I stared at the panorama before me in irritation. No one was supposed to be here— except Spike and the bastard who’d snatched him—not until the morning.
Paramedics were working on Spike; Cisco was sitting on a tall, skinny, twenty-something guy who bucked from time to time; leaning casually against a wall were Quinn’s uncles, Tony and Bryan Sebring.
Paul rushed to Spike. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
“Glad.” Spike’s voice was thready.
“What’s wrong with his wrists?” He was staring at the bandages the paramedics had wrapped around them, and he sounded shaken. The white was marred by bright red where blood was seeping through.
“He kept trying to work himself free of the handcuffs, and as a matter of fact, he had succeeded in freeing his left wrist. That’s why the blood—”
“Handcuffs? Oh God!”
“It’s okay, Paul. I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not! Your poor face! Your poor wrists!”
“That’s nothing.” Spike’s face crumpled, and he buried it against Paul’s waist. I was close enough to hear his whispered words. “He made me piss myself.”
Yeah. I’d been struck by the almost overpowering odor of stale urine, and I’d had the feeling forcing Spike to have an accident was part of this bastard’s plan, whatever that was.
“It’s okay, baby.” Paul wrapped an arm around Spike’s shoulder and pulled him closer. “Vince. I want that son of a bitch dead.”
I touched his hair. “Consider it done.”
Tony Sebring glanced at his watch, and then pushed himself away from the wall and stalked toward me. For an older man, he moved easily. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“My bad.” I curled my lip at him and growled, “How long have you been here?”
He curled his lip back at me. “Not long.”
I didn’t believe him, but I wasn’t going to challenge him just now. “And how long have the paramedics been here?” Paul and I had seen the ambulance outside the studio, along with a few cars.
“About ten minutes.”
“How bad is he hurt?” Paul asked the paramedics. I could see he wanted to fuss over Spike, but he was a nurse, and he knew he had to give them room to work. Still, he stayed within touching distance. “You can tell me,” Paul assured them. “I’m a nurse.”
“And he’s my boyfriend. You can tell him.”
I watched the paramedics to see if their care of Spike would change now that they realized he was gay, but it didn’t. Maybe because they were Angelinos.
“He’s a little battered—”
Except for a livid palm print on his cheek, it was just a little. I thought of Paul’s injuries from the beating he’d taken last spring—a collapsed lung, four fractured ribs, a broken nose, a dislocated elbow, cuts, scrapes, and assorted contusions—and was surprised Spike wasn’t hurt worse.
Spike seemed more together now, and somehow he managed to get an arm around Paul’s waist. “I knew you’d come for me. And I never said I didn’t love you!” He leaned around him and glared at the guy Cisco was sitting on.
The paramedic continued to enumerate Spike’s injuries. “Sunny Jim over there injected him with a drug—”
“He drugged you? We never let you use drugs!”
“I know, Paul.” Spike stroked Paul’s arm, trying to reassure him.
Paul touched the bruise on Spike’s cheek with careful fingers, but Spike still flinched, and Paul wheeled on the paramedics. “What else is wrong?”
“Your friend here has got a pretty bad headache, but we can’t give him anything for the pain because of the drug in his system.”
“Why not?”
“The sofa over there...” The paramedic nodded toward the man Cisco was sitting on. “... refuses to tell us what he used, so we’ll have to wait for the results of a tox screen.”
“Listen to me, Spike. Focus on me,” Paul said, repeating what Spike had told him when he’d been in the hospital last year. “Let the pain wash away.”
I joined Cisco, squatted down, and studied the man on the floor. “Who’s this clown?”
“According to his driver’s license, his name is Giles Stapleton.”
“Of the Philadelphia Stapletons,” Tony Sebring said with some distaste. “They never were well-thought-of.”
Stapleton started to protest, but Cisco reached down and pinched his nose closed. “Zip it, asshole.”
I approved of his method for shutting up Stapleton. Hell, he could have jammed a knife into the base of Stapleton’s skull and I’d have approved.
It looked like Cisco had him under control, so I straightened and went to Quinn’s uncles. “What are you two doing here?”
“This is my place of employment,” the younger Sebring said. “Of course I’d be here if nefarious happenings were afoot in this studio.”
