“Sure. No problem.” Lawrence gave him a brief smile. “Sorry this happened to you, Mr. Baxter. The detectives will ask you some questions now.”
“Thank you,” Cliff said, wishing them gone. He watched as the two officers left, and then it was only Paul and Rob.
“Glad you’re okay, Cliff. Paul, I’m gonna go check the living room, see if I can find the bullets.” He left them, and Cliff understood Rob wanted to give them a few minutes to themselves. Paul led him to the rear of the house.
“Are you really okay? No glass cuts or anything?” Paul’s eyes searched his as his hands ran over Cliff’s arms.
“Yeah, I’m okay, but holy hell, I was scared.”
“Dammit.” Paul pulled him close, and Cliff clung to his broad shoulders for a second before they broke apart. It wasn’t until that moment that Cliff realized how much he needed Paul’s strength. “I thought my head was gonna explode when you called.”
“I’m okay. Just a little shaken.” More cars drove up, and Paul tensed and drew away from him. “Paul, what am I going to say if they start asking questions about who lives here, or anything else personal?”
Steady, dark-blue eyes met his. “You tell them the truth. Anyone has any problems, they can come to me.”
He hung his head. “I didn’t want it to be like this.”
Paul rested his hands on Cliff’s shoulders. “Hey. It’s not your fault. You’re the victim. We’re going to find out what’s going on. Maybe there’s no connection, but there’s something I should’ve mentioned before. This past month I got two threatening notes on the windshield of my car. Now after this, I’m beginning to wonder.”
His pulse spiked. “What do you mean, threatening? And why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t think it was anything at first. There’ve only been the two, and they both said the same thing: ‘I see you.’ I thought it might be a prank, but…” He rubbed his jaw, and his eyes and mouth hardened. “Now I’m not so sure.”
Surprised by this information, Cliff cocked his head. “You should’ve told me. I have a right to know.”
“You’re right, I should’ve, and I’m sorry. I was trying to protect you.” Footsteps sounded on the front steps. “That’ll be the forensics team. I have to talk to them and anyone else out there who might’ve seen someone.” Paul touched his face for a brief moment, then left.
Cliff hung back, watching the forensics team canvass the living room. He counted three people: two men and a woman. One was taking measurements of the distance between the window and the glass fragments, another was picking up shards of glass and placing them in bags, and the third was speaking to Paul. Through the broken window, Cliff saw Rob had begun to question people in the crowd. The man talking to Paul kept shooting Cliff looks.
Did he guess that Paul lives here?
“Cliff?”
He broke out of his thoughts to find Paul waving him over. He joined the two men.
“Manny, this is Cliff Baxter. Cliff, not sure if you met Manny Rodriguez, our head of Forensics, during the Jerry Gregoria murder investigation.”
“Don’t think so,” Cliff said, and they shook hands.
“We’re going to be here a while, looking for the bullets. Can you tell me where you were when the second shot was fired?”
“Right there.” Cliff pointed to the space next to the couch. Glass lay scattered all around the area except for the narrow space where he’d ducked down.
“Okay, thanks.” Manny’s smile was brief and impersonal, revealing nothing. Paul too seemed unperturbed. “My team and I will be taking measurements as well as photographs, inside and out.”
“Whatever you need,” Cliff said. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
At that he received another professional smile, and Manny left them to join his team, now searching the area around the long couch.
“I think…maybe I should go out back and let you and the guys do your thing. Plus, I have to figure out what to do about the window repair.”
“Good idea. I’m sure once they’re finished, you can get someone over. It’s a standard window. Hopefully they’ll have it in stock. Thanks for handling this.”
“Okay. But I guess dinner is off tonight?” He’d been looking forward to getting together with everyone.
“Up to you, but I can’t say for sure when I’ll be able to get home. Talk to you later.” With a pat to his arm, Paul left the house to join Rob outside.
For a few minutes, Cliff stood and watched the team, seeing the exact moment when they discovered the bullets. One was buried in the frame of the couch and the other in the wall. Cliff shivered, thinking about what might’ve happened if he’d been lying there. Despite that, he was fascinated to get the chance to see them work at digging out the bullets and slipping them into evidence bags.
None of that was getting his window fixed, though, so he left them to their work and called the window-supply company. He’d ordered from them when he first moved in and redid the windows, and the clerk assured him they had the size in stock.
“Just call and let us know when to come by to install it. Shouldn’t take too long.”
“Thanks, Jeff.”
“No problem, Cliff. Glad to hear you weren’t hurt.”
“Me too.”
He sat at the kitchen island, pondering what Paul had told him. It annoyed him that Paul still felt he had to protect Cliff from the big bad world.
“I can take care of myself,” he muttered, and though he knew better, he left the house through the kitchen door and circled around to the front. Paul was still talking to the neighbors, while Rob was walking down the middle of the street, checking the skid marks Cliff knew hadn’t been there yesterday when he’d come home. One of the forensics team was taking pictures and measurements.
One of their neighbors, Judy Swanson, twittered, “Oh, Cliff, I’m so glad you’re all right, dear.”
“I’m fine, thanks. Scary, for sure.”
“Oh my word, yes. Such commotion.” Judy liked to think of herself as “the eyes and ears of the community,” while her husband good-naturedly corrected her as being “more like the neighborhood gossip.”
When he’d moved in, she’d welcomed him with a casserole and her granddaughter’s telephone number, and when he told her he was gay, she merely blinked and said, “Well, then you wouldn’t be interested, would you?”
Gossips like her he could deal with.
“Did you see anything? Have you talked to the detectives?”
“Not yet. I’m going to talk to them now.” She lowered her voice. “Such a nice man. You made a good choice, dear. Everyone wants a big strong man to protect them.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I better go talk to them, then I have to get back to Father. I’ll drop by later to make sure you’re okay.”
She fluttered away, and Cliff remained where he was. Paul had a savior complex, and Cliff knew it had to do with losing his brother. He couldn’t help his need to protect Cliff, and while Cliff understood to a point, he refused to be shielded from what was happening around them. If they weren’t on equal footing in their relationship, they’d never survive. It might be time to have that talk he’d been putting off.