Page 16 of Nothing But the Night (Basic Instincts 2)

Benito tilted his head, a smirk hovering on his lips. “Your statement raises more questions than it answers.”

“I told your officer everything that happened from the moment we arrived. We didn’t see anyone else in the building and no one left after we went back outside. Whoever did this was either long gone when we got here, or there’s a back way out.”

“You were here on an investigation? What’s it about?”

“I’m looking for information on someone that Dan used to know. He told me to drop by after his shift and he’d tell me what he could. It was nothing important. Clearing up a few details, that’s all.”

Benito’s face was emotionless. He stared at Jason. Oldest trick in the book. Create an uncomfortable silence until the target feels compelled to fill it with more information. Jason returned the stare, his lips pressed tight. He could play this game as well as anyone.

“Ah, fuck it,” Benito said at last. “Take him home. But make sure you’re both available tomorrow morning. Someone will be in touch to take a fuller statement. And it had better be more worthwhile than the bullshit you’ve given us tonight.”

“Will do,” he said, attempting to put some reverence into his voice while having none.

Jason hurried back to the car and Marc.

Chapter Seven

Urgent Relief

It was after two when Marc pulled up in front of Jason’s apartment building. Neither of them had said much on the drive back from the gym.

“How do you feel now?” Jason asked.

Marc kept his hands on the wheel and stared out of the window at the quiet street. “Honestly?” he released a huge sigh. “I have no fucking idea. Numb. Frazzled. Wired. Exhausted.”

“Yes,” Jason said. “Me too.”

They sat in silence again. Jason made no move to get out of the car and Marc was in no rush to hurry him on. The prospect of driving home to the empty house was something he’d rather delay. At last, he turned to face Jason. His face was set in a grim expression. “I could do with a drink,” Marc said. “Is anywhere around here still open?”

“Not tonight,” Jason said. “Pull around the corner and you can park. I’ve got plenty of booze upstairs.”

He followed Jason inside and they took the elevator to the seventh floor. The apartment was much as Marchad imagined from these new developments, with a large open plan kitchen and living area. The curtains were open, revealing a small balcony. The lights of the opposite bank glistened on the ink black river. Marc was in no mood to compliment the interior or the view.

Jason disappeared for a moment, before returning with a pile of towels. He handed one to Marc. “Give me your jacket. I’ll hang it up to dry.”

Marc suspected the wool-blend blazer was already ruined, but did what he was told, before rubbing the towel over his head. His feet were wet too. Without waiting for permission, he took off his socks and shoes and dried his cold toes with the towel.

Jason came back, minus his own jacket. His damp T-shirt clung to his torso. Despite everything that had happened tonight, Marc noticed his nipples, hard little bullets poking at the sodden cotton.

Jason went behind the counter and opened the fridge. “What do you want?”

“I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

Jason pulled out a bottle of vodka and an ice tray. “I’ve got Coke or tonic,” he said, dumping ice into two heavy crystal tumblers and half filling them with spirt. He put a tiny splash of Coke into his own glass before the putting the mixers on the top for Marc to help himself.

Marc’s mind flashed on the memory of Dan lying dead in a pool of his own blood. He’d only ever seen one dead person before. That had been his husband on his hospital death bed, and later in the chapel of rest. Jack had died too soon, taken by a virus the government had allowed to get out of control, but Dan…Jesus. The terror that boy must have gone through in the moments before the end.

Marc ignored the mixers and took his drink neat. The vodka seared his throat on the way down, but he welcomed its fiery intensity.

Jason came out from the behind the counter and wandered to the window. Rain lashed against the glass. “Will this ever fucking stop?” he mumbled, taking a deep swallow.

Marc took in the fine shape of his silhouette. His broad shoulders, tight middle and waist, his beefy butt. He wondered with indifference why he would even notice those things, then his mind leapt onto the next grim memory of Dan.

Marc and the family had been advised against seeing Theo’s body after the crash. The police had other ways to identify him and had spared his nearest from that ordeal. Would Dan’s family be given the same respect?

He joined Jason at the window. The nightscape of the city looked so serene.

“Somewhere out there is the killer.” His voice sounded cold. Alien to his own ears.

---