Those Golden Eyes

By J.W. Smith

Chapter 5

Tim had been on duty just over three hours. He looked up from his desk and saw Dave Gates approaching across the street. He looked at his watch; it was eleven minutes after six. He stood up, stretched and walked around the desk to greet Dave at the door. He enjoyed his little chats with him every evening. Dave treated him as an equal, made him feel good about himself. That was something he'd never gotten much of at home. He insisted that Tim call him Dave, not Mr. Gates. Even Mr. Paolini had insisted that Tim start calling him Joe after Dave moved in with him. Tim felt a great affection for these two men.

The phone rang and he turned to pick it up just as he heard a car come to a screeching stop outside. He ran to the door and saw Dave being forced at gun point into an old beat-up Olds 88. He dropped the phone, pulled his gun and ran out the door toward the car. The abductor threw a manila envelope towards him, as he ran around the car, jumped in and peeled out, leaving Tim coughing in the smoky exhaust.

Tim was afraid to shoot for fear of hitting Dave. He holstered his weapon, pulled out his cell phone and called 911. He gave the police dispatcher a full description of the man, the make, description and year of the car and the licence plate number. He told the operator about the envelope laying in the driveway. Within two minutes there was an officer on the scene. Within ten there were six police cruisers parked in and around the entrance to the Tower. They knew this would be a high profile case being involved one of the wealthiest men in the world and one of the most famous and well photographed architects in the country. Det. John Paolini and his partner, Det. Paul Hanson were immediately assigned to the case. They pulled up in their beat up old dark blue Ford Crown Victoria right after the local patrol cars.

The police officert in charge filled them in, pointing out Tim, who stood inside at the window watching. Johnny looked over at Tim and their eyes connected. Paul noticed that Johnny wasn't listening. He grinned at Johnny, who looked like he had been shell shocked, and suggested that they check the report that Tim had already filled out and then interview him to see if he could come up with any more details. While Paul read the report aloud to him, Johnny kept glancing into the building at Tim,. Paul couldn't help but see the interaction between the two men. He nodded to himself. He had long suspected that this was what was the matter with Johnny. He'd been looking to the wrong sex to find fulfillment. Paul also suspected that if anything happened between the two men it would be a rocky and rough road ahead. Johnny still had a hard battle to fight with himself before he admitted to himself that he was attracted to the handsome young man staring back at him.

