The Merger – 26

 

"From what I could tell," Mike told Josh via his mic, "either he's a real heavy eater or he bought food for more than himself."

"If we're lucky," Josh replied, "he's heading to where they're keeping the girl."

Nowell made one more stop, at a liquor store, coming out with a six-pack of beer. After that, he drove halfway across the city to an area of older homes, small shops, and warehouses, some of them obviously abandoned. When Nowell entered an alley, Mike doused the lights on his car then drove slowly past it, just in time to see Nowell veer into what looked like a narrow parking lot behind a warehouse. Mike continued on, found a lot a block farther up and parked, telling Josh where he was. Moments later, Josh pulled up beside him.

"I come bearing food," Mike said, getting into Josh's car then handing him the bag. "Before you dig in, let's find a place to watch the warehouse where Nowell ended up."

"Which would be?"

"You drive. I'll show you. At this point we're better off using one car," Mike replied. He directed Josh back to the alley, suggesting they go down it in hopes there would be a place to set-up a stakeout. Luck was with them. What had appeared to be a small lot behind the warehouse turned out to be larger than Mike had thought. "Probably to accommodate delivery trucks," he said, gesturing to the loading dock.

Nowell's car was parked to the right of the dock, beside a door leading into the building. A second car was parked in the corner. Josh backed in beside it, leaving the car idling. He had already doused the headlights before entering the alley. Mike got out, walking around Nowell's car to the side next to the loading dock. Kneeling, he took a folding knife from his pocket, using it to slash the car's rear tire. Then he did the same to the other car before rejoining Josh.

"This makes me wonder if one of the men holding Bethany works here," Josh commented. "It doesn't look abandoned."

"Probably, although, obviously, they haven't let anyone else know they have her here, so the warehouse might belong to Comstock. Then they could tell people they had his permission to use the room where they're hiding her."

"Good point. Okay, now, can we eat?" Josh asked, getting a nod and an amused smile from Mike. They did, while keeping an eye on the warehouse.

"Back door or in through the front?" Mike asked when they finished.

"Back. That's the way he went in." Josh reached over the seat to retrieve his case. Opening it, he took out three Tasers, handing one to Mike. "We use these," he said adamantly. "This is not negotiable."

For a moment, Mike debated arguing with him. Then, he nodded. "As long as you realize I am carrying and will use my gun if it looks like things will go bad."

Mike expected Josh to protest.

Instead, he said, "The chances are, we'll be facing two, maybe three men, at the most. I don't see them having more than that to watch one little girl, who is probably bound and gagged to begin with. If I'm wrong, then I guess having your gun as backup is all right."

It was obvious from his expression that he didn't like the idea, but Mike had to give him points for accepting it might be necessary.

Josh took some tools from the case, putting them in his pockets. He clipped one of the Tasers to his belt, then, before getting out of the car, he took two ski masks and two pairs of latex gloves from the case, handing a set to Mike. They put on the gloves then the masks but didn't pull the masks down…yet. Going to the warehouse door, Josh used a jammer to disable any wireless security within fifty feet of it. Using an electric lock pick, he had the door unlocked moments later. Next, he checked to make certain the alarm box had been disabled, as there was a possibility it was connected to a phone line. It was off.

They found themselves in a small room that was obviously used by warehouse employees to accept deliveries. There were two doors. One was partially ajar. A quick check showed it led to the receiving area behind the loading dock. The second one was closed but not locked. It opened onto a short hallway with three doors along one side. Josh used an electronic eavesdropper to determine that there were people in the third room.

The Merger – 25

 

"Here's what we have so far," Mike said when Josh came into his office half an hour after they had returned to the office. "It's not good."

Josh studied the information Mike had found on Frank Nowell and the building from which he'd placed the call to Osborne. "Who is this Charles Comstock that he works for?"

"A reputed gangster with his fingers in a lot of pies—drugs, prostitution, you name it."

"Reputed?"

"Nothing has ever been proven against him, which doesn't mean a damned thing." Mike rapped his fingers on the desk. "Why the hell would he delve into tiger kidnapping?"

"Obviously to force Osborne to give him access to a great deal of cash, plus whatever's in the safety deposit boxes."

