CopyCat (12 page)

****

The bar at the Excelsior Hotel was quiet for a Friday night. I sat at the far end, nursing a beer and watching the entrance, hoping someone interesting would come through the doors. It had been a little over a month since that night in my basement.

I’d been interrogated by the police who followed me to the hospital where they took me, Angela Jones by my side the whole time. The officer, who was very young and very nice, kept stealing glances over at Angela Jones as if he was afraid she might leap over the bed at him, and well she might, if she’d have sensed any threat to me. She was a loyal friend and advocate.

She stayed by my side for hours after they called her to come down to the Emergency Room where they took me. After I’d calmed down that night, she told me that Connor Todd was in surgery to release pressure from his brain. He’d been hit so hard they’d thought he was dead, and he wasn’t completely out of the woods yet, but barring complications, the doctors thought he would eventually make a complete recovery.

I had killed Jim Allen, with the one shot to his head, and though I was sorry he was dead, I’d known that he would kill both me and Connor Todd if given the chance, so I was finding it hard to feel a lot of remorse for what I’d done. Steven Oswald had been quickly located, and he’d made a complete confession.

“That insurance man, Allen, and Miguel had been partners for a long time,” Angela Jones told me. “Jim Allen had actually been the one to first approach Miguel with the scheme to steal the art and sell it to private collectors. As a detective with the insurance company, he had information on networks set up to fence the stolen pieces, so they were able to make a lot of money together over the years. Once Steven Oswald introduced you to Miguel, he quickly saw the potential in you to make him even more money. With your perfect copies, he could sell the real pieces to the private collectors and then resell the copies as originals to unsuspecting buyers, thus doubling his profit.

“Even split three ways, the money was good, but then your boyfriend Miguel got too greedy,” she continued. “He tried to make some deals on his own, circumventing Allen, who somehow found out. Allen approached Oswald and the two of them framed Miguel and got him thrown in prison.
He must have cared for you more than you realized, because they bought his silence about their own involvement with threats to you.

“Since Oswald was his business partner, he simply took over the operation for himself and Allen. Oswald kept working with you and was hoping to get you to do even more for him, since he wasn’t…uh…distracting you with sex, but then you decided to renovate the house!”

“They were coming in through an undergroun
d tunnel in the detached garage.
But they were afraid you’d tear out a wall or destroy the old garage or something and you’d be on to them. When you got too friendly with Connor Todd, they were afraid the whole thing would come to light. They both thought you knew more than you were letting on anyway, so they decided to get rid of both you and Todd.
They planned to make it look as if you’d killed him and then took your own life.
Steven Oswald was going to buy the house after they murdered you.”

“And the missing paintings?” I asked. “Were they in the walls?”

“Oh yes, they had a whole room full of them, cut right off the frames and stored in tubes. Transport for items like paintings is easy enough, assuming the thieves are willing to inflict some damage to the paintings. Your grandfather had told Oswald about his suspicions about your house being an old Underground Railway station. He told Oswald about the secret rooms and passages in the walls and when Oswald told Miguel, they both saw the potential for a perfect hiding place while they waited for pieces to be picked up. Especially once your grandfather passed away. They didn’t consider you to be much of a threat, you see, because if you said you heard noises in the walls, then…” She broke off and gave me a worried glance.

“I know. It would just be the word of a crazy person anyway.”

Angela Jones patted my hand. “You’re
not
crazy. You’re one of the brightest, most courageous people I’ve ever known.” Her eyes had gotten a little misty and she shook her head with a laugh. “Now see what you made me do! It’s over now, dear, and you can get back to normal. Unfortunately, the gallery will have to be closed, but you could still paint if you like. You’re brilliant at it, and you should keep doing it. Not that you really need the money anyway. Your parents and your grandfather left you well fixed. You don’t have to work at all if you don’t want to, though it would be a shame not to make the most of so much talent.”

“We’ll see,” I said and turned my face to the wall. I didn’t care about any of that. I couldn’t get my mind off Connor Todd. I wondered if I’d ever see him again. He wasn’t from the area, and I’d heard that a lot of his family had come to be with him while he was recovering. The last thing he needed was to have a visit from me.

There you go, feeling sorry for yourself again. Thinking of all the things you
can’t
do instead of the things you
can
!
My grandfather’s voice echoed in my ear as plainly as if he’d been standing there by the bed. I smiled and turned back toward Angela Jones, listening while she prattled on about coming to her house to dinner again just as soon as I got out of the hospital.

