Shattered Glass

by A. C. Katt

  “We should have talked more. But every time I saw you all I wanted to do was throw you down on the nearest flat surface and fuck you till you screamed my name,” Milo whispered.

  Both men began to nod off.

  “Liam, baby, we need to get under the portico or we’ll burn. We can sleep on the chaise inside.”

  The lovers rolled the chaise until it sat just out of the reach of the sun, then, exhausted from the emotional outlay as well as the physical exertion, they fell asleep in each other’s arms for the second time in twenty-four hours after years apart.

  * * * *

  A few hours later, Liam opened his eyes and found Conchita standing at the end of the lounge and staring at their naked bodies. He poked Milo.

  “I knocked. You didn’t answer,” she said.

  “Go away,” Milo groaned. Liam made a grab for his pants, but Milo pulled him back to the chaise.

  “I will stand here until you get up, Mr. Milo. Mr. Sam says it is important that I get you out of bed. You too, little one. Sam says he needs you both downstairs.”

  “Milo,” Liam growled, “we’re exposing our bare asses to your housekeeper. Conchita, I apologize. Would you hand me one of those towels near the pond? Then I’ll go somewhere and dress more appropriately.” Conchita padded off to get him a towel. “Damn it, you said no one had the key to this courtyard, that it was private.”

  “No one has a key but Conchita. She does have to clean it. She said she knocked and we didn’t answer.”

  “Maybe she should have knocked a bit louder,” Liam retorted.

  “Probably, but since I’ve never had a lover in the house, I didn’t think of asking her to knock. I’m sorry it made you uncomfortable, baby. You never used to be so uptight about public displays of affection. As I recall, I was the ass in that department.” Milo smiled at Liam and kissed his nose.

  “Damn you. How can I stay angry when you go and do that to me? I like public displays of affection, but not public displays of my manly attributes or lack thereof,” Liam said with a trace of annoyance.

  “Are you officially out of the closet?”

  “I don’t know what you mean by officially. I don’t date women. I’ve always loved you. End of story.”

  “But you have a solo career now,” Milo persisted. “Have you told anyone that you are gay?”

  Liam shrugged. “No one has asked. I think they all assumed I was. I’m not the manly type. Besides, I don’t usually give interviews unless it’s about the music. The paparazzi buzz around, but I never paid much attention. They never got anything on me because I’m a pretty boring guy.”

  “More like you have made yourself a prisoner in your own home because of a stalker, and because I had shit for brains,” Milo shot back.

  Liam threw his hands up in exasperation. “What does this have to do with Conchita seeing my dick? I’m trying to show your housekeeper some respect here.”

  “Oh, then you don’t object to Conchita knowing you’re gay and that we are lovers?” Milo asked in a mild voice.

  “Milo,” he answered, his patience hanging by a thread, “I never objected to being known as your lover. I would have shouted it from the rooftops if you let me. I was proud that you loved me. Why the fuck are we having this argument?”

  “We aren’t having an argument, only a discussion. I wanted to make sure you still felt that way. Go put your pants on. I need to speak to Sam.”

  Chapter 19

  Yesterday dawned dark and dreary

  I walked alone in the shadows of night

  My heart felt tired and weary

  Needing someone to hold me tight

  I died there in the light

  Dying in the light

  I’m alive in your arms tonight

  I’m all aglow in your love so bright

  I’m finally doing something right

  I’m alive in your arms tonight

  Not Dying in the Light

  —Milo Stamis, “Dying in the Light”

  * * * *

  Milo popped into Liam’s room and caught him coming out of the shower. “Baby, put on some clothes, there’s a friend of mine downstairs I’d like you to meet.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Esteban, the priest I told you about. He knows about us, and he’s an important person in my life. I’d like you to meet him before we talk to Sam. That is, if you don’t mind.”

  “I hate to sound like a cliché, but any friend of yours—”

  “Thank you, baby. We’ll be in the studio. I need to get out of here. Looking at you with just a towel wrapped around your middle is too tempting.”

  * * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Liam came up to the studio, having showered, shaved, and changed into a clean T-shirt and pants, but still barefoot.

  “You really didn’t bring any good clothing, did you?” Milo asked. He looked down at Liam’s feet. “Do you own shoes?”

  “What kind of clothing do I need? You always wanted me naked before, and when I did dress you didn’t care what I wore unless I was supposed to be on stage and in costume,” Liam teased. “And yes, I own shoes. I just don’t like to wear them.”

  Liam turned and saw the back of an older man’s head. He blushed.

  “I like seeing you blush, baby. However, you don’t need to be embarrassed by Esteban.”

  The gentleman in the chair stood up and turned to face Liam.

  Liam’s face turned white with shock. “Father Steve, you’re Milo’s Esteban?”

  The older man walked over to Liam, took both of his hands, and kissed him on both cheeks.

  “You know Esteban?” Milo asked.

  “Yes,” the priest answered, “although I’m surprised that Liam remembers me. The last time I saw him he was only five.”

  “Father Steve used to come to my house with Mr. Cheever to visit Dad,” Liam sputtered.

  “Walt Cheever acted as the lawyer for the Princeton parish where I worked as an assistant pastor. We became friends and he introduced me to Frank. It shocked me when Frank was murdered.”

  “Murdered? Someone murdered my father?”

  “Lily never told you?”

  “Mom told me she moved us to Hazlet to get away from her memories of Dad.”

  “Your mother moved away for many reasons. She feared the suspect, Bart Henderson. When Walter died, I suspected Bart’s hand in the supposed mugging, but the Trenton police could never prove anything, just as the Princeton police didn’t have enough evidence to nail the bastard when your father died. He ran him off the road.”

  Liam collapsed into the blue leather chaise. “Who the hell is Bart Henderson? Why didn’t Mom tell me any of this?”

  “I suspect she didn’t want to frighten you. You were so young, and after she died, it was too late. I spoke to Walt the night before he died. He planned on going to Carnegie Hall for the Shattered Glass concert on your eighteenth birthday. He never made it. The police found a ticket in his pocket.”

  “Bart Henderson? Jesus, Milo, I hope this is a coincidence.”

  “Esteban,” Milo said, “you never told me you knew Liam.”

  “I didn’t say anything because of church policy. I counseled Lily, so the information became privileged. I also needed to make sure you meant him no harm. When Paco came to church today and told me Liam arrived here and the danger you faced, I felt I must come visit and tell you what little I knew. I hope I haven’t lost your trust, Milo.”

  “No, Esteban, protecting Liam has always been my first priority. I wish I’d known this years ago.”

  “Walter told me he planned to tell you about Bart on the night of the concert. Lily didn’t want Liam to know, but after her death when Liam attained his majority, Walt felt he discharged his obligation to Lily and thought he should let you decide what to tell him.”

  Liam interrupted. “Father Steve, please. I’m confused. Who is Bart Henderson, and why would he want to hurt my dad?”

  “Bart was the son of your father
’s former girlfriend. Frank ended the relationship and soon after met Lily. Bart kept calling Frank, claiming that Frank was his natural father. Although Frank felt sorry for Bart, they had no biological relationship. Frank finally reluctantly reported Bart for stalking. I believe Bart did some time in Jamesburg, the New Jersey juvenile facility. They released Bart a few months before your father’s murder. When Paco told me that a man by the name of Bart stalked Liam, I hurried over here to see if a possible connection existed and to offer my testimony to the police if it did. Do you have a picture of Bart Hedge?”

  Milo, who paced the floor, went to a drawer and pulled out a publicity shot of the band. He pointed at Bart Hedge and asked in a strained voice, “Is this the same man?”

  Esteban looked at the photo with care. “Yes, my friend, I believe it is.”

  “Shit.”

  “Father Steve,” Liam asked, “how did you wind up in New Mexico?”

  “Let’s just say that my views on certain issues diverge from the Vatican’s. Milo and I have discussed this. I’ve spent twenty years in this small parish, trying to make things better for my Latino and Native American congregation. I believe the Church thought I would be able to do some good here, and yet be without an audience where I could potentially cause the diocese embarrassment.”