Tim was taking courses at the university to major in crime prevention. He'd wanted to be a policeman since he was a little kid. It thrilled him to be the center of attention with the handsome men in uniform. But the moment that the two detectives in plain clothes ran up and Tim looked into Detective John Paolini's eyes he forgot all about the uniforms. He shook Det. Hanson's hand and then took Johnny's and forgot about letting go. It was fortunate that he'd already given all the pertinent information before that, because his mind turned to jelly, his knees grew weak and his uniform got a little tight below the waist.

~~~~

Joe left downtown in his little red Ferrari. It was a warm evening so he put the top down. As he approached the university he noticed a news helicopter circling the Tower and wondered why. As he arrived at the Tower he saw a bunch of Police cruisers parked in and around the portico in front of the building. He hurriedly parked in the garage and ran into the lobby. He saw his brother and Paul standing just outside the front door talking to Tim. He rushed over to them. When Tim saw him he started apologizing."I saw it happening and couldn't get out there in time. I'm so sorry, Joe, I just wasn't fast enough."

"What are you talking about?" He turned to his brother. "What happened, Johnny?"

Johnny squeezed Tim's arm to quiet him. "Dave was abducted, Joe. They left a ransom note. The guys from evidence have it." He pointed at an officer holding a manila envelope. Joe took a deep breath and pushed down the knot that suddenly welled in his throat before he walked over to the officer, followed by his brother. "I'm Joe Paolini, Dave Gates is my partner. May I see the note, please?"

The officer looked from Joe to Det. Paolini who nodded consent. He handed the envelope to Joe. Joe's hands were rock steady as he took it, but Johnny knew that it was just a matter of time before he started coming apart. Joe extracted and read the crudely printed note.

gates,

if you want to see your lover again

have $2 million in a plain suitcase

ready to deliver.

stay by your fone for more instructions.

Joe's hand fell to his side and the note fluttered to the ground unnoticed by him. "It was supposed to be me. Stupid jerk got the wrong man." he muttered, his eyes unfocused.. The officer that had handed Joe the note picked it up and put it back in the envelope. Johnny grabbed him around the waist as his legs started to give way. He could see that his brother was on the edge of collapsing. He looked around and located his partner. "Paul, I'm taking Joe upstairs. Follow us or wait down here." Joe's whole body was quivering, he'd all but collapsed onto his younger brother. Paul hurried over and with an arm around his childhood buddy, he accompanied them into the private elevator.

As the door closed Joe's quivering turned to the shakes. Johnny hugged him to his chest."It's going to be okay, Bro. We'll find him" Paul rubbed his hand up and down Joe's back. They'd been best of friends since their freshman year in high school. "Tim had a complete description of the man, the car and the licence plate. An APB was put out before he could have been three blocks from here. We'll find him."

"What if they kill him? She hates him enough to have him killed, Johnny. I heard her threaten to get him one way or another. God, she's mean enough to have him tortured first. Paul, they've got to find him before that happens."

Tim watched the three men in th private elevator through the camera hidden in the corner of the elevator roof. He'd failed his job as far as he was concerned. Tears of remorse ran unhindered down his face. he prayed that the information he'd given the police would be enough for them to quickly find and save the man who had become his good friend. The elevator opened and the three men walked out of his view.

"Who are you talking about, Joe? Who is this 'she'?" Johnny asked

"Edith Way. She's Dave's deceased partner's mother. She hates Dave. She accused him of making her son queer. I heard her say she was going to get him." Joe led them into the kitchen where they sat around the little breakfast table. He went on to tell them about the morning she'd accosted Dave when they came back from their run.

"I know who she is, Johnny," Paul said. "I gave her chauffeur a speeding ticket when I was still on patrol. Man is she a battle axe."

"Call that in for investigation, Paul. There could be something to it."

"Could you guys check out the Chauffeur too?" Joe asked. "He's a real slime ball."

"Sure. Do you know his name?" Johnny asked.

Joe shook his head. "Only that Mrs. Way addressed him as Jeffery."

"Jeffery Joiner." Paul injected. "I'll never forget that hokey name. He's the one I gave the ticket."

Joe stood up hugging himself and briskly rubbing his upper arms. He had gotten past the shock. His color had returned. He felt he had to do something to busy himself. "I need a drink. Can I get you fellows something."

"We're on duty. How about some coffee." Johnny said.

"Of course, it won't take but a couple of minutes to make. I guess I'll have coffee too. It could be an all night wait."

The two detectives followed Dave into the kitchen. He occupied himself with measuring the water and the coffee and putting it into the maker. He stood watching the machine. There was nothing to see, but he could hear the water gurgle as it was heated. He looked at the clock above the stove. It was just after seven. It wouldn't be dark for another hour and a half. He pictured Dave tied up, gagged and blindfolded, and stuffed into a car trunk. He shuddered and forced his mind away from the image. He had to do something to keep himself busy. "You guys hungry? It is dinner time," he asked, as he set mugs on the counter and got out the cream and sugar. He set them on the table.

