“The town doesn’t seem so bad from this vantage point,” Aaron said. Kreed’s head was turned toward the accident, studying the marks on the pavement, and he couldn’t help but tease Aaron.
“We have some extra time. Wanna grab lunch?” Kreed kept his head turned away to hide the smile.
“Hell no!” Aaron had been propped up in his seat, leaning across the console to see out the driver window, but dropped dramatically back into his seat. “How does a town this size not grow? It makes no sense. There are more churches in this city than places to eat.”
Kreed chuckled. That had been a sore spot for Aaron the whole time they’d been there. “It’s how lots of parts of Texas work. You have all these progressive cities surrounding this one tiny town, and you drive in there and it’s like the sixties. It’s all designed to help keep the cities’ values intact or some shit like that.” Kreed rolled his eyes at that one.
“Yeah. I’m not buying it. I bet that undercover officer from the eighty’s family doesn’t think it’s too great a town.”
“I didn’t say they were good values they were trying so hard to protect.”
The church came into view. The whole place looked to be still under lock down. The local law enforcement was stationed out front and also at every available entrance into the building. That was one great thing about Midlothian. Kreed did have lots of respect for the local police force. Even getting involved late in that game, they’d been right on it, eager to help and lend a hand wherever they were needed. Apparently the church had been a thorn in their side for quite some time. Kreed pulled the car as close as he could to the house they’d used. Many other federal vehicles were parked out front.
“How long will they be out here?” Aaron asked as Kreed rounded the hood where Aaron stood waiting for him. He reached inside his jacket to pull out his badge and extended a hand, motioning for Aaron to walk up the sidewalk in front of him. There was lots of activity in the house they’d used, probably a cleaning crew and someone removing the surveillance equipment. The bureau’s security guard out front, along with all the police presence, let Kreed know some agency still considered this a hot spot of activity.
“They’ll probably stay like this until the rest are caught or they feel like they collected all the required evidence. Even then, it’ll stay locked down.” Kreed lifted his badge to the suit by the door, but the guy never looked down.
“I know who you are, Deputy Sinacola. We’ve got a bag for you. It’s a few things they found left behind. A couple of shirts and a keyboard they don’t think belong here.” Kreed glanced to the bag at the guard’s feet. This wasn’t his first time packing quickly for an assignment, so he knew he had everything he’d brought to the house, and they weren’t usually this nice. Typically, if it was left behind, it got tossed. Kreed reached for the bag and looked inside. Yep, it was all Aaron’s things. His partner had clearly been more shaken than he’d admitted to not at least grab the keyboard. The shirts he’d probably left on purpose. They were Aaron’s church-boy clothes. Kreed would take those; Aaron made a hot church boy. But the kid treated his computer equipment like gold, so he was glad they’d bagged the leftover belongings.
Kreed handed Aaron the bag and shook the agent’s hand. “Thank you.”
“Sir, can I speak frankly?” The formality of the FBI always made him a little nervous. He rarely liked what he heard when explanations started this way.
“Maybe,” Kreed hesitated, furrowing his brow behind his sunglasses.
“It’s not bad, sir.” The agent lifted his sunglasses.
He wasn’t dressed in the standard issue men-in-black suit, but he suspected it was close underneath the long coat the guy wore. Also, he was younger than Kreed had originally suspected. His face turned handsome as he grinned at his words.
“I followed your career for a couple of years now after I watched you make an arrest in Virginia.”
The agent paused, looking deeply at Kreed, if that were even possible. For him, he’d made so many arrests that he had no idea what the agent might have seen so he said nothing, instead politely inclined his head, nodding as he waited. There was still a long pause before he finished.
“You make things better for us, sir.”
There was a slight stutter in the agent’s words. He must be gay but didn’t feel comfortable enough to even say the words to Kreed. Kreed nodded again, making sure he gave the signal that he understood. He did get it. Although lots had changed for gay men, it was still hard to function normally in their chosen industry. Kreed hadn’t fully come out until he was well into his twenties, and it had taken years to get to this point. Sometimes he still felt like he had to work harder and longer, perhaps even a little smarter, than his straight counterparts in order to be treated as an equal. He lifted a hand to pat the agent’s arm.
“Thanks, man. We are who we are.” It was Kreed’s standard response, because honestly, words weren’t needed. Enough had been said.
“Thank you, sir.”
Kreed turned toward the car, lifted a hand in acknowledgement, and found he had to reach back, grab Aaron by the collar, and tug him in order to get him moving.
“Do people do that to you a lot?” Aaron asked, immediately falling in step with Kreed.
“It’s not always an easy path to find your way out, especially in this job,” Kreed said quietly a few steps away. “It’s funny though… Even in today’s world, when I meet straight guys in this field, they almost always have that look that you just know they’re thinking, ‘I wonder if he tops or bottoms.’ My record, then, doesn’t matter anymore. They just wonder if I take it up my ass.”