"Maybe…" Mike nodded. "Maybe there's something in one of the boxes that Comstock wants and the rest are just added goodies."

"Possible," Josh agreed. "Not that we'll find out. Our job is to rescue the girl."

"And that means finding Nowell and hoping he leads us to where they're hiding her."

"Finding him will be the easy part," Josh replied, tapping the laptop screen. "This is where he lives."

"Now all he has to do is go home while we're staking it out. Or we can track his movements via his phone."

"That's a no-go. I checked when we got back here. He must have shut it off right after calling Osborne, afraid it could be used to track him if Osborne had gone against his orders and brought in the police. He's probably already dumped it in a trash bin somewhere. The address he was at when he called turned out to be a vacant lot, so it's not where he's got Bethany."

"Well, shit. Okay, let's pay a visit to his apartment building and hope he shows up there." Mike printed out the mug shot he'd found for Nowell then they took off after Josh picked up the carrying case that held his tools from his office.

*****

"Got him," Mike said over the wireless microphone when he saw Frank Nowell leaving the apartment building. He was stationed at the back of the building while Josh watched the front. "He's driving a dark blue, two-door 2012 Honda with a dented rear fender."

"On it," Josh replied.

Mike waited until Nowell started down the driveway to the street before getting into his car, which was parked in the far corner of the lot. He took the alley to the side street, asking Josh which way the man had gone.

"He turned right, toward Parker Avenue. I'm two cars behind him. He's taking another right, onto Parker."

"I'll stay one street over," Mike replied. "We'll switch off in four blocks, unless he turns again before then."

Nowell stayed on Parker Avenue for ten blocks before pulling into a deli parking lot then going inside.

"Of course," Josh grumbled through their communication system. "I'm starving and he gets to eat."

"I'll go in and pick something up for us."

"Mike, don't. I was kidding."

"But I'm not," Mike replied. "I want to see if he's meeting someone. There's no reason for him to know me, but just in case, I've got the ubiquitous baseball cap." He put it on, pulling the bill down to shadow his eyes, then went inside.

The place was busy enough that it took him a moment to locate Nowell at the take-out counter. Mike waited until the man had placed his order and moved to the pick-up line. Then, Mike ordered two pastrami-on-rye sandwiches, figuring they wouldn't take long to make, before going over to one of the cases to study the selection of breads and rolls. He used the case as a mirror to keep his eye on Nowell. When Nowell paid and left, carrying a large bag of food, Mike said quietly into his mic, "Follow him. I'll catch up." His order came up a minute later. He paid then returned to his car in time to see Nowell's vehicle half a block away and Josh pulling out of the lot. 

The Merger – 24

 

Mike returned to the bank with Josh at three thirty, as promised. He had already called to ask Osborne to send his secretary on an errand before they arrived. "The less people who know we're going to be there and talking with you, the better." Osborne had agreed.

Josh set up what was needed to trace and record the kidnapper's call, which came exactly at four.

The kidnapper ordered that, the following night, Osborne was to stay after the bank had closed and all the employees had gone home, and he was not to arm the security. He cautioned Osborne that he knew exactly how many employees worked there and if "he and his friends"—as he put it—didn't see all of them leave, the deal was off. He also reiterated what he'd told Osborne at the beginning of the call—that Osborne was to disable the rest of the bank's security—adding that Osborne was to let him inside through the back door once that was done.

When Josh asked, after the call ended, if there were night security guards, Osborne told him that he preferred to rely on the excellent security system that was in place, as humans were both fallible and possibly open to bribery if the price were right. Nodding, Josh agreed with him.

"Something occurred to me after we talked earlier this afternoon, Mr. Harte," Osborne said. "I'll have to notify the security company that I'm going to turn everything off or they'll send someone to check it out. The problem is, I can't think of any excuse for doing that."

"We'll deal with the problem tomorrow, if necessary," Mike replied. "If things go the way we hope and Josh can trace the call, we should be able to get your daughter back tonight."

"Got it," Josh said, several minutes later. "Name and location, although the latter will change as the man moves around."

"Who is he?" Mike asked.

"One Frank Nowell. The call was made from an address on Juniper Street."

