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.He d made the call,thrown what he could on and, after leaving a note for Brandon,took off to work.Nick passed the lab manager in the hall, got ahard once over, then the man merely shook his head and walkedoff without speaking. What about crises time? Ada patted his arm. I readsomething about that in the employee handbook.I ll donatesome of my vacation hours to your account.I m sure there areothers here who would, too. Still the problem of Shayna not being related to me by bloodor marriage. Heck, even if they were a regular couple, underVegas rules he wasn t sure they d give him the time. I appreciatethe offer, but there s no way I can take you up on it. Okay.That s too bad.I didn t realize& Now Ada got up. Ifthere s anything you need just let me know. Patting his shoulder,Ada headed back toward her department.Absently, he mumbled, Thanks, I may take you up on that, as she walked off.Most people didn t realize& not that Nick would be entitledto comp time or leave time at this stage if Brandon was a gal.Heck, even if they registered as Domestic Partners in Nevada,Nick wasn t sure if he d qualify.The last policy statement out ofthe state was that DPs might be covered by their partner s statehealth plan& if the state ever came up with the money to fund it.Political injustice made his head hurt, especially when everythingelse in his life spun out of control.Nick needed to start with thesmall tasks and try and make it through the day without losingit.Nick picked up one of the few envelopes that wasn t interofficemail.Grease darkened one corner and something that looked likeketchup dotted the back.God, someone needed to have a talkwith the idiots down in the mailroom about eating and sorting atthe same time. ALL OR NOTHING 163Nick didn t get much outside mail, so he double checked.Yepthe address for the building and his name: Agent.Nick O Malleytyped on the print and peel label.Since whoever sent it used histitle but not the full version of his name Nicholas it indicatedfamiliarity instead of formal business correspondence.Nosender s name but a return address in Connecticut and stampsinstead of a metered strip.Packing tape sealed the flap closed.Allrang a little odd, he thought as he slit the top.Maybe someonehe met at an industry conference or something.He often tradedbusiness cards and exchanged promises to forward interestinginfo.Most people never followed through.Nick dumped the contents across the only clear space onhis workstation.A pile of inkjet printed photos spilled overthe surface.Partial profiles and blurred shots caught the light.Nick.Nick and Shayna at the merry-go-round.Brandon andNick together in front of that glitzy girl store.All three of themplaying games and walking on the strip.Nick started shaking. Holy fuck! He almost fell over his chair trying to back awayfrom the massive invasion of his life laid out in pixilated color. What is it? Ada rushed back toward him from the hall.Nick realized he must have yelled. Photos. Nick stepped infront of Ada before she could reach his station. It s got picturesof me and Brandon and Shayna in it.Like just before she wastaken. What little training he had in evidence handling kickedin.A million people had probably touched the outside of theenvelope, but whoever sent the pictures was the only person tohandle those. Don t touch! Oh no. Ada stepped up and hugged him. You okay,Nick? Nick pulled back. Somebody mailed it.It came in with mymail. Brandon mentioned a threat might come if someone hadtaken Shayna to hurt Brandon.Nick just hadn t expected it tocome to him at work. Get Enforcement in here, please. Palminghis face, Nick perched on the edge of his chair. Have them callDetective Orozco at Metro.Holy fucking shit, he hissed out, notreally conscious of Ada s presence. Holy, motherfucking shit. 164 James BuchananHe was still repeating it when Enforcement hustled in.Theycordoned off the area and then parked him in the lab manager stiny office.Fifteen, maybe thirty, minutes later an enforcement agentushered Detective Orozco into the office.After a few brusquepleasantries about coffee and how everyone was holding up,Orozco perched on the edge of the desk and pulled out his notepad.Nick had to bite back an inappropriate snort of humor.Almost six months earlier they d occupied the exact samepositions in this office while Orozco interrogated him about themurder of Mike Ducmagian, a former co-worker of Nick s at theGCB, and a guy who turned out to be a money launderer for theMexican Mafia. Agent O Malley, the detective s tone seemed far moregentle this time around, has anything strange been happeningrecently? You mean other than Shayna getting taken? Nick rubbedhis hands together and tried to think. I don t know. Look, when we were out at your house the focus was onDetective Carr. Orozco crossed his arms over his chest andsucked on his mustache. His daughter, he s a cop, most logicalassumption was that if it wasn t random, it was because of whohe was.But, this says, we might be wrong. He blew out a longbreath. Whoever did this sent the stuff directly to you, nothim.One of the easiest ways to hurt you is to hurt him.Andvice-versa. Orozco knew pretty much everything there was toknow about Nick and Brandon s relationship. Think, Nicholas,anything strange. I don t know, Nick shrugged. Ah, I ve been getting callson my cell phone from an unlisted number. He hadn t reallythought much about that until Brandon pegged it as odd.Maybeit might mean something to Orozco. First few times I picked itup and nobody answered, so now if I don t know the number Ijust let it go to voice mail.If it s somebody who needs me, they llleave a message, you know? Orozco jotted some notes then looked up. How long has ALL OR NOTHING 165this been going on? Nick tried to think back. Three or four months, maybe. Itwas hard to recall precisely when, since at the time, it didn t seemmuch of anything. I don t remember exactly. Could be tracking you.Trying to see if you ll answer andif you re someplace public or not. Tapping the pen against thepaper, Orozco seemed to think for a bit. Give your cell phonenumber out a lot? How might someone have gotten a hold ofit? Fuck I don t know.It s on the employee phone tree list.People take them home, keep them in their cars. After a momenthe added, Could have ended up on some volunteer lists througha couple of AIDS support charities and the local rainbow teencenter I don t have time to do much, but if their computersbreak down I ll run over and fix them for the cost of the parts.So, God, could be tons of people who had it out where someoneelse could grab it. Nodding, Orozco followed up with, You re on line a lot,tech geek and all.Anything there? Nothing major I guess. Well, yeah, he remembered theemails. A guy who s just bugging me on emails and forums andshit. Really, couldn t be connected, but then again, it might besomething. That s nothing right? You never know.We ll look into it. Orozco motioned tosomeone at the door.Nick twisted in his seat to see Ada therewith a cup of water. What about here? The question refocusedhis attention on the detective. Weird calls? Strange emails toyour office account? Nothing, Nick reached for the water with a mumbled, Thanks. After a sip, he repeated. Nothing I can think of. Ada started to back out the door and then paused
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