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February 20

Brian leaned back in his chair, he head throbbing as he tried to make sense of everything he'd learned when he'd met up with Detective Nakamura, or Tak as he preferred to be called, and Carl this afternoon. He pinched the bridge of his nose and dug his fingers into his eyes in the hopes of relieving the pressure built up behind them, absolutely frustrated with the way the case was going. Or, in reality, how it wasn't going.

He'd hoped that with this newest break-in, that the police might have had some definitive answers for who was doing this and a plan for bringing the asshole to justice. At the very least, he'd hoped that they'd have a list of suspects that he could identify. But it had been nothing like that as they didn't have anything.

Or at least, nothing of great importance.

Exhaling harshly, Brian reached into his drawer and pulled out a small bottle of pills; he opened it, shook two out and dry-swallowed the aspirins, hoping that they would ease some of the ache in behind his eyes. But he knew it would do nothing for the ache in his heart or the helpless rage and fear that was bubbling in his gut.

He'd hoped to have some answers for Justin when he went home tonight; but from what the good detective said, unless this asshole struck again and acted a lot more carelessly than he had before, they were at a dead end as there just wasn't enough evidence to make even a half-assed identification.

And fuck; those words had really rankled when Brian had heard them; he had been so close to popping, that he  was surprised that he'd handled it as calmly as he did.

 

"Please tell me that you have something on this asshole," Brian said wearily, scrubbing a hand over his face, feeling his fatigue down to his bones.

It had been a rough night, with Justin waking up due to some vivid dream that he was being chased down a long, dark hall, with no end in sight, and his stalker just a hairbreadth behind him at all times. And Brian didn't know just how much more of this that he could take. He'd hated the feeling of helplessness that washed over him as he held Justin's shuddering form,trying to quietly soothe him back into sleep.it had been a fucking nightmare of its own.

"Unfortunately, there isn't much to go on," Tak said, a regretful note in his voice; he sighed and looked just as tired and downtrodden as Brian did as he flipped through his notes. "Whoever did this was smart; very smart, and they didn't leave much usable evidence behind."

"What do you mean?" Brian asked, dread curling in his stomach; he'd hoped that by now they'd have some answers for him, if not an actual solution; and to hear that they didn't have anything made him want to scream.

"Well there were no fingerprints at either your loft or the gallery for starters; outside of those that were expected to be there that is," Tak said, rubbing his hand over his face. "Not even a partial, which leads us to believe that the perpetrator was likely wearing gloves."

Brian exhaled explosively and cursed under his breath, his agitation growing as Tak flipped a page in his file.

"There was also was no security footage that was of any help," Tak continued with a grim look. "Somehow the perp knew exactly where the cameras were located at your place; or, at least, he or she knew where they were at the doors and inside the stairs and halls." Tak shook his head, his brow pinched. "And once inside, he was masked just as he was during the gallery break-in. And those he took out almost immediately."

Brian exchanged a helpless look with Carl, whose own face was somber at the news.

"Again, there were no prints at the gallery," Tak said, as he continued flipping through the pages. "All keys to the place were accounted for, including a set that the granddaughter of a former employee turned in, yet the locks weren't jimmied. Tried to follow up every key-holder, and all were cleared but the former employee and the granddaughter; but they were also out of the country at the time and have been gone for over a week." Tak paused to scratch his brow. "We did get a partial footprint in the gallery. But without other evidence, it doesn't do much good."

Brian huffed and scrubbed his hand over his hair, his ire growing with each new detail. "What about the photo? If he handled it as often at it would seem he did, surely he wouldn't have been wearing gloves every time he handled it."

"We got a couple of partials," Tak said, sitting back in his chair. "But they were too small to get anything useful. Most of it was smudged due to the constant handling. And even then, it's not like on the TV, where you input a fingerprint and instantly get a match. What you typically get is a number of likely matches that you then have to then compare against the print and look for certain distinguishing points. It's not something you can just overlay and go, yup that's it! The elasticity of skin, smudging, and other environmental factors can make matching difficult."

"So, basically, you're saying that this entire method is for shit." Brian growled his frustration, waving off a concerned Carl when he moved to say something. He knew that this wasn't the detective's fault; and he was more angry about the situation than anything, but he was beyond frustrated and he hated not knowing things!

"I'm saying that they help with narrowing the field," Tak said with a shrug. "With a positive identification, they can be a great way to link a suspect to a crime; especially when factored with other identifying evidence. But they aren't the home run that Hollywood would have you believe. And with a lack of evidence, all we can do is hope this asshole trips up, and soon."

"Well, that's just great," Brian said sarcastically, his lips compressing into a thin line as he sat back and listened to the rest of the report, but his mind was already trying to figure out how to best protect his husband.