  “Esteban, I think you need to speak to J.B., our security consultant. Would you mind going downstairs to the kitchen and asking Conchita to introduce you? I need to speak with Liam.”

  “Of course. I’m here to provide whatever help you need. I loved Liam as a child, and you have become a close friend over the last months, as well as the parish’s chief benefactor.”

  The priest went over to Liam’s chair and kissed him on the forehead. “Bless you, son. You have a wonderful man. You two need to communicate better. If you need couples counseling, I would be happy to help.”

  “Thank you, Father Steve,” Liam said, almost on autopilot.

  When Esteban left the room, Milo sat at the end of the chaise and took the now weeping Liam into his arms.

  “Why would Mom hide something that vital from me? Or from you, for that matter? She knowingly put you in danger.”

  “No, Liam. I believe Lily thought both of you were safe after she disappeared from Princeton. I always thought it strange that none of her friends from your old life ever visited. However, I put it down to Lily’s desire to get over the hurdle of her grief. She hid you well. But, you’re right, she should have told us. It would have been better to be forewarned.” He sighed. “I didn’t expect this when I arranged the gig with Sam this afternoon.”

  “What gig?”

  “Let’s go down to the courtyard and meet with Sam. I was going to ask you about this before Esteban’s visit, but you may not want to do this now. Could you put on some shoes just in case?”

  Liam and Milo walked down the stairs in silence, each of them lost in thought.

  * * * *

  Downstairs…

  “Before our conversation with Esteban, I arranged a gig for us,” Milo quickly said.

  “A gig? I haven’t played with you and the guys for years. I thought you said it would be different. We should talk about these things. Wait, Sam said a few tour dates, but I’m not ready to perform with you guys yet. We just started working out our problems. You should have asked.”

  “Baby, this isn’t something you have to do. This is something I’m going to do, and I’m sort of inviting you along. I’d like to have you there with me,” Milo said in a soft voice, “when I crawl out of the closet.”

  “What are you talking about?” Liam, looking a bit befuddled, sat on the lounge on which they’d made love only a few hours before.

  “I have an interview scheduled by satellite from the Albuquerque television station that carries the Ellen DeGeneres Show. I plan on outing myself on national television. If you come with me, Bart will have nothing to hold over us ever again.”

  “What about Sam and Rick? They also have reputations to consider.”

  “Sam made the arrangements. He thinks Rick will be free to break away from Bart if we have no more secrets to hide. Besides, both of them are straight.”

  “The press will ask tough questions,” Liam said. “I know Ellen’s sympathetic, but you had custody of me for years. Bart always threatened me with going to the press and telling outrageous lies. How do we prove it isn’t true?”

  “We know the truth, I don’t care what anyone else thinks anymore. We had enough witnesses, the roadies and groups who traveled with us, they all knew I refused to go near you that way. After all, one of your favorite games was to throw yourself at me and wait for my reaction.” Milo grinned.

  “I should have known better.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question. I have to do two things. The first is for me—actually, for us—and that is to be honest with myself and everyone around me about who and what I am.

  “The second thing I need to do is for Rick. Rick did many things wrong, but some of those things he did because he tried to protect the band. Sam and I talked about this and we realized that we marginalized Rick. It became obvious to Rick, even before you joined the band, that you held first priority in my life. Then, suddenly, you became a priority in Sam’s life, too. We think Rick felt like you took his place. But he adapted. He became your friend. Until Bart came along and—”

  Liam interrupted. “Bart was poison. What’s more, he came to us with a personal grudge and a plan to destroy me, us. He succeeded in destroying the band. Hell, he succeeded in destroying us. And after what we heard from Father Steve, I know it’s him stalking me.”

  “Is this an exclusive party, or can anyone join?” Milo turned to see J.B. entering the courtyard.

  “If it was a private party, it isn’t anymore,” Milo answered. “Come on in. I suppose Sam is right behind you?”

