Jamie Brodie 02 - Hoarded to Death

had some work to do, then we watched a little TV. I was yawning my head off by 9:00. Pete dragged me to bed and I fell in.
    Our sex life had suffered since Christmas. We were still practicing our “other skills,” but the frequency of our practice had dropped from four or five times a week to about two. I was hesitant to initiate anything, and Pete didn’t seem to be in the mood very often. But tonight he was, and pretty soon he had me stirred up too. Everything was fine until he rolled me over on my back. Oh yay, the missionary position again . The thought flashed through my head so fast that I barely recognized it; most of my attention was focused on my dick. But I must have twitched, or made a face, or something, because Pete raised up on his arms and said, "What?"
    "What, what? Nothing."
    He gave me a look, but I reached down and took hold of his dick, and pretty soon he forgot about "what."
    Afterward, Pete fell asleep almost immediately, with his head on my chest. I went to sleep pretty quickly too, but I had one last thought before I did.
    This therapy had better work.

    The next day, Jon called at 12:30. “I’m running about 15 minutes late. Is that a problem?”
    “Nope. Call me when you get here.”
    At 1:00, Kevin texted me. “On my way. Tell Eckhoff ballistics from Brashier match Wallace and Lindsey.” Jon called again at 1:10. “I’m outside.” I went out and got in the car; he was driving an unmarked LAPD car today. “Sorry I’m late. Got hung up in a meeting with the lieutenant.”
    “No problem. ” I gave him Kevin’s message. “So, what’s the plan?”
    “I figure we’ll go easy. Tell him about Brashier, tell him we’re looking at all of Brashier’s business associates, and ask him for an alibi. If he gives us one, we say thank you and call it a day. I’ll check it out, and if it doesn’t pan out, Kevin and his partner can go back and ask him nicely to come in for a lineup. If he refuses, they’ll take him in for questioning.”
    I nodded. “Sounds easy enough.”
    Famous last words.
    We were at a stoplight on San Vicente when Jon’s radio came to life. “A ll units, shots fired.” She rattled off an address that sounded very familiar. “Customer being held at gunpoint. Suspect believed to be the business owner. Suspect armed and dangerous. SWAT responding.”
    I looked at Jon in horror at the same time he looked at me. “That’s Kendall’s shop.”
    “ Shit! ” Jon hit the lights and siren and pulled out into the next lane over. He eased through the red light and we started flying. When we got near Kendall’s address, the patrol cars already had the area blocked off. Jon slammed the car into park, checked his weapon, and got out. “Stay here.”
    “Yes, sir.” I had no intention of getting any closer to whatever was happening down the block. I could see a cop with a bullhorn and heard the sound but couldn’t distinguish his words. In another minute, the SWAT van pulled up behind Jon’s car, and the SWAT team piled out and scrambled into position. I could see Jon, talking to one of the cops that was standing back a bit from the others. Eventually, Jon started back toward me. He opened the door and leaned in. “It’s Kendall with the gun, all right. A customer walked in and found him holding a gun on a woman. When the customer saw him, Kendall shot at the customer and missed, then grabbed the woman and put the gun to her head. The customer bolted and called 911.”
    “Whoa.” I was stunned. In spite of what Paulo had said, I still hadn’t completely believed that Kendall had anything to do with the murders. “So it’s not looking good for Kendall.”
    “No. The question is, who’s this customer that he’s holding a gun on?”
    “ Another accomplice?”
    “Don’t know. We may not find out until this is resolved, and that might take a while. He’s refusing to come out. Can Pete come pick you up?”
    “Yeah, probably. I’ll text him.” I sent the text – “Call me asap” – then peered out the windshield again. There seemed to be some action near the front of the store. Jon still had his door open, and I could hear the bullhorn voice clearly now. “Kendall McEwen. Let the woman go. Drop your weapon and come out. We can resolve this peacefully. No one has to get hurt.”
    No response.
    Another fifteen minutes passed. There was no sign of Kevin. I thought he might be at the other end of the block, or maybe he hadn’t gotten here yet. The guy