"I don't recognize the name. Do you think that's where he lives…or works?" Osborne asked, his expression lighting with hope. "Or even where he's holding Bethany?"

"That's what we intend to find out," Mike replied as Josh packed up. "I'll be in touch with you as soon as we know anything." He nodded when Josh made a writing sign with one finger. "One more thing, which I should have done the first time I was here, Mr. Osborne." He took a contract and an information form from his bag, setting them on Osborne's desk. Osborne read them over, filled in the pertinent information on both forms, then signed. Lastly, he wrote out a check for the retainer, handing it to Mike.

"We'll be in touch," Mike told Osborne, putting the forms and the check into his bag. "With any luck at all, we'll have your daughter back to you before the night is over."

The Merger – 23

 

"Mr. Harte," Rupert Osborne said, standing as soon as his secretary had ushered Mike into his office then retreated, closing the door behind her. He appeared to be both distraught and afraid.

Mike shook Osborne's proffered hand before taking a seat across the large oak desk from him. He set his bag on the floor by his feet, looking inquiringly at Osborne.

"Sometime between eight forty five and nine this morning, as my daughter was on her way to school, she was kidnapped," Osborne began without preamble. "At nine fifteen, my wife received a call from Bethany's school, asking if she was sick as she wasn't in class. My wife panicked, of course, and immediately called me. I was trying to calm her down when I received another call on my personal phone from an unlisted number. A man told me he had Bethany and would be in touch with me again to arrange the terms of her release. He warned me I was not to go to the police or to act any differently than normal if I didn't want her dead body dropped on my doorstep."

"I presume he got in touch again," Mike said.

Osborne nodded. "The first thing I did after telling my wife about the call was to convince her to let the school know that Bethany had shown up at home, just after the school had called her, saying she wasn't feeling well." Osborne clenched his hands together. "Twenty minutes later, I received a second call from the kidnapper."

"What does he want in exchange for her release?"

"Access to the bank's vault and the safety deposit boxes tomorrow night—after we're closed and I've disarmed all the security."

"A tiger kidnapping," Mike said. When Osborne asked what he meant, he explained it was a type of kidnapping where a family member is taken with the promise they'd be returned, unharmed, when the individual did something for the kidnapper—in Osborne's case giving him access to what the man wanted in the bank. "I presume, as the president, you can do that."

"I can," Osborne replied succinctly. "Of course, I have no way to open the safety deposit boxes themselves without the owners' keys. In the event an owner loses their key, the bank has to drill the lock in order for them to access the box."

"Which the kidnapper and his associates undoubtedly plan to do. Did he say why tomorrow night rather than tonight?" Mike asked. "It seems to me the less time he has to keep your daughter hidden somewhere, the better for him."

"He didn't say. I can only presume he knows, or suspects, that there will be a larger amount of cash in the vault than normal tomorrow night because Thursday is the middle of the month. That's when many companies pay their employees, who will then either cash their checks or deposit them but take some cash as well."

Mike nodded. "He also might have taken your daughter today to up your tension so that you will do exactly as he asks. I presume he wants you to disable all the security on the premises before he and his associates arrive and while they're here."

"He didn't say so, specifically. He only said he would be in touch again this afternoon at four with the details of what I'm to do."

"Obviously, you haven't contacted the police since I'm here. May I ask why you want to hire me, rather than using whoever handles security for the bank?"

"A friend of mine used your services about six months ago and had nothing but praise for your abilities. He said you took a very personal interest in solving his problem, which is what I want. Personal and, obviously, without letting anyone else know that you are working for me."

"I try my best to do that with all my clients," Mike replied with a brief smile. He checked the time then said. "It's two o'clock. He told you he'd call you at four and you said that his phone number showed up as unlisted."

"Actually, as Unknown."

"All right. Any number can be tracked with the right equipment, which my partner has. With your permission, I want to bring him in on this."

"That's fine with me."

"Thank you. We'll be back at three thirty so he can set up whatever he needs to locate where the call is coming from and who owns the phone. Once we know that, we're one step closer to finding your daughter."

The Merger – 22

 

"Mike," Rosie said from the doorway to his office. It was almost one, Tuesday afternoon and he'd just returned from lunch. "You have a call on line one. A Mr. Osborne."

