A Matter Of Necessity Read online

  "Agent down! I have an agent down in the empty lot beside 3246 Marcham. Repeat, I have shots fired and an agent down." He dropped the phone and gathered up his lover. "Shawn!" His fingers, already covered in red pressed to the other man's carotid artery. "No. No. Oh, God, no!" His cry rent the preternatural quiet that reigned in the aftermath of the explosive clatter of death. He held Shawn's limp body tightly and rocked in grief and misery.

  "And cut!" David grinned as he held a cell phone aloft. Terri did the same with hers. "All nicely recorded and ready to send. Great performance, guys."

  Shawn opened his eyes and grinned before grabbing Alex's face and delivering a blistering kiss.

  "Aw, guys, come on, please! Have a heart." David's protest accompanied a grin as big as Shawn's.

  The Australian took a few moments longer before he released Alex and beamed. He tapped Alex on the tip of the nose. "You have fake blood right there, pet."

  Crap! Alex dug for a handkerchief with one hand, still supporting Shawn with the other arm. "That stuff stains you know!" He scrubbed at his face.

  "Give me that." Shawn took the square of fine white cotton and dabbed gently at Alex's face, the cloth soft against his skin. "You're just spreading it around, love."

  "Okay, for the record, that would be sickening even if one of you was a girl. Cut it out." But David still grinned.

  Alex laughed and beamed at Shawn. "Come on, we don't want David throwing up on his new shoes." He surveyed the footware in question. "On second thought, that might be an improvement."

  David frowned and stared down at his loafers. "What's wrong with my shoes?"

  "Score!" Shawn laughed and rose to his feet. "You made him look." He winked and held out his hand to Alex, his clasp strong and sure and so precious as he pulled Alex up. "But you're right. Those are grim, mate."

  "Oh, right. And I'm supposed to take criticism from two guys who look like they just stepped out of Saw III?"

  Terri giggled and ducked her head, bright eyes glittering at them.

  Alex looked down to find his electric blue shirt covered in red goop. "My shirt!"

  "I told you to wear black, babe." Shawn was stripping his own jacket and shirt, fingering the special effects vest underneath.

  "You also told me to wear blue because it would make my eyes look better." Alex accompanied the grouse with a scowl.

  "Oh, and it does, beautiful, it does." Shawn ran a finger still coated in fake gore over Alex's cobalt-covered pec. "Makes me want to beg you to push me up against a wall and..."

  "Argh!" David clapped his hands over his ears. "Terri, cover your eyes. You're too young to hear this."

  Shawn threw his head back and laughed. "Mate, you're just too easy a target. What's the score so far, love?

  Alex wanted to kiss him into oblivion. "Us three, David zero."

  David rolled his eyes. "We should never have let them get together." He sighed. "If the Marx brothers are through, let's get this phone to Luis. He can set up our payment for offing Shawn. You two get cleaned up before someone in the public sees you. We'll finish up the set up."

  "Yeah, the ambulance should be here any minute. We'll make it look really good for anybody who might be asking around later." Shawn maintained his grin for his team leader and winked at Alex, pure devilment sparkling from his eyes. "Want to join me on that stretcher, babe? I figure it's twenty or thirty minutes to the morgue."

  David groaned. "I should have let them use real bullets."

  * * * *

  Alex watched Shawn pace the length of the small conference room the police had leant them as a command center. "How much longer?"

  "Ronnecker's lawyer is introducing David now. Just settle down." Alex wasn't nearly as calm as he sounded. His insides were jiggling as much as Shawn's foot did when the other man dropped down into a chair.

  Terri glanced up from her control station. "I think that goes for both of you."

  Alex answered her with a rueful twist of his lips. "I'm not as bad as he is."

  "Right. You've straightened your tie four times in the last five minutes."

  He snatched his hand away from the offending article of clothing.

  "Shh. Looks like we're moving past the meet and greet."

