Dreamspinner Press Year Four Greatest Hits

by Felicia Watson

  Zach put his arm across David’s abdomen. “Yeah,” he said with a contented sigh.

  “Sleep. I’ll wake you up in time for breakfast with your folks, okay?”

  Zach didn’t answer, and when David looked down, he saw that Zach’s eyes were closed, the lashes long and dark against the curve of his cheek. His hand lay on David’s belly like a limp starfish.

  “Guess it’s okay,” David said, and closed his eyes.

  ANNIE SLID the strata out of the oven, breathing in the warm scents of cheese and egg and sausage. “God, that smells good,” Jane said from her perch at the kitchen bar. “I love your strata. I’d eat it every morning if you fixed it.”

  “Yeah, and bitch at me when your scale made rude comments at you,” Annie said, “which is why I only make it for special occasions. Though in my opinion, you could use a few pounds.”

  “When Richard gives up the business and I don’t have to go to any more social events, I’m going to gain those few pounds and then some,” Jane promised, “but I have to look sexy so those female vultures keep their hands off my hot man.”

  “Trophy wife,” Annie accused with a grin.

  “Right,” Jane sighed. “Because every man wants a fifty-five-year-old woman by his side.”

  “This one does,” Richard said from the doorway. “Especially a fifty-five-year-old woman who looks thirty-three. And besides, you’re not fifty-five for another four months.”

  Jane waved her hand dismissively, but Richard caught it and kissed the palm. “It’s totally not fair,” she said, looking down at his dark head, “that a man gets better-looking as he gets older, and a woman just gets… older.”

  “Says the one who’s the youngest of the three of us,” Annie said, and tossed a potholder at Jane.

  Jane laughed and turned to kiss her husband. Annie watched them a moment, a faint smile of amusement on her face; then her smile died and she turned back to her preparations. “The two of you take the coffee stuff into the breakfast room,” she said over her shoulder, “along with that tray of rolls, and I’ll be in with this once it has a chance to set up.”

  They obeyed, Richard snagging a cup of coffee and smacking a kiss on Annie’s cheek on the way past. Annie laughed, but when they were gone, she rested her elbows on the counter and put her head down in her hands. Damn it, she thought. She should be happy for Davey. Yes, it would be a tough road for him if he wanted to drive it with Zach, but she knew that all along it had always been Zach that Davey loved. The months after Zach’s disappearance had certainly brought home that fact; the endless nights of holding Davey while he grieved, listening to him weep late at night until she’d moved her bedroom downstairs to the guest room in self-defense, being patient with his abrupt mood swings, and the suppers gone cold and uneaten as he worked into the nights on the software he swore would have protected Zach.

  She’d watched David get involved with other people, all the time knowing the relationships were doomed to failure, but she’d kept her mouth shut and let him struggle. She’d do the same this time. But God knew it wasn’t going to make her happy.

  “Mom, you okay?” David’s voice came from behind her.

  She whirled. “Oh, honey, you startled me! I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Sorry. You okay?”

  “Oh, yes, of course. Just waiting for the strata to set. Where’s Zach?”

  “Stopped off at his place to change. Sleeping in your clothes makes for the dreaded grunginess, and not the Seattle-and-Nirvana kind, either.”

  “Good,” Annie said absently.

  “Seriously, Mom, are you alright? You seem sort of distracted.”

  “No, not really. Can you give me a hand with the burritos? They just need the cheese added and then they need to be wrapped. I’ve got to cut the strata.”

  “Sure,” David said, and took the cheese out of the refrigerator and set to work. After a few minutes, he said, “Are you angry with me about Zach?”

  “No,” Annie said, “not angry. Worried. But you’re an adult. I have to let you make your own choices.”

  “Are you worried that it’s going to blow up and mess up your relationship with Dick and Jane?”

  His mother shook her head. “No. I hope not. Maybe. No, I don’t think so. Oh God, Davey!” She put down the knife and covered her face with her hands.

  “Shit,” David said, and put his arms around her. “It’ll be okay, mamacita,” he said softly.

