Brian looked up hopefully as Carl walked back into the great area of the loft after placing his call. "Well, I just got off the phone with Sylvia Broadwell, Prescott's executive assistant. Unfortunately, she clammed up tighter than the proverbial oyster. Says her boss is out of town on "business," and she cannot disclose anything further. And I can't get a search warrant issued just on the supposition that Prescott has something to do with Justin's disappearance."
Brian smacked his hand on the nearby coffee table in frustration, ignoring the sudden, stinging pain that occurred as a result. At that moment, his physical pain could in no way compare to the emotional pain he was currently feeling, anyway. So far, Brian had spoken with Daphne and Michael; Daphne had actually seen Justin yesterday, but he had not indicated anything was amiss, nor had he mentioned receiving any further gifts. In fact, he had seemed pretty carefree while he was with her.
He was about to make another desperate call when he heard a familiar voice just inside the loft's foyer. "Carl? Where are you? What the fuck is going on here? It looks they're shooting an episode of CSI outside!"
Carl sighed. He had called and left a message for Debbie to meet him here; he was not going to enjoy what he was about to tell his girlfriend. "Debbie – up here," he called out.
Debbie, followed by Emmett, bounded up the steps. Seeing the look on Brian's face, Debbie's own face turned pale. "What's happened?" she asked, looking from the brunet's face to Carl's. Emmett, too, noticed the haggard look on Brian's face. Uh, oh. He wasn't supposed to be back this soon, according to Justin. What's going on here?
"Em, Debbie, have either of you seen Justin?" Brian's pleading tone caught both of them off guard; it was so uncharacteristic of the normally cocky, confident voice they were accustomed to.
Emmett quickly spoke up; he realized Brian didn't know about Justin's trip and he had apparently blown everything out of proportion. I TOLD you, baby, that you should have told him where you were going….
"Brian, hold on. Did you call CARL because Justin is gone? Don't worry, he's okay," he said, trying to reassure the ad exec.
Jumping immediately on that statement, Brian said, "What do you mean, he's okay? EMMETT?" Brian grabbed the flamboyant man's shoulder a little too roughly as he stood up to face Em from inches away, demanding an explanation.
Emmett was startled by Brian's violent reaction and sighed; what a mess Justin had gotten himself into, all because he wasn't up front with Brian. He explained, "We had breakfast together at the diner this morning." Debbie nodded her head in agreement; she had seen the two together this morning and had spoken briefly to them. The diner had been packed for some reason during her shift, so she only had a chance to speak to them very briefly.
Before Brian had a chance to prod further, he continued, "Justin was all excited about a new painting he'd finished for a new commission. He said it was going to be a series of paintings he was doing for this big time mogul and all these restaurants he was remodeling. He asked Justin to go with him this morning to the first restaurant and give him an opinion on where the painting should be placed. Justin really didn't want to go, but he didn't dare disappoint this guy, because he said it would be a pretty lucrative deal," he offered in explanation to Brian.
Brian's head was spinning – at least they knew Justin was all right this morning, but what did this CLIENT have to do with anything? There had to be a connection here somewhere – it couldn't just be a coincidence that Justin was asked to go somewhere just as that fucker Prescott had his message delivered.
"Em? What was this guy's name?" Brian asked him urgently. "And did Justin mention where he was taking him?"
Emmett closed his eyes briefly, trying to concentrate. "Let me think – I know I've seen his name before in all kinds of magazines, because he's really into French cuisine…..It's kind of an unusual name, too…"
"Emmett! Come on! Think!" Brian's patience was non-existent now; he just knew they were running out of time.
"Hold on, I'm thinking….Give a boy some time!" Suddenly, Emmett's face lit up. "Comisar! Vince Comisar! That's it! He's very big in the restaurant industry. In fact, now that I think of it, George told me once that he owns the La Masionette here in Pittsburgh." Emmett noticed a look of hatred suddenly appear on Brian's face at the mention of the restaurant. "That's the fancy five-star restaurant my honey took me to right after we first met." Emmett's face took on a wistful look as he recalled his former beau fondly. Frowning, he asked Brian, "What is GOING on? Justin said he'd be back either later tonight or tomorrow. He thought you wouldn't get back until sometime on Monday."
"I'll TELL you what's going on! That fucking restaurant is the SAME one that Prescott took Justin to as part of the bid for his painting! And now I just know he's taken him somewhere! We've got to find this Comisar and make him tell us where Justin is! Emmett! WHERE were they going? Do you know? Shit! We don't even know if they were going where they SAID they were going! We don't even know if that's the TRUTH now! They could be anywhere by now!" Brian was so angry and frustrated at this point his face was red and his forhead were sweating profusely.
"Oh, my God!" Debbie cried. Are you saying this Prescott person has KIDNAPPED Sunshine? How do you know? And why would he do such a thing?"
