The Next Day

Moriarty flopped onto his couch with a huff. Stupid people, not knowing when to leave things alone. Now he was going to have to take what he wanted. That would take time-time he wanted to spend finding a worthy guard. An idea formed in his mind.

What if he used this as a trial? It would certainly show their commitment and the lengths they were willing to go to for him. Pulling out his phone, he texted his head man.

Change of plans. Drug them and stick them in a van.

He let the address and hopped to his feet. He was excited now. This trial would eliminate three of the five men. He was confident that Lyle would be one of the two left. Maybe he would give the other one on his staff. It would be fair, since he'd had his eye on Matthews from the beginning.

Excited, James hopped in the back of his car and played Tetris on his phone until they reached the city. Waiting for the men to wake up, he worked out a battle plan. The target was a shipment of a client's stolen arms. Someone had taken them from said client. Normally he wouldn't care about one shipment, but when he had been stolen from...that tended to piss him off. So they'd go in, killing anyone who got in their way, and secure his property.

The van showed up and the drowsy men exited the back. Lyle looked right at him. At least, James thought so. He could never tell with those damn sunglasses on. So he stuck his tongue out at him, pleased when Lyle's mouth twitched in amusement.

After explaining the plan, Moriarty's men supplied the candidates with guns. "And since it is the third trial, the three who reach the target last will be sent home. I'll be watching you all closely. My men will give the signal to start in five minutes."

Wishing them luck, Jim gestured to two of his men. They easily crept into the building and found the crates in the basement. Moriarty settled comfortably onto one and texted his men to begin the game.

It wasn't long before the shots started. Half listening, he put in an earbud and started singing. "You're the voice, try and understand it. Make it noise and make it clear. Oh-o-o-o, whoa-o-o-o. We're not gonna sit in silence. We're not gonna live with fear..."

"Fan of eighties power ballads?"

Head snapping up, a grin already on his face, he found Lyle leaning casually against the door frame. "I have an eclectic taste in music," he admitted.

Lyle smiled and sat on a crate next to him. For once, he took off his glasses. Moriarty leaned forward to get a better look. Lyle's eyes were bright green. They were beautiful.

Matthews smiled at him. "You have a nice voice," he complimented. James grinned and thanked him.

"What do you listen to?"

"Metal and rock."

They had a conversation about music for several minutes before the other man walked in. He was the brunette Jim had had his eye on from the beginning. He sent out a text letting his men know that the game was over. The other three would be paid and they would leave. That left these two.

"What is your name?" he asked the new man.

"Micheal Benton."

"Well, Micheal, welcome to Moriarty Enterprises. Rick here will fill you in on your new job." The consulting criminal waited until the men left before turning to Lyle. "Congratulations," he beamed. "You won the game."

Matthews grinned back at him and slid his glasses back into place. "Never doubted otherwise."

James explained Lyle's new job to him, the risks and the benefits. His new guard listened carefully, nodded, and asked questions at the appropriate times. Moriarty liked him immensely. They left together, climbed into a car, and drove to Jim's home in the city.

On the drive there, he received a text from Ethan Calhoun, Doyle's replacement.

Found something important about Matthews. You'll need to hear it, sir.

Moriarty sent a quick reply and spent the rest of the ride chatting with his new companion. Whatever Calhoun had to say could wait until Lyle was settled.

When they reached Moriarty's house, he showed Matthews to his new room. It was right next to his, connected by a bathroom.

Dirty thoughts about sharing a shower had played through Jim's mind, but he kept them to himself.

"I have to go talk to someone," he said apologetically after an hour or so. "I will be right back. You can...unpack or explore. Actually, you probably shouldn't explore yet. I'll give you a tour when I get back."

Lyle smiled, and Jim's nervousness disappeared. This was going to work out just fine. He was almost out the door when Mathews asked, "What do I call you?"

"You can call me James or Jim. Whatever works for you."

"I like James."

His heart skipped a beat. No one used his real name. Even if people were on a first-name basis with him, they called him Jim. With a quick wave, James left the room and went down to his office when Calhoun was waiting.

"What did you find?" he asked impatiently as he walked through the door.

"Oh. Um, hi, sir," the man stuttered as he stood. "I'm sorry I didn't find it before-"

"Cut to the chase."

The man nervously wrung his hands together. "I was double-checking the men you brought in, and I unearthed a piece of information that most people haven't heard yet." Ethan noted his boss' expression and hurried on. "Sir, Lyle Matthews was murdered two weeks ago."