"What have you to offer?" Johnny asked. He wasn't particularly hungry himself, but he figured it would be a good way to keep his brother occupied and his thoughts on something besides Dave's predicament.

"Dave made a big pot of paprikash last night." He looked into the covered dish. "There's enough for at least two helpings each."

"Chicken or veal?" Paul asked. "I love Chicken Paprikash. There's a great Hungarian restaurant over on Jefferson Blvd. You gotta try it some time." He felt like he was babbling and shut up.

Joe grinned. He had gone through high school with Paul as his best buddy. He'd been a defensive line backer in highschool and college. Joe had been the Quarterback those same years. Paul had been known for his appetite after a football game, especially if they won. He could put away a whole large pizza by himself back in those days. But he'd kept himself in shape. Paul was a big guy, muscular with very little body fat. Even at thirty-eight he still had a flat belly. "You're in luck, Paul. It's chicken."

Johnny watched the two men at the stove. They had always included him in nearly everything they did as kids even though he was two years younger than Joe. He reminisced about sitting on the bench watching the two of them playing football. It wasn't until the two had graduated that he gotten his chance to play first line. He taken over Joe's position as the team's quarterback.

Paul stuck his head nearly in the pot Joe had heating on the stove, sniffing in the aroma of the Paprikash. Johnny propped his butt against the counter ledge and crossed his ankles. He was getting a kick out of watching Paul. "Joe, do him like mom used to do us," he urged.

Paul immediately covered the back of his head with both hands to protect it from a wooden spoon. Angie had gotten him a few times for doing just what he was now doing. "Ah, Johnny, you take all the fun out of it. I was only enjoying the smell."

"I wouldn't hit you, Paul. I like to smell it like that, too,"Joe said as he stuck a dish of buttered egg noodles in the microwave to heat. He got out two bowls and spoons and set them on the table and then watched the bowl of noodles turning in the microwave. He thought about Dave shuddering at the thought of nuking the noodles instead of heating them in boiling water, but this was faster and the two waiting men wouldn't know the difference anyway.

"Aren't you going to join us?" Johnny asked, eying the steaming food. The smell got to him, suddenly he was hungry.

"I couldn't eat right now, not knowing where Dave is." The microwave dinged. Joe took the bowl of noodles to the table and then the pot of Paprikash. "You guys eat all you want. Don't let it go to waste."

"You sound like Mom, Joe." Johnny laughed, trying for some humor.

Joe shrugged. He filled the three mugs with coffee and set them on the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down with a big sigh. He stared in to his steaming cup, and got lost wondering what he'd do without Dave. How quickly he'd become the center of his life, his very reason for living. He came out of his thrall realizing that Paul was talking. "What I can't figure out is why such a large amount of money. I mean Dave is only a bookstore owner. Where would he come up with two million dollars?"

"Dave could used two million to light a cigar and he wouldn't miss it." Joe mumbled without looking up.

Johnny laid his fork down. "I don't understand, Joe. What are you saying?"

Joe looked up at him. "Simply that Dave has lots of money. You know, Edith Way is the only person other than myself that knows about the money that he inherited from Bill. Oh, and that chauffeur overheard the discussion Dave had with her when she threatened him. So he would know, too."

"Okay. So how are we going to get the ransom money if they don't find him right away?" Paul asked.

"I can get it. No sweat." Joe muttered.

"How? How can you get that much, that fast?" his brother demanded.

"Simply withdraw it. However, it may take the bank awhile to come up with that much cash." Both men gawked at him. He didn't notice it as he stared back into the dark depths of his coffee. "God, I hope it doesn't come to that. Why couldn't they have gotten the right man? Why my Dave? We've just started our lives together." Joe laid his head on the table and covered it with his arms. "I'd give anything to change places with him."

"And he'd be sitting here feeling what you are going through. Is one worse than the other, Joe?" Johnny asked.

"Hey, I've got a feeling your going to see Dave home and safe tonight, Joe. Just hang in there." Paul said, patting Joe's back and then filling his bowl a second time. Johnny's phone buzzed. Joe and Paul watched intently as he put it to his ear.

"Paolini here." Pause "You did? Where." Pause. "We'll be right there." He pocketed the phone. "Come on, Paul, they've located the car at a rundown motel on the east side of town."

"I'm going with you, Johnny." Joe said pushing his chair back as he stood. Johnny turned and looked at the desperation on Joe's face. "Yeah, sure. Bro. Come on." He put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

Paul looked longingly at the bowl he had just filled with the delicious Paprikash. Joe grinned at his old chum. "Bring it with you." Paul grinned with relief, got up with the bowl in his hand and followed the brothers to the elevator.