  “I’m just afraid, Davey,” Annie said. “We’ve been a family so long, but I know that if it came down to choosing sides, it would be us against them, and I don’t think I could stand it.”

  “If it came down to choosing sides,” David said seriously, “you side with them because it will be me that’s in the wrong. I made a promise to Richard when I was nine that I would always take care of Zach.”

  “You were nine, Davey!”

  “A promise is a promise.”

  “But Zach’s not a puppy or kitten that you can make a promise like that. Zach has to go his own way and find his own destiny. You won’t always be there to protect him.”

  “No, I know. But I won’t be the one to break his heart, either. If someday he wants to move on, that will be his choice. I won’t.”

  “David, I don’t want to hear that! You have to think about your own happiness too!”

  “I know, I know.” David sighed. “I don’t want to sound like a stalker, Mom, but Zach’s what I want. What I’ve always wanted. If he decides later on he doesn’t want me, that’s okay.”

  “But you’ll be so hurt.”

  “Yeah,” David said. “I’ll be hurt. I’ll survive. Just like we did when Dad died. We survive, we Evanses.” He squeezed her tightly.

  “I take it more than just sleeping went on last night, then?” Annie sighed and shook her head. “No, never mind, don’t answer that, it’s none of my business.”

  David grinned. “I’ll tell Sandy and Alison that next time I see them. It certainly was your business back when they were dating. Bet they’ll have something to say about it, gender inequality and all.”

  “Don’t you dare, David Philip Evans. Don’t you dare.”

  David grinned and went back to the burritos.

  “YOU’RE SURE you’re okay?” David asked one last time as they went into the breakfast room.

  “Drop it, Davey,” Annie murmured back.

  Mike Pritzger was already there, talking with Jane and Richard. David set the tray of breakfast burritos on the table, then turned and held out a hand to the young officer. “Morning, Lieutenant,” he said cheerfully. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you yesterday.”

  Mike shook David’s hand. “It’s Mike, and no problem. Hope you had a good time on your date last night.”

  “Oh, it was… interesting,” David said.

  Zach burst into the room through the French doors. “Shit! I’m late,” he gasped. “Sorry!”

  “Don’t be silly,” Jane said with a smile. “It’s just breakfast.”

  Sliding into the chair beside his mother, Zach whined, “But it’s Sunday, and it’s strata.”

  “Boy after my own heart,” Richard said.

  Zach grinned at them both, and squeezed his mother’s hand gently.

  The eyes Jane raised to Annie’s were stunned. Annie gave her the faintest of nods; then Jane turned back to her son. “Do you want some juice, honey?”

  “Sure,” he said.

  Annie pressed David’s shoulder. “Sit down, boys,” she said to David and Mike.

  “Can I help with anything else?” David asked.

  “It’s all out and on the table,” Annie replied, and took her own seat to start passing stuff around.

  They were quiet a moment as they passed plates. When everyone was served, Zach squirmed around in his seat to dig in his pocket. “Here,” he said to Mike, and reached across the table to hand him a twenty-dollar bill. “The money I owe you.”

  The others glanced up. “Jus
t a private bet,” Mike said, grinning widely.

  “What about?” David asked curiously.

  “Whether he could beat me in WD,” Zach said. “Well, not me. My first score. Whether his first score could beat my first score. He did.”

  “Zach, a lesson,” David said soberly. “When you’re feeding someone a line of bullshit, less is more. Don’t over-explain.”

  “It’s not…!” Zach protested.

  “Right.” David glanced at Mike, who only rolled his eyes and grinned back at him.

  THE COFFEE shop was fairly busy for a Sunday morning, but Brian was able to find a booth in a quiet corner. For some reason, his contact had insisted on meeting him at the ungodly hour of ten-thirty, and between Brian’s late night and the drive from the Springs to Denver, he hadn’t been to bed yet. It was his own damn fault, of course; he really hadn’t intended on staying out so late, but there had been that hot blond he’d been working on all evening, and when the guy had invited him back to his hotel room… well, it had been all Brian could do to get out of there in enough time to get back to his apartment to shower and change out of his club clothes into something more respectable. He hoped this contact would be worth it. The last few weeks on this new assignment had been frustrating as hell; he knew there was more to be said on the story, but he’d run into continual roadblocks.

  A young guy in jeans and a blue linen sports jacket came into the shop and paused in the doorway a moment before spotting Brian. Pushing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses back up on his nose, he picked his way through the crowd to the table. “Brian McCarthy?”

  “Right. You’re Jeff?”

  “Jeff Putnam,” the guy said, and held out a hand. He was mildly attractive in a nerdy sort of way, but looked nervous.

  “Have a seat,” Brian said, shaking his hand and giving him his best non-threatening smile. He was an old hand at getting nervous sources to talk. “I was just going to get coffee and something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starved. What’ll you have?”

  “Just coffee. Um… Venti Americano, extra milk,” Jeff said, and reached for his wallet. Brian held up a hand as he slid out of the booth.

  “My treat,” he said. “Least I could do, what with you coming out on a Sunday morning and all.”

  While he was in the line, Brian kept a discreet eye on his source. It would be just his luck, and in keeping with the way this assignment was going, for the guy to freak out and run away while he was waiting for the coffee and scones. But Jeff stayed put, only glancing up from the tabletop when Brian returned.

  “They had cranberry scones,” Brian said, “so I thought I’d give ’em a try. Want one?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” Jeff took the coffee and scone. “So what did you want to talk about? I have to tell you, I haven’t seen Zach Tyler since high school—before the kidnapping and stuff.”

  “That’s okay,” Brian assured him. “This is really more of a human interest story, what with the two-year anniversary of his rescue coming up. The problem for me is that I can’t seem to get a hold of him or the family to talk to; there’s so much security with Tyler Technologies that I can’t get to them directly. And the locals don’t seem inclined to talk. I mean, I can understand them being defensive of the family; they’re major employers in the area, and have contracts with the military, who are the other big employers around here. I don’t blame them at all. But you’re a writer; you know how things are when you can’t get information.” He nodded at Jeff encouragingly. Jeff nodded back. Brian smiled inwardly. Bait taken and hook set, he thought.

  “No,” he went on, “what I’m looking for is some background, some insight into what Zach was like as a kid, before all that shit happened to him. You know what I mean. You said that you’d been all through school with Zach?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, we both went to Foothills Academy. It’s a year-round private school, but it takes more than money to get in. Based on test results, the top thirty kids a year from the kindergartners in the area are invited to attend. Tuition’s on a sliding scale based on the parents’ income, so you have kids like Zach, who are not only smart, but richer than God, and you get kids like me, whose mom raised five kids on her own with a waitress job. Zach paid full price; I didn’t pay anything. But we both got the same education, played on the same teams, took the same classes, and hung out together along with two other guys—Frankie Hernandez and Jesse Wilmot. We were pretty good buds. Were on the soccer team the year we won regionals. That was right before Zach disappeared. Put a damper on the awards banquet that year.”

  “So, you were like Zach’s best friend?”

  Honesty warred with ego in the guy’s face a moment. Honesty won out. “No, it was the four of us, mostly, plus some of the other guys on the team. We were pretty tight. Zach’s best friend was probably this older kid, Davey. He was the Tylers’ housekeeper’s kid. He went to Foothills, too, but he was probably two or three years ahead of us. He was kind of the kid’s bodyguard and chauffeur, but he earned his way into the academy. As smart as Zach was, I think Davey was probably smarter. Zach was more of a smartass, though.”

  “Arrogant?” Brian suggested.

  “Oh, no, not that way. He was just—funny. He was always coming up with jokes and stuff. Big on nicknames. For instance, our algebra teacher in third grade was a guy from Norway; had a really heavy accent. Zach called him ‘Fortinbras’ or just ‘Fort’ for short.”

  “‘Fortinbras’?” Brian frowned.

  “Yeah. From Hamlet. The one who comes in at the end after everyone is killed off.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. The guy who just conquered Poland or something. Not Hitler, the other one.” Brian shot him a grin.

