Outlined in Ink

Chapter 3-2

The black-and-white awning had seen better days, but the narrow storefront was bright with color, red neon announcing its open all night status, fluorescent posters advertising bands, student groups, and even a dog lover’s club. Through the plate glass window, an old-fashioned jukebox blinked and glittered, a bastion from kinder, gentler times. Not the sort of place he would have expected a nethead like Eli to pick, but charming nonetheless.

Young people filled nearly every booth, every available stool at the curved counter occupied. Jarrett hesitated inside the door. He was a dinosaur here, lumbering into the nest of an exotic new species. He’d loosened his tie in the car, but he really should have taken it off, as well as ditched his suit jacket. He might have passed for a youngish professor then, rather than part of the political machine he was sure more than half of them disparaged.

A few people glanced his way, but the only one that mattered was a blond sitting alone at a booth in the back. The photo hadn’t done Eli Locke justice. Though he’d bleached his hair, the shade complemented his tawny skin. The eyes he fixed on Jarrett smiled as warmly as his mouth did, a honeyed brown that threatened to drown anyone who met them too long. He’d been a cute teenager, but time had chiseled him into a striking young man, the body that rose to greet Jarrett solidly built beneath the faded jeans and tan T-shirt.

“Wow,” Eli said as he approached. He had to look up a little to meet Jarrett’s gaze. “I had completely forgotten how much room you take up.”

Jarrett chuckled and took Eli’s hand in greeting. His grip was strong and dry, and squeezed a beat longer than he would have expected from a colleague. Hell, it was more than what he would have anticipated from a good friend, and he stared at Eli with more than a little surprise as the pressure continued on into his wrist, then wrapped around his arm, shoulder, and upper body in what almost felt like an embrace.

“And I’d forgotten how everything that goes through your brain comes out your mouth,” he said with a smile. He was the first to pull away, and the first to slide into the booth. Eli’s knees brushed against his when he slid onto the bench opposite him, though Eli did nothing to break the brief contact. “You look good.”

The way he blushed was almost pretty, but not any more adorable than the way he c****d his head. “I had no idea you were still in the area. I would’ve sworn you’d move to New York, or LA, or Washington, or something. You were always too good for this place.”

“Nope. Good old Aurora. I’ve got dues to pay before I get to play with the big boys.”

“What’re you doing now?”

“Public relations for the mayor. Which means we cover his ass when he screws up.”

Eli laughed at that, the sound rich and free and shockingly electric. Jarrett didn’t remember this version of him. The Eli he’d known had first been a mass of twisted nerves, anxious and angry and avid, all rolled up into one. The closest Jarrett had ever seen to this had been the newly graduated version, after he’d accepted Jarrett’s small gift. Brad had given him hell for feeding into Eli’s delusions about his art, but Jarrett had ignored him. Nobody in Eli’s life ever gave him encouragement about anything. He didn’t see anything wrong with being a positive influence rather than a negative one.

“Is the Yul Brynner look a req for the job?”

Sheepishly, Jarrett ran his hand over his smooth scalp. He rarely thought about it anymore, unless somebody brought it up. Of course, Eli would comment on it. Jarrett looked a lot different than the last time they’d seen each other. “No, this was something more personal. It doesn’t look that bad, does it?”

“It doesn’t look bad at all,” Eli assured. “You’ve got this whole macho sexy vibe going, especially with the suit.”

“No cape, though.” As soon as the teasing words slipped out, he kicked himself for jumping into the subject of Eli’s obsession so quickly. He’d wanted to finesse his way into the conversation, get Eli to relax first before bringing it up. But Eli had caught him off guard from the very first glance, all grown up into a playful package that would have caught his eye no matter where he’d spotted the young man. It didn’t help he knew Eli was gay, either. That made putting him in scenarios like running into him at a club, asking him for a dance, grinding their bodies together before finding a dark corner to make out in, that much simpler.

The scampishness vanished, taking the charming smiles with it. Lashes ducked, Eli toyed with the edge of the paper ring holding together the napkin-wrapped silverware. “You didn’t write me because you want me to pull the strip, did you?”

“What?” The thought hadn’t even occurred to him, though he’d been too focused on Yager and the murder to consider how the comic might affect him personally. “No, no, why would I do that? You’ve obviously put a lot of work into it.”

Eli looked relieved, abandoning the silverware, though his smile wasn’t quite as easy as it had been. “I didn’t think so, but you know, I wasn’t sure. I mean, I haven’t heard from you in how long? And now you’re a honcho at the mayor’s office—”

“I’m not a honcho. I’m not even a cho.”