  Alex marveled at her calm. This whole undertaking stood on shaky ground and he wasn't sure how David managed to get everyone necessary to sanction it. Normally all sorts of client-attorney privilege regulations would apply, but apparently the unit lead had circumnavigated it all with the skills of a clipper ship captain. Placing the focus of the investigation on Ronnecker's lawyer could only be labeled genius. Martin C. Wilkins, Esquire, was suspected of soliciting the murder of a federal agent. Something the Bureau and the courts took very seriously. Ronnecker's name never even appeared on the plethora of warrants and approvals for surveillance David had obtained. "This better work. What if someone decides this is all illegal."

  "Stop worrying, love. David must have gotten official sanction and blessing for every move we make, including taking a piss. I've never seen that much paperwork in my life. It'll be fine."

  "Right. That's why you're jiggling like Terri on a Starbucks triple shot frappachio overdose."

  "I don't jiggle!" Terri adjusted the sound. "It's more of a bounce."

  "Yeah, you're a regular Tigger. T-I-double-grr-er, emphasis on the Grrrr." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  Terri's jaw dropped and she stared at Alex. "What did you do to him?"

  "Me!" Oh, of course, just as he suspected. Everyone considered any failing of Shawn's to be his fault. "I didn't..."

  "And could you do to some of the other guys at the office?"

  "What?" This time it was Alex jaw that slackened.

  "Except for the 'only really interested in you any more' part. Can we skip that? I'll put together a list."

  "She got you, babe!" Shawn laughed. "And I second the codicil about only wanting you. I'm a jealous man, you know."

  Alex favored them both with looks intended only to maim not kill. "Could we possibly focus on David?"

  "I am, love. All this other is just the edges of my attention."

  Alex didn't doubt that. He settled back, properly chastised. Of course Shawn wasn't really paying attention to anything but the drama unfolding in the visitor's room of the jail. None of them were exactly sure how it would play out.

  A lot of possible scenarios had been proposed, but this might be the one that offered the best of all worlds. Ronnecker not only wanted video of the hit, but wanted to meet the man responsible, operating under the logic that the shooter couldn't squeal if Ronnecker could ID him.

  Luis's idea of recording the staged hit on a cell phone, "because that's what all the hip hit men do these days," proved invaluable. While there were all sorts of things even a lawyer couldn't bring into the room with a prisoner for a conference, cell phones weren't on Ronnecker's forbidden list. Yet.

  "Here it comes." Terri sat up a little straighter in her chair.

  Assured the guard was outside the door and that door firmly closed, David let the brief reel of Shawn's carefully faked death play out. The equally contrived news article, buried rather disappointingly on page five of the A section of the Post reporting the drive-by shooting death of an unnamed FBI agent was presented. The normal "pending notification of family" excuse explained the lack of a name. And a drive-by shooting in that neighborhood supplied both the lack of greater exposure and the scarcity of outcry over the death of an agent.

  "God, look at his face. He's loving every minute of it." Shawn's lip curled in disgust and rage.

  "Let him. It's going to be short-lived." Never the less, Alex clenched his fists against the patent enjoyment on Ronnecker's face. He could barely hear his own cry of loss coming from the iPhone. He shuddered. He'd hidden it well so even Shawn didn't know how deeply the counterfeit death had affected him. Only the feel of Shawn's steady pulse under his fingers and the faint feel of his lover's breathing as he held the supposedly dead body close
kept him from insanity. The cry Ronnecker so enjoyed wasn't faked. It was the result of the mere imagined loss of Shawn.

  "Oh, that's beautiful. I've never seen either of those two look better." Ronnecker's comment earned a vile curse from Shawn and a further tightening of Alex's fists. God, he wished his hands were wrapped around Ronnecker's throat. "Mr. Smith, your work is lovely. Just what I wanted."

  "Got him." Terri burst into a rather evil-edged smile.

  "We still need the payment." Alex urged his fists to unclench.

  "Glad you enjoyed it." For once David sounded as smooth as Alex could wish. "I believe it's good enough for your original offer and the bonus."

  "It is. Everything I could wish for. Except it was too quick. I'd love to see that lanky white asshole beg for his lover's life. God, that would have been good."