“And I’d have to be here to keep an eye on the sprout.” Tony Sebring gave me a tight grin.
I shook my head and sent a disgruntled glare in Cisco’s direction. “I thought Cisco said you were out, but that you’d have everything smoothed out for me to have access to the studio tomorrow.”
“We were. All this...” Bryan Sebring waved a hand to indicate the set and then Spike and Stapleton. “... would have been smoothed out by the time you arrived. It is all smoothed out.”
“Jesus, do you know what Quinn would do if anything happened to you?”
“You’re not responsible for us, Vincent.” Tony Sebring crossed his arms over his chest. “And neither is our nephew.”
I bit back another growl. It wasn’t a good idea to reveal any emotion, not even to Quinn’s uncles—I wasn’t the Ice Man, but I had a reputation for being a stone cold agent. I returned to Cisco and Stapleton and kicked Stapleton in the ribs, ignoring his yelp, and rejoined Paul and Spike.
“You’re still our hero, babe.” Paul rubbed my shoulder.
There was no reason why I couldn’t growl at him, so I did. I was no kind of hero; I hadn’t done a fucking thing.
“You can’t go around kicking guys when they’re down!” one of the paramedics protested.
“Oh no? Want to see me do it again?” I turned back to Stapleton.
“Shut up! Shut up, before he caves in my ribs!”
“He didn’t kick you that hard!” Paul glared at Stapleton.
“It didn’t look that hard to me either,” Cisco said.
“Some people don’t have much of a tolerance for punishment.” Quinn’s uncles seemed to be swallowing laughter.
The paramedic gave it up. “We’re taking this young man to the ER of Century City Doctors Hospital.”
“Will he have to be admitted?” I caught Spike’s right hand and carefully turned his arm over. There was a huge, painful-looking bruise in the crook of his elbow. Stapleton obviously had no talent when it came to administering an injection.
“We’ll see what the doc thinks.”
“Paul, go with him. I’ll meet you there after this mess here gets cleaned up.”
“Thanks, Vince.” Paul kissed my cheek and followed the paramedics.
Once they left, I went back to Quinn’s uncles. “Are they going to cause problems?”
“No.” Bryan Sebring examined his fingernails. “I... informed them I work here and I’d take responsibility for what happened.”
“What about cops?”
The corner of his mouth curled in a smug grin. “You’re not the only one with contacts, Mark.”
“Okay, now what the fuck did happen?”
“Your friend can give you the details later, but from what we can ascertain, Prince Charming over there—”
“All I was trying to do was rescue Valentine Duchesne and return him to his family. He needs to come back to Philadelphia! That... that person he’s been living with is nothing more than a hustler!”
Paul had been out of the business for about a year, and unless Stapleton was tossing around epithets, he had to have been keeping Spike under surveillance for at least that long.
“Would Val have made it home alive?” Bryan asked, and I stared at him, dumbfounded. How had he reached that conclusion?
“Are you insinuating... That’s libel!”
“I think the word you’re looking for is slander.”
Stapleton bucked again, trying to get Cisco off his back. He was unsuccessful again, and Cisco hit the back of his head with his curled fist.
“Ow!” Stapleton whined. “You’re going to hear from my lawyer!”
Bryan ignored that threat. Well, he could. From what Quinn had told me, the Sebrings were friendly with the senior partners of one of the most prestigious law firms in DC. “Do you know how I see it, Giles?” He waited until Stapleton craned his head and met his gaze. “You were happy for Valentine to be out of the picture. As a matter of fact, you’ve known where he was these past two years. I imagine you hoped he wouldn’t survive life on the street.”
“That’s ridiculous! Why would I? He’s my fiancée’s brother!”
“Yes, and in spite of the fact that his parents disowned him, his grandfather hadn’t. A portion of Arthur Morens’s fortune is being held in trust for Valentine. It would only go to his sister if he was... deceased.”
How the fuck did he know this?
Although I hadn’t spoken out loud, Bryan grinned at me. “Arthur and I went to Phillips Exeter and remained friendly afterward. As a matter of fact, he was one of my groomsmen when I married. It’s a small world, isn’t it, Giles?”