Brian shook his head and then winced as the motion sent pain lancing through his head worse than before; reaching over, he grabbed his water bottle and took a long drink. The rest of the meeting with Tak had gone pretty much the same way – there were interesting tidbits and similarities between the two break-ins, but nothing substantial had been found nor was there anything they could do anything with. The only things of note that Tak needed to follow up on was the fact that Sydney and he had employed the same cleaning service and security service for the loft and the gallery.

Tak was hoping to find a lead there; otherwise they were fucked.

And just knowing that made Brian uneasy. He'd trusted both companies for a long time; and he would hate for either of them to have been involved in any way. Thankfully, he didn't use either for Britin, as he and Justin had decided to go with a security company closer to the house; and Anna and John, along with their daughter, Maggie, and son, Eric, took care of the upkeep of the house and grounds. The only time they hired outside help was when they were planning a large party at the house.

He'd also brought Tak up to date on a few things that Justin had confided in him last night; namely that, while they'd been at the hospital the other day, Justin was certain that he'd seen someone watching them as they crossed the parking lot. But more importantly than that, he was almost one hundred percent positive that he'd seen this same person lurking when they'd been in Geneva-by-the-Lake. In fact, Justin was ready to go on record and swear that they were the same person.

What had been even more disturbing, was that the height, weight and build of the person he'd seen both times, was also similar to the guy who'd grabbed him at the store. Now, had it been anyone else, Brian would have dismissed it as paranoia; but Justin had an accurate eye and noticed things that others didn't. And he'd distinctly recalled that the jacket both men had been wearing. Or really, he remembered the stylized wolf on the back of the jacket; which to his eyes, looked like it had been a custom design, not something mass-produced.

Even more disturbing was the fact that Justin also swore that the voice that had called him 'angel' while they'd been watching the parade in Geneva, was the same as the voice that had spoken to him in the grocery store. Although, that bit he'd been a bit more hesitant to confirm as there had been a lot of background noise at the parade and he could be wrong.

Still, it had been enough to send a chill down Brian's spine.

Fuck, he didn't know what to do.

He knew that Justin was going to want an update when he got home, and he didn't really want to tell him that they were shit out of fucking luck because this asshole was playing it smart at the moment and doing nothing to give himself away. He really didn't want to see the pinched expression on his husband's face or have to listen him cry out in the middle of the night again because he was dreaming of this asshole closing in on him.

Sitting up, Brian began packing up his briefcase; he knew that there was no way in hell that he was going to get any fucking work done for the rest of the day. Better to just go home, wrap Justin up in his arms and try again tomorrow. Sliding some files into his bag, just on the off chance that he might get inspired later, Brian looked around and stood, and was just about to tell Yasmeen that he was leaving, when she'd buzzed him.

"Yes," Brian said as he activated the intercom.

"Mr. Taylor-Kinney," Yasmeen said, her formal tone and hint of annoyance setting him instantly on edge; somehow, he knew that he was going to regret answering.

"Yes, Yasmeen," Brian said, praying that whatever it was would be quick and painless and he could fucking leave soon after. "What is it? I was just packing up and about to tell you I was leaving for the day?'

He said that last bit pointedly; hoping that whoever was waiting would get a fucking clue and leave him alone.

"There is a Benjamin Bruckner here to see you," Yasmeen announced, sounding like she would rather get a root canal than announce his presence. Brian barely held back a snort at how accurate that image was; she was not a fan of the Novotny-Bruckners. "He was wondering if you might spare him a few minutes to talk."

Fucking hell; just what he fucking needed - a pow wow with Zen Ben. Could this day get any fucking worse? Actually scratch that; he should know better than to tempt the fates by asking that question.

"Send him in," Brian sighed heavily, and barely held back the string of expletives that wanted to flow after that statement. "But after this, I'll be leaving and working from home for the rest of the day. let the masses know that they better not call me unless it's an emergency."

"Yes, Mr. Taylor-Kinney," Yasmeen acknowledged with no little disgruntlement; and Brian couldn't quite quell his laughter as he could easily imagine her staring at Ben as if she'd smelled something foul.

"And Yasmeen," Brian said with a knowing smirk, having heard what had started her foul mood in the first place. "Go home before you make the rest of my admin staff cry and I have to hire an entire new staff."

"Whatever," Yasmeen huffed, not at repentant about the girl she sent scurrying back to her office in tears. "It's not my fault that Darla's an incompetent nitwit. I explained the system to her three times before I left. How she managed to schedule three accounts for the same time spot, I don't know; but she needed to be told that she needs to pay more attention to what she's doing and not flirting with Garrett in legal. Do you know how much I hate dealing with Kellie at Eyeconics? Let alone having to tell her that we have to change her meeting time?"

"All the same," Brian snickered, recalling just how pissed off she'd been when she'd gotten back from lunch and realized the mess the new girl had left her; not to mention the hour she'd spent soothing egos and smoothing the waters because of Darla's incompetence. "Go home."

