A Casual Weekend Thing

by A. J. Thomas

  “You are awake,” Doug said with a smile. “Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

  Christopher shook his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Doug’s smile, cautious but still warm, made his heart flutter. Doug was using both of his arms, with no sling or bandages now, but he still looked worn out. His hair was a mess and his chin was covered with enough stubble to count as a beard. Christopher wanted to touch the stubble on his chin, to feel it against his lips. That smile was too damn inviting. He turned toward the door, where Belkamp was sitting on one of the round wheeled chairs. “What did you learn about Brubaker? What was the link?”

  “High Desert State Prison in Susanville, California,” said Belkamp. “The maximum security unit.”

  “Peter served time there.”

  “Yes. He spent four of his six years there. Greg Brubaker was the graveyard shift supervisor for the unit during your brother’s entire sentence. Brubaker went on administrative leave about a month after your brother was paroled. There were allegations that he had engaged in inappropriate conduct with a trustee, but the inmate in question had left the prison by then and a thorough investigation proved to be impossible. They urged Brubaker to find another job, and he was even given a glowing recommendation so they could get rid of him quickly and quietly. He took a position with the Baker County Sheriff’s Office because he could start as a sergeant, even though it paid less than a job in California would have. And probably because corrections officers gossip just like police officers.”

  “So how did Peter end up here?” asked Christopher.

  “A later source, who I am choosing to believe is credible, reported that the inappropriate conduct was a manipulative sexual relationship in which favors were exchanged in quiet sections of the prison. After he was released, your brother spent a few more years in California, until he was off probation. Once he was off paper, he vanished and turned up here. From what I’ve been able to piece together, they had a volatile sexual relationship for a few months before they picked up a local girl, chatted her up, and blackmailed her into performing for both of them. They developed a pattern in which Hayes would groom and comfort their victims, while Brubaker held the threat of jail time over their heads. Or they would travel to bigger towns and pick up runaways. The videos they made were never bought or sold, and they’re not online, as far as our people can tell. Micah Donovan appears to have been the breaking point between them. Hayes fell in love and didn’t want to share him, or to let Brubaker dispose of him. Brubaker began bringing Hayes and Donovan in on all kinds of charges, including his last DUI, which got him sent to prison for a few months. When he got out, Brubaker picked up Donovan, raped him, beat him, and left him on Hayes’s bed.”

  “You found a victim?” Christopher asked, knowing that information could only have come firsthand.

  “No. Forensics estimates we’ve found the remains of up to eighteen kids, scattered between Hayes’s home, Brubaker’s home, and the area around the cabin. Most we haven’t been able to ID. You got IDs on eight of them, but it’ll be a long time before we can sort through the rest.”

  “So who is your source?”

  “Micah Donovan kept a journal. The last of those discs includes a couple of videos of Micah Donovan talking to the cameraman—I’m assuming it’s Hayes. He told Donovan to run away, told him he knew somebody who could end things, but that Brubaker would kill them both if he found out.”

  “The kid didn’t run very far.”

  “No, he didn’t. The last entry in his journal, from right after the fire, talks about how Peter was wrong about his brother, how his brother was just another one of Brubaker’s pawns,” Belkamp told them.

  “He saw us together at the scene of the fire.” Christopher nodded. “Then he ran like hell. He ran away again when I saw him at the church.”

  “So he really was afraid for his life, up at Lone Pine. Brubaker was right behind me.”

  “No,” said Belkamp. “Your instincts on that were right on. The last entry in his journal is a suicide note, apologizing to his grandma and telling her to give his diary to the FBI. He went up to Lone Pine to kill himself.”

  “Then Greg set the fire,” Doug went on. He sat down on the edge of Christopher’s bed. “Probably right after I introduced him to you at the track on Monday night. I was wondering why he wasn’t at the Hay Loft, after he’d invited you.”