"Did he say what he wanted?"

"No. Just that it was urgent."

"Okay. Thanks." He picked up the office phone, saying, "Michael Harte here. How may I help you?"

"Mr. Harte. My name is Rupert Osborne. I don't know if you've heard of me."

Mike thought for a moment then replied, "Unless I'm mistaken, you are the president and CEO of Osborne Bank and Trust."

"I am." Osborne went silent, then said rather stiffly, as if it pained him, "I need your help."

"With what?"

"I'd rather not say over the phone."

"I can have my secretary make an appointment for you, Mr. Osborne."

"I'd prefer not to come to your offices. Would it be possible for you to come to the bank?"

His interest piqued, Mike replied, "I'd be willing to do that. I can be there by one thirty, if that works for you."

"It does. I'll tell my secretary to let me know the moment you arrive. The address is twenty-three Wilcox."

"All right. I'll see you soon." Mike hung up and immediately ran a search on Rupert Osborne. The man was in his mid-forties and had married his wife Linda ten years previously. They had one child, a seven-year-old daughter named Bethany. He came from money, his father having owned a prestigious manufacturing firm prior to his untimely death from cancer. Rupert had inherited the firm and immediately sold it, adding to his already-large fortune. From all accounts—and there were more than a few news stories about him—Osborne was a loving husband and father and a supporter of several charities, with no breath of scandal attached to his name.

So what's going on that he needs my help? I'm hardly in his class, socially or in terms of the agency. God only knows there are several large, well-staffed ones he could have called to help solve whatever his problem is.

Mike checked the time then put his computer to sleep before going into the waiting room to tell Rosie he'd be back. "Hopefully by three, since I've got an appointment with Mr. Daniels at three fifteen. If I'm not here, Josh should have returned from the job he's doing. Ask him to handle it, please."

The Merger – 21

 

"Someday," Mike said, panting as he collapsed on one of the benches along the canal's bike path.

"You'll beat me?" Josh grinned, dropping down beside him.

"You bet. Maybe not next Sunday or the one after, but someday."

"Then we stop running?" Josh asked.

"Hell, no. I like doing this, even if you are better than me."

"Ah-ha. You admit it."

Mike laughed, giving him a sweaty hug. "I think you proved it." Leaning back, he watched a middle-aged couple jogging their way. "Now them I could beat hands down."

Josh arched an eyebrow. "Maybe in the short haul, but I happen to know they run half-marathons and do quite well."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. They have the stamina it takes to do them. You, my man, are more of a short-distance runner."

"If I keep hanging out with you, I'll improve."

"That's the plan."

Mike cocked his head. "You have a plan?"

"Of course. To develop your stamina. You're going to need it to keep up with me when the time comes." Josh winked, jumped to his feet and started down the path, heading back the way they'd come.

He didn't mean that the way it sounded. Mike chuckled to himself as he took off after Josh. Of course he did and I have no problem with that.

When they got back to their cars, Mike said, "I'm starving. Want to stop for lunch somewhere?"

"Nope. We're eating here." Josh popped the trunk of his car, taking out a picnic basket. "It's too beautiful outside to spend the rest of the morning in some crowded restaurant, so I planned ahead." He carried the basket to a nearby picnic table. Opening it, he said, "We have blueberry muffins, breakfast burritos with potatoes, scrambled eggs, and cheese"—he took out a thermos—"orange juice and coffee." He held up another thermos.

"You even remembered plates and cups," Mike commented, taking them out of the basket. "No silverware?"

Josh handed him a foil-wrapped burrito. "For what?"

"Okay, I rescind the question," Mike replied when he realized everything was finger-food. "This is good," he said after taking a bite of the burrito.

Josh grinned. "Of course. I made it. There's hot sauce if you want it," he added, liberally dousing his burrito with some before handing the bottle to Mike.

Mike put a couple of drops on what he was eating, took a bite, and quickly took a gulp of his juice before looking at the bottle's label. "Habanero? Damn. Warn a guy."

"Wuss," Josh replied. "I could have gotten some made with ghost chilies."

"Shit, no. I've heard about them. I like my lips and tongue the way they are, thanks. Not burned to a crisp."

