Desired Quarry

By A. Williams

Alex is framed by his ex-best friend Lou, fired for illegal drug use, dumped by his girlfriend, and mugged all in the same day.

 

When an editor takes a chance and gives him a new job as a crime reporter he is thrilled. Dell, his counterpart at the rival newspaper, isn't. 

 

Everything is going great for Alex until he receives death threats. He suspects Dell, Lou, and Domino, the hit man. But he rules out Lou when they end up as reporters for the same small town newspaper and start to rebuild their friendship.

 

Will Domino's true identity be revealed and who wrote the death threats?

 

Read the 1st person M/M bi-awakening mystery/crime thriller with an HEA ending to find out. 

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. Williams
• Release date: Jul 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201167127

Book preview

Content Warning

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This book contains themes that may be sensitive to some readers:

Off page suicide attempt

Mugging

Death threats

Murder crime scenes

Kidnapping

Drinking & Drugs

Chapter One

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I stood up quickly, gripping the edge of his desk with both hands. You know I don't take drugs, there must have been a mix up at the lab. Do a retest. When his expression didn't change, I realized that Fred Benton, Editor-in-Chief, wouldn't order a retest because he didn't like me. In fact, he was glad he now had a legitimate excuse to fire me. He had wanted to ever since the Happy New Millennium party when I'd kissed his wife on New Year's Eve. I'd been drunk at the time. I couldn't even remember; someone told me about it later. Apparently, I'd made quite a fool of myself that night.

"You can pick up your severance paycheck at the front desk, Westlake. Benefits last two months. Don't give me as a reference. After this gets out, you'll be lucky to find a job at any newspaper. Clear out your cubicle now, here's a box." My former boss practically threw the cardboard box at me. I grabbed it with one hand, stalked out, and slammed the door with the other.

I trembled with rage and stood in the hall a minute taking deep breaths. Maybe Lou was still in his office. It wasn't really his office except for this week, he was acting assistant editor while the real one was on vacation. Since Fred and Lou were friends, I hoped Lou could get me a retest. When I placed my hand on the doorknob, I realized he was on the phone. The hall was so quiet I could hear his voice through the closed door.

That's right. I have the tickets here on my desk, front row seats like I promised if you switched the vials. Drug free - that's me. I heard him laugh once, then there was silence. The phone call was over, just like my career. I'd been framed.

Lou had taken illegal drugs before the test, and I was to be the fall guy. My stomach felt hollow. I had considered Lou my closest friend. Some friend. He was apparently better friends with the lab technician who had lost me my job for a pair of expensive tickets. I had tickets too, raffle tickets, and they were currently inside my jacket pocket in a long white envelope stamped with the newspaper logo.

Lou managed a sympathetic look after I stepped inside his office and closed the door. Fred told me about the results of the drug test this morning and that he was going to fire you. I didn't have a chance to warn you. I'm sorry, Alex. He ran a hand through his thick dark hair.

I shrugged, moved close to the desk, and swung my box around as I talked. Do you believe he refused to do a retest, Lou? I've been here over four years. I deserved a retest, even though I kissed his wife.

My box connected suddenly with the in/out file perched on the edge of his desk and sent it flying, papers scattering from it like a flock of flat ghosts. I'm sorry.

It's okay, Alex.

When Lou bent down to get his file and papers, I swiftly withdrew my envelope and swapped it for its twin on his desk. The deed was done before he straightened up, and set his file further back on the desk this time.

I'll talk to Fred, see if I can get him to change his mind, he said, but I knew he wouldn't.

I looked deep into his gray eyes and wondered what I'd done to make him hate me enough to frame me. You've been a good friend, I won't forget it. I certainly wouldn't forget what he'd done.

He held out his hand. I took it after a slight hesitation which he seemed not to notice. Although I was tempted to grip his hand as hard as I could, I only clasped it briefly, then let go.

I retreated to my cubicle for the last time, and with pleasure deleted the story I'd been hurrying to finish before the deadline. I've never had a bunch of personal items in my cubicle, so it didn't take me long to pack everything into the box. I picked up my severance paycheck at the front desk and left the building without saying goodbye to anyone, Lou had been my only friend there.

***

I looked forward to peace and quiet in an empty apartment, and a chance to get my head together but when I got home, Jill was there. Packing. Several suitcases lay open on the bed, and she was filling them.

Jill swept her blonde bangs from her blue eyes and frowned at me. You're supposed to be at work, Alex. I left you a note. She pointed a long red fingernail at the white sheet of paper on the pillow. The note said simply - 'I'm leaving'.

You call that a note?

Jill didn't say anything.

But why are you leaving, honey? Did I do something wrong?

She wouldn't look at me. It's not you, it's me. I need to live by myself.

I didn't believe her for a minute. You met someone else, didn't you? Is he more successful? A better lover? What?

Jill still wouldn't meet my gaze. He's more interested in me than his career, that's all. You're not like that, your job is more important to you than anything else in the world. Or anyone.

