Tarot's Touch by L.M. Somerton Page B

suggestions that came with the tarot cards, maybe he’d get a more realistic picture of the situation. He clambered into bed, feeling content in body and mind. The empty side of the bed reminded him of Alex’s absence but the sheets smelled of his lover. He grabbed one of Alex’s pillows and hugged it close, breathing in his scent. It was only one night. With any luck, his dreams would feature Alex rather than the Tarot Killer.

Chapter Six
     
     
     
    Conor got to work early the next morning and buried himself in research. Alex was catching a flight which, delays allowing, would get him back to the station by ten-thirty at the latest. An invisible force seemed to hold back the hands of the clock. Conor found himself glancing up at it more and more, wondering if he needed to check the battery. His excited anticipation of seeing his lover again was tempered by the knowledge that the first thing Alex would likely look at was Sarge’s full report from the previous day. He fidgeted in his seat.
    What can he do? Yell a lot. That I can deal with… It’s kind of sexy.
    His phone rang and he jumped. He caught Sergeant Higgs’ eye as he picked up the receiver. Higgs began to mime some kind of elaborate death scene, and Conor had to choke back a laugh as he answered the call.
    “Get your arse up here. Now.”
    Conor winced as the call abruptly cut off before he had the chance to respond.
    “Was that the boss?” Higgs called across the office.
    “Yes, Sarge. I think your mime might be about to come true. His first words were not ‘I missed you’.” Conor crossed to the kitchen. He made a large mug of strong coffee as a peace offering then headed for the stairs.
    “I’ll get the first-aid kit out ready,” Higgs called after him.
    Conor hurried up three flights of stairs as fast as he could without spilling coffee everywhere. Alex’s door stood open. As Conor hovered in the opening, he could see Alex’s overnight bag dumped in a corner of the small room. Alex stood in front of his desk with what looked like Higgs’ report in his hands. He wore charcoal gray trousers, a light blue shirt and a conservative navy tie. His blond hair was attractively tousled, and Conor hardened at the sight of him. He edged into the room and placed the mug of coffee on the corner of the desk. Alex watched, his pale blue eyes cold as ice.
    “Do you seriously think that will help you?” Alex gestured at the coffee.
    “It was worth a try.” Conor stood straight with his hands clasped behind him while Alex closed the door with a soft, somehow disturbing, click.
    Alex perched on the edge of his desk and glared daggers.
    “I’m absolutely fascinated to hear what possible reason you could have for not telling me that my boyfriend is the new best friend of a sadistic, murdering creep.” His voice was soft. Too soft.
    Conor swallowed. “That’s why, sir. Because I’m your boyfriend.”
    “Enlighten me.”
    “It was just a letter, Alex. Sorry…sir. It could have been addressed to any one of us. It’s just another piece of the puzzle.”
    Alex growled deep in his throat. “It wasn’t addressed to just anyone. It was addressed to you, and Higgs reports that you also think you may have been followed.”
    “Well, I’m not sure about that. It was just a feeling. I didn’t see anyone. It shouldn’t make a difference. What would it have looked like if you’d come running back from Scotland because your boyfriend received a strange letter?”
    “Who says I would have?”
    Conor managed a small smile. “Wouldn’t you?”
    “Fuck. Of course I would.” Alex began to pace backward and forward across the office. It was a small room and it didn’t take him more than four strides in each direction. “I couldn’t give a shit what people think.”
    “Well, I could. This is your career we’re talking about.”
    Conor’s back hit the wall with a thud as Alex slammed him against it. His lips were crushed by a kiss that was all about Alex