“That… that’s all supposition! And if Morens had known his grandson was a fag—”
I crossed to where he was still under Cisco and rested my foot on his head, putting just enough pressure on it to get his attention. “If you don’t shut your fucking mouth, I will crush your skull.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh, he’d dare, sunshine.” Cisco twisted Stapleton’s ear, and he yelped again. “You have no idea!”
“Do you want these?” Bryan held up the handcuffs. I could see the metal was stained with blood.
“Yeah. Bastard.”
Bryan raised an eyebrow, and I scowled at him. “You know damn well I wasn’t talking about you.” I removed my foot and approached him, my hand extended.
Cisco got to his feet, and then leaned down and yanked Stapleton to his feet, holding him while I slapped the cuffs on him. “You want him, Vincent?”
“Oh, yeah. You three got to have all the fun earlier. Now it’s my turn.” I shot my cuffs and cracked my knuckles. “You might want to leave.”
“Wait! I have a right to an attorney!”
“Did any of you read him his rights?”
“We’re not cops.” Cisco shrugged. “As he was at such pains to inform us when we first arrived on the scene.”
And when was that? Well, I’d find out later.
“In that case, I guess you don’t get a phone call. You’re all mine, Stapleton.”
“What are you going to do?” Stapleton must have realized the shit he was in was up around his chin, because he suddenly sounded panic-stricken.
“Ah, shit. Cisco, do you have a knife? I don’t have mine on me.”
“I’m disappointed.”
“Eh. Paul needed to be armed.”
“What are you going to do with a knife?”
“You’re a good looking guy.” I ran my gaze over him. “I think I’ll rearrange your looks. Take off your ears, your nose, your lower lip. Maybe your eyelids.”
There was a hissing sound as he pissed himself.
“I can’t let you do that, Vincent.” Tony Sebring approached. For a moment, he sounded so much like Quinn that I almost found myself backing off.
“Thank you, Sebring!” Stapleton was almost in tears. “I knew you wouldn’t let this... this lowlife piece of scum hurt someone like me!”
“Lowlife piece of scum? You’ve hurt my feelings.”
Tony gave a snort of laughter. “Oh, you don’t want to thank me, Giles. You see, this scum is part of my family, and even Stapletons should know how we Sebrings regard family.”
My jaw dropped. After what had happened at Shadow Brook on New Year’s Eve, when I’d almost walked out, taking Quinn with me, I hadn’t thought Quinn’s uncles thought much of me. Sure they appreciated the fact I took down Prinzip to get to their nephew, but me personally….
“Mark, close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.”
I shut my mouth with a snap, feeling a flush run up my cheeks. Was he saying that thing about family to throw the fear of God into Stapleton, or had he really meant it?
“Tell me, Mark. Do you think you can get your friend to press charges?”
“Yeah.” I waited to hear where he was going with this.
“Excellent. From what Stapleton here had to say before you arrived, I’m given to believe his extreme homophobia is actually due to a fear of being at the mercy of another man.”
Stapleton began to look even more uneasy. Maybe he wasn’t completely stupid.
“I believe sending him off to prison, with his pretty face intact, would be a more efficacious punishment.”
“You’ve got a point,” I admitted grudgingly.
“I’m glad you think so. And I’m sure you have a contact who’ll get the word out to the inmate population that Stapleton would welcome their attentions.”
“Yeah. Of course that depends on where he’s sent to.” It would be some facility in California, since the kidnapping had taken place here. I smiled, mentally considering who would be the best for this job.
“You can’t do this to me!”
“Sure I can.” I took out my cell phone, but Bryan put his hand on my arm.
“Why don’t you go see how your friend is doing? We’ll deal with this.”
I looked over the two older men. Bryan was in his seventies, while Tony was over eighty, but they were in good shape. I’d seen that for myself when we’d gone horseback riding on New Year’s Day.
“Just don’t get yourselves hurt. Quinn wouldn’t be happy about that.”
“Cisco will deal with whatever we can’t handle.”
Cisco snorted but didn’t respond to that.
As I walked out, I heard Bryan say, “Tony, would you mind calling your friend in the department?”
“Not in the least, little brother. I want this sorted out. It’s getting late, and you know how testy I get when I miss dinner.”