by J. P. Bowie
“Come on.” Jeff slipped of his barstool. “Let’s go sit on the terrace and enjoy the view. We all need a change of scene, I think—and subject.”
“Right, I’m sorry.” Anthony slid off the stool and followed them outside.
The three were silent for a few minutes as they each contemplated the beauty before them. Peter, for one, never tired of this view and he’d spent countless nights watching as the sun prepared for its final descent below the horizon. Now, it hung heavily in the sky, casting an orange glow across the ocean.
Jeff sighed, his mind conflicted between the serenity he now saw spread before him and the turmoil this afternoon’s investigation had stirred within him. How could so much beauty exist side by side with so much ugliness?
Anthony stood at the verandah’s edge, his eyes searching far beyond the horizon, as if perhaps he might see where his destiny would lead him. He had to get a life, he knew. Once this mess was all cleared up, his mother settled, Emily and Jerry married, he would move on. To where, