by A M Huff
“I forgot.”
“Well, get off my desk.” Again, Harrison slapped at the side of Justus’ leg.
Justus hopped down. “Oh!” he gasped and turned back toward Harrison. “Dean’s okay. He was in Bend last week.”
Harrison looked confused. “Okay, and we are happy because?”
“Just sayin’,” Justus answered and shrugged his shoulders indifferently. He headed back to the file room.
Justus tossed the card and envelope into the trash can under his desk and took the flowers down to Vicki. She was not at her desk so he left them for her.
Returning to his file room, he piled everything from his desk onto his chair. Once it was full, he wheeled it around to Debra’s old desk and unloaded it. After the switch was finished, he sat down and surveyed his new view. Instead of facing the wall, he now faced the doorway and could see whoever entered before they had the chance to startle him. He plugged in his CD player and pressed the power button. Instantly the CD began playing where it had left off.
The rest of the morning passed quickly. Justus made his morning rounds, collecting files that needed to go back to the file room. He turned up his music and began putting the files away when he noticed Harrison standing in his doorway.
“Oh, hi,” Justus said and turned his CD player down a touch.
“Nice to see you’re back to your old self,” Harrison said. “What on earth are you listening to?”
“A CD of eighties dance music. Marcus made it for me.”
Harrison shook his head and laughed. “You have a call on my phone.”
“I do?” Justus said and looked panicked.
“No, it’s not him. It’s the police,” Harrison said to calm his fears.
“Oh,” Justus sighed with relief. “I gave the police your number. I figured you’re always at your desk so it would be the best number for them to reach me. I knew you wouldn’t mind.” He smiled and gave Harrison a wink.
Harrison gave him a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you sort of look.
“Did they sound like they had good news?” Justus asked while the two headed back to Harrison’s cubicle.
“I don’t know. The woman asked for you and I said I would go get you,” Harrison answered.
“I wonder if they found Jack,” Justus said when they reached Harrison’s desk. “Which line?”
“Here.” Harrison handed Justus the receiver, tapped his phone and then nodded to Justus.
“Hi, this is Justus,” he said while he sat down on his corner of Harrison’s desk.
“Mr. Reynolds, I’m Detective Kennedy with the Portland Police. I’ve been looking into the disappearance of Mr. O’Brien.”
“Yes,” Justus said, holding the receiver a little tighter, his heart beating a bit faster. He smiled at Harrison.
“I regret to inform you that—”
Justus listened and felt a sinking sensation in his chest. The smile on his face faded away. His shoulders slumped. He stopped wiggling his feet.
“Okay. Well, thank you for letting me know.” Justus leaned over and returned the receiver to its cradle.
“So?” Harrison asked while he sat leaning back in his chair. “What did she say? Did they find your friend?”
“No. They haven’t found him,” Justus answered. His shoulders slumped. He stared at the floor.
“Give them time, they’ll—”
“The police lady said they talked with everyone they could find at Stumptown and at his apartment building and haven’t come up with any leads. Since he’s an adult and he doesn’t have any known medical issues, they are suspending their investigation. She did say they’ll keep it open, but they won’t actively be working on it.”
“I’m so sorry, Justus,” Harrison said and rocked forward. “I wish I knew what else to say.”
“That’s okay,” Justus said, sounding defeated. “I guess I’ll have to tell the others.” He started to reach for Harrison’s phone but Harrison grabbed it.
“You can do that from your own phone,” he said.
“Fine,” Justus snapped.
“Or you could wait to tell them in person tonight. There’s no rush is there?”
“I guess not. You know,” he said while he stood up, “you should come out and have a drink with us one of these nights.”
Harrison raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. That’s not my scene,” he said and shook his head.
“Not my what?” Justus laughed. “Harry, no one says that anymore. You really need to keep up.” He laughed again. “Not my scene,” he repeated in a mock deep voice.
“Alright, get back to work.”
