a theory about who was harassing him?”
“If he did, he didn't share it.” Will admitted, “He was resistant to the idea.”
“Maybe so, but on the surface it sounds like someone was stalking him, all right.”
Old poison, thought Will. “He was stationed in Japan about eight years ago.”
“You believe there's a tie-in?”
Dangerous Ground: Old Poison
75
“Maybe. Not necessarily, though. He's always been interested in Japan. He's studied martial arts. He's got a collection of Japanese weapons.” Will thought about the pistol he'd bought for Taylor's birthday. It was a nice piece, an antique, but three thousand dollars wasn't incentive for abduction or murder. Besides, if someone wanted that pistol, or any of Taylor's collection, they'd have had the perfect opportunity to break into his house while he was staying at Will's. No, this was about Taylor himself.
He added, as they walked toward Taylor's MDX, “He could have pissed someone off at his dojo or when he was hanging around Little Tokyo. He can be…abrasive.”
“How abrasive?”
“I like him,” Will said evenly.
“Plus you have an alibi.” He must have looked unamused. Wray said, “Any chance he was snatched as a means of leverage in a case you're working?”
“We're not working the same case right now. We've been temporarily reassigned.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Will stopped walking. “What are you asking?”
Her eyes were hazel and direct. “I was partnered with a guy for six years. I understand the bond. Is it possible your partner was taken in an attempt to put pressure on you?”
“No.”
“What's the full extent of your relationship with Special Agent MacAllister?”
Funny thing being on this side of a criminal investigation. Will found he didn't like it at all.
“We're partners, and we're best friends.”
“You're both gay.”
Well, he had to give LAPD credit; they had done one hell of a lot of background work in less than four hours.
“That's right.” He looked past her to the crime-scene investigator and asked if there were wrappings from the wine shipping box in the MDX.
Negative from the crime-scene personnel.
Will questioned, “What about a note? Japanese writing on plain white paper?”
Another negative.
76
Josh Lanyon
Wray observed this interchange silently. When Will had finished, she said calmly, “Like I said, I understand the bond between partners, Special Agent Brandt, but this is an LAPD
investigation—at least until the Feds yank it away from us. I'll keep you up-to-date on any developments, but I expect your full cooperation.”
Will nodded tightly.
“And I'm going to have to insist that you leave the investigating to us.”
If Will's nod had been any tighter, his neck would have snapped.
Untroubled, Wray moved forward, pointing to the tire tracks across Will's lawn. “Agent Varga had them boxed in. You can see where they pulled forward and drove across your front yard and out your other neighbor's driveway…”
* * * *
It was hard to breathe. There was more dust than air permeating the hood seal of the trunk, and the combination of exhaust fumes and burned pollen was making him sick. Or maybe that was the taiko drum banging in his skull.
Boom, boom, boom , with every labored beat of his heart.
Something had happened…
He tried to piece together the picture of the last thing he remembered. Had Will been with him? He didn't think so. It was confused…
The car hit another pothole or a dip in the dirt road and slammed down. Nausea rose in Taylor's throat, and he fought it back.
“Will?” he asked the stuffy darkness. But there wasn't enough room for both Will and him in this crowded compartment. There wasn't enough room for him on his own. Woozily, he began to feel around for something he could use as a weapon. But there was nothing. No tire iron, no jack, no handy crowbar or two-by-four.
The car banged down on another dip in the road, and this time the struggle to
“If he did, he didn't share it.” Will admitted, “He was resistant to the idea.”
“Maybe so, but on the surface it sounds like someone was stalking him, all right.”
Old poison, thought Will. “He was stationed in Japan about eight years ago.”
“You believe there's a tie-in?”
Dangerous Ground: Old Poison
75
“Maybe. Not necessarily, though. He's always been interested in Japan. He's studied martial arts. He's got a collection of Japanese weapons.” Will thought about the pistol he'd bought for Taylor's birthday. It was a nice piece, an antique, but three thousand dollars wasn't incentive for abduction or murder. Besides, if someone wanted that pistol, or any of Taylor's collection, they'd have had the perfect opportunity to break into his house while he was staying at Will's. No, this was about Taylor himself.
He added, as they walked toward Taylor's MDX, “He could have pissed someone off at his dojo or when he was hanging around Little Tokyo. He can be…abrasive.”
“How abrasive?”
“I like him,” Will said evenly.
“Plus you have an alibi.” He must have looked unamused. Wray said, “Any chance he was snatched as a means of leverage in a case you're working?”
“We're not working the same case right now. We've been temporarily reassigned.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Will stopped walking. “What are you asking?”
Her eyes were hazel and direct. “I was partnered with a guy for six years. I understand the bond. Is it possible your partner was taken in an attempt to put pressure on you?”
“No.”
“What's the full extent of your relationship with Special Agent MacAllister?”
Funny thing being on this side of a criminal investigation. Will found he didn't like it at all.
“We're partners, and we're best friends.”
“You're both gay.”
Well, he had to give LAPD credit; they had done one hell of a lot of background work in less than four hours.
“That's right.” He looked past her to the crime-scene investigator and asked if there were wrappings from the wine shipping box in the MDX.
Negative from the crime-scene personnel.
Will questioned, “What about a note? Japanese writing on plain white paper?”
Another negative.
76
Josh Lanyon
Wray observed this interchange silently. When Will had finished, she said calmly, “Like I said, I understand the bond between partners, Special Agent Brandt, but this is an LAPD
investigation—at least until the Feds yank it away from us. I'll keep you up-to-date on any developments, but I expect your full cooperation.”
Will nodded tightly.
“And I'm going to have to insist that you leave the investigating to us.”
If Will's nod had been any tighter, his neck would have snapped.
Untroubled, Wray moved forward, pointing to the tire tracks across Will's lawn. “Agent Varga had them boxed in. You can see where they pulled forward and drove across your front yard and out your other neighbor's driveway…”
* * * *
It was hard to breathe. There was more dust than air permeating the hood seal of the trunk, and the combination of exhaust fumes and burned pollen was making him sick. Or maybe that was the taiko drum banging in his skull.
Boom, boom, boom , with every labored beat of his heart.
Something had happened…
He tried to piece together the picture of the last thing he remembered. Had Will been with him? He didn't think so. It was confused…
The car hit another pothole or a dip in the dirt road and slammed down. Nausea rose in Taylor's throat, and he fought it back.
“Will?” he asked the stuffy darkness. But there wasn't enough room for both Will and him in this crowded compartment. There wasn't enough room for him on his own. Woozily, he began to feel around for something he could use as a weapon. But there was nothing. No tire iron, no jack, no handy crowbar or two-by-four.
The car banged down on another dip in the road, and this time the struggle to
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