“You could ask something like that, though. Other people would.”

Jarrett’s skin crawled at the wariness of Eli’s tone. He wanted Eli back at ease, the way he’d been when Jarrett had arrived. The wall that had come up between them, as half-mast as it might seem, was too much. Even when he’d been young and unknowing—maybe especially because he’d been unknowing—he hadn’t hidden away from Jarrett. How would he find out what the hell was going on if he couldn’t get Eli to trust him? He definitely couldn’t help if the strain between them didn’t go away.

“I’m not other people.” Smiling, Jarrett nudged his foot forward to push gently against Eli’s. “I thought we established that years ago.”

The reminder of that long ago conversation did exactly as he’d hoped. Eli’s eyes widened, then crinkled at the corners, his smile like the sun peeking over the horizon, brilliant and fresh and the Eli he’d once known. There was absolutely no way Eli could be involved in anything like Yager described. It all had to be a huge mistake. Or coincidence. Not the conspiracy the FBI wanted to believe.

“You changed my life,” Eli said. “In a lot of ways.”

Jarrett shook his head. “All I ever did was try and show you that you didn’t have to be alone.”

“You did a lot more than that. You’re the reason I even put the Lockeford Files online. You were the only one who ever thought I could do it.”

“I’m sure there were others.”

“No, seriously, it was just you.”

That kind of focus was uncomfortable, too much on him and not on what he thought was truly important. “But I was right. Look at you. You’ve got your own forum and everything.”

Though he preened a little at the praise, Eli waved it off. “That’s SOP. Everybody with any kind of traffic has a forum.”

At the edge of the table, a slim, tattooed waitress with a purple pixie appeared, smiling brightly. “Hey there, Eli. You here for the usual?”

Eli looked at Jarrett. “You want one of those shakes? I swear to you, I’m not lying about how good they are.” When Jarrett nodded, he beamed up at the waitress. “Make that two, Lonna. Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” With a wink, she whirled and danced away to a group a couple tables over.

“You’ve got a fan,” Jarrett commented when they were alone again.

Eli twisted to look back at the waitress. “Who, Lonna? Nah, she’s just hoping I had a good day. I always leave her a huge tip then.”

“And was it?”

“A good day?” A shadow passed behind Eli’s eyes, so fleeting somebody not trying to read everything he could in Eli’s body language might not have noticed it. Jarrett did. It sent the first frisson of alarm through his body. “Not until I got your email.”

He wanted to ask what could have possibly happened that would make an email from a near stranger the highlight, but Jarrett hesitated to cross that bridge yet. The timing was too fortuitous, especially in light of the FBI’s interest in him, but he sincerely hoped Eli had an alibi for the time of Fong’s murder.

Eli suddenly leaned forward, creating a more intimate space between them. “Why did you write?” he asked, like he’d seen the questions flitting in Jarrett’s mind and wondered what brought them on. “I haven’t been able to figure it out. It’s just so damn random, you know?”

Jarrett put on his best media smile, though he felt like an asshole pretending like this. “So was having a friend call and tell me I need to check out www.lockefordfiles.com. Seeing my face on a superhero might be the very definition of random.”

“And it didn’t offend you?”

“Well, I’ll admit it surprised me. But it’s a little flattering, too.”

“See?” Eli’s burst of excitement was contagious, charging across the distance to sizzle straight into Jarrett’s gut. “That’s what I hoped you’d think. Sovereign’s got his own personality, his own quirks. He’s his own person, but you were the one who got me thinking about him in the first place.”

“You talk like he’s real.”

“Well, he is to me, in a way. I’ve been living with him in my head for a long time, not to mention the way the readers talk about him. It’s just like any character from a book or a movie coming to life when they really resonate with you, you know? Sovereign’s just drawn, not personified by an actor or created with words.”

Passion came through in Eli’s every breath. He was lit up with it, practically quivering in his seat from how much it permeated his very cells. Jarrett had interacted with a few artists in his time, mostly through social functions for the mayor, so he recognized the fervor, but the immediacy of Eli’s eloquence infected him, too, making him wish he’d taken more time to read through the archives before their meeting.

Lonna returned with two huge frosted glasses, overflowing with thick strawberry shakes topped with whipped cream. Chunks of real fruit speckled the pink, and Jarrett’s mouth watered unexpectedly at the sight.

The first bite was heaven. He might even have moaned. When he went for the second, his eyes lifted to find Eli’s watching him, burning bright with anticipation.

