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“Getting better all the time,” Ken answered, and Harry took that as confirmation that the personnel problems within the department were being taken care of. Bull locked the door and then joined them.

“Ken, I believe you know everyone here, except probably Crawford and Loretta Martin, Tristan’s parents,” Harry said. They shook hands, and Ken moved to stand next to his fellow officer.

“Look, I called, threatened, and did everything in my power to get you all here because Tristan has been gone for nearly eight hours now, and that’s more than enough wasted time,” Harry said. “The police haven’t been looking for him up till now, but I assume that’s going to change.” Harry turned to Ken, who nodded. “Then I’m going to yield the floor to the officer here. Please answer all his questions. Any one of us might have the information needed to help find Tristan.”

Harry’s voice nearly broke as he thought about what Tristan might be going through. He swallowed and reached for his bottle of water, hoping no one noticed his shaking hands. He’d been on a tear for the past few hours, and that had kept him going, but now his energy was flagging as his base worry and fear took over.

“All right, Mr. and Mrs. Martin, can I speak to you first?” Ken asked and moved to a different table. Tristan’s parents looked at one another and then got up and walked to where Ken indicated.

“I know you’ve all watched the video. Did any of you recognize the man with Tristan?” Bull asked. Unfortunately they all shook their heads.

“I’ve seen him in here a few times,” Spook said from just behind Harry, staying on the far side of the group, probably to keep them between him and the police. “I had to watch the tape a few times because I could only see part of his face, but….” Spook moved closer to him. “I had to complete the face in my mind to try to recognize him. He was in the club last night, hanging out at the bar.” Spook caught his eye and then gazed at Bull. He got up, and the two of them moved away from the group. “This guy stayed under my radar until I realized who he was. He usually hangs out near the bar, and I’ve seen one of our bartenders talking with him. At first I thought they were friends, and it might be a coincidence, but I don’t believe in them.”

“What are you saying?”

“I think there’s a snake in the grass, and I believe I know who it is. The guy who took Tristan was spending a lot of time around Rodney, and it wasn’t as though they were making eyes at each other, although now that I think about it, that was what it was supposed to look like.” Spook sighed. “I should have seen this.”

“You know that hindsight is always perfect. The thing is, we can give the police a possible lead and someone they can talk to,” Bull said, putting a positive spin on it.

Harry’s knees wobbled, and he managed to keep his balance through sheer will. “Fuck.”

“I know,” Bull said, turning to him.

Harry’s mistake was coming back to haunt him in a huge way. “What the fuck?” He blinked. “This is my fault.”

“Stop that shit,” Bull growled under his breath. “We need to find Tristan. That’s all that’s important. Remember that.” Bull turned to where Ken was finishing up with Tristan’s parents. Once they stepped away, Bull went over and spoke to Ken. Harry watched them talking for a few minutes, and then Bull sat down. Spook backed away, and Harry knew he didn’t want to speak to the police, but there might not be much choice. Bull returned after a few minutes.

“What did you tell him about Rodney?”

Bull shook his head. “Nothing. We can’t without putting Spook in his sights, and that isn’t going to be good. I suggested that he find out the houses Menendez is using in town, and he called in a request to make that happen.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed. “You sound like you have a plan.”

Bull turned to Spook. “I suggest you find out where Rodney is. Harry can give you his address. He’s probably still sleeping, but if he’s on Eddie’s payroll, then he’s probably going to go see him to gloat after the successful operation last night, and he’s going to want some reward for his part in it. What do you think?”

Spook paused in the dark corner where he’d stationed himself, nearly out of sight. “That’s a good idea. I’ll get on it now.” He turned to him, and Harry pulled a small piece of paper from his wallet and wrote down directions to where Rodney lived. He’d been there once, and the apartment wasn’t far from the club. He both hated that he knew where Rodney lived and was relieved he didn’t need to go to the office and draw attention to himself. Spook bumped his hand in a surprising show of brotherhood that the other man rarely gave. Harry wasn’t sure what it meant, not completely, and maybe he’d never know, but it felt good nonetheless.