Heading back to the file room, Justus felt his spirits gradually lift. The dread he felt after the brief conversation with the police officer slowly faded. He decided to take Harrison’s advice and wait until the gang met up in a few hours to tell them.
Chapter Seven
Justus parked his car on SW 12th Avenue in front of the Presbyterian Church. He laughed to himself when he thought of the irony of it. The pastor of the church had opposed having a gay club go in less than a block away. He had argued they would take parking away from his parishioners. The owner of CC’s Nightclub countered with the argument that most of their clientele would be parking after normal business hours and not during the day, when the church would be having its services. The city planners agreed and CC’s was approved.
Normally Justus would have parked in his usual spot across from O’Bryant Square on SW 9th Avenue, but with the holiday and party, all the spaces filled up early. He locked the doors of his car and headed for Stumptown five blocks away.
A small cluster of people had gathered on the corner of SW 12th and Washington. A couple were dressed in drag, and Justus recognized them from posters that hung on the wall outside the restrooms at Stumptown. They were performers at Embers, a drag nightclub on the corner of Broadway and Burnside. According to the poster, the red-wigged queen was Miss Scarlett and the shorter, dark-haired queen was Cherry Royale.
While Justus waited for the walk light to change, he overheard bits of their conversation. It sounded as though the queens were trying to console one of the men.
“It’s going to be okay,” Miss Scarlett said in a slightly falsetto voice. She had an arm around a shorter man who was dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt. The man kept his head down.
“He doesn’t answer his phone and his neighbors said they haven’t seen him in a week.” His voice sounded strained.
“Excuse me, but who are you talking about?” Justus interrupted.
Cherry Royale’s back straightened. She turned and looked him up and down with a disdainful expression.
“No one you know, sweetie,” she said in a condescending but very manly voice. “So why don’t you mind your own business and beat it.”
Justus felt his face turn red. The light changed and he started to walk across the street ahead of them.
“Cherry!” Miss Scarlett snapped. “That was rude, even for you. Hey, kid,” she called to Justus. He stopped and turned around. “We were talking about another friend of ours who disappeared. No one has seen him.”
“I think I heard about him. Alexander?”
“Yes, he’s the one,” Miss Scarlett answered and looked puzzled.
“My friend Marcus told me about him,” Justus explained.
“Marcus Morelli?” one of the men asked in a surprised tone.
“Yes, you know him?” Justus answered and looked at the fourth man. He was husky and dark haired with a thick mustache and eyebrows. Not at all what Justus knew as Marcus’ type.
“I do,” he answered. “Tell him, Curtis says hi.”
“Okay,” Justus responded while he tried to focus back to their conversation. He looked back at Miss Scarlett. “I’m sorry.”
“We were talking about another friend, Cody,” she continued. The group stopped when they reached the other side of the street and huddled on the corner to talk.
“Cody?” Justus re
peated. He had not heard of him.
“The last time I saw him,” the man beside Miss Scarlett spoke, “was at their CC’s Mardi Gras party last Tuesday. He had been drinking a lot and working the crowd. Right before midnight he came up to me with some Hollywood-looking guy. He was all happy and excited. He whispered in my ear that the guy had been buying him drinks all night and was loaded. He said he thought he found his prince. I told him he was drunk and he wasn’t thinking clearly. He got all upset with me and left with the guy anyway. That was it, the last time I saw him.”
“It’s going to be okay, Patrick,” Miss Scarlett said and hugged him while he dried his eyes.
“Did you get the guy’s name?” Justus asked.
Patrick shook his head.
“What did he look like?” Justus asked feeling his heart begin to race. This was the first person who actually saw the man and could identify him.
“I don’t remember, exactly.”
“Come on, think!” Justus insisted.
“Hey! Hey!” Cherry Royale barked and stepped between Justus and Patrick. “He doesn’t remember. Leave him alone.”
