Everyone Has Secrets

by Edward Kendrick

  What happened was—we went back to his place. We stripped the moment we entered the bedroom and hit the bed where I sprawled over him after he grabbed the lube and a couple of condoms from the dresser drawer. Taking one, I sheathed his cock then went down on him. His cock is impressive, to put it mildly, but that didn’t stop me from swallowing it more than once while teasing his nipples and balls. I didn’t let him come, eliciting a few well-chosen words from him. Something to do with payback among other things.

  Grinning, I rolled on my back. He sheathed my cock and set to work. Bill has a very talented mouth and he uses it well. I was on the verge when he released me, his fingers tight around the base of my cock. “Who tops this time?” he asked, reaching for the lube.

  I generally did, but I knew he liked to sometimes which was fine with me. Sex is sex, after all, and it was the end result that counted. I turned over onto my hands and knees.

  “Guess that answers that,” he said. Seconds later he pushed two lubed fingers into me, searching with one for my sweet spot while stretching my entrance. He found it, eliciting several groans of need from me. I retained enough control over my flaming libido not to come—yet. I almost lost the battle when he pulled his fingers out, replacing them with his cock. He did it slowly, allowing the flares of pain I felt to abate. Then it was time for the real thing. He began fucking me. I lunged back each time to take him fully in. He wrapped one hand around my cock, pumping it. The pleasure grew. I rode it until it became too much. My balls tightened and I exploded. A few more thrusts from him and he came, too.

  “Great, as always,” Bill gasped when talking became possible.

  “Yep,” I agreed. It had been. We were good together that way. I sat up, stripped off our condoms, and took them to the bathroom, depositing them in the toilet before washing up. All the while, I could feel his gaze on me.

  When I returned and began to get dressed, he asked wistfully, “Do you have to leave?”

  I brushed a strand of hair off his forehead, nodding. “I have to work in the morning. So do you. Sleep is needed if we’re to be at the top of our games.”

  “Spoilsport,” he grumbled. “I’ll see you at the club tomorrow night?”

  “Maybe. I haven’t planned that far ahead.” I had the feeling I might be avoiding the club for at least a couple of days. He was becoming a bit too…involved? Not a good thing as far as I was concerned. Besides which, he knew I didn’t do ‘serious’. I finished dressing, said “See you later,” and left, making certain the door to his apartment locked behind me.

  Chapter 5

  Around nine Monday morning I called the electronics firm where Wilmer worked, asking if I could make an appointment to talk with him. The receptionist said he wouldn’t be back in his office until Tuesday, which was all I needed to know. I hung up and told Dora I was ready to see Mr. Kelly, one of my regular clients.

  By the time one-thirty came around, I’d dealt with three clients in person, and several by phone. It was time to close up shop for the day. I went home and changed into casual clothes. Given the temperature, I wore my peacoat and a watchcap. Then, after I’d set the alarm and locked up, I went down to the garage to get my car and proceeded on to Wilmer’s place.

  I took the easy way this time. No boat rented—just a stroll around the lake. I figured the fact the community was gated was to keep out joy riders, salesmen, and the like.

  It was cloudy, with a chill wind, telling me we might have the first snow of the season by morning. Taking the path from the lake that led between Wilmer’s house and the neighbor’s, I thought I saw a light on in one of the side rooms of his place. I got to the sidewalk and paused. One of the garage doors was open, allowing me to see a car, with the trunk open. A moment later a man I quickly identified as Garvin Wilmer came into view. He took out a suitcase, slammed the trunk closed, and then disappeared into the house by a side door.

  I strolled once around the cul de sac’s sidewalk, perfectly happy not to run into Ms. Johnson. When I was back at Wilmer’s house, I went to the front door and rang the bell. The door opened a couple of moments later. Wilmer stood there, looking at me with a question on his face.

  Deciding to cut to the chase, I told him, “I’m a friend of Lorne Reynell, Kyler’s brother.” For a moment it looked as if he was going to slam the door in my face, or at least deny he knew who I was talking about. Then, with a sigh of resignation, he stepped to one side to let me in.