“See what I mean? They’re almost better than sex.”

Jarrett buried his spoon to dig out a big bite. “The fact that I have to agree with that either means someone here really knows what they’re doing, or our s*x lives are really, really sad.”

Eli snorted under his breath. “Mine, maybe. There is no way you don’t have every guy in Chicago falling at your feet.”

He wasn’t touching that one with a ten foot pole. It was bad enough he recognized how appealing Eli was. It was even worse to realize he was attracted to him, and that it would take very little to unleash his reactions. Though he and Brad weren’t actually friends anymore, Eli was still untouchable, on the other side of the line Jarrett drew in the sand between them. Jarrett had tried being a friend and mentor to him. That, in and of itself, made pursuing any kind of physical relationship a huge no-no.

Not to mention the fact the FBI was currently hunting him down in connection to murder and major computer crimes.

As he went for his third bite, his phone vibrated in his pocket, the tones of “Fools Rush In” getting louder as he pulled it out.

“Go ahead,” Eli said before he could speak. “I know you’ve got a lot of responsibility.”

“I’ll get rid of whoever it is quickly,” Jarrett promised. He accepted the unknown call and said, “Jarrett Kessel.”

“You should have called.”

The last thing he wanted right then was to hear Yager’s accusatory tone, but the second last thing was to let on to Eli the call was anything to worry about. “I’m sorry,” he replied as honestly contrite as he could muster. “Was I supposed to?”

“Locke contacted you.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because we’re not idiots, Mr. Kessel. Where are you?”

Jarrett glanced across the table. He could tell Yager now and be done with this entire mess. But if he did that, Eli’s opinion of him would change forever. He’d probably accuse Jarrett of setting him up, and as much as Jarrett knew that was the whole point of contacting him in the first place, he hated the prospect of falling so far in Eli’s esteem. He kind of liked the small amount of hero worship Eli bestowed on him. It wasn’t necessarily completely deserved, but at the end of the day, he’d made a difference in Eli’s life, even if it was only a small one. Turning Eli in now before he had a chance to get to the bottom of everything would destroy that.

“In the city with a friend. I’m not at work anymore, you know.”

“And you won’t be back at work until we get what we want.”

“I know that.”

“If you can’t follow through, you do realize we’ll have no choice but to try his family.”

Jarrett rubbed at his eyes. “You’ve made that perfectly clear, yes.”

“Then I suggest you do everything you can to find out where he is.”

“I will—”

“Anything else I can get you tonight, Eli?”

Lonna’s chirpy voice at the side of their table cut through the music in the background, loud enough for Jarrett’s head to snap up when Yager hissed over the line. Before he could say anything, Jarrett disconnected the call, then promptly turned off his phone.

Though he cast Jarrett a curious frown, Eli nodded up at Lonna. “We’re fine, thanks.”

“We’ve got to go.” Jarrett pulled out his wallet and tossed a twenty onto the table. “Now.”

Lonna scooped up the bill. “I’ll be right back with your change.”

“Keep it.” He slid out of the booth, forcing her to dance back out of his way. “Come on, Eli. We need to finish this conversation someplace else.”

“Why?” He followed Jarrett to his feet, though his confusion slowed him down. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain outside.”

The fewer people who overheard, the better. Jarrett marched out of the diner, watching Eli’s reflection in the window in front of him to make sure he was coming, too.

“Do you have to go do some work thing?” Eli asked when they were out on the sidewalk. His lightweight jacket dangled from his hand. When a gust of wind swept along the street, he hastily put it on. “It’s cool if you have to. We can do this some other time.”

“That wasn’t work.” Jarrett scanned up and down the street, wondering if he’d recognize an FBI car if he saw one. They always drove nondescript black sedans in the movies, but at this hour of the night, everything that went by fit that description. He turned back to Eli, only to get swept up in the solemn trust gleaming in his dark eyes. Damn it. This would have been a lot easier if Eli had grown up into a jerk. “You’ve got problems.”

“Well, yeah.” He laughed. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“No, I mean problems. Ever heard of a guy named Duane Fong?”

“I don’t know who…” His voice trailed away, his body stiffening. Eli took a single step away and looked Jarrett up and down, as if he’d never seen him before. “You’re the second person today to say that name to me. What’s going on?”

The second? Jarrett didn’t like the sound of that. He also didn’t like the fact that Eli didn’t deny knowing him.

“Fong’s dead.” He didn’t stop, even though Eli inhaled sharply. “And the FBI thinks you had something to do with it.”