I wasn't going to tell her I'd been fired, and I wasn't going to beg her to stay either. This day just kept getting worse. I sighed and took a deep breath. It's okay, no hard feelings. If you don't mind, I'd like to use your computer and printer before you leave, you know I don't have one of my own. I promise it won't take too long.

She finally met my eyes. That's so like you, Alex. I tell you I'm leaving you for another man, and you don't even get upset or beg me to stay. You just ask to borrow my computer. Well, go ahead.

I found the name and address in my rolodex. Then I used the computer and printer to  type that name and address onto a long envelope and compose the letter to place within.

Curious to see what priceless tickets had cost me my job, I pulled Lou's envelope out of my pocket. Circus tickets. I thought about giving them to Jill, but just for a second. She'd take her new boyfriend, and although I was a nice guy, I wasn't that nice.

After she left, I slipped my coat back on for a trip to the neighborhood pub. I met the landlord in the hall, and he handed me an envelope. I was about to put this in your mailbox Mr. Westlake. I opened it once he was back inside his own apartment. He was increasing the rent!

I turned my coat collar up against the chill of the wind and seriously considered returning to the apartment to call a cab, because the cold was stinging my face and hands. Between my apartment and the pub sat a blue mail collection box where I popped in the envelope addressed to the Sentinel's owner with the address of the hospital that had done the lab test as the return. It contained an anonymous letter from me claiming to have seen a fellow lab technician switching vials during the Sentinel's recent drug test. With the precious tickets now lost, Lou's lab friend might be less likely to help him should a retest occur, and perhaps now I wouldn't be the only reporter looking for a new job.

I smiled, but not for long. Just before I reached the pub, a man with a gun stepped quickly out of a darkened doorway and said, Take your wallet out slowly, hand me all your money, and don't try anything.

He was a good bit taller and heavier than me, and I probably would have given him my money without the threat of a gun. My hands trembled as I withdrew my wallet from my pants pocket, pulled out the bills and handed them over to him. I watched him thrust the money into his pocket with his left hand, the gun in his right hand never wavering once.

My eyes were still on the gun when he said menacingly, If you know what's good for you mister, don't give my description to the cops. I know where to find you because I saw what apartments you came out of. Then he jabbed me hard in my stomach with his left hand and I doubled over with pain. That's just a sample of what I'll do to you if you go to the cops.

When I finally managed to straighten up, the mugger had disappeared. No one else was around at all on a cold winter day like this. They had more sense than to be walking around and getting mugged, I wish I'd had. I doubted the mugger could find my apartment but I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day filling out a report at the police station. That wouldn’t get my money back. The pub was just steps away and I really needed a drink now, but I had no money. I went home.

This had been the worst day of my life. My career was ruined, my best friend betrayed me, my girlfriend dumped me, my landlord raised the rent, and now for the first time in the big city, I'd been mugged.

I looked around the apartment. Luckily, I had rented everything. Years of moving from one newspaper to another had taught me to collect few personal items. I made a few calls, slipped a note and keys into the landlord's box, got my car from the parking deck, and illegally parked it in front of the building while I packed.

I put almost everything into the trunk, placing a small travel bag with underwear, socks, pajamas, and toiletry items on top along with my briefcase which held copies of my resume. Other copies of my resume, individually placed into separate long white envelopes, were stashed in the glove compartment. After hanging some shirts and suits in their dry cleaning bags over the hook above the back seat, I was ready.

I slid inside of my brown Chevrolet sedan which I seldom drove around the city because of the traffic. Where should I go, I was so tired of cold northern winters. I flipped a coin. Heads - west, tails - south. The coin landed tails up. I was grateful to the mugger for not wanting anything from my wallet but the cash. After I went to my bank, I picked a highway going south and didn't stop for a motel until after dark.

The next morning, I picked up a newspaper outside my motel. Even though he had once been my boss and friend, the editor-in-chief of the Observer had no qualms about smearing my name. The headline read - Sentinel Reporter Fired For Illegal Drug Use. I didn't read the story, no one had even called me for my version, everyone just assumed the drug test had been accurate. Disgusted, I crumpled up the paper.

***

As I headed south, I went on interviews at major newspapers along the way. Some editors refused to even meet with me, and those who did had read the article and believed it. Although I swore I had never used illegal drugs, I didn't tell the truth because I couldn't prove Lou had framed me.

About two weeks after I left home, a headline in the local newspaper read - Second Sentinel Reporter Fired. The article said Louis Rice, reporter, had been fired for illegal drug use. My name was mentioned, almost in passing, as though we'd gotten high together. I hadn't thought my name would be cleared, my reputation saved, and it wasn't. There was no mention of an anonymous letter to the Sentinel's owner, or a lab mix up. The owner had probably just ordered another drug test, and not explained the reason. I had considered going to him with my side of the story, but the lack of evidence stopped me.

Lou