Deactivating the com, Brian sat back down at his desk and sighed; he really didn't want to deal with this shit today of all days. It had already been shitty, and having to explain to Zen Ben that there was no way in hell that he was going to forgive Michael for his recent shenanigans sounded like a headache in the making. Actually, make that a worse one in the making, since he still hadn't gotten rid of this one. He was in no mood to play nice.

"Brian," Ben greeted as he walked in, closing the door silently behind him. "Thank you for seeing me on short notice."

"Ben," Brian greeted, fighting to keep his face bland; because like hell was he going to make life easier for the other man. Not when he'd purposely been blocking his access to Michael. "What can I do for you?"

"I don't wan to take up too much of your time," Ben said, rubbing the back of his neck; and Brian was hard pressed not to snort at that; a bit late for that isn't it Zen Ben? "I just wanted to come and invite you and Justin to dinner with me and Hunter."

"Why?" Brian asked, trying to figure out his game; while Ben hadn't mentioned Michael, Brian wouldn't put it past him to try and ambush the two of them if he thought it would smooth things out between Michael and Brian. And like hell was that going to happen.

"I'm sorry?" Ben asked, seeming a bit surprised by his question; but what had he expected? That Brian would just cave because he asked nicely. Uh uh, no way asshole; I know whose side you're on and it's not mine.

"Why do you want to see us?" Brian asked, arching a brow as he studied the other man, noting his pinched expression. "Or, more specifically, why should I let any of your family near Justin? The last time that happened, he ended up in the hospital."

"That's fair," Ben nodded, a thin, pained smile on his face. "I can understand you not trusting the invitation after what Michael did."

"Not just Michael," Brian corrected, his lips compressing into a thin line as he stared harshly at the man who had protected Michael. He got it to a point; Michael was his husband. But there comes a point where you have to let the other person face the consequences for their actions; Ben hadn't learned that yet. "You aren't very high on my list either considering what happened after the Big Q Showdown as people like to call it."

"I am sorry about that," Ben said; and he seemed genuine, and Brian wanted to believe him; but he'd also seen Ben lie straight-faced without even flinching. "I was operating under false pretenses."

Brian snorted, shaking his head at that load of bullshit.

"I don't quite believe you on that, Benny Boy," Brian said, rubbing a hand over jaw. "I know that the video went viral. And unlike Deb, who still thinks that computers are a waste of time, I know you are very well versed in social media since you have to deal with that shit on a daily basis with all those college kids around you. I don't believe for a minute that you didn't see the video and you still continued to piss around with me."

Ben flushed red, but remained silent.

"But fine," Brian said held up a hand. "Let's say I do buy into this little fantasy that you're weaving here; what guarantee can you give me that your husband isn't going to ambush Justin the moment we meet you. Because let me tell you, Ben; if this is a thinly disguised, misguided attempt at bringing about some sort of resolution between us, you're wasting your time and mine. And, you won't like me when I'm done sowing the field with your entire family's blood. There are few things in this life that I cherish, but that little blond twat that I married and my sprogs top the list. I will raise bloody hell if anyone even thinks of breathing on them wrong."

"I…" Ben swallowed thickly and looked away. "I understand; and you have my guarantee that Michael will be nowhere near whatever restaurant you chose. Deb and Carl promised to hog tie him to his old bed if necessary."

"Well," Brian said, steepling his fingers as he studied the other man contemplatively. "It does seem that you're all wising up a bit when it comes to Michael's manipulations." Brian paused as he considered the pros and cons of the invitation. "I have to admit, you have me curious; but I can't give you an answer now. I need to talk it over with Justin; and let me tell you this now, if he says no; I will stand by his decision."

"Understandable," Ben nodded, taking the answer with better grace than Brian had expected. "Please feel free to call me anytime and let me know your decision. All I want is a chance to make amends between me, and the two of you; and I have a bit of news that I want to share that will, hopefully, have Justin resting easier. Also, Hunter wanted to be there to, as he put it, 'congratulate his favorite blond nemesis.' His words, not mine."

Brian's eyebrows rose, and he was tempted to ask just what kind of news would matter to either him or Justin, but he held mum as he really just wanted to get the fuck out of there and Zen Ben had already wasted more than enough of his time.

"I'll talk to Justin when I get home and let you know," Brian nodded and stood, gathering his things in a not so subtle hint. "Was there anything else?"

"No; have a good evening, Brian," Ben said, nodding again as he turned towards the door. "And say hello to Justin for me."

Brian nodded and watched as the other man walked out of the room before he exhaled explosively and relaxed his stance. Fuck this day. He was so over it. Time to go home, snag his favorite blond twat and forget the rest of these assholes for a while.

 

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