Josh looked at him, smiling. "I like them the way they are, too."

"Mr. Aston, are you coming on to me in a public park?"

"Nope. Just stating a fact. If I was coming on to you, I'd do this." Josh glanced around then kissed Mike.

For a moment, Mike savored the kiss. Then he pulled back, sucking in a breath. "You forgot you've been eating hot sauce," he said, taking another drink of orange juice.

Josh grinned. "Maybe I'm just a hot kisser."

"That goes without saying, in both ways. However, next time—"

"I dispense with the hot sauce?"

"Please?"

They laughed then went back to eating their picnic breakfast. When they'd finished, Josh obviously realized they hadn't touched the coffee, so he poured them each a cup.

Mike leaned back against the table, a feeling of contentment washing over him as he sipped his. "I could get used to this," he said.

"Relaxing on a Sunday morning?"

"I'm not sure we did that much relaxing, given the fact we ran for a good half hour, but yeah…spending the morning outdoors with sun, a nice breeze, and great scenery." He looked at Josh and winked. "Very great scenery."

Josh rolled his eyes. "You did not just go there."

"Did," Mike replied, moving closer to put one arm around Josh's shoulders. "We need to make this a regular thing."

"Of course. At least until it starts snowing."

"Which, thank God, won't happen for another four months, if we're lucky." Mike thought about asking what Josh had planned for the afternoon then decided not to push his luck. This whole being together thing is new for both of us. If we overdo it too soon… He smiled to himself. It's sort of like a box of candy. Eat the whole thing in a day and you get sick of it. Eat just a couple of pieces a day and you look forward to the next day and the next—then the next box.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before Josh said, "I suppose we'd better get moving. I've got clothes to wash. I'm sure you've got chores that need doing, as well."

"Unfortunately, yes."

They gathered everything up, Josh packing the basket while Mike took the trash to one of the refuse containers. When they got to Josh's car, Mike put his hands on Josh's shoulders. Kissing him, he said, "I had fun."

"Me, too. Right now I wish it was next Sunday—or Friday, if we want to do something again Friday night."

"We do," Mike said emphatically, earning a bright smile from Josh. "We'll figure out what sometime this week. For now, though, I'll see you in the morning."

"Bright and early," Josh replied with a grin.

"Yeah, yeah. At nine, when we open." Mike gave and got back a kiss before he walked to his car. He waved when Josh drove past him, got in then headed home.

The Merger – 20

 

Feeling elated, Josh leaned back in Mike's arms. Afraid he was grinning like a fool, and not caring, he teased, "Nope. I kiss all my dance partners like that."

Mike obviously got that he was kidding, swatting Josh's ass as he replied, "Why don't I believe you?"

"Because it's not true?" Josh kissed him quickly. "And to reply to your question, yes, I do like you. I think you feel the same." He stared into Mike's eyes. "At least I hope you do."

"I believe that's a rhetorical question—now." Mike shook his head. "There goes our never-get-involved-with-someone-you-work-with policy."

Josh sobered. "I know. It can make things tough if it doesn't work out." He smiled, then. "Still, it's worth finding out if it can, isn't it?"

"You better believe it."

They kissed again, quickly since the music changed to something fast and pounding. They went with it, rocking the beat, bodies pressed tightly together.

"We'd better go sit down," Mike said breathlessly, halfway through the dance.

"Do not tell me you're getting tired, already."

"Nope. I just need to…to hydrate?"

Josh had been so wrapped up in the music and being held by Mike—and the memory of their kisses—that it took him a second to realize what the real problem was. As they broke apart, he glanced down and smiled to himself. There was a definite bulge in Mike's jeans, matched by a slightly lesser one in his own.

"Yeah, hydrating would be a good idea," Josh replied. "It'll give us a chance to cool down." Which we'd both better do before we embarrass ourselves. By the time they'd made their way back to the table, their problems had subsided. But not my emotions. Damn. I knew I was interested in him, but now…

Mike picked up his bottle, set it down and waved to the waiter. When the man arrived, Mike ordered fresh drinks. Josh understood why, and was impressed by his caution. When his beer arrived, Mike took a long pull then tapped it to Josh's. "To us?"

