The Harlequin - 22. Chapter 22

A cool sensation ran through his head as Adam’s eyes flickered open and he saw Justin looking at him.

“Hey, welcome back boss.” He smiled.

“Hey yourself,” Adam said weakly. His head and neck hurt. He sat up and saw that he was on the couch in his reception room. “What—why am I here?” Then it all raced back to him. The killer had him in the elevator. He looked at Justin and grabbed him. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, boss, I’m fine.”

“He saved your life, Adam,” said A.J. walking out of his office followed by Cutter.

Adam rose to his feet, still shaken from his attack, Justin helped him steady himself by letting Adam lean on his shoulder.

“What the hell are you two doing in my office?” he demanded.

“Adam, the killer was in your apartment. I saw him scale the alley wall and jump onto the fire escape just below your bathroom window like something from the movies. He wall-jumped from Gavin’s building to this one until he reached our ladder and climbed into the window. He was fast,” said Justin.

“So he didn’t hurt you?” Adam said again, wanting to be sure,

“No, I ran out to find you, and ran into the two detectives and told them. They said you had already taken the elevator up,” said Justin.

“When we reached you, he had already escaped. We have men checking next door now,” said Cutter, sounding like he had a cold due to the tissues rammed up his nostrils from Adam’s punch in the face. He kept his distance from Adam as A.J. drew near.

“Now your life is in danger,’ said A.J.

“I’m fine.”

“Damn it, Adam! If he could get into your apartment, that means he must be desperate to cover his tracks.”

“You still think Patrick is orchestrating all of this?”

“Someone sent him.”

“Yeah, himself.” Fed-up with arguing, he handed the cloth that Justin placed on his forehead back to his assistant, and turned to the detectives.”

“Thank you both, but now I just want to lay down and rest. So can you leave?”

“Adam, maybe you should stay somewhere else until we catch the persons involved.”

“I’m not an ordinary civilian, A.J. I was in the military and severed as cop. I can take care of myself,” Adam snapped.

“Like you did in that elevator?” A.J. snapped back.

“Go, alright—just go!”

“Come on A.J.,” said Cutter, touching his lower back. “There’s no getting through to him.”

“That’s right; I’m reckless and have a death wish so leave me to it.” He directed his statement to A.J., who wore the same look of sorrow when he told Adam that he had been having an affair and that he was leaving him. Adam wasn’t going to relive that day, not for him—not again. “Justin, show them out.” He stormed off into his office and slammed the door behind him.

Justin flinched from Adam’s behavior, but took a deep breath and turned to the detectives.

“Thank you for your help, detectives,” he said as he crossed to the door and opening it. “Have a nice day.”

“A word of advice to you. Don’t come back here until this is over. For your own protection,” said Artie.

“Good advice, detective. Thank you.”

Artie handed Justin his card. A.J. did the same.

“If anything odd happens again, please call us, day or night,” said A.J.

“I will, goodbye.” Justin shut the door.

Adam watched out the front window of his apartment as A.J. and Cutter exited his building and returned to Gavin’s building. He raced downstairs and rushed to Justin, who was behind his desk.

“Justin, we have lots to do.”

“What’s that, boss?”

“First, sorry for the yelling and banging. I needed to get them out of here. I know where Patrick is, and I’m going to see him.”

“Okay, I have the information on Patrick and Gavin Martin. You still want it?” asked Justin.

“Yes, fill me in,” Adam said, lying back down on the couch to rest his sore neck and head.

“First, Patrick Valdez’s family goes back to the fifteenth and sixteenth century to the Castile and of Aragon, old money. He was born prematurely, homeschooled, and has an IQ of 168. He earned his bachelor degree in computer science engineering at the young age of fifteen.”

“He’s a wealthy genius.”

“An insane, wealthy genius. He’s from a different world than us. Rules don’t always apply to his kind. By the way, my IQ is 142.”

Adam glanced over at Justin and saw his condescending smirk.

“I will not get into a brains war with you, go on.”

“His interests are swimming, surfing and snowboarding. When he turned eighteen, he lived abroad. He’s won Cosplay competitions dressed as female characters. The pictures of him were hot. I mean, if you like guys dressed as a girl.”

“He does pull it off well.”

“And you already know he’s the sole heir to his family’s fortune. Now Gavin Martin is another story. Both his mothers are lawyers—one a prosecuting attorney and the other an environmentalist lawyer. Both workaholic. He went to an Ivy League school and earned a business degree. Nothing else special with his grades. He bought that building when he graduated college.”

“So he’s earning money with the art store?”

“His site is getting bad reviews for poor customer service, false advertising, and poor produce. It's going belly up.”

“So how does he pay his bills?”

“How else?”

“Sugar Cub.”

“Patrick must have been paying Gavin’s tabs around town.”

“That guy at the Cave mentioned Gavin was going to marry Patrick. But Patrick just referred to Gavin as a friend, not fiancé.”

“Maybe Gavin hadn’t popped the question yet.”

“I need to go.”

“I’ll hold down the fort.”

“No, I want you to take one of the laptops home with you and work from there. Do you have a printer?”

“Yeah, but boss—”

“A.J. and Artie were right. It’s not safe here for us until they catch the killer. So, I’ll drive you home and call you later.”

“It’s okay boss I drove here, but—what if the detectives were right about Patrick? The cards are stacking against him?”

“I’ll find out the truth.”

“But what if he is working with the killer?”

"It’s true the killer caught me off guard, and it seems he’s desperate, but I believe Patrick is still in danger. I’m on my guard from here on out.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good because I don’t want to have to explain your demise to your family.”

“I would never do that to you. Maybe Artie, but not you.”