A Hot Mess - 6. Chapter 6 – Clueing in

On his second Wednesday in the city Travis drove to his new apartment, after work. He had finalized it over the weekend and ordered some basic pieces of furniture online. Movers had come and left the mattress in his bedroom earlier in the day. He was looking forward to spending the first night in his new abode.

As soon as he got in, he took a tour to reacquaint himself with the place. There were boxes of books and IKEA packs lying around in the living room. The apartment itself was not very big - one bedroom, a sizeable hall, open renovated kitchen and a small balcony with a view of Mt. Hood. It was still bright enough for him to see the snow topped mountain. After admiring the sight for a bit he walked into the bedroom and promptly fell face down on the uncovered bed.

It had been a long week since Jason had left on his vacation. The case had turned out to be a fucking conundrum. As he had suspected Mike had admitted to the sequence of events his friend had described earlier. He admitted he had acted out of fear of his father. They had been having differences at the time and learning of the incident would have prompted his old man to cancel a planned Eurotrip with friends. Travis had tried to find out the whereabouts of the gun but Mike said he had thrown it into the river. As for his hiding place, he said he had used his uncle’s summer house in California. He knew no one would look there as the said uncle and family were vacationing in South America. He had been caught while buying groceries at a store some fifteen miles from the place. On paper it all made sense, but Travis was finding the explanations too neatly wrapped without indicting anyone else.

Right after they stepped out Detective Smith had pounced,

“So, Officer? Still think Mike is innocent?”

“I don’t know.” Travis answered distractedly.

“And you’ll never know. In the meantime, I would have built my case and closed it.” Saying so she had walked away, leaving the young investigator wondering if he really was barking up the wrong tree.

For the rest of the week he had tried to understand the suspect better. He tried to talk to Mike’s school friends, teachers, ex-girlfriends, anyone who was willing to be questioned. In the process he came to know that Mike did most things in fear of his father. He always had goals to meet and records to maintain which Dayton Baker, who travelled for work three weeks a month, checked regularly. The senior Baker was an important man. He was in Zurich at the time of his son’s arrest. He was paying for the lawyer yet had not shown up to see a son who was facing murder charges. His wife, Mike’s stepmother was also out of the country, in London. Mike’s biological mother had passed away when he was ten. There was a part of Travis that felt sorry for the boy. No one was there in his corner. While it gave credence to the story of why he pulled the gun, it also made Travis feel that there were layers to this case that had not been peeled yet.

Travis also spent time with the Forensics. The angle at which the fatal bullet had entered the victim’s body, she had to have been standing sideways to the shooter. It was possible for her to have caught the bullet while running away from Mike but Travis was still doubtful of the angle the gun was being held at during the scuffle. He had visited the crime scene himself to no use. It had been months since the event. If at least one solid incriminating evidence turned up he was willing to accept Mike as the culprit. So far, as far as he was concerned, there were none. Things were becoming frustrating. Dayton Baker was coming in for questioning the next day, so hopefully some angle would open up.

His stomach growled and Travis raised himself from the bed with a groan. Idea of Mediterranean food sounded really good right then. He had spotted a bistro nearby when he was driving up, with tables out in the front where people could enjoy the weather with food and wine. He got fresh and changed into a pair of shorts and t-shirt before making the small walk out in the fast fading light. All the other tables were occupied by people in pairs or larger groups. Travis was used to occupying table for one and did not make much of it. A few appraising stares did come his way from other guests as well as pedestrians, many of them male.

Instead of drawing his attention, what those appraisers did was make him think of Jason. Not just the man but the detective. What would he do in a case like this? After placing the order Travis looked around for some inspiration, unable to shake off the case. One of the cars that drove by seemed to be driven by a Sergeant look-a-like. Of course he was imagining things; the man was out in the bay somewhere. ‘Now I am seeing him when he isn’t around.’ Travis chuckled. ‘Oh boy. I’m hungry or what?’

Thankfully the food arrived and Travis dove right in, trying to drive away the thoughts of his hunky boss. He had not let himself wallow too much about Jason. Work and moving in had kept him from fueling his enamor, as had the grimness of the Sergeant in face of his attentions. Travis knew how his boss might be thinking about the impropriety of things but in his heart he believed Jason was interested. Much like the case, if he could only get a solid yes or no, Travis could move on. The desperation of his situation was released on the kabob that he was cutting.