  Alex's insides knotted at the thought and rage made it difficult to see.

  "Sorry. Those weren't in your specifications for the hit or I might have been able to arrange it." David's shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. "Or maybe not. It wasn't easy following those two or catching them in a place where my associates could kill the one while we got your proof." David laughed. "You lay out some tough parameters for a killing, Mr. Ronnecker."

  "Maybe. But you met them well. Wilkins will see you're paid for an excellent job."

  "Thanks. They were both really paranoid. Really hard to follow. I heard there was an earlier hit gone bad."

  "Now that's my boy!" Shawn was all approval.

  "Yes. Apparently my associate isn't as efficient as yours and his aim is a lot worse."

  "Missed the guy we offed, didn't he? I hope you docked his pay."

  "Oh, I did."

  "Yes! David, mate, you are the man."

  For once, Alex was in complete agreement. "Bravo, David."

  "Can't wait to rub that one in Grey's face."

  "By all means, dearest." Alex sank into a chair as David shook hands with Ronnecker and accepted a fond farewell. Over. Finally over.

  "Looks like the party's breaking up."

  "And it looks like we can start ours." Shawn rose, all lithe grace. It warmed Alex just to watch him move. Alive. Safe. For the moment. "Let's get this written up all pretty for the AUSA and get Grey off Alex's case for good."

  "I'm all for that." Terri shut down her equipment after a few moments of video and sound of the empty room. "It's about time you don't have to worry about walking down the street any more."

  It was indeed.

  * * * *

  Alex settled into the same chair David had occupied just a week earlier. A week. Long enough for the Powers That Be to decide to arrest Wilkins and bring additional charges against Ronnecker. Enough for the lawyer to start talking about anything he could in hopes of a plea deal.

  A nod to the guard and the man released his hold on Ronnecker's arm and removed himself from the room, closing the door behind him.

  "What do you want?" The arms dealer glared.

  Alex discovered he'd never really hated anyone quite this much. He thought he hated the snitch who nearly got him killed on a raid early in his career, but that was nothing compared to this level of sheer abhorrence. But at least the bastard asked the right question. "Shawn Matthews. Alive. In my bed."

  Ronnecker curled his lip. "Good luck with that."

  "Yes. And I've always been a man who believes in making his own luck. That's why I'm here." He draped his elbow over the back of his chair. "I mean, look at us." He gestured with one hand and Ronnecker looked confused. "Alone, just the two of us in a room with me free and you manacled. Such an opportunity for so many things." Alex stretched and rose. "You know, if anything happened to Shawn, I really doubt I'd care what happened to me in the long run. Though I'm sure I'd be a very sympathetic figure, a man deeply in love, driven to who knows what by the loss of his life's mate. I'd probably get nothing more than psychiatric care."

  "What the hell are you talking about?" Even so Alex recognized the fear beginning to travel through those nondescript eyes.

  "Just speculating. Of course, none of that will every come to pass as long as Shawn's safe." Alex patted Ronnecker's cheek and the other man jerked infinitesimally. It was enough. "And don't bother complaining about my visit." He moved past the prisoner. "I was never here and you never left your cell."

  "You can't do this."

  Alex whirled back, reaching out to wrap his hand about Ronnecker's throat. "I can do anything I set my mind to." His voice went low and satin smooth. "I thrived in your world, but I doubt you can do the same in mine. Especially if I decide you shouldn't." He moved close enough to whisper in the man's ear. "You might want to make sure I always have a reason to care if I walk the street a free man or not." He took his time releasing his hold on Ronnecker, eyes firmly connected to the arms dealers'.

  Hand finally free, he wiped it clean on Ronnecker's jumpsuit front before strolling from the room.

  Message delivered.

  Epilogue

  * * *

  Alex managed to control his grin as Shawn stared at the two dozen red roses being held out to him.

  "What are you up to, love?"

  "Well, I know how much you like public proof of my affection." Alex settled on the edge of Shawn's desk, crossing one ankle over the other as the Aussie finally took the flowers. Turn about was fair play after all. Shawn had seen to it that nearly every critical event in their romance played out in public, why should this be any exception?

