Mitch strolled forward, exchanging a quick look with the agent by the door. He’d worked with the fresh-from-college agent while on his last case. The look they gave one another made it clear nothing had bothered the two people just beyond the door. Which meant everything was running right as planned. Damn, Mitch liked that so much more than the chaos that ended his last case.
Except, this wasn’t a case; this was a favor for his father, and he’d had to call in a few favors of his own to get a security detail. It didn’t matter; he’d do anything for his old man.
The blinds on the room’s window to the hallway were drawn tight. Another good sign, and he gently pushed open the hospital room door, slowing his roll as he entered. He didn’t suspect any zombies to breach these walls. Not with the four armed agents on this floor.
The sight that greeted him was expected, yet somehow still took him off his emotional guard. The tactical information gave him the who, what, when, and where. So the scene shouldn’t have been a surprise with Jace Montgomery stationed in a hospital chair as close to Colt’s gurney as he could get. His eyes were focused forward on Colt’s face and their fingers entwined. Clearly Jace had no problem being out. Mitch respected that. Something he’d also accepted many years ago about himself.
Jace turned red-rimmed, exhausted eyes toward him, and his expression changed when he realized Mitch wasn’t a hospital staff member.
“I’m Deputy Knox, US Marshal for the United States Justice Department. Please call me Mitch. My father, Dr. Knox, sent me,” he said, walking around to the side of the bed where Jace sat. Jace was reluctant to let go of Colt’s hand, but did, and for whatever reason, Mitch found it incredibly endearing.
“Jace Montgomery, thank you for coming.” He could see the cringe in Jace’s response. Years of doing this job had him guessing the cringe was the innate understanding that Mitch was about to ask all the same questions Jace had already answered, probably about a hundred times since entering this room. Mitch decided not to do that to the guy. The time would come when he had to ask questions, but not now. The police reports were enough.
Based on what he’d seen so far, Montgomery’s answers never changed. He had no idea who did this, except to say Colt’s father would never agree to their relationship. Mitch had also moved Jace over on the list. He was no longer a suspect, regardless of what the local authorities thought. Mitch had seen the grief in Jace’s eyes. The look wasn’t guilt, but straight up grief, and you didn’t have that deep down sorrow if you caused the accident.
Enough said there.
“These are my guys out front. No one comes or goes without their approval. My father’s on his way, he should be here in a couple of hours,” Mitch said, standing behind Jace’s chair, tucking his hands in his blue jean pockets.
“I noticed a couple of hours ago they went from being uniformed police to guys in suits. Thank you,” Jace said, briefly glancing at him, before turning his attention back to Colt, stroking and holding the other man’s hand.
“It’s not a problem. What’re they saying about him?” Mitch asked, nodding toward Colt.
“He needs another surgery. He’s got some internal swelling. I guess it’s your father they’re waiting on. His doctors seem to have all changed too, but I’m not exactly sure.” Mitch looked Colt over. He wasn’t the worst he’d seen, but still pretty damn bad. Then he reexamined that thought. Those others he’d seen hadn’t survived, and for whatever reason, Colt had. Some strong incentive had to have kept him alive under that badly abused body.
“It’s hard getting answers, isn’t it?"
“You have no idea,” Jace said, looking back over his shoulder. There was a slight grin there, and Mitch watched Jace closer. He was an incredibly attractive man. Mitch felt sure the five o’clock shadow wasn’t normally there. Jace’s long, a little past the chin length blond hair looked disheveled, absently tied back with pieces shoved behind his ears. There was clearly a muscular sculpted body underneath those wrinkled clothes.
That kind of bulk took training. He himself spent hours a day in the gym to make his body hard. He could see why Colton Michaels might risk everything to be with the guy. Actually, he could see why Colt was fighting to stay alive, if their relationship was a love match like they seemed.
“I wanted to stop by and introduce myself before I head to the local police station. We’ve exercised our rights in this case, and based on its sensitive nature, everyone is under strict orders to stay quiet. We’ll see how long that lasts.”
“Good, thank you. I know Colt will appreciate the discretion.”
“Hmmm,” Mitch grunted. “We’ll see.” Usually wherever the leak came from, you could eventually find the perpetrator. The bad guys rarely kept these kinds of things quiet for long—bragging rights and all that. Mitch dug out his billfold and produced a business card. He handed it over Jace’s shoulder. As the man took the card, Mitch placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re as safe as you can be for now. Your whole concentration should be getting him well. My dad’s top of the line, but if you need a second opinion, I can arrange that, too.” Jace looked up again and smiled softly as their gazes connected and Mitch was once more taken a little aback by the look in Jace’s eyes.
“You’re gay?” Jace asked.
“I am,” Mitch confirmed. Jace nodded, and those green eyes moved back to Colt, releasing Mitch from their intense grip.
“Good. He needs someone sympathetic on his side. He’s just barely out.”
“I figured. I’ll be back in touch in a few hours. Take care, Jace,” Mitch said, already making his way to the door.
“Thank you, Deputy Knox.”
Thoughts of killing zombies didn’t cross his mind as he left the hospital. Instead, his heart connected with the intense love he picked up inside the room. He never really thought love existed for people like him; at least, he hadn’t ever experienced anything even remotely close.