"Isn't it true, Captain Truman, that you were to step into your father's footsteps when he retired, which it seems he did earlier this spring?"
"I chose a different path. My sister is CEO now."
"Your much-younger sister?" He checked the file in his hand. Fuck, it was Nathan's personnel file.
"She's twelve years younger than me with a business law degree and an MBA from Emory down in Georgia. She's the better choice."
"But you have a law degree too."
"Different spectrum. I fail to see what you are fishing for, Agent Morgan. My family dynamics are a well-known fact. Truman Steel went to Natalie with my blessing."
"But that was before your second wife took your trust fund in a very messy divorce. I've looked at your financials. You live a lifestyle far above the salary of a Sheriff's Investigator. The cost of the house you built far exceeded the insurance of the one you lost three years ago, yet you paid cash. And again for a new luxury SUV, a custom motorcycle, exercise equipment, trips to Los Angeles, New York … first class. Clothes. The list goes on."
"It's nice coming from money. I have investments, properties. I know how to live off of what I make. I might not have gone to business school, but that doesn't mean I didn't learn from my father how to play the stocks. Of course having a rich boyfriend is a plus."
Drew watched Morgan as that detail set in. He was clearly startled, referring back to the file.
"You won't find that detail in my file, Morgan. Like I said, I keep my private life private. I keep Quinn's life even more private. But the whole town knows about us. They've always known about us." Nathan stretched in the chair. "So let me help you out: Quinn Anders is my lover. The son of the former Sheriff. Country music superstar. That Quinn Anders. We live on the property my grandfather left me, in a house we paid for together. My trips to LA and New York are usually with him. I like nice cars, and the motorcycle is a new toy. I've got a boat, too, down in Florida at Quinn's mansion in Miami. I have more than one bank account. And yes, I let my ex-wife have nearly five million dollars to guarantee her silence as to my sexual preferences, but I'm not broke. I'm far from broke. So what else you got? Because if you are looking to pin these murders on me, then you are going to need something a hell of a lot more concrete than my being jealous of my sister and my financial situation."
"Where were you two weeks ago?" Morgan was visibly angry. He didn't like being outsmarted, and the fact that Nathan was already tearing his interrogation to shreds wasn't boding well.
"Quinn owns a townhouse in Chattanooga. We spend a weekend there every two or three weeks, just the two of us. No parents, no children. We're usually naked. Why? You want to come visit? Funny, you didn't set my gaydar off, but hey, it's always better with a third. Do you bottom or top?"
"Funny." Morgan was pissed now. Drew couldn't meet Nathan's eyes. Especially with the memory of last night racing through his head, it was all he could do to keep his body from reacting. "Let me tell you what we have so far: nothing but a smart-assed deputy who thinks it's funny to jack me around. The same smart-assed deputy who was lead investigator on all but two of the murders. Explain why your reports are so damned precise. I've never seen reports this tidy. It looks suspicious. You have no alibi for the weekend the two Georgia men were murdered. You have access to Truman Steel. Tell me, Captain Truman, did it turn you on to carve up those poor bastards the same way you were carved up?"
Drew somehow managed to catch Nathan before he lunged across the desk. He wrapped his arms around him, and using strength he didn't know he possessed, he pushed the man against the far wall and held him there.
"Calm down, he's just fishing. He just found your weakness. Calm down. There is no evidence linking you. He's a prick who thinks he sees a link. It's not even circumstantial," Drew whispered in his ear, talking slowly until he felt Nathan's heart rate slow and his breathing return to normal. "Autopsy on the one man in Georgia says he had sex with a woman just before he died. There was blood on his clothes, female DNA. None of your cases are back yet, but it'll be the same."
"Let me go." Nathan laid his hand on Drew's shoulder. His touch was soft, intimate. "I won't go after him, I promise."
"You need to leave before this gets ugly, call your lawyer, your union rep, get them involved, but not here," Drew advised.
"You two Nancy boys about through making out over there?" Morgan found his voice, though it broke on the word Nancy.
"Did you just call me gay?" Drew turned on his fellow agent. "Jesus, Morgan, you fucking bigot, don't make me call DC and have you removed from this case."