  Bright blue eyes swung from him to the roses and back before Shawn fished out the white envelope resting in the mass of flowers. Already their teammates were beginning to slowly converge. Shawn opened it with obvious trepidation that turned to rapid confusion. "These are plane tickets to Boston."

  Alex nodded. "I'm always in awe of your deductive skills."

  That earned him a look that promised payback at some point. He merely smiled in answer.

  "What? You're taking me to meet your parents."

  "God, no! I like you too much to do such a thing to you. But I do think a long weekend might be in order. Particularly if you'll agree to wear this." He held out his FBI Academy ring. "You just don't strike me as a diamond solitaire sort of man."

  Shawn just stared, at a loss for change. He really was adorable when confusion sat so firmly on his handsome face.

  "Now, really, darling. Do you want me to get down on one knee? I thought that might make you seem just a bit too feminine." He let the teasing slip away. "Come to Boston with me, Shawn. A nice long weekend until I can arrange a proper honeymoon."

  "Honeymoon..." It was more gasp than actual words.

  "Marry me." Not a question. Not after all they'd been through. And well past time Alex took some control back over his life. He took Shawn's left hand and slipped his ring onto the proper finger. "Wear that until I put a wedding band on you."

  The roses scattered over the floor when he welded his mouth to Shawn's and took what he wanted.

  T. D. McKinney

  T. D. McKinney was probably born with eclectic tastes. Growing up on the American Gulf Coast, she gained a great appreciation for all things Southern and a fascination with what the community around her termed the "War of Northern Aggression." Frequent trips to New Orleans to visit relatives instilled an early love for that city and for the Cajun culture; one of her earliest memories is viewing Mardi Gras parades when she was three years old. She freely admits that at the tender age of six she fell in love with both Barnabus Collins of Dark Shadows' fame and Jonny Quest's scientist-father, Benton Quest. Sherlock Holmes followed soon after as one of the great abiding interests of her life.

  These early influences doubtless explain a great deal about the author and her writings. There is very little she doesn't find interesting, whether it's art, music, history, vampires, web design, or forensic science. Everything is there to be explored, investigated, and attempted at least once. This trait often carries over into her writing. She loves exploring characters that
are not afraid to take a risk or step outside the constraints of society or family. And if the character doesn't want to take that chance, she likes creating situations that require they do so.

  Her two freshman offerings from Amber Quill Press perfectly express her eclectic nature. Dancing In The Dark is a dark romantic fantasy combining her love and life-long study of vampires with the hard reality of criminal profiling. My Secret Yankee (co-authored with Aimée Masion) is an American Civil War historical romance set in Union-occupied New Orleans that explores cultural and class differences and what happens when people from different worlds collide.

  T. D. lives in the Dallas-Fort Worth area of north Texas with her husband and young daughter. Artist, author, career woman, web designer, mother, and wife, she manages to keep busy. In her spare time, she shares her husband's interest in collecting swords, vampires, the internet, science fiction, and all things Japanese.

  You can email T. D. at [email protected] or visit her website at www.tdmckinney.com.

  * * * *

  Don't miss Under A Confederate Moon, by J. M. Snyder,

  available at Amber-Allure.com!

  The year is 1863. Caleb Chilson is a private in the Confederate Army, currently camped in the Virginian woods. Most of his time is spent on picket duty, on the lookout for a Yankee attack. But when the moon is full, he manages to slip away from the encampment and into the woods to become something a little less than human...

  Bitten as a teen, Caleb now suffers through a painful transformation from human to bobcat a few days each month. As a bobcat, he leaves behind his camp and fellow soldiers to explore the night. But a gunshot and the bright scent of fresh blood draws him to a clearing where he learns that he isn't the only one of his kind.

  Wounded and hurt, Brance is a loner by nature, gruff and grumbling, who doesn't want anything to do with Caleb...at first. The younger bobcat prevails, and starts to win Brance over, until they turn human again and find themselves on opposite sides of the American Civil War.