~~~~~

Dave studied his captor who sat on the edge of the bed across the room, with a pistol dangling between his legs. His stringy, dirty blonde hair needed washing and cutting. His ice blue eyes looked feral and unsure. His long thin nose was crooked from having been broken and not set, his thin lower lip had a scar near the right corner. His long lanky body didn't look like he'd yet fully matured. Dave wondered whether he was in his late teens or early forties.

Dave wiggled to find a little comfort on the straight chair to which he was cuffed. His arms were beginning to ache being cuffed around and behind the chair back. Each ankle was cuffed to a chair leg below the rung. He'd already figured given the chance that he could get loose from the chair. He was amazed that he wasn't blindfolded and gagged. Since he wasn't he wondered if the plan was to kill him. The silence was beginning to get to him, even though they'd been in the room for less than an hour. "You're new at this, aren't you?" he asked.

The kid startled and looked at him. "Yeah, how d' ya know."

"Well, let's just say that the abduction didn't go as cool as one on TV."

"We all know the one's on TV aren't real. Shit, it's a lot of hassle doin' this," he whined. "I thought it went pretty easy. You didn't offer any resistance."

"I didn't want to get shot. What's your name kid."

"I'm not a kid and you don't need to know my name."

"I didn't mean to offend you. So can I call you Bob?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Bob'll do."

"So who's supposed to come up with the money for my ransom, Bob?"

"Some rich dude named David Gates." Dave's heart jumped. 'Oh my God,' he thought. 'It was suppose to Joe sitting here.'

The kidnapper looked him over. "You don't look like someone special. Why would he pay for you, anyway?"

He remembered to answer the question. "Well, probably because he's my best friend."

The kid "Bob" made a wry grimace and studied the pistol he still gripped with both hands between his knees.

Dave wondered what the man's reaction would be if and when he discovered that he had abducted the wrong person. He thanked God that the kid had screwed up and gotten him instead of Joe. He also was thankful that he'd had Joe sign those bank signature cards. Maybe there would be a chance they might let him go if they got the money.

"Must be nice to have a best friend that would pay that kind of money for you." The kid muttered not looking up.

"Bob, how much do you get out of this. I mean you're not the brains behind this kidnaping. What's the man paying you."

"I'm beginnin' to think it's not enough."

"So how much is it? Five hundred thousand? Half a million?"

"Shit!" the kid stood up and paced. "You kiddin me? That tight wad son-a-ma-bitch is only giving me five thousand."

"How much was the ransom note for?"

"Two million." he blurted out with out hesitation and then looked sorry he'd said it.

"You're taking all the risks and he's only paying you that piddling amount?"

"You're askin' too many questions, mister. I'm beginnin' to get pissed off."

"Don't get mad at me. I'd give you a lot more if it were me getting two million dollars while you do all the dirty work."

"Hey. Jus' fuckin' shut up an' let me think."

Dave shut up and watched "Bob." He sat there with a dark scowl on his face, his eyes darting back and forth as he thought. After a few minutes Dave broke the silence again.

"Bob, would you tell me if I guessed who got you into the mess?"

"You think you know?"

"Well, I'm positive it's my mother in-law that's behind the whole thing. And I'll bet you the man that contacted you was about five foot ten, a little taller than you with thin brown hair. He has a belly that sticks out in front of his skinny body, like he's wearing a volley ball under his shirt. He also has a thin little mustache."

"Bob" didn't respond yes or no to Dave's description, but his furtive glances told him that he had guessed correctly. He waited a few minutes to see what his captor would do. He just sat there and fidgeted.

"I'll be honest with you, Bob. I don't think you have a chance in this caper. I'm quite sure the guard got a good look at you and I think he also got your license plate number. If that's true then the police know exactly who they are looking for, and are looking for you even now."

He paused to let him think about the implications.

"I'll make a deal with you. You let me go and I'll give you five times what Jeffery was offering you. That's twenty-five thousand dollars."

It took a few minutes of deep thought for "Bob" to make a decision.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Well, you know how to find me. Do you know how to find Jeffery, other than by a phone number? If he picks up the money and leaves you holding the bag, how do you get your money from him?"

"Shit, I never thought about that. I bet the weasel will make off with it, too."