  “Yeah, he’s getting anxious for an answer for the network people,” J.B. said. After a pause, he continued. “I have a few things both of you should know before you agree to speak on television. I don’t want you to be blindsided.”

  “What are you talking about?” Liam and Milo asked, almost in unison.

  “Bart Hedge. My operative back east did a lot of digging. Truthfully, Mr. Hedge didn’t try very hard to cover his tracks. Like many sociopaths, he left a trail on purpose because it amused him. Our Mr. Hedge is quite the mystery man, and a potentially explosive problem. Bart Hedge is Bart Henderson.”

  “Father Sanchez just told us,” Liam said.

  J.B. held up his hand in such a Lily-type gesture that Liam backed off to let him continue.

  “Bart was born in 1964, not 1974. He’s also the only suspect in your father’s murder, Liam.”

  “Esteban said he was pushed off the road over an embankment. Do you know any more about what happened?”

  “Frank O’Shea drove a Honda Civic, the perp, a Mercedes 500SEL SUV. The Mercedes weighed over four thousand pounds. Frank never had a chance. The SUV headed straight for the driver’s side of the vehicle and pushed Frank over an embankment. The perp swiped the Mercedes from a dealership lot in Northern New Jersey. According to the police report, they found it dumped on a side street in Newark two days after the accident. The police found no prints inside the vehicle. Only paint from the Honda proved it to be the murder vehicle. Since it was stolen, it couldn’t be traced back to an owner. The local police didn’t have anything to go on. They suspected Bart Henderson, but never gathered enough evidence to present to a grand jury. The story made headlines in the Trenton area.”

  “I don’t understand.” Liam looked confused. “Why would Bart kill my dad and want to hurt me or my mother? I already know his mom had a relationship with my father, but why would that inspire murder?”

  “Frank O’Shea had a life before he met your mother, Liam. Frank had fifteen years on Lily, and his entanglement with Bart’s mother went on for seven years. They even lived together for a while. Susan Henderson led a promiscuous lifestyle. Never
even knew for sure the name of Bart’s father, but from information my guy got from the neighbors, she always told Bart he belonged to Frank.”

  Liam’s mouth dropped open as his shoulders slumped. J.B. said, “Liam, you aren’t related. If I didn’t have a blood test that proved that, the neighbors would testify to that truth. Chrissy didn’t stop screwing around when Frank moved in, and he didn’t like it. Frank left, not knowing how attached her then adolescent son became to him, or why.”

  “So Bart was my father’s ex-girlfriend’s son.” Liam shook his head. “It’s quite a stretch to say that a kid would commit murder because of someone with whom his mother had a relationship, and from what you said, Frank was only one of many. What would that have to do with Mom and me?”

  “Your father dated Bart’s mother on and off for seven years,” Milo observed. “That’s more than enough time for Bart to become attached to Frank and jealous over the attention someone new would receive. Do you remember how fast we became friends? Maybe Bart felt that way about your dad.” Milo pulled Liam a little closer in his arms, as if sensing Liam needed the security of the familiar at that moment.

  “Even if he didn’t,” J.B. continued, “Chrissy encouraged him. She wanted a firm hold on Frank O’Shea and Frank’s money. She knew Frank longed for a son. She put Bart in the position to be the son Frank needed, or so the neighbors said.”

  “So maybe,” Milo supposed, “Chrissy forced Bart to attach to Frank as a father figure. It’s not like the kid had another alternative. Am I right, J.B.?”

  J.B. held up his hand. “Anyone in their right mind would assume under these circumstances that Bart meant Liam harm. However, the court system doesn’t assume. The additional testimony that Father Sanchez can provide will be helpful, but all of the evidence we have so far is circumstantial. The courts will only deal in facts. We have some facts, but none of them, except the kittens, indicated that Liam is in physical danger, especially since he neglected to report the earlier incidents.” J.B. threw Liam an arched look.

  Liam stared him down and said to Milo, “You said something before the hordes descended. What did you want to do for Rick?”