  “We’re concluding that he did. He was the only one with a motive who can’t be accounted for during that period. Shaffer said the fire was set with gasoline, which is easy enough to get ahold of and easy to store. Brubaker had three big jugs of it up at his cabin. He didn’t want a homicide detective inheriting all of the evidence left in that house. It didn’t do him any good, though. He underestimated everybody, from the local fire department to you. I think he really was expecting the fire department to hand the arson investigation over to him. When Shaffer was called in and you implicated Donovan as a potential suspect in the fire, he panicked and used his position to try to silence Donovan before he could talk.”

  “And I encouraged it.” Christopher cringed. “I told Doug to find him.”

  “The person who started the fire really was out to get him,” said Belkamp. “When Brubaker saw you talking to Donovan at the last minute, I think he assumed he could still stop everything from coming out. That, or he blamed you for all of it. Did he say anything to you?”

  Christopher shook his head. “Everything is a little blurry now. He kept asking what Micah told me. And he ranted about Peter. I… I know this sounds fucked up, but I think he missed him, or he was upset that he was dead, anyway. They might know more,” he said, gesturing to Doug and Ray.

  “He said if you hadn’t gone to the police as a kid, presumably if Peter hadn’t gone to prison, they never would have met. He felt like Peter turned him gay, turned him into a pedophile.”

  “I just wish you two had managed to wound him instead of killing him. We’ve found a lot of bodies that might never have names attached to them, probably runaways he picked up somewhere else.”

  “At least nineteen kids, counting Micah Donovan…,” Christopher whispered.

  “The terrain is difficult up there,” Belkamp said softly. “Brubaker owned a five-acre tract of land in the forest, and his home is built on another two acres just south of town. It’s going to take a while before we can say it’s only nineteen.”

  All four men were silent for a few moments. Even Ray put his ever-present phone away.

  “What about Liedes?” Christopher asked.

  “He’s visited twice,” Doug said. “He still gives me the creeps. The feds issued a press release apologizing for the arrest and thanking him for his assistance in finding the real perpetrator.”

  “Why’d he visit?”

  “Peter. He said he’s taken care of your brother’s ashes for now, and he’ll stop by to talk about it when you’re feeling better.”

  “So, do you think you three might be interested in coming to work for us?” Belkamp asked.

  “Join the FBI?” Doug asked. “I don’t know. After working with both of these guys, I don’t feel like I’m even playing in their league.”

  Christopher watched his partner’s body language carefully, not because of the offer, but because of Doug’s comment. If Doug hadn’t impressed Ray, Christopher knew his partner wouldn’t hesitate to say it. He was not as comfortable dishing out praise as he was criticism, and from the way Ray pulled out his phone and refocused on it, he knew his partner thought Doug was selling himself short too.

  “I don’t think you should, but not because I doubt your ability,” said Christopher. “Elkin is likely to lose all of its senior officers over this. Anyone they keep will be the same… what word am I looking for here, Ray?”

  “Incompetent, impotent, narcissistic assholes who shouldn’t be trusted to serve as crossing guards?”

  “Ouch. Man, I thought we were on the same page.”

  “We are. You’re just too nice. What he�
��s trying to say,” Ray said as he looked up at Doug, “is that you’re the only officer in this entire town who appears remotely capable of doing your job. If you jump ship, the people of this town are fucked.”

  Christopher nodded. His partner didn’t swear much, and he only did it when he felt embarrassed or threatened. Doug must have really impressed him for Ray to be irritated about it.

  He watched Doug, who was looking from Christopher to Ray and back again. “That was a compliment, wasn’t it?”

  Christopher nodded again. “More than you know.”

  “Fuck you,” Ray muttered.

  “Anyway,” Christopher said, turning back toward Belkamp, “I can’t. I’m looking at eight weeks in a cast, four weeks in a brace, then up to a year of physical therapy before I can even think about running. What about you, Ray?”

  “Bring even more shame to my family? Mi abuela’s already banned me from Sunday dinners, you know.” Ray’s smirk grew into a bright, manic smile.

