Those Who Fight Monsters: Tales of Occult Detectives

Tony watched Lee take his leave of a familiar hooker and follow Pam onto the section of street standing in for Victorian Vancouver. Tony met him just before he reached his mark and leaned in, one hand resting lightly against the other man’s chest. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. I was just talking to—”

“I saw.”

“Her name’s Valerie.”

“I know. Police let it drop when they questioned me about finding the body. They didn’t charge her.”

“Yeah, she said.”

“Apparently you don’t scream if you’ve just killed someone and there was still five hundred and twenty-seven dollars in the guy’s wallet.” Tony frowned. “They said there was no ID, though.”

Lee frowned as well, a slight dip of dark brows. Not quite enough to wrinkle his forehead. “They said a lot.”

Tony shrugged. Past experience had taught him that a lot of cops weren’t too concerned about maintaining a hooker’s privacy, but he had no intention of getting into that with Lee. “She say why she came by? Are we on her stretch of turf?”

“No.” Lee shook his head, careful not to knock James Taylor Grant’s hair out of place. “Well, maybe. But I don’t think that’s why she came by.”

“Get a room, you two!” Adam’s shout moved them apart. “And Tony, unless you’ve been cast as Grant’s new girlfriend…”

“And the Internet goes wild,” someone muttered.

“…get your ass out of my shot.”

Lee handed Tony his green tea, and visibly settled into his character as Tony moved back beside the camera. When he looked for Valerie, she was right where Lee’d left her, cradling the muffin in both hands. Suddenly becoming conscious of Tony’s regard, she turned her head slightly and their eyes met.

Tony almost recognized her expression.

“Upon reflection,” he said softly to himself, hands wrapped around the warmth of the paper cup, “I don’t think that’s why she came around either.”

“You don’t have to come in now, you know.” Eyes half closed, Tony stared blearily across the elevator at Lee. Early mornings were not his best time. “Cast call isn’t for another hour.”

Lee waved it off. “Five thirty, six thirty — they both suck. But my car’s back in the shop, it’s too early to haul one of the drivers out when you’re going in anyway, and once I’m there, I can always grab some shut-eye on the couch.”

“I don’t know.” He sagged against the elevator wall, the stainless steel cold even through three layers of clothing. “We’ve been seen a lot together lately, and that roommates thing only goes so far.”

“Tony, it’s five o’clock in the morning, even the paparazzi are still asleep. What’s up with you?”

“I’ve just been thinking about it, that’s all. About the choice you’re making for…” He waggled his coffee between them. “…us. And I want you to know that I appreciate it.”

“What the fuck brought that on?”

Lee’s eyes started to narrow, as if he could read the world “Valerie” in the space between them so Tony hurriedly muttered, “I don’t know. Lack of sleep.”

After a moment, Lee leaned in, gently bumped the sides of their heads together — a manly embrace for the security cameras — and stepped away as the elevator reached the parking garage. “You’re an idiot.”

Unlike Lee’s expensive hybrid, Tony’s elderly car seldom broke down, and Tony gave thanks that his ancient brakes worked as well as they did when he pulled out of the underground garage and nearly ran down a brown-haired woman in a short blue dress.

“Is that…?”

“Yeah, I think it is.” Lee twisted in his seat as she disappeared behind a panel van in the small parking lot. “Pull over.”

“What?”

“I should talk to her.”

“About what?”

“I don’t…” Sighing, he faced front again. “Doesn’t matter. She’s gone. Maybe it’s the way we met, maybe it’s just that she’s so vulnerable in spite of … everything. I think she needs a friend.” When Tony glanced over, Lee was frowning slightly. “There’s just something about her, you know?”

“Yeah.” Tony could feel her watching from wherever she’d tucked herself and worked very hard at unclenching his jaw. “I know.”

Finished at four thirty — almost like a person with a real job — and back home by six, thanks to traffic, Lee sagged against the minivan’s seatbelt and muttered, “I should never have gotten rid of the bike.”

Richard, CB Productions’ senior driver, shrugged as he pulled into the condo’s driveway. “Well, you got domestic.”

“Jesus, Tony had nothing to do with it.” Lee wondered which of them Richard thought had lost their balls. “CB suggested the insurance wouldn’t cover me if I kept riding.”

Richard shrugged again. “Yeah, that’s a good reason too. You going to need a ride in tomorrow?”

“No, my car’ll be ready in the morning; I’ll drive. I’ve got a late call, it’s all Mason and the…”

Girl. Woman. She was standing on the other side of the street. Watching him through the breaks in the rush hour traffic. Smiling. Looking good. Looking beautiful. Looking even better than he remembered, actually. The black sweater had fallen open and soft curves filled out the drape of the dress.

“Lee?”

Lee was already out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, Richard.”