  “I wondered when someone would, well, find out I knew Kyler,” he said after closing the door.

  “You didn’t make it easy,” I responded.

  He nodded, then, asking me to follow him, he led the way into a well-appointed living room, gesturing to one of the armchairs by the fireplace.

  “We were supposed to go away together on a vacation,” he said without preamble. “I was picking him up that afternoon. He was so happy. We both were.” Each sentence came out as if it was a struggle for him to say them. “I didn’t know until I got there what had happened.” Swallowing hard, he stared down at the floor. “He didn’t…He wouldn’t have killed himself.” He looked up at me again. “He wouldn’t have!”

  “Lorne feels the same way, and from what little I’ve learned, I tend to agree,” I replied. “But…”

  “That being the case, who did kill him?” He looked hard at me. “I didn’t, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Then, finally, it seemed to sink in that he had no idea who I was, so he asked.

  “My name is Brant Colton. Lorne and I…No, the three of us, belong to the same club.”

  “What club?” he asked, going on the defensive now.

  “The one you’re a special member of. Where, from what I understand, you and Kyler used to meet, at the beginning.” I held up my hand to stop him from denying it, which it looked as if he might. “Trust me, I have no more desire to have the police and the news people swarming the club than you or any of the other members do. I have some questions, however.”

  “Why are you involving yourself in this?”

  “As I said, I’m a friend of Lorne’s. A new one, and no, there’s nothing more to it than friendship.”

  “Right. If he’s a member of the club…” He gave me a knowing look.

  “He only joined because he wanted to find you. He wants to hear your side of the story.”

  “He wants to be sure I didn’t push Kyler off the balcony,” Gavin said angrily.

  “Partly, yes. I think he also needs to know, if indeed you didn’t, whether you have any idea who might have.”

  “If I knew, the bastard would be dead now,” Gavin growled, glaring at me. Then his expression softened. “I cared deeply for Kyler. He felt the same way about me. Yeah, we’d only known each other a short time, but that doesn’t mean our feelings were any the less real. In time…Who knows?”

  “Do you mind my asking why you were a special member of the club?”

  “Yeah, I do. It has nothing to do with what happened.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “Dead certain,” he replied adamantly.

  “You’d better hope you’re right,” I replied. “Because someone is dead, and if I find out it has anything to do with you…”

  “It didn’t. It couldn’t have. I was at the club…” He stopped, shaking his head. “Just take my word for it, it isn’t related to why Kyler was murdered.”

  His not finishing his sentence worried me. I had jokingly thought, when I began trying to find out about Gavin Wilmer, aka Rob Roberts, that maybe he was a secret agent. Now I wondered if I’d been on the right track without knowing it. If he had been undercover…That idea didn’t make me a happy camper, all things considered. What if he was there because Saunders had decided to rat me out? No, that made no sense. I blackmailed Saunders long after Kyler had died. That didn’t mean Gavin wasn’t an undercover cop. I’m sure some of the special members have reasons for hiding their sexuality other than keeping a wife or boss from finding out.

  “Would it b
e possible for me to meet Lorne? I mean, would he be willing?” Gavin said.

  “I can ask him. He’s probably still at work but let me call. If he is willing, we can set up a time this evening?”

  “That would be fine with me.”

  I called Lorne, catching him between customers according to him. I told him Gavin wanted to meet him, and he agreed. “But not at my place,” he said.

  Covering the phone, I said to Gavin, “I can bring him out here, unless you’d rather not.”

  “No. Here is fine.”

  So I told Lorne I’d pick him up at his place at seven.

  * * * *

  “Fancy,” Lorne said as we pulled up to the entrance of the gated community where Gavin lived.

  “Wait until you see his house,” I replied, before I told the security guard at the gate that we were here to see Gavin. He checked then let us in. For a moment I wasn’t certain I could find Gavin’s place, coming in the legitimate way. I did though, parking in front.

  The door opened as we walked onto the porch, and Gavin ushered us inside. “I made coffee, and I have beer,” he told us once we were seated in the living room. He couldn’t seem to take his gaze off Lorne. “You…I’d know you were his brother, even if no one told me,” he said. He looked forlorn. Not surprising if what he had told me about loving Kyler was the truth—and I was beginning to think it was.