  Christopher wanted to argue with him, but he wouldn’t do it in front of Doug and the FBI agent. Having met both the civilian side of Ray’s family and the organized-crime side, he knew Ray’s job had cut him off from what had once been a tight-knit and loving community of uncles, aunts, and distant cousins. He knew too well that when his partner said things with that bright smile on his face, he was just trying to disguise the fact that he was not lying at all.

  He caught Ray’s eyes, trying to offer what support he could without embarrassing him. Oddly, his partner’s eyes were sparkling and smiling with mischief. Ray glanced at Belkamp and tried to discreetly mouth the word “gay?”

  “Totally,” said Christopher aloud.

  “Totally what? Would your family really be embarrassed by you joining the FBI?”

  “Embarrassed, no. They would be ashamed and enraged,” Ray said with an even brighter smile. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, then stood up and stretched his arms over his head. “Tell you what,” he said, actually letting his hips sway as he walked toward the skinny FBI agent, “why don’t I buy you lunch, and maybe a beer, and you can spend a few hours trying to persuade me.”

  Christopher had seen his partner do this a hundred times with girls. He just rolled his eyes. Doug’s mouth was hanging open.

  “Persuade you?” Belkamp didn’t even try to hide his own interest. He stood up as Ray got close to him.

  Ray slinked past Belkamp, into the open door. “Give me the whole sales pitch. Benefits… education and experience required… positions available….”

  Belkamp took hold of Ray’s hip, a move that would have gotten any man a broken arm just a few months ago, and tugged him just a bit closer. “I can do that. Of course, anything we discuss couldn’t be considered a binding offer….”

  “Good. I’ll see you later, Hayes!” Ray tugged Belkamp out. He poked his head in a moment later, waved, and then pulled the door shut behind him.

  Doug was still gaping. “Did he just….”

  “Yes.”

  “Does he always….”

  “Yes.”

  “But it’s not even noon!”

  “I told you he’s an asshole,” Christopher reminded him. “And he really is a great guy.”

  “I’ve realized that,” Doug admitted. Doug ran his fingers over the back of Christopher’s hand. “Even if I will never, ever admit it again. How much of that were you awake for?”

  He saw the blush rise in Doug’s cheeks and laced his fingers with Doug’s. “You mean you and Ray sniping at each other? Ray can be an asshole, but….” Christopher shook his head. “What he said… I’ve always gone for the same type of guy,” he explained. “I’m a sucker for the tall, dark, and handsome look. Aside from the hair and skin tone, you’re nothing like him. I wouldn’t have….” Christopher stopped. He couldn’t say that he wouldn’t have fallen for Ray the way he had for Doug. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake he’d made in the cabin and scare Doug off.

  “I mean,” said Doug, “when I said that I would take what I can get?”

  “I was awake for that,” Christopher whispered. He let go of Doug’s hand. This was it, the part where Doug told him he had meant what he said when he was the one stuck in the hospital bed. Where he told Christopher he was up for sex, but that was all. Christopher had definitely crossed the line into the “more than sex” territory at the cabin.

  “If we can be friends, I’d like that,” said Doug, taking Christopher’s hand again.

  “Friends…,” Christopher agreed, feeling his chest begin to ache.

  “But if there’s a chance that this could turn into something, something more than hanging out, I want to try… I know this is insane, especially since we just met, but… I don’t want this to end.”

  Christopher shut his eyes and tried to hold back the flood of emotions surging through him. “I don’t want this to end either, but I can’t drag you into my life right now. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. I can’t go back to work, and I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be able to walk again, much less run. I’ve got more issues than anybody should ever have to deal with, and I’ve probably acquired a few more thanks to this nightmare. Plus, I live in California. It just wouldn’t….”

  “Chris.” Doug tightened his grip. “I need to make this very clear, because I don’t want to mess things up. I love you. I think you feel something for me too. If there’s a chance you do, well, then, whatever your future might be, I want it to include me. I’ll follow you to California, if you’re willing to try. If you end up with more issues because of Brubaker, I want to help you through it. I want more than a casual weekend thing.”

