Page 3 of The Burnt (The Declan Hunt Mysteries #3)

Charlie mounted the stairs to the office. It was five o’clock and he was running late. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Carrie.

Declan and I will be there by seven. I have to deal with a few things then I’ll come home.

Home. Charlie had only had two places in his life that he’d considered home.

The first was the one he’d shared with his parents and grandmother.

The second was the apartment he now shared with his best friend Carrie, who had taken him in when he’d been kicked out of his parents’ place.

Now he stood one floor below the home he wished he had—the apartment above the office, where Declan lived.

Living with Declan would be the last home he could hope for, but they both had to be ready for that. Working and living together was a big step.

Crash .

The ceiling trembled. Charlie shook his head. He really had to buy Declan a thicker weight mat to muffle the noise.

Crash.

A text came in from Carrie.

Looking forward to seeing Declan.

Carrie had been bugging Charlie for weeks about getting together with Declan for dinner. But something had always gotten in the way. Tonight, he had to make it happen.

Charlie ran to his desk and typed as quickly as his fingers would allow. Forty-five minutes later, he printed a copy of the report of his interviews to pass on to Declan. As Charlie shut down his computer for the night, the detective walked into the reception area.

“Still working?” he asked Charlie.

“Just documenting my progress on the case,” Charlie answered. “I cornered some of Tyler Chipping’s coworkers. They were more than willing to help out. I hope it’s okay—I treated them to lunch. That can’t be interpreted as me bribing them, can it?”

Declan laughed. “No. I think you’ll be safe.”

“Their names are all in the report. They were happy to slag the guy. They even gave me contact info for another guy named Farzan who corroborated their stories. I talked to him this afternoon. He referred to Tyler as”—Charlie looked at his report—“and I quote, ‘a backstabbing bastard’. Apparently, everyone thinks Mr Chipping is an obnoxious slacker who rarely does anything at work except live on Grindr. Among other things, he was caught by one of his coworkers banging a guy in the office of a VP who was on vacation. I don’t think a wrongful dismissal due to sexual orientation is at play here.

The company should be able to fire him safely. ”

Charlie looked up from his notes. “I was trying to use only publicly accessible sources but, just to be sure, when I got back here to the office, I hacked into his work computer. I was surprised they had such poor security. Anyway, I found almost nothing that appeared work-related. There was a ton of really hot porn which was downloaded after hours during the time he was billing a client for working overtime—I cross-referenced the download times with his work-time log. The guy is basically an idiot.”

Charlie hesitated before continuing. “What’s creepy, to me at least, is that he also had a computer folder labelled ‘Hunt’. Chipping’s got a ton of info on you, photos saved from news sites and copies of stories about the Ian Mann case.”

“You think he’s a crazy stalker?”

Charlie scowled. “That thought had crossed my mind.”

Declan shrugged. “As long as none of the photos were taken by him personally, I don’t think we have to worry about it.”

Charlie didn’t like the idea that a total stranger was fantasising about his boss…and boyfriend.

Declan glanced down at him and smirked. “I don’t want to sound like a self-absorbed asshole, but that sort of thing does happen on occasion.”

Charlie looked at the gorgeous guy. “Of course it does.”

There was a moment of silence before Declan said, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you, and that’s all I need.”

Charlie’s heart beat a little faster. He smiled and handed Declan the file. “So, I guess once you’ve reviewed this, we can send it off to the lawyers and let them deal with it?”

“Yes. Good work, Charlie. I’ll look at this now before we head out for dinner.”

Charlie watched Declan slowly walk back to his office.

Everything that man does is sexy .

Charlie stared at the stacks of mail, reports, photographs and statements which had all migrated from what had been neat piles into one inbreeding mass on his desk.

There wasn’t even room for him to put a coffee—if he had one, which he desperately needed if he was going to make it through the evening.

He went into the kitchen and made a latte, then sat back at his desk and placed it on the only clear surface—the floor.

Charlie looked at the pile of paperwork and put his hands on his head.

Where do I even begin?

Ever since he’d started working at Declan Hunt Investigations, business had increased.

Declan had given the credit to him. Charlie knew better.

It was just pure, dumb luck. That, and the high-profile cases they had been lucky enough to take on.

Something had happened to the firm’s public image.

When Charlie had first started working here, any mention of Declan in the press was accompanied by a stock picture of his ripped, soot-covered torso as he’d pulled a man from a burning car during a well-reported case.

That image attracted clientele from the gay male and straight female community.

Lately, however, there had been more images of the two of them.

Granted, Charlie had been relegated to the role of ‘cute companion’, but Charlie liked the attention.

Then things had started to devolve. Since Charlie had begun working toward gaining his private investigator’s licence, little things had been falling through the cracks.

Calls weren’t being returned in a timely manner, invoices weren’t being sent out promptly and paperwork wasn’t being submitted to their accountant, Mr Attwal.

He had dropped by just yesterday to find out if he should remove them from his client roster since he hadn’t heard from anyone in a while.