"I'll make you another offer. I know one of the detectives on the police force, his name is Det. John Paolini. If you'll turn yourself in to him and agree to testify against Jeffery, I'll not press charges against you." Dave knew he wasn't being completely honest with the man. Kidnapping is a federal offense. It was completely out of Dave's hands as to whether of not he got charged.

"I'll have to think about it. There's no phone in this cheap room. I'm going to go make a call on a pay phone. You sit there and behave your self while I'm gone."

Dave nodded his consent. Bob peeked through the curtained window. The coast looked clear. He stepped out pulling the door closed. Dave quickly tilted his chair back and freed the metal cuff from the right chair leg. And then did the same with the other one. His legs were free.

Before Bob could remove his hand from the door nob a policeman stepped onto the walk from the side of the building.

"Hands in the air." He had his pistol leveled at him with both hands.

Bob raised his hand holding the gun while turning the doorknob with the one still on the knob. He fell backwards against the door and rolled into the room. A bullet split the edge of the door frame. He kicked the door closed.

"Shit, how the hell did they find me?"

He lay there with his gun pointed at the door, expecting to see it burst open any second.

"The guard on the door was right there when you grabbed me. They knew who to look for, didn't they?" Dave said.

"Shut the fuck up. Who's asking you. Damn, what am I going to do now."

Before Dave could answer he heard a voice yell outside.

"Throw your gun out the door and come out with your hands up."

Bob got to his feet and started pacing.

"O God, I didn't expect this. Joiner said it would be really easy money. What am I going to do?"

"Take my offer and give yourself up."

"Shut the fuck up." he screamed again. "I wasn't talking to you."

"I thought you were, being I'm the only other person in the room. You don't have to be a total loser, ask for Det. Paolini. He'll help you."

"You don't understand English do you?" He swung the pistol striking Dave's cheek. Dave kicked backwards hoping his head didn't strike anything. He landed painfully on his arms and rolled side ways.

"WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED. TOSS YOUR GUN OUT. AND COME OUT SLOWLY WITH YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD."

The loudness of the megaphone caught Bob's full attention. He didn't notice Dave wiggle free of the chair. He rushed to the window and peeked out the side of the curtain. "Shit! There's at least six patrol cars out there."

Dave was on the other side of the bed. He had doubled his legs up against his chest. Struggling, he managed to slide the cuffs over his butt. It was even more difficult to get his feet through the loop that his cuffed wrists made of his arms. Once he got one foot through it was a little easier to get the other one freed. Bob wasn't paying any attention to him. Dave stood and looked at Bob who was still peeking out at the cops. Dave eyed the distance to the bathroom door, glanced at Bob and then lunged for it. He slammed the door closed and locked it. Bob ran to the door and pounded on it.

"Open this damned door before I put a bullet through it."

"You shoot that gun even once and the police will assume you've shot me and they will rush this place. They will kill you, Bob, you'll die." Dave yelled back at him. He felt it was a little melodramatic, but that seemed to be something that Bob understood. He didn't think the kid would use the gun but, he stood to the side of the door anyway.

Bob backed away from the bathroom door. He looked at it and then at the front of the room. He was so angry, confused and frustrated that he didn't know what to do. He aimed at the bathroom door and put a bullet through it, right next to the handle.

~~~~

Paul pulled the old beat up old Crown Victoria into the parking lot and stopped next to the two cruisers that the police were using them as a protective barrier. Johnny turned to Joe.

"Get out on the other side and keep your head down."

Paul slid out and scurried, bent over, up to the police that were kneeling with their guns pointed at a door across the lot. Johnny slid across the seat and followed Paul. Joe looked toward the door that they were all watching. He saw the curtain in the window next to it move slightly. He wished to heaven that he was a sharpshooter with a rifle. He'd take that stupid bastard out in a heart beat. Not knowing how Dave was faring in all this, ate at him something fierce. 'It should me in there, not my Dave.' The thought gnawed at the back of his mind.

He heard some yelling inside, and then a gunshot. Joe wanted to scream his agony. The bastard had shot his Dave.

~~~~

Bob kicked the door and it flew open. He stepped into the room pointing the gun right and left. Dave was behind the door holding a toilet plunger like a bat. It was the only thing loose in the room.

