Eric was capable of doing it.

  “Belinda, you’ve gone after a lot bigger fish than this, and you know that big fish don’t start out big. Now’s your chance to stop a shark before its teeth get too long,” Eric said, starting with her, then going on to address the rest, one by one. “Jeff, you know you’re the best chance we’ve got of finding out what really went down in that courtroom, and you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t believe that something did go down. Computer hacking isn’t that far from computer security. And Steve, you know what we can’t do if anything we find is going to be legal to use in court against Victor Kroger.” He looked back at Belinda. “Tell us where to look.” He turned to Jeff. “Find out what’s there and how to get it.” He looked at Steve. “Make sure it’s solid.”

  “And if we lose our jobs?” Steve asked shrewdly, shifting enough to nudge Belinda beside him, making sure she heard and understood the question as well.

  Eric leveled his gaze at him. Steve was single, and sufficiently handsome with his highlighted crew cut and lineless face to warrant the string of girlfriends he seemed to have at any given time, even without the addition of a beach house Eric was sure cost more per month than his own mortgage, truck payment, and IRA contributions combined. Thank God Eric had T.J.’s income to add to their household, or he wouldn’t be able to afford the three-bedroom ranch house they shared or the Ford F-150 4x4 he drove. T.J.’s Jeep Wrangler wasn’t exactly cheap either. Steve, however, was on his own, and he definitely needed his paycheck to maintain his lifestyle.

  “Captain Carroll approves of this as long as we don’t get caught. You’re good enough not to.” It was a statement, and the only answer Eric had to the question.

  “You can work from home on this, or from your hotel,” Eric added for the benefit of Jeff and Belinda. “Any legwork that needs to be done can be done with your fingers, and you already know how to cover your tracks in cyberspace. Just locate the possibilities. Then and only then will we consider the next step.”

  “And meanwhile, the captain continues with the OAH,” Belinda put in approvingly. “Go at this from both directions—”

  “And see who finishes first.” Eric looked at them each again and felt the beginnings of his own satisfied smile when he saw opinion beginning to swing in his favor. He had nearly won them over. The glances that passed between them asked silent questions and were answered with barely perceptible nods. A sigh of relief almost escaped him. Even if they didn’t yet fully trust his decisions, they were willing to stay to see what happened. And when dealing as far out of his league as this, Eric considered that in itself a success.

  Now the ball was in their court.

  “I never had you pegged for a cheerleader,” T.J. teased, nipping his ear and then kissing it lightly as they sprawled on the couch, their bare feet on the coffee table next to the plates that held the crumbly remains of what had once been slices of warm caramel apple pie. It was a bakery special from Sweet Molasses, the recently opened bakeshop that Eric had discovered between the precinct and home earlier in the summer. It had taken less than a week for the window display to draw him in, and the sweet caramel apple pie alone kept him coming back. Neither he nor T.J. were showing the pounds yet, but if their activity ever decreased, it wouldn’t take long with desserts like this. But extra pounds or not, Eric’s mood as he left the precinct that evening had warranted the delicious treat, and now barely a trace of the rich, gooey caramel sauce remained on the plates. A just reward after the stress of the last few days.

  T.J. had spent the weekend doing his best to keep him too distracted to dwell on the verdict and too occupied to worry over the meeting the captain had arranged. Their Saturday routine of laundry and shopping was carried out as normal, and a thorough cleaning of the couch had made it acceptable for sitting on again. A night out at Main Street while the weather held had allowed him to dance and laugh and had kept his mind off the visitors arriving on Monday. Eric had even let Jace dance with T.J., with only a mild warning to them both. It was unnecessary, of course, as T.J. had always been very good at keeping his dances with other men short, and he never ended them with a kiss and a grope the way he did with Eric. Eric’s own dances with the green-eyed Brian had ended just as platonically.

  Cold and dreary weather had kept them in on Sunday, with old movies for company and a home-cooked meal of chicken and rice ending the weekend. That and the mind-blowing blowjob that T.J. had delivered in spades.

  With T.J. on his back and Eric on his knees, Eric had spread his thighs around T.J.’s head, and his hands had alternately clenched the bars of the headboard and grabbed his lover’s dark hair as T.J. swallowed his cock, over and over. The hum around his cock while he was buried in T.J.’s throat had nearly d
riven him insane, and Eric had as much fucked his mouth as let T.J. suck him. Though his ass had been safe, the bed had still creaked and the bars of the headboard had still rattled against the wall. Not a drop of cum was lost when he came, though, as T.J. swallowed every pulsing shot as he greedily sucked him dry. The only cum that had been spilled was T.J.’s own as it splattered across Eric’s back.

  Still, Monday morning had come all too quickly, and T.J. had laughingly accused Eric of getting cold feet before thoroughly jacking him off in the shower. But later, with the meeting over and a veritable success, cold feet had turned into the ecstasy of victory, and he had barely said “hello” as he walked through their door before he had dropped the pie and wrestled T.J. to the bed.

  Now, with the stress of the initial meeting over, a good fuck stinging his ass, and a dinner of leftover chicken and caramel apple pie filling his stomach, Eric finally felt the adrenaline easing. He let out a contented sigh as the fingers of the hand draping his shoulder began a gentle caress of his nipple, and he closed his eyes as the tongue in his ear continued to work.

  They had both put on sweats but had forgone sweatshirts—or even T-shirts—given the warmth inside their house. The TV was turned on to a cop drama, but the volume remained low, allowing for Eric’s recounting of the meeting with his group. With that now behind them, the fingers and tongue grew bolder, and Eric let his own hand begin to burrow between T.J.’s fleece-covered thighs. He inched it a little higher when those thighs opened just a bit.