Declan had told Charlie not to worry about it.

He’d said that these were just growing pains as Charlie transitioned into work in the field. Charlie wasn’t so sure.

Declan stepped out of his office and said, “Should we be heading out soon?”

As Charlie spun around to reply, he kicked over his coffee.

“God damn it!” he shouted as he dropped to the floor and began to mop up the mess with what he realised was an outgoing invoice. “Shit!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Declan said. “It’s nothing that can’t be reprinted.”

“That’s not the point!”

Declan came back from the kitchenette with a wad of paper towels. He joined Charlie on the floor and helped him sop up the coffee.

“There. All better,” Declan said.

Charlie muttered, “Not better.”

Declan gently took a hold of Charlie by the shoulders. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

“Just look,” Charlie said motioning to his desk. He fought back tears. “Between my coursework and taking on my own cases, I haven’t been doing my job. Nothing is getting done. If I don’t get invoices out, we won’t have any money coming in, and bills won’t get paid. We’ll end up on the street.”

“I don’t think that’s going to—”

“No!” Charlie snapped. “I’m not doing the company any favours working like this.”

“You’re right,” Declan said. “You can’t do all the admin work when you’re working on cases.”

Charlie crossed his arms. “I don’t know what to do.”

Declan stood up. “I do. I think you’re going to have to find us a new office manager—”

“No,” Charlie interrupted weakly.

“—so you can focus on the cases. Let’s call it a day.

You can start fresh tomorrow morning and clear up any paperwork you can, then get an ad out there.

Your next case, Mr Watts, is to find us an office manager.

Just not one as cute as you. And while you’re at it, why don’t you set up a new workspace for yourself? ”

“Where?” Charlie asked, looking around.

“You could set a desk up over there,” Declan said, indicating the area just outside his door.

“You’d be facing out toward the main room.

That would give you privacy and let you keep an eye on whatever’s happening.

You’d have space for a bookcase and filing cabinets behind you along the wall.

During the day there’s plenty of natural light. ”

Charlie felt a rush of excitement.

Declan continued. “And then, when the bank accounts are a little healthier, we can have someone throw up a wall with a door. I can see the name plate on it—Charlie Watts, Private Investigator.”

“You mean it? Really?”

“You bet. You’ll need privacy.”

Charlie lunged at Declan, throwing his arms around him, toppling them both back to the floor.

The moment was interrupted by the chirp of the alarm system on the ground-level door.

It was a little late for someone to just drop by for a visit.

There was the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs.

They both got to their feet and Charlie instinctively slid around behind Declan as the door opened. A large hulk of a man entered the room.

“Sergeant Hunt,” Charlie said.

“Dad,” Declan said.

Declan took several deep breaths, something Charlie noticed he did whenever his father came through the door.

Something was wrong. The Sarge didn’t just drop around for the hell of it. Charlie gently put a hand on Declan’s back.

“Declan,” the cop started, “you remember Archie Whitcher?”

Charlie could feel the broad muscles in Declan’s back tense.

“Freddy Whitcher’s father,” Declan replied.

“Yeah. Well, I thought you’d want to know that someone killed the son of a bitch late this morning. I got a call from your old partner Gary Sawchuck. He was on the scene.”

“Oh.”

Declan’s voice was emotionless.

“A neighbour called it in. Sawchuck said he’d been beaten, then shot.”

Declan said nothing.

“Sawchuck arrived just before Archie took his last breath.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” Declan said.

“There was one other thing. Just before Archie died, Sawchuck heard him say something that sounded to him like, ‘Tell Hunt it was Milo.’ That mean anything to you?”

“Nope.”

“Anyway, Sawchuck’s tied up with the paperwork, so I said I’d let you know. He thought you’d want to hear it in person. If you think of anything, get in touch with him.”

The two men stood in silence. Charlie wondered how long this stalemate would last before someone blinked first. It was The Sarge.

“Well, I should get going.”

Declan nodded and the sergeant turned, walked out of the office then down the stairs.

Charlie thought of the picture of Freddy Whitcher that Declan kept in his office. He was the kid who had run away from his father’s beatings when his dad had found out he was gay.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked.

“Yup.”

Charlie knew Declan wasn’t okay. “You think you’ll still be up for dinner with Carrie tonight? She’s really looking forward to getting to know you better, and it might help take your mind off…things.”

Declan finally took his eyes off the door. “I’m gonna have to take a rain check. Besides, I don’t think I’ll be great company for the two of you. I’ve got some work I need to take care of.”

“If you want me to stick around, I’ll reschedule,” Charlie offered.

Declan smiled. “No. You two haven’t gone out and raised hell for a while. You deserve the break.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Charlie leaned over and gave Declan a kiss. “Would you mind if I came back here after dinner and spent the night?”

Declan gave him a weak smile. “That’d be nice,” he said, then turned and headed into his office.

Charlie put on his coat and made his way down the stairs. He knew how important this was to Declan, but he wondered if there would ever be a time when life came first and work came second?