“I’m sorry. A friend of mine, Jack, is missing too. He disappeared at the Stumptown’s Valentine’s Day party. No one knows anything and the police stopped looking—”
“That figures,” Cherry Royale quipped. “They’re only worried if some old straight guy with Alzheimer’s goes missing. They don’t care about people like us.”
“That’s a bit of exaggeration, Cherry,” Miss Scarlett said, but her expression seemed to say she agreed with Cherry.
“Whatever,” Cherry Royale said, brushing her off. “It’s true. Watch the news and see for yourself. They won’t even put his or Alexander’s disappearance on the news, but they’ll report on the mayor’s missing dog.”
“That’s true,” Curtis agreed and nodded. “I saw that.”
“Has anyone tried?” Justus asked. “I mean, calling the news.”
“I called the local station,” Curtis answered. “They said it wasn’t exciting enough or something like that.”
“Have you had any success with your friend?” Miss Scarlett asked and looked at Justus.
“I’ve only talked to the police and they couldn’t find any leads.”
“Well, maybe with three of us missing they might think it’s newsworthy,” she speculated.
“Possibly,” Justus answered.
“Hey, look at the time!” Cherry Royale said, holding up her arm and pointing at a man’s heavy wristwatch. “You’ve got forty-five minutes until your show. We better get going. See ya, kid.”
“I hope you find your friend,” Miss Scarlett said with a smile.
Justus watched the two queens rush off down the street, past CC’s, toward Burnside.
“You headed for CC’s?” Curtis asked while they walked along the sidewalk toward Stark Street. He stopped when they reached CC’s and opened the door. Loud country-western music poured out.
“No, I’m headed to Stumptown,” Justus answered and nodded toward Stark Street.
“Okay,” Curtis answered. “See ya’.” Patrick went into the club without speaking. Curtis followed letting the door close behind him.
Justus picked up his step. His mind whirled with the new information. Three people have disappeared but now there was a clue. The man was dark haired, a Hollywood type. Loaded and buying people drinks. Surely the police will do something now.
Stumptown’s Saint Paddy’s day bash was only for those who had prepurchased tickets, and a crowd of disappointed club-hoppers were gathered around the entrance. Justus felt the pocket of his shirt and found his. He showed it to the doorman and went inside.
Strings of green lights were draped above the bar. Cardboard cutouts of green-glittered shamrocks dangled from the ceiling on thin black threads. The DJ was dressed in a leprechaun costume complete with red wig and beard and green, buckled top hat. Justus grabbed a rum and Coke from the bar and headed across the dance floor to meet up with his friends.
“Isn’t this nuts!” Dale said while he stood dancing in place at their table. “Tons of new faces and hot men everywhere.”
“Yeah, it’s great,” Scotty said, sounding impressed but not as overjoyed as Dale.
Justus sat down beside Scotty.
“Where’s Marcus?” he asked.
Scotty motioned with his head toward the dance floor. Marcus was dancing with a shirtless man who had painted his chest green.
“Oh,” Justus answered. “Have you guys been here long?”
Scotty looked at his watch. “About a half an hour. We got here at eight thirty so we could grab a table. What took you so long?”
“I had to park on 12th, five blocks away.”
“Oh,” Scotty said and nodded.
A server appeared and took their order. Justus ordered their St. Paddy’s special, a green fruity drink in a large, round glass. Dale went for a mug of green beer and Scotty ordered a Coke. Marcus returned to the table right in time and ordered his drink.
Justus waited for the server to leave before he leaned toward the center of the table so he would not have to shout.
“Have I got news for you,” he started. “I heard from the police today.”
“You did?” Dale said, sounding anxious and shocked.
Justus looked at him and frowned, letting him know it was not good news. “A policewoman called to inform me they talked to the landlord and the bartenders at Stumptown, but no one saw anything. She said, since they don’t have any fresh leads and he’s a healthy adult, they’re suspending the search.”