Ken called Tristan’s friends over, and they talked for a while. Harry didn’t see Spook leave, but somehow he knew he was gone. Tristan’s parents sat close together at the table, Crawford holding his wife’s hand. Harry approached, but the expression he got from Crawford told him to stay away. It was likely they were looking for someone to blame, and he was the closest target. He was their son’s gay boyfriend and therefore easiest for Crawford to demonize in his mind.

Once Ken was done with the guys, he asked to speak to him. Harry walked over and sat down at the small table. “Everyone seems convinced that Eddie Menendez is behind this, and circumstances tend to point in that direction,” Ken said. “But what I want to know is why he’d do that and what he realistically has to gain.”

“The way I see it, Menendez is either obsessed with Tristan, or he simply isn’t willing to let him go.” Harry thought carefully. “Tristan told me that when they were seeing each other he didn’t know what Eddie was doing. Eddie kept that portion of his life from him until it was too late, and once he found out, Tristan left.”

“Do you buy that?”

“Knowing Tristan, I do. He wouldn’t want to be with anyone like that. I remember him being very broken up about it. I really think Tristan had fallen for the guy.”

“So it’s possible that Menendez fell for Tristan as well and isn’t happy he’s seeing you. But if that’s the case, why not get you out of the picture?” Ken asked.

“Getting rid of me wouldn’t get Tristan back. In fact, it would probably drive Tristan further away. But I doubt there are very deep motives at work here. I saw Eddie a few days ago. He’d stopped in to harass Tristan while he was at work, and he looked like hell. He was trying to cover it up, but I know the signs of a user, and I think he’s started sampling his own wares. The dark circles under his eyes, mottled skin, dull hair. He was dressing sharply, but there are some things you can’t hide.”

“So Eddie isn’t necessarily thinking straight,” Ken said.

“I don’t think so.” Harry turned to Bull and motioned him over. “We’re talking about the day we had lunch with Eddie.” He made light of it, but he could tell Bull knew it was serious. “I was telling him I thought Eddie might be using.”

“It’s a distinct possibility,” Bull agreed, but he offered no additional insight.

“Why didn’t you bring this up earlier?” Ken asked sharply.

“Would it have mattered? He hasn’t done anything like this before, and you had all you could handle with your dirty officer,” Bull answered. “Besides, we had closed ranks to help protect him.” The unmistakable look that he thought they might have made an error crossed Bull’s countenance for a split second, and then it was gone. “We’re doing everything we can to try to find Tristan.”

“Yes. I understand,” Ken said. “We’re going to run down all of Eddie’s known locations, but we need to tread lightly.” The note of warning was plain. “I also know time is of the essence.”

“I understand. We want him safe,” Bull said.

Harry looked from Ken to Bull. “What aren’t you telling me?” It seemed like the two of them were talking in some sort of code, and he didn’t have the book to decipher it.

Bull turned to Ken and raised his eyebrows. “The longer someone is missing with no word, the less the chances are that they’ll be found alive. Presuming that Menendez has Tristan, which is probably a good assumption, we don’t know how long he’ll keep him alive. There have been no demands for ransom and no other contact. Hell, we don’t even know if Menendez still has Tristan in the city.” Ken stood. “We’ll get on this.”

Harry lowered his head, staring at the tabletop. “Thank you for not blowing smoke.” At least he wasn’t saying some line from a television show about how he’d bring Tristan back to him no matter what… or some such crap. “We’ll do whatever we can to help.” Harry sighed and did his best not to look around.

“I know that,” Ken said. “I’d like to take a look in the office, since that’s where the abduction originated.”

“I doubt you’ll find much. We didn’t. As near as we can tell, he was most likely drugged and then put into a sweatshirt and walked out of the club during the car-fire incident last night that acted as a diversion. The whole thing must have been planned.” Harry’s guilt increased as his energy waned by the second. He should have done a better job of watching over Tristan.