****

The bartender came over and brought me another beer. I pulled out my wallet, intending to pay him for what I’d had so far, drink this last beer, and go home. I hadn’t seen anyone who piqued my interest. None of them were tall blonds with sea green eyes. I was looking down at my billfold, so I didn’t see anyone approach me. I jumped a little then when a voice whispered close to my ear.

“You know, I decided when I came in here I was going to make love to someone tonight. I think you’ll do nicely.”

I turned around so fast I almost knocked over my beer and saw Connor Todd standing beside me. Smiling at me, he slid on the stool beside me. “I paraphrased that a little. I hate to be predictable.”

“Connor! What are you doing here? I had no idea you were back in the city.”

“I never left. My mom lives here in town, and I’ve been staying with her while I recuperated,” he said, rolling his eyes. “She’s very sweet, but I was climbing the walls. Today, I said, ‘Mom, I love you, but I’m moving to a hotel.’”

“So you’re staying here?” I couldn’t stop smiling at him, and my cheeks were beginning to hurt.

“Yes, I am. My favorite hotel in the whole city. The rooms are only average, but the scenery is first rate.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I laughed way too much for such a silly joke.

“I missed you, Gavin. I thought maybe you’d come see me in the hospital.”

“Oh, well, I…I heard your family had come down to see you and I thought…”

“You saved my life, baby. They would have loved to have met you.”

I shrugged. “I don’t do well with meeting new people.”

“Surely there are some movie lines you could memorize to help you out. Maybe not your porn movies, but…”

I glanced up at him to see if he was laughing at me, but he was smiling down warmly, only teasing me a little, so I smiled back at him.“You didn’t call me,” I said quietly.

“I know. I thought a lot about it, but I have so much to say to you I thought I’d better do it in person.” He took my hand in his. “You were so brave that night, Gavin. I really do owe you my life.”

I shrugged, uncomfortable talking about it. It wasn’t as if I’d made a conscious choice. I mean, what else could I have done? I couldn’t have just walked away and left him there. Changing the subject, I turned more toward him. “When you didn’t call, I thought I might not see you again.”

He rubbed his thumb in tiny circles over the back of my hand. “I’m sorry. You’re right—I should have called weeks ago. I had some things to figure out.”

“Did you? Figure them out, I mean.”

“No, not completely. I’m hoping you might give me some more time. We need to get to know each other without all these other issues between us. You trusted me enough to tell me some things about—about you and Santiago. It was hard to hear, but it’s a part of you, and I need to find out about all that, if you’ll share it with me. I have my own issues to work through too. I’d like us to take our time and talk things out, Gavin.”

“I’d like that,” I said, smiling at him.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear again. It sent little shivers up and down my back. “I missed that smile.”

“How long can you stay?” I ran my hand along his arm, loving the warmth and solidness of him.

“Actually, I’ll be looking for a place to rent. Since Allen’s…gone now…they asked me to take his job in the company. He was head of this division, so it’ll mean a promotion for me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s going to feel a little weird, but it’s a lot more money, and I’d be closer to my mom. She’s had a few health issues lately. Actually, I was wondering if you could help me out.”

“Who, me?”

“Yes. You see, I was looking for a room to rent in your neighborhood. Maybe an older place with plenty of rooms? Secret passages are optional. Of course, I’d need a landlord who liked to paint pictures and watch a little porn and who might share his special cup with me. Not all the time, of course. But maybe if I asked really nicely. I know that’s oddly specific, but I was wondering if you might know of a place like that?”

“I think I might, actually. The rates are quite reasonable too. But sharing the special cup is out, I’m afraid, no matter how nicely you ask.”

He pretended to consider this for a moment and then nodded, his beautiful eyes gleaming at me. “Okay. I think I could live with that.”

“Me too,” I said, and leaned over to give him a kiss.

THE END

About the Author

Shannon West is a multi-published, best-selling author of M/M romance. She writes every day, and discovered that once you stop doing housework, it really frees up a lot of your time. She loves traveling, reading hot romance and spending time with her husband and family. She has written historical romance under another name, but found the M/M romance genre and never looked back.

You can find out more about Shannon at
www.shannonwestbooks.com

Dark Hollows Press

Dark Hollows Press is a publisher of erotic romance. We publish mostly m/m novels and short stories, but are open to all genres of erotic expression, including, f/f, m/f and ménage. We believe our authors are artists and their talent shouldn't be censored, so our authors present high quality stories full of romance, desire and sometimes graphic moments that are both entertaining and erotic. We have an exclusive group of talented writers and we publish stories that range from historical to fantasy, sci-fi to contemporary.

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