"I'll TELL you why," Brian snarled. "The fucker has been obsessed with Justin since the day he saw him, and I'm convinced he's behind all the expensive gifts Justin's been getting. And he's the one who sent me a note at Kinnetik today saying Justin's where he belongs. I'm telling you – he has got him somewhere, and if he touches ONE hair on his head, I'm going to fucking KILL that bastard!"
"Okay, okay, this isn't getting us anywhere," Carl said, trying to calm everyone down. "Emmett? Answer Brian's question – did Justin say where they were going?"
"Yeah, actually, he did, because I was kidding him about horse and buggies." Everyone looked at Emmett as if he were crazy, before he explained. "He said he was going to Lancaster, where all the Amish people live. THAT'S where he was going."
"Did he mention anywhere specific?" Carl queried.
"No, just the city, I'm afraid." Brian's look of desperation and dread was beginning to worry Emmett greatly. Could he be right about Justin being in danger? "I'm sorry, Brian, that's all I know."
"That's okay, Emmett," Carl said soothingly. "That's a big help at least. Listen, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out which restaurant this Comisar owns in Lancaster. Brian, can you pull his name up on the web and see what you can find out?"
Thankfully, the ad exec already had his laptop open and turned on. "Here it is!" Brian shouted, after a few seconds of searching. "It's called Chez Laurent. It's on Riverside Drive. Here's the address," he added, snatching a piece of paper off the nearby printer. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed a speed number. "Will! Where are you? Good, because don't go anywhere. I need you to prepare the jet for another trip. No, right NOW! This is an emergency! I'll be there in 15 minutes – we're flying to Lancaster! I don't fucking care what it costs in overtime – just do it!"
"Brian, what do you think you're doing? You can't go there! This is police business!" Carl advised him.
"The FUCK it is! You told me your hands were tied until you knew for sure that Justin was in danger! Well, I'm not going to sit around on my fucking hands until you decide for sure that it's a police matter! You do what you want – I'm going NOW before it's too late!"
Carl knew from the determined look on Brian's face that he would not be deterred, especially when his partner was concerned. Resigned to the inevitable, he sighed. "Okay. But you're not going alone. I'M going with you."
"And so are we," Emmett said forcefully, as Debbie nodded her head.
"Oh, no, you aren't," Carl replied vehemently. "This could be dangerous. We don't know what we're dealing with here. I'm having enough problems with Brian going. No, you are NOT going," he repeated, just before Debbie opened her mouth to no doubt voice the same opinion as Emmett. "Please," he beseeched the redhead. "Please stay here. I don't want to be having to worry about you, in addition to Justin."
It was obvious that neither Emmett nor Debbie liked or agreed with Carl's decision; however, they also did not want to run the risk of Justin somehow being placed in further danger, if in fact he WAS in trouble.
Finally conceding defeat, they both nodded in agreement glumly, just before Brian and Carl rushed out of the loft toward the airport.
Justin stood beside the now-open double doors, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Wanting to turn around and run like hell out of the place, but too shocked and scared to move.
"Angel?" Lane's voice repeated his nickname for the blond softly as if he were saying a prayer. "You don't know how long I have been waiting to see you again. You have no idea how much I've missed you." Lane's eyes never left the blond, blue-eyed vision finally standing in front of him; he had anxiously waited so long for this moment. Justin looked even more captivating than he had remembered; Lane was totally enthralled as he held his breath. He did not want to somehow frighten his angel now that he was finally standing almost within reach of him. Just the thought of being able to touch him made his heart beat faster and his body tingle with excitement.
Justin continued to stand rooted to the spot, hoping he was just imaging the man in front of him, but he finally found his voice. "It was you? YOU sent me all those gifts?" he asked breathlessly, as he tried to calm himself.
Lane smiled affectionately at the younger man, as he gradually rose from his seat. He wanted so badly to touch the other man, to kiss him, to feel his arms around him again. "Yes, Angel, it was me," he admitted, slowly walking toward the other man. He did not want to frighten him, but his words came rushing out in a reverent torrent. "And I meant every word. Everything I said came from my heart. I haven't stopped thinking about you since the first day I saw you. I dream about you every night. I can't get you out of my mind, Justin. I still want to give you the world, if you will only let me," he added fervently. By now Lane was only a few feet away from Justin, still much too far away for his taste, but close enough to smell the other man's shampoo, soap, and other smells that were uniquely Justin's. He took a deep breath; he was totally intoxicated by the blond's mere proximity.
"Lane," Justin began, noticing the other man's pleased reaction at the sound of him saying his name. Justin was alarmed by the other man's intensity; this was not the pleasant, charming man he had met several months ago who had eventually given up on his hopes of them being together. Instead, the man he had remembered had somehow been transfigured into the driven, single-minded force now standing before him; a man who was obsessed with only one thing – him. Justin didn't dare do anything to make this man angry; he had no idea what he might be capable of. Justin realized with horror that he didn't know this man standing in front of him any longer, and it frightened him greatly.