"To us," Josh replied, hoping Mike could hear him above the noise. He must have, because he leaned over to kiss him.

They danced some more before the evening ended, sharing a few more kisses in the process. Then, tired but happy, they decided it was time to call it a night. Once again, after leaving the bar, Mike offered to give Josh a ride home—and Josh declined.

"What are you hiding from me," Mike asked with mock seriousness. "You don't really have a home? Or you're living in sin with three other men?"

Josh laughed. "Not even. I like walking, but… Sure, I'll take a lift. All three blocks. Then you can see that I really do have an apartment."

Mike grinned. "I honestly never doubted it."

Five minutes later they pulled up in front of Josh's apartment building. "See?" he said, pointing to a window on the third floor. "That's mine."

"Nice building."

"Older, but classy," Josh replied.

"Like you," Mike teased.

Josh snorted. "I'm younger than you."

"By two years." Mike looked at him for a long moment before leaning across the console with a grumbled "I hate these things" to kiss him. The kiss deepened before they broke apart. "I should let you go," Mike said. "You have to be up at the crack of dawn."

It took Josh a second to realize what he meant. "Yep. If I miss escorting my client to the bank, it would probably be the one time someone decided to rob him." He opened the door to get out. "I'll see you Sunday morning?"

"Yep. Same place?"

"That works for me."

Mike grinned. "And this time, I'm going to win if we race."

Laughing, Josh replied, "As if," before walking up the path to the front door of his apartment building. He turned to wave at Mike. Mike waved back before driving away.

He does like me. And I like him. Now to see if that continues. If not… Josh unlocked the door. Stop being a naysayer, he chastised himself. It will work. It might take time, but I think it's what we both want. I know it's what I want.

The Merger – 19

 

Josh's pulse quickened as he turned the corner and saw Mike waiting in front of the bar. He waved when Mike did, and was tempted to give him a hug as soon as he was close enough—but didn't. Too…intimate. The only time he's hugged me was after I told him about Bobby, and that was just out of compassion.

"You're dressed for dancing," Josh said, eyeing the blue tank top Mike was wearing under an open light blue shirt.

"I am?" Mike replied, looking surprised.

"Yep. When you get hot and sweaty, you can legitimately get rid of the shirt and show off… Okay, that was stupid."

Mike chuckled as he opened the door so they could enter the bar. "You're nervous. Why?"

"I'm not," Josh protested. "Okay. Maybe a bit. This seems a little too much like a date, if that makes sense."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I suppose." Josh paused, looked up at Mike, saw the twinkle in his eye then revised his statement. "Not a damned thing."

"Exactly." Putting an arm around Josh's waist, Mike headed toward a small table close to the dance floor.

As soon as they were seated, a waiter hurried over to take their orders. Thankfully, as far as Josh was concerned, the band was between numbers at the moment so he didn't have to shout that he wanted a non-alcoholic beer. Mike ordered a regular one and the waiter left, just as the band started up again.

Mike put his elbows on the table, leaning in to say, "This is going to make conversation iffy, at best."

"What? Huh?" Josh cupped his hand to his ear, his mouth quirking up in a grin.

"Smart ass. Are we going to go running again? Like this Sunday?"

"Sure, since we both have the weekend free, for the first time in forever."

"I know." Mike rolled his eyes. "Not that I'm complaining—much."

"Being so busy does keep us off the streets and out of the bars," Josh replied, trying not to laugh.

"That I am complaining about."

The waiter returned with their drinks. Josh paid, overriding Mike's protest by saying, "You can get the next round."

They went silent for a moment, sipping their drinks. Then Mike said, "We came here to dance." He stood, holding out his hand, which Josh took when he got up. Then they made their way onto the crowded dance floor.

The music was loud and fast, making conversation virtually impossible. Mike put his hands on Josh's hips, moving to the beat. Josh did the same, his hands on Mike's shoulders as they danced in place. Then Mike spun them around once, then again, laughing when Josh gasped at the unexpected movement.

"I'd dip you," Mike said, "but you'd end up hitting the couple next to us."

"Or the floor."

"Naw. I wouldn't let that happen." Mike spun them one more time, just as the song ended and a slow one began. He wrapped his arms around Josh, pulling him against his body. "Now this is more like it," he murmured.

