Page 23 of Soul of Discretion

Nick sat next to him and drank from his beer bottle. “You realise I can’t talk to you about an ongoing investigation. It’s more what you can tell me that’s the thing.” He quirked an eyebrow. “I have something to ask you too. Something not case related, but it’s driving me crazy.”

Simon lifted his glass in Nick’s direction. “Fire away.”

Nick smiled. “When we’re in bed together, should I be calling you Lord or Sir?”

Simon chuckled. “Oh, you found that out, did you? I wasn’t hiding it, but it’s not how I usually introduce myself when it’s business. Titles get a little complicated and I end up being called all sorts of stupid things. Lord Simon, Lord Bridgeworth, Sir Simon…” He smirked. “Anyway, all you must call me is ‘fuck me harder,’ and I’ll answer to that.”

Nick laughed and Simon enjoyed the sound. A lot. His Mountie was sexy when his face creased in laugh lines and his eyes sparkled.

Right now, however, as much as Simon wanted to climb into bed with Nick, he had business to attend to.

“So,” he said. “Jack’s death. What can you tell me?”

Nick snorted inelegantly. “You have a one-track mind. I can see you won’t be dissuaded until I’ve told you what I can. Which isn’t much,” he warned. “This is still police business.” He shifted around, getting comfortable on the sofa. “Long and short of it is we’ve been watching him for a while, suspecting him of colluding with the mob. We had no idea about the situation in your company though, so that’s news to us. Forensics is still working on the house, to see what they can find.”

“Your investigation might explain a few things about where the company’s money has gone,” Simon mused. “Perhaps Jack was using it to pay off people or contribute toward the racketeering.” He bit his lip, wondering whether to tell Nick about the hacker Josh had arranged to investigate things. He decided Nick could use all the help he could get. “So, my company has appointed the services of someone with specialised experience to try to get to the bottom of it all.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “What kind of specialist?”

Simon shrugged. “Someone who can delve deep down into the banking systems and work—shall we say, autonomously. I’ve been assured she’s exceptionally good at what she does, and if anyone can track the money, this lady can.”

Nick groaned. “You’re talking about a hacker? I can’t agree to that. It’s illegal, even here in good ol’ Canada.”

Simon had been expecting Nick’s admonishment. “Hacker is a strong word. Let’s call her a forensic accountant without boundaries. I assure you, I’ll make sure we don’t bring down NASA or the FBI, but this is my company.” His tone was firm. “I’ll use whatever resources I can to discover what I need to and find out more about what Jack was mixed up in. I hope that it will assist the RCMP solve his murder. If we find anything, I’m sure you have ways of feeding the information I give you back to your bosses in a diplomatic fashion.”

Nick pursed his lips and regarded Simon with his even, glacial blue stare. He appeared to be weighing up the odds and Simon waited. God, Nick was something, Simon thought. Muscled, principled, and that pulse beating in his throat… Simon wanted to lick it.

Finally, Nick nodded. “Fine. It’s not ideal, but I know enough that I can’t stop you if your mind’s made up.” He grinned faintly. “I think I’ve gathered that much about you.”

Simon couldn’t resist it. He shuffled closer to Nick and ran a finger down the warm skin of his throat, lingering on the throbbing beneath. Nick’s breath hitched as his pupils dilated.

“Thank you,” Simon murmured throatily. “I appreciate that. Not that I needed your permission, but at least I feel we won’t end up on opposite sides.”

The urge to kiss Nick grew stronger and he yielded to the desire to press his lips against his Mountie’s. Nick’s response was hot and steamy, his hands sliding around the back of Simon’s head and pulling him closer.

Now this was more like it, Simon thought dazedly, as Nick’s woody scent filled his senses and he suddenly found himself being undressed with dexterity.

His Mountie had clever hands, and as they closed around Simon’s cock and coaxed it to full mast, all he could think about was this moment, right now, when nothing else mattered.

****

Nick whistled softly as he shuffled the paperwork on his desk from one corner to the other. Last night with Simon had been a lot of fun, and the memories of their sex-filled evening still lingered, as did his aching muscles from being almost bent double while Simon thrust into him.

“That grin on your face had better be you solving my case, Sergeant Cooper, and not memories of whoever you were with last night,” Inspector McKenzie’s voice boomed across the office. Nick looked up, face flushed.

He was “out” at work, but believed it was his business alone who he slept with. He didn’t want his sexuality to factor in his career. Unfortunately, while McKenzie couldn’t have cared less who Nick slept with as long as he got the job done, some of his colleagues were a little less tolerant.

“I was reading through some of the witness statements, sir, and wondering whether a homeless man drunk on some sort of potato wine was a reliable one.” Nick picked up a sheet of paper and waved it at McKenzie. “Whoever killed Jack Teeman missed him lying snuggled up in that storm drain. I was wondering whether we needed to put the witness into protective custody.”

The inspector perched his ample backside on the corner of Nick’s desk. “There’s no way in hell we’ll get the powers that be to agree to babysit a street person. And his statement is a little suspect anyway.” McKenzie scowled. “The man claims he saw a man with snakes for hair, and wearing a long black jacket like the Crow reincarnated, dump the body. Now I ask you, does that sound rational?”

Nick eyed the statement thoughtfully. “It does sound a little far-fetched but I’ve learnt that sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. And Booth Joseph Halliwell, street dweller and drinker of toxic waste, is our only lead so far.”

He didn’t mention anything about Simon’s hacker or the fact that the woman, called Jackie, had already made inroads into the missing money. Simon had texted him at around seven this morning to tell him things were looking promising, although they still had a long way to go.

McKenzie sighed. “You may be right. But I still won’t be able to get official protection for Mr Halliwell. The best I can do is have a patrol car stop around as often as I can and check on him. Maybe we can even get the man into a shelter. He’d be better off there anyway. I’ll talk to Social Services, see what they suggest.”

Nick supposed that was the best he was going to get. McKenzie moved away to talk to another colleague then turned back suddenly. “When we getting the autopsy report, Sergeant? Did you chase it up?”