"Come and sit with me, Angel," the dark-haired man said coaxingly, finally venturing to reach out and gently grasp Justin's left wrist; noticing Justin flinching at his touch, Lane chided, "Now, now, Angel, is that any way to treat your most fervent admirer? All I want is to spend some time with you. It's just a lunch. Please?" he pleaded.
Justin trembled at the other man's touch, forcefully having to stifle the response he really wanted to give the other man; unfortunately, Lane read Justin's trembling as excitement over being with him. Encouraged, he gently pulled at the blond, urging him to sit down. Justin's head was spinning; he didn't know what to do, and looking around, he noticed inexplicably that there was no one anywhere near their private room. He finally sat down at the table, as far away from the other man as possible.
Extremely pleased with his progress so far, Lane smiled. "That's better, Angel," he purred. "That didn't hurt a bit, did it?"
Justin swallowed the large lump in his throat; he was so confused. "Lane, how did you get here? I don't understand."
"Vince and I are old friends," he explained. "After I told him how enchanted I was with you, and how badly I wanted to see you again, he graciously helped me to set up this little lunch date. Clever, isn't it?"
Justin shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind. "So this was a set-up? He wasn't interested in my art at all?" He tried to hide his disappointment; he really thought this was going to be a big opportunity to boost his career.
"Oh, don't get me wrong, Angel. Vince didn't know much about your art at first. But he told me after seeing the first painting completed that he really DOES like it. Very much. In fact, he's prepared to follow through on his plans for the remodeling. Just because he helped me with my greatest heart's desire doesn't mean he wants to renege on his agreement with you. He fully intends to honor it. So you see, Angel? You get the best of BOTH worlds," he said enthusiastically.
Are you fucking kidding me? I don't want ANYTHING now to do with either one of you. His mind worked furiously, trying to decide how best to talk to this man without somehow making him angry… or worse.
"Lane," he said soothingly, trying his best to placate his dining companion. "I'm really flattered by all this attention, but I thought I was clear before. I'm in love with Brian – that is not going to change, no matter how much you might want it to. If anything, my love for him has only gotten stronger. Can't you understand? What you apparently feel for me is the same way I feel for Brian. You deserve someone that feels the same way about you that you feel about them. Don't you agree?" he asked the other man softly.
Lane studied the blond intently, his eyes never leaving Justin's face as he spoke. What Justin was saying really didn't even register with him; he was too transfixed by the other man's sapphire blue eyes and full lips, so he did not have any outward reaction to the other man's gentle rejection of him. The only thought in his mind at that moment was how to keep Justin with him – forever.
Justin noticed Lane did not appear upset by what he was saying. Good – maybe he's finally realizing how fruitless this pursuit is. He doesn't seem particularly upset by what I'm saying. He kept trying to determine from the other man's expression when it might be the best time to end this encounter. The only thing he wanted to do at that moment was safely walk away from this surreal situation and return to the man he loved – Brian.
At the thought of his lover, Justin cringed inwardly. If Brian knew what was going on right now, he would kill this man – Justin had no doubt of it. In a way, then, he was relieved that Brian was still in Chicago, oblivious to what was going on. Now all he had to do was find an effective way to get out of this restaurant and back to Pittsburgh before Brian became concerned over his partner missing their evening check-in. I will never take your concerns for me lightly ever again, Brian.
Vaguely, Justin heard Lane asking him something. "What did you say?" he asked the other man.
"I said – I understand, Angel. I 'm very disappointed, of course, but above everything, I want most of all for you to be happy. And if being with this other man is what it takes, I will just have to accept that. At least let me a make a toast to your happiness before you go," he said gracefully. The older man picked up one of the two glasses filled with champagne and offered it to Justin, smiling regretfully.
Nervously, Justin decided it was best to humor his dining companion, accepting the proffered glass from the other man. He was relieved that Lane seemed to finally be accepting that they would never be together.
Raising his glass in sync with Lane's, he waited impatiently for the other man to present his toast. "Here's to Justin, my angel. May he always find the happiness he so rightly deserves, and with the man who most deserves his love," he recited solemnly. He then lifted his glass to his lips to take a taste, looking expectantly at Justin to do the same.
Justin mimicked the other man's actions, bringing the bubbly liquid to his lips and taking a moderate taste to pacify the other man; he was eager to get this over and get out of there quickly.
Lane looked at him intently, Justin thought almost as if he were waiting for something. Well, your time with me is OVER, Lane. Standing up, Justin prepared to move toward the double doors to finally make his escape from his ardent admirer. He took four steps before he suddenly felt dizzy; his eyes began to blur and the room seemed to be tilting. He felt lightheaded and nauseous. He tried to stagger back toward the table to grasp onto it for support, but to no avail. Just before he blacked out, he felt Lane reaching out and grabbing him possessively before he fell to the ground.