Inland Empire by James Buchanan

Author:James Buchanan
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: M/M Suspense, Source: Amazon
ISBN: 9781608200160
Publisher: MLR Press
Published: 2009-05-01T00:00:00+00:00

“First off, no!” Nick glared. “I was hoping like hell to get them back. Not only are these issues out of print, the publisher shut down the mag because of some obscenity laws that came down. I’m not about to loose these.” He snorted and looked off toward the highway. “And then, Jesus, it’s not like anyone is going to know.”

“But what if word gets back?” Brandon gulped the words.

Nick grabbed the tool box and tossed it on top of the other bags. “Okay, Los Angeles impound to Riverside PD... not going to happen.”

“It could.” Brandon shook. Not much, but Nick could see it. “Cops talk to each other.”

Nick stepped in close. “Know what?” he hissed. “You’re worse than in the closet. You’re paranoid and in the closet.” Slamming the trunk shut he added, “Don’t make me paranoid with you.”

Chapter 17

Brandon looked over at Weaver and held out his hand. “Okay, boss man, make with the keys.” Jeff sat in the driver’s side of the high-mileage, mid-nineties Firebird they’d wrangled for this job. “Let’s get this party started.” Based on news from their informant, one convenience store owner named Joe, the Tin Tin was about to find out what a prostitution sting looked like. They’d staged at the back of a service station several blocks down from the café. Most of these places violated the anti-smoking laws and set up fairly elaborate warning systems to avoid detection. Tripping that would blow the chance to nab the bigger prize.

Instead of handing them over, Jeff glared and popped the door. “You wreck this car, Baby D, and I’ll have your nuts as a paperweight.” Hands on the frame, Jeff hauled his bulk out of the once light grey bucket seat. It took much less effort for Brandon to extricate himself from the passenger side. As Brandon came around the front bumper, his partner leaned on the top of the door and shot him another scathing look. “You fucked up the last unmarked I let you drive, big time.”

And this vehicle was in no better shape than the last. Brandon counted at least three different colors of paint on the hood. Hell, the rear end was held together by an offensive litany of bumper stickers. “Come on, Jeff, don’t make me hurt you.” He smiled and snatched the keys the older detective tossed him. “You know you can’t drop me off like daddy in front of this place.”

His partner stepped back to allow Brandon to slide behind the wheel. When he shut the door, Jeff leaned in the open window. “Get going and be safe, Baby D.” Jeff smacked the roof of the Firebird. “If you’re not back in thirty, we’ll send in the cavalry.”

Brandon nodded and twisted the key in the ignition. After a few coughs, the Pontiac wheezed to life and Brandon squealed out of the gas station lot. A glance in the rearview gave him a shot of Jeff shaking his head as he wandered back to wait in one of the patrol cars assigned to them.

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