As soon as Bob was beyond the door Dave pushed it closed with his foot and swung the toilet plunger at Bob's head, knocking him sideways into the shower stall. The gun discharged again. For a moment Dave thought he'd been shot and then realized it was a spray of hot water coming from the shower faucet. The bullet had shattered the valve. Bob was in the direct line of the steaming stream and he screamed as he was scalded. In any decent motel the water wouldn't have been any hotter than 180 degrees. But apparently this place was so cheap there wasn't a thermostat on the water heater. The water was near boiling. Bob had lost the gun and was scrambling to get away from the hissing torrent. He kept losing his footing in the stall and falling backdown. Dave grabbed his feet and dragged him out. Bob still screamed in pain from the burns.

Suddenly the door was thrust open and six guns pointed into the little room. Dave raised his shackled hands and backed up.

The first cop in took note of what had happened turned on the cold water faucet and aimed the shower head at the writhing man on the floor, cooling the wet clothing that was still scalding hot. Bob gasped with relief. Another cop had called for an ambulance. They couldn't cuff him because of the burns. Dave just backed against the wall and let them work on him. Now that it was over he felt like he could just slide down the wall and go to sleep. But then he thought of Joe and the anxiety he must be going through. He pushed through the police and got into the bedroom. He was immediately engulf in Joe's arms. "Oh God, Babe, I thought I'd lost you," Joe said. "Thank God you're safe. No one was telling me anything." Dave couldn't hug him back, his hands were still cuffed. He just laid into Joe's body, absorbing his love and strength. "I love you, Joe." He closed his eyes and sighed. Both were oblivious to the men around them.

A policeman interrupted them. "Excuse me, Sir, but I have to take your statement." Seeing that Dave was still handcuffed he pardoned himself and went to retrieve the keys from Bob's clothes. Dave's wrists were crusty with dried blood from where the cuffs had cut into him when he had done his Houdini act. His cheek was swollen, bruised and still oozing a bit of blood. The policeman gently removed the cuffs, and a medic smeared salve on his wrists. "Sir, you need to go to the hospital and have your face taken care of. It may need stitches."

Bob was being carried on a stretcher past them. His clothes had been cut off his body and he'd been covered with a wet sheet that had been soaked with a saline solution. He'd been given a big shot of morphine to ease his pain. It must have worked, because he looked dead as he was carried past them.

Dave nodded without replying. The policeman asked him to please accompany him outside where he could talk and be heard. He took a straight chair with him and had Dave sit. Joe had his arm around him the whole time. Dave talked into the hand held recorder while two other policemen took notes. When the ordeal was over Johnny and Paul were standing by to take him to the hospital to have his face taken care of.

~~~~

Paul and Johnny stepped out of the elevator with Joe and Dave. Paul walked over to the table and eyed the bowl of Paprikash and noodles they'd left setting on the table in their rush to go save Dave. He forked a bite into his mouth, and closed his eyes enjoying the flavor even cold.

"You want me to heat that, Paul?" Dave asked. Paul shook his head picked up the bowl and as his three friends watched he finished it off.

Once Johnny and Paul had left Joe started coming unglued. Dave had started cleaning up the kitchen. He'd just gathered all the dirty dishes from the table and set them in the sink to rinse before putting them in the dishwasher. Joe walked up behind him, turned him around, wrapped him in his arms and burrowed his face into the side of Dave's neck. "Don't ever do that to me again," he murmured.

"I promise to try not to." Dave held his wet hands away from Joe's back and still tried to hug him back.

"Leave this for tomorrow. I need to hold you right now."

Dave grabbed a dish towel, dried his hands and allowed Joe to lead him by the hand to the bedroom. Joe proceeded to undress him and then quickly disrobed himself. Dave crawled onto the center of the bed with Joe right on him. He pulled Dave up against him, chest to chest, and wrapped his arms and legs around him. He held him like this for several minutes, while Dave caressed his back. Joe's ragged breath soon evened out and Dave realized that he had fallen asleep. Dave relaxed and he too was soon sleeping peacefully in his lover's arms.

End of chapter 5