“Chopping them a bit too fine there, don’t you think?” came a voice that made Travis drop his knife. He looked up and sure enough, there he was, the object of his affections standing right in front of him. Wait a second, was he grinning? Jason never smiled at him. All the tiredness, all the frustration disappeared in front of that beautiful, blinding sight. By the time Jason took the opposing chair Travis, definitely confused, was smiling from ear to ear nevertheless.

“I like the lamb they serve here.” Jason said. The waitress placed a menu in front of him and gave him a smile. It appeared he was a known individual, which was not surprising.

“What are you doing here?” Travis asked finally, after Jason’s glass had been filled with water. Jason laughed again. Gosh, it was easy to get used to the sound of it, Travis thought.

“Decided to cut the vacation short. My son wanted to go see his grandmother.”

“And you came back?”

“Evidently.” With a straight face he then asked, “Are you disappointed?”

What the hell? Was he flirting? It threw Travis off. He got some time to collect himself as the waitress returned to take Jason’s order.

“Go ahead, eat your food. No need to wait for me.”

“Fuck the food. What’s going on here?” The younger man as expected was not one for beating around the bush.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“I’ve always been nice to you.”

“No. You’ve never smiled at me before. You’ve made me feel like shit all this time.”

“Have I?” Jason asked with his poker face. He was enjoying it too much.

“You know what?” Travis threw his napkin on the table. “At work you’re my boss. I don’t have to take your condescending tone here.”

“Sit down!” Jason ordered challengingly, getting into a staring contest with the younger man.

“Give me a reason to.”

“I read your latest update on the case. That’s the reason why I drove down tonight.”

Travis bit the inside of his mouth. “You could have talked to me in the morning.”

“Sure, but I saw you sitting here and I was hungry. There’s nothing in the fridge back home.” Jason shrugged. Travis had never seen the big man shrug either. He had been very articulate with him, both in words and silences. The waitress arrived with Jason’s food and stood there shifting on her feet. Sensing that he needed to relax a bit, Travis sat back down.

After she had left he said, “I don’t want to talk about the case. It’s been driving me nuts.”

Jason noticed that his officer’s lower lip was almost jutting out. “That’s a good idea, I’m starving.” He complied.

Neither man said another word, much less look at each other during the rest of the meal. When the check was brought, Jason went for it. “Let me get it.”

“Why?”

“To make up for treating you like shit, as you put it.”

With some food inside him Travis's spirits were rising. He accepted the gesture with his impish smile. One Jason was happy to finally be graced with. Paying in cash the tall man stood up to his full height.

“You live nearby?” he asked.

“Four blocks up from here. That way.” Travis pointed “Moved in tonight, in fact.”

“Really? Good... This is a good neighborhood."

"Definitely."

Seeming a bit unsure of himself, Jason asked, "If you don’t mind I can walk you to your building, I parked my car up the street.”

“Sure.”

As they started walking, conversation seemed awkward.

“So live in this area too?”

“About half a mile from here.”

Pause.

“It’s a very nice area.”

“That's right." Jason had to think hard to engage Travis, "Did you check out a lot of places before taking this?”

“Not really. Didn’t want to spend a whole lot of time on it.” Travis replied.

“I can imagine.”

Finally they arrived at the gate to Travis’s apartment building. The younger man was clearly unsure as to what he should do here. He turned around to face Jason, wide blue eyes shining in street light. “This is me.” He said. He would have offered a night cap if there were any alcohol in the house.

Jason again had a smile on his face, not quite the smug one he had when he surprised his young admirer. “Great” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

They both stood there looking at each other.

“Alright, let’s call it a night, officer.” Travis’s face fell, something Jason did not miss. He moved to turn away, then stopped, “Oh and Travis” he added, watching a smile that he was beginning to long for reappear. “About the case. What do we know about the girl? That’s a blank page at this time.”

The case was the farthest thing from Travis’s mind. Jason was smiling at him, buying him dinner, walking him to his door, calling him by his name. ‘Fuck the case’ he thought as his boss said “Good Night” and returned the way they had come. ‘Wait a minute. He said his car was parked this way.’ The implications were going to do the already smitten man’s head in. ‘Did he walk all this way just to give me a suggestion about the investigation?’

Making his way up the elevator a single worded answer to that question kept repeating in his head. As much an assessment as wishful thinking, two letters were echoing through his mind – No.