“What?” Dale shouted in anger and disbelief.
“She said they’ll keep the file open in case something comes up.” Justus quickly added in an attempt to calm Dale.
“Oh great!” Dale grumbled.
“Well, maybe if we tell them about Alexander, they might—”
“They already know about him,” Justus interrupted Scotty. “However, I ran into Miss Scarlett from Embers and she said that another man is missing, a guy named Cody.”
Everyone looked shocked.
“When?” Marcus asked.
“Last Tuesday night at CC’s Mardi Gras party,” Justus answered. “By the way, Curtis says hi.”
Marcus smiled but appeared unfazed. “Did anyone see anything?”
“As a matter of fact, someone did. Cody’s friend Patrick saw the guy.”
“Really?” Dale sat forward in his chair.
“Yeah, but when I asked him what the guy looked like, he claims not to remember other than he was rich and was a Hollywood-looking guy.”
“Oh great! What’s that supposed to mean?” Dale groused and sat back, obviously disgusted.
“Well, with what we already know, he’s dark haired, handsome, and rich. He buys guys drinks,” Justus said.
“Oh, that’s good!” Dale remarked in a sarcastic tone. “I bet he even had two arms, two legs and a penis.”
“Not funny,” Justus snapped at him.
“Well, look around. Nearly every guy in here fits that description. How are we to figure out which one he is, if he’s even here?”
“Did they tell the police?” Marcus asked changing the subject.
“It didn’t sound like it. By the way Cherry Royale was talking, I doubt they will.”
“Why? What did she say?” Marcus asked.
“She thinks that the police and media won’t do anything for guys like us.”
“Well, she’s right,” Dale grumbled.
The server returned with their drinks. They all paid him and he headed away to the next table.
“So, now what do we do?” Scotty asked.
“What can we do? If the police can’t find him, how are we supposed to?” Marcus answered.
“I don’t know. We have to keep our eyes open.”
“Brilliant idea,” Dale said and took a big swig of his beer.
The conversation stalled. Marcus turned away to look at another green
man on the dance floor.
Justus looked around the nightclub. The men were packed in so tight that it was standing room only.
“Has anyone seen Dean?” he spoke up.
“I haven’t seen him,” Scotty answered.
“How should I know?” Dale sulked and continued to empty his beer mug.
“Well, if it helps, I haven’t seen your guy,” Marcus answered.
“He’s not my guy,” Justus insisted.
“You know what I mean,” Marcus said.
“So, how was your—” Justus was interrupted by the server, dressed in a green vest without a shirt underneath, setting a napkin in front of Scotty and then a colorful drink in a large wine glass.
“What’s this?” Scotty asked and gave the man a confused look.
“It’s a Layered Lemon Drop. It’s tinted green instead of yellow because of it being Saint Paddy’s Day.”
“But I didn’t order this.”
“I know,” the server answered. “It’s from that man at the end of the bar.” He waved and the man who bought the drink waved back.
Everyone turned to look. Justus felt his body go numb while Patrick’s words rushed back at him like a tsunami.
“Not bad,” Marcus said and raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t exactly call him a Hollywood type, but. . .”
“Does this have alcohol in it?” Scotty asked the server.
“This is a bar,” he answered in a duh sort of tone. “Yes.”
“Oh,” Scotty said and looked at the drink again. “Well, take it back, I don’t want it.”
The server looked surprised. “I can’t take it back. It’s already paid for.”
“Can I get another?” Marcus interrupted and held up his empty glass.
“Sure. You?”
“I’ll have another special,” Justus answered.
“What about you?” The server looked at Dale.
“I’ll have another green beer.”
“I’ll be right back.” The server slipped away.
“Scotty, don’t drink that,” Justus warned.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Oh great, the guy’s still looking over here,” Dale spoke up. “Scotty, pretend to take a sip. He’s watching you.”
“I don’t care.” Scotty pushed the drink away.