  Jeff laughed. “Yeah, that’s right. Anyway, Zach called him Fort and pretty soon everyone was. He called his parents ‘Dick and Jane’ from the old reading books; the principal’s first name was Kirk, so of course Zach called him ‘Captain’. It was just the way Zach was. But he wasn’t mean about it. He was a nice kid. People liked him, and not just because of his money. ” He sipped the coffee and went on. “That’s probably part of the reason you’re coming up against resistance in Wesley. The town might be just a suburb of Colorado Springs now, but it had its start as a silver-mining town back in the 1800s, when it was thirty miles from there, and it still thinks of itself as its own entity. And the Tylers have been a part of the town for generations. Rich Tyler’s old man started Tyler Technologies back when ‘computer’ meant a guy with a slide rule. People remember that, and they’re protective, you know? And when you got a kid like Zach, that everyone likes, and everyone feels sorry for, then they’re even more so. It’s an ‘us against them’ sorta mentality.”

  “Did you have a nickname too?”

  “Yeah.” Jeff grinned. “But I’m not sayin’.”

  “What was his friend Davey’s?” Brian asked carefully.

  Jeff thought a moment. “It was weird… Daffy? No. Taff. That was it. Something about him being Welsh. Most of us called him Davey, but Zach… Zach always called him Taff.”

  “DAD, YOU and Mom don’t mind if I skip therapy today, do you? Since Mike’s here, and all?”

  “No, I don’t mind,” Richard said carefully. “Are you sure you want to do that? Both sessions? That’s two days in a row, since you were out biking with David yesterday.”

  Zach thought a minute, then said, “Yeah… yeah. I think so. I’ll go again tomorrow. I think by this point me taking a weekend break isn’t a big deal. Do you?”

  Richard regarded his son and smiled affectionately at him. “No, I think you’re doing okay, Zach. I know your mother and I are pleased with the way you’ve opened up the last couple of weeks. You seem like you’re feeling a lot better.”

  “I guess so,” Zach said. He leaned back on the couch next to his father and picked at a thread on his jeans. “I’m getting there, I guess.”

  “Still having the nightmares?”

  “Yeah,” Zach admitted. “Not as bad as they were. I
mean, I can usually get back to sleep after a while, and I usually only have one or two bad ones a night. And I didn’t have one at all last night, that I remember. So I’m getting more sleep. I’m not needing to take a nap in the afternoons like a baby anymore.”

  “Well, your mother would say you’re still her baby, but for my part, I’m glad.” Richard tentatively put his arm around Zach’s shoulder. To his surprise, Zach didn’t pull away as he usually did, but settled in the crook of his arm.

  “I know it’s been hard on you guys,” Zach said. “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to live with. I know there’s a lot of stuff I can’t talk about yet and might never be able to. But I do love you guys, you know.”

  “I know.” Richard squeezed gently.

  “It’s just that sometimes I don’t know what you expect, and I don’t know what I expect, and it’s kind of scary.” Zach was quiet a moment, then said, “I had a panic attack at Taff’s this morning.”

  “Is that how you hurt your nose?”

  Zach reached up and felt his nose with his fingers. “Is it that obvious?”

  “It’s a bit red and swollen.” Richard grinned. “I’m thinking of calling you Rudolph.”

  “Funny,” Zach nudged him with his elbow.

  “So what happened? You bump into a wall or something?”

  Zach hesitated, then said, “Um, no. Actually… Taff punched me.”

  Richard froze. “He did what?”

  “It’s not his fault, Dad. I was being a real dick to him. I… well, never mind how it all happened, just trust me. I deserved it and then some. I’m just lucky he wasn’t really putting any power behind it.”

  “Do you want me to talk to him?”

  “No! Jesus, no. It was totally my fault. And he felt bad afterwards.”

  “David never hit you before,” Richard said. “I mean, even when you were kids.”

  “No. But there were plenty of times I deserved it.” Zach grinned at his father.

  Richard grinned back. “God, it’s good to have you back,” he said, and kissed Zach’s forehead.