  Christopher felt like he was suffocating. “You’d do that? You’d leave your family’s land to be with me?” He was stunned. In the weeks they had known each other, Doug had seen the worst of Christopher. How could he possibly love him?

  “I have held on to that land for two years and hated every minute of it. The only time I’ve felt at home in that house was when you were there with me. These past two years, I didn’t even feel like I was really alive, just like I was letting time pass. I don’t care enough about that ranch to let you walk away without at least finding out if we have a chance.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “I’m a serious guy. And I’ve got my share of issues too.”

  Christopher stared at him, too overwhelmed to come up with anything to say. When he saw Doug’s shoulders slump, saw the misery take shape in Doug’s eyes when he took Christopher’s silence for rejection, he pulled Doug toward him. “I am completely and totally in love with you. But I can’t ask you to leave your home, and I’m not going to just walk away from mine. This is going to take time to sort out. Luckily, I have eight weeks of being an invalid, and then who knows how many months of physical therapy ahead of me. Think you could put up with a bedridden houseguest for a bit?”

  “You’re willing to stay? Bedridden? With me?”

  “I never thought I’d like the sound of the word ‘bedridden’,” Christopher said with a smile. “Afterwards….” He shrugged.

  “I’ve missed surfing,” Doug admitted.

  “I love your ranch,” Christopher countered. “But I would love to see you surf.”

  “So long as we’re together, I don’t care. Either way, we’ve got time to figure it out.” Doug leaned down to kiss him. The kiss started as a sweet touch, a soft press of lips on his own, but then Christopher grabbed Doug’s head and pulled him closer. He was starving for Doug’s touch, for his taste. All it took was a single flick of Doug’s tongue against his lips to drive Christopher’s heart rate into a frenzy. He attacked Doug’s tongue and tried to block out the damn beeping coming from the machine beside his bed.

  “Mr. Hayes,” his surgeon called from the door.

  Doug drew back fast, squeezing his eyes shut. He was blushing so brightly Christopher wished he had a camera.

  “When I said no strenuous activity, I didn’t just mean you
had to stay off your feet.”

  Christopher tried not to laugh. “Could you take all these wires off? My surround-sound system has fewer cords coming out of it.”

  “No. Not until the cardiologist says it’s okay. If this is going to be an issue, I can try to get him to review the new EKGs right away. Detective Heavy Runner,” the surgeon said as he nodded to Doug and then practically ran out of the room.

  “I’m sorry,” whispered Christopher, laughing.

  “You are not!”

  “I am, I swear! You just look cute when you turn all pink like that. I love seeing you blush.”

  “You’re kind of cute when you turn pink too,” said Doug. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve wanted to touch you for days, but your partner growled at me every time I even touched your hand.”

  “Ray doesn’t growl.”

  “Over you, he does. Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s all over town by now.”

  “But he just saw us! He hasn’t even had time to go make crude jokes at the nursing station.”

  Doug pressed his finger against Christopher’s lips. “Not him. I came out to my ex. The day Brubaker kidnapped you, oddly enough. She was pretty understanding, but she’s never been good at keeping her mouth shut.”

  Christopher stared at him, trying to understand, but Doug’s fingers were distracting him. He wrapped his tongue around one of them and sucked it into his mouth, nipping and sucking on him until Doug’s eyes fell shut. “That’s not fair,” Doug gasped, pulling his finger back.

  “Does this mean I can kiss you?” Christopher asked.

  “Anytime. You’re worth coming out of the closet for.”

  Christopher tried his best to sit up, to claim Doug’s lips again, but with his entire leg in a cast, he didn’t have enough leverage. He settled for grabbing Doug’s jacket and pulling him down instead. Christopher kissed his lips and said, “You’re worth waking up for.”

  Christopher settled back on the bed, wondering how he’d ever found such an amazing guy, especially with his lousy track record. He had no idea what direction his life would go in now. He had to find something to do, he had to keep moving forward, but he and Doug could try moving forward together.