"Don't like fast dancing?" Josh asked, putting his arms around Mike's neck.

"It's fine for openers, but this…" Mike smiled as he gazed at Josh. "It's more intimate."

Almost too intimate. Josh smiled back. Is he… Is that what he wants? Is it what I want? He knew the answer to his last question. He did. Not 'let's jump into bed' intimacy, but definitely something more than the friendship they already had. His gaze moved from Mike's eyes to his mouth. Do I dare?

Josh didn't have to make that decision. Mike made it for him when he brushed a kiss over his lips, followed by a second, firmer one. As suddenly as he'd done it, Mike pulled back, asking, "Am I moving too fast?"

Tongue-tied, Josh shook his head. He moved one hand up to cup the back of Mike's head and returned the kiss. It wasn't intense but it definitely conveyed the message, Josh hoped, that he was ready to move on from mere friendship to something more. He decided he'd succeeded when Mike whispered against his lips, "You do like me."

The Merger – 18

By the end of the week, Mike had found the proof he needed that pointed to one of Mr. Allen's employees as the thief and passed the information on to him.

"It's kind of sad," Mike said when he told Josh the results of his investigation. "Not that it excuses the theft, but the poor guy is swimming in debt because his wife had just given birth to their first child and they only had the bare minimum of insurance, which didn't come close to paying the hospital bills. Apparently, he decided that taking the rings then pawning them would help. At least, that's my conclusion. Hopefully, rather than calling the police, Mr. Allen will take my advice and talk to the fellow so they can come up with some sort of repayment plan, since the theft wasn't done out of pure greed."

"Let's hope so."

They both moved on to what was next on their agendas for the day, which in Mike's case were the too-often-requested background checks for regular clients—in this case, a woman who was opening a new branch of her business within the month.

"I need to have my head examined," Mike grumbled when Josh came into his office just before closing time. "Or my eyes." He rubbed them then shut down his computer before looking up at Josh. "What are you doing tonight?"

Josh shrugged. "Nothing planned. Why?"

"Something like three weeks ago, I think, you suggested we should try dancing the next time we went to Thirty-One Twelve. Right now I'm ready to do anything that does not involve staring at a computer screen."

"Even taking to the dance floor with me?" Josh asked, grinning.

"Even that." Mike winked. "I don't think it'll be much of a hardship.

"We'll find out. I'll meet you there around eight?"

"Sounds good. I'll see you then." Mike waited for Josh and Rosie to leave before he activated the security system, locked up, and headed home to shower and eat supper.

He was glad Josh had agreed with his idea. They hadn't spent any personal time together since Josh's revelation about his brother. In part, it was because Josh had been pulled into a job the first weekend after that, as one of the bodyguards for a political candidate, who was doubling down on campaigning—the result of an upcoming special election. The election had been called for because the incumbent was retiring for health reasons, creating an unexpected vacancy.

The second weekend, Josh had been working again as a bodyguard for the candidate, and Mike had been on a stakeout. He'd been hired to find out where a client's teenage son had been spending his time when he'd claimed to be at the fast-food place where he worked—or had worked, as it had turned out. The client had discovered his son had been let go and hadn't bothered to tell him. After following the young man for two nights, Mike was able to report to his father that his son had found another job.

"Why the hell didn't he tell me?" the client asked.

"Best guess? He didn't think you'd approve of him working as a parking lot attendant in one of the rougher areas of the city and was afraid you'd be upset that he'd lost the other job."

"He's right," the man blustered. "He's better than that." He sighed. "I'll have a talk with him. Maybe we can find him something a bit safer."

Mike was tempted to tell him not to fly off the handle with the kid when they talked but knew it wasn't his place to say so.

Finally, we both have a relatively free weekend. Mike definitely liked the idea. The more he saw of Josh, even though it was only at work, the more he was attracted to him. Not that he'd said anything—so far. Maybe, tonight? I guess I could—if I think he might have any interest in me beyond friendship. 

When he arrived at Thirty-One Twelve just before eight, he saw Josh come around the corner from the side street. Mike waved, getting a wave in return, and smiled when Josh joined him.