“Harry,” Bull said quietly from next to him. “I’ll take Ken to the office. Maybe you should go home and get some rest. You’ve been up all night and haven’t slept much in two days. If anything happens, I promise to call.”

Harry shook his head vigorously. He wasn’t going anywhere until Tristan was back where he belonged. The thought of going home without him was impossible to fathom. Harry pushed himself up and went to sit with Tristan’s parents. They weren’t the most welcoming of people, but they seemed to be just as worried and scared for Tristan as he was. “They’re going to find him.”

“Do you really think so?” Loretta asked, tearful once again.

“Yes, I do.” He had to. He had no other choice at this point. Tristan had to be found, and it had to be done quickly. If anything happened to Tristan, Harry would never be able to forgive himself. He had promised Tristan, more than once, that he would keep him safe, and that promise had been broken. Instead, Tristan had been taken from under their noses, right out of his own goddamned club. They had waltzed into his office, gotten to Tristan, most likely drugged him, and walked him right out the fucking front door. When Harry got his hands on Rodney, he was going to throttle the bastard within an inch of his useless life. That was all there was to it.

“Are you all right?” Jeremy asked as he sat next to him. “You’re grinding your teeth.”

“Of course I’m not all right,” Harry snapped, and all the people around him flinched. He jumped up from his seat and began pacing the club floor. Suddenly he had energy galore and no outlet for it. He didn’t know what to do and felt helpless as hell. Maybe he should have told Spook he wanted to go with him. Not that it was likely Spook would let him. The man guarded his ghostlike secrets closely. But being out of here, doing something, would make him feel less useless.

“The waiting is the hardest part,” Tristan’s mother said.

“You got that right, sister,” Harry quipped and walked over to the bar. He opened a bottle of vodka, poured a shot, and downed it. He offered the bottle around to everyone, but they all shook their heads. Harry closed it up and put it back in its place. He didn’t need more, but a single slug with its burn all the way down his throat warmed him and in a way woke him up. “Sorry,” he mumbled to Tristan’s mother before returning to his pacing.

Ken came out of the office with the other officer in tow. Harry barely noticed them. They spoke with Bull, and he led them to the table.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we have anything,” Ken promised them. It sounded like a well-used line to Harry, but he didn’t know what else Ken could say. “We’re going to do everything we can to find Tristan and bring him home.”

“Thank you,” Tristan’s father said, without the disdain he’d displayed earlier.

The officers left by the front door. Crawford and Loretta got up as well. She leaned on her husband for support. “If you hear anything….” he began, speaking to Harry.

“I’ll be sure to call, and please do the same.” Harry wasn’t sure Tristan’s father would give him the time of day. Their expressions were so blank and drained that Harry had no idea what they would do. They left the club, and as soon as the door closed, Harry collapsed onto one of the chairs, put his head down on the table, and did his level best to keep tears at bay. He hadn’t cried about anything or anyone in years. But tears came now. He did his best to control them, but failed.

“Harry, it’s going to be okay,” Kevin said from behind him as he rested his hand gently on Harry’s back. “They’re going to find Tristan, and he’s going to be fine.” From the way his voice broke, Harry could tell Kevin didn’t really believe what he was saying. But that didn’t fucking matter. Harry lifted his gaze in time to see Zach chewing his lower lip and Jeremy fidgeting with his hands as though he didn’t know what to do with them. They were all just as worried as he was. Harry stood, and they moved closer until he was surrounded by Tristan’s closest friends in a group hug that, if nothing else, showed him he wasn’t alone in his worry. They may not have been any closer to getting Tristan back, but there were three other people just as scared, just as worried, and willing to try to comfort him. “You know this isn’t your fault,” Kevin said. “None of us blames you in the least.”

Kevin was generally the quiet one of Tristan’s little group, and it meant a lot that he was trying to offer comfort. “Thanks, but I do blame myself.”

“Guilt and blame are a waste of energy,” Kevin said, and the others nodded and pulled him tighter. “Tristan will come back to us,” Kevin added firmly. Harry sniffed, not hiding his feelings, not with them, and hoped he was right.