  “We look a lot alike. Looked…” Lorne sighed. “I would like coffee, if you don’t mind.”

  “Brant?” When I nodded, Gavin got up, leaving the room.

  “He’s not what I expected,” Lorne murmured.

  “How do you figure? You’ve barely met him,” I replied.

  “He’s sad, for starters. And he’s older. More your age than Kyler’s.”

  “I think I should be insulted,” I told him, smiling wryly.

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” he protested. “It’s just…From that picture I have of them together. I know it’s not a good one, but I guess I figured they had to be the same age.”

  “I’m thirty-five,” Gavin said, coming into the room with a tray that held cups, a bowl of sugar, and a pitcher of cream. He set the tray on the coffee table. “Nine years older than Kyler. It didn’t bother either of us.”

  “Age shouldn’t matter,” Lorne replied, “if you care about each other.”

  “Which we did,” Gavin said as we all doctored our coffees—or not, in my case, since I take it black. “If you have any questions, Lorne…”

  “Was he afraid of someone?” Lorne asked. “If he was, he never said anything to me, but you were closer to him I think—at the end.” From the look on Lorne’s face, that idea hurt.

  Gavin must have picked up on it too, because he replied, “I doubt it. You meant the world to him. Hell, he worried if he didn’t talk to you at least a few times a week. He joked, once, that you knew as much about his life as he did, and vice versa. In answer to your question, I don’t think so. He was tense, those last couple of days, but when I asked, he said it was because he’d taken a new photography assignment and was trying to figure out how to approach it.”

  “What did it involve?” I asked.

  “He wouldn’t say, other than to assure me our going on our trip wouldn’t affect it.”

  “Did you tell that to the police?” Lorne wanted to know.

  “I never talked to them.”

  “Why not? If you had, maybe you could have convinced them to look at Kyler’s death as a murder, not suicide.”

  “If I told the police why I was sure Kyler didn’t kill himself, it could have, probably would have come out that I belonged to the club. Sure, supposedly only the police would know, but things can leak out.”

  Gavin seemed—not afraid as much as apprehensive about the idea. So I called him on it. “You were undercover there, weren’t you?”

  “He was what?” Lorne said in disbelief.

  “It all adds up, Lorne,” I replied, keeping my gaze on Gavin. “There’s no reason Gavin has to hide the fact he’s gay. I already told you that. And yet he was keeping his presence at the club a secret, and when he was there, it was upstairs. Possibly spending time in the lounge I told you about, as if he’s waiting for someone. Right, Gavin?”

  Gavin had the good sense not to bluster and try to deny what I was saying. “Time to lay my cards on the table, I guess,” he said dryly. “Are you sure you’re just a financial planner, Brant. You’d make a damned good detective.”

  I smiled and remained silent.

  “To start with, I do work for an engineering firm, and often travel as part of the job. That’s my cover. I’m also a federal agent.”

  Obviously startled, Lorne shook his head. “You’re telling us there’s some club member you were after?”

  “Yes. I won’t tell you who, or why. That’s not relevant. Besides which, he’s in prison now. I got what I needed about a month after I met Kyler.”

  I looked hard at Gavin. “Are you certain there’s no connection between this man and Kyler’s death?”

  “As certain as I can be. I’m good at what I do, Brant. The man in question doesn’t know I’m the one who brought him down. If you’re thinking he might have found out, and took revenge on me by having Kyler killed, I don’t see that as an option. Kyler and I kept our relationship secret.”

  “Did he know what you do?” Lorne asked. “Is that why I never got to meet you?”

  “Yes. As soon as I realized he meant more to me than just a friend, I sat him down and explained everything.” Gavin grimaced, obviously thinking about that talk. “He wasn’t too happy with me at first. He didn’t like the fact it put me in danger—at least from his vantage point. I think your brother was a bit too much into spy movies, Lorne.”

  “He loved them,” Lorne replied with a wistful smile.

  “I’m not buying the fact this man you were after doesn’t know about you. If the information is out there, someone can find it. I managed to find you.”

  “I know, and I’m not happy about that.” He got up and began to pace, finally stopping in front of me. “How?”

  Getting what he meant, I replied, “I know about the nicknames the club gives special members. When Lorne told me Kyler’s boyfriend was ‘Rob Roberts,’ I figured things out.”

  “So then what? I know you couldn’t have asked someone what my real name is. It’s top secret. It has to be if the members are going to trust that they’ll remain anonymous.” He rapped a knuckle against his chin. “The only way would be if you hacked into the club’s computer system—which would make you an expert at such things. As part of checking to make certain no one could find out who I really am, I had one of our people try. He managed to—eventually—but it wasn’t easy.”

  I shrugged. “I had a good teacher when I was in college.”

  “That was a while ago, to look at you,” Gavin said acerbically. “You must keep in practice. Why?”

  “It’s fun?”

  He didn’t seem to buy that, but after a quick glance at Lorne, he dropped the subject. I had the feeling we’d get back to it at some future date. That idea did not make me happy.

  Lorne was paying attention to our conversation. Now he said, “If Brant found you, then the guy you were after probably could too, no matter how clever you think you are.”

  “Anything is possible, Lorne. The world could disappear under a torrential flood, given the right set of circumstances. But I’m very certain the piece of scum I took down, and his people, didn’t find me. If they had, I wouldn’t be standing here talking to you.”

  “Then who the hell killed my brother?”

  Gavin sat down beside Lorne, saying quietly, “I intend to find out.”

  “How? I mean, if you can, why haven’t you done it already?”

  Gavin looked as me, muttering, “The kid has a point.”

  “I’m not a kid,” Lorne protested.

  “Okay.” Gavin leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “First off, I was put on anothe
r job not long after I turned over the evidence I had on the guy from the club. It was one of the reasons Kyler and I were going off on what he told you was a vacation.”

  “Meaning,” I put in, “for you it was part of whatever this job was, and you were taking Kyler along as protective covering.”

  “Yes. With his permission. I told him what was going on, he agreed the man, and the organization he ran, needed to be stopped.”

  “What are the chances this man knew you were a ringer?” I asked.

  “I’m good at what I do, Brant.”

  “That didn’t answer my question.”

  “Okay. Sure, anyone who goes undercover takes a chance someone will make them. It’s part of the business. To the best of my knowledge, no one in his organization made me. I was supposed to deliver a package to…let’s call him Mr. Big. Until his top man here gave me that assignment, I only knew Mr. Big was somewhere back east. He’s very elusive, which is why I was sent in—to locate him.”

  “Why take Kyler with you?” Lorne wanted to know.

  “Protective coloring, as Brant put it. My idea was, we would be two men on a business trip for the engineering company where I work. The man in charge of Mr. Big’s organization here agreed it was a good plan, since I told him Kyler and I often did that. If he had checked, my boss there would have backed me up.”

  “You were undercover and still holding down your day job?” Lorne didn’t look as if he believed that.

  “Yes. Mr. Big’s organization has its fingers in a lot of pies. One of them is an engineering company comparable to the one I work for. That was my in, when I went undercover. That I knew what I was talking about and could be useful to them, once I proved myself. Delivering the package was the first step, after they checked out my story. The one I gave them that I’d been screwed by my bosses and was looking for a way to get back at the company, from the inside, which I why I didn’t quit.”

  “And the company backed you up?”

  Gavin nodded, taking a drink of coffee before continuing. “I picked up the package, and my luggage, and headed to Kyler’s place to get him.” Gavin drew in a deep breath. “I walked into an active police scene. They wouldn’t let me into the building. When I asked, they only told me that someone had committed suicide by jumping off their balcony. I wouldn’t have known it was Kyler if I hadn’t overheard one of the cops telling a reporter that all they had at the moment was a possible name for the victim. Kyler Reynell.” Gavin buried his face in his hands. “I wanted to die, or to scream and hit someone, or tell them he wouldn’t have killed himself. Instead, I left. I know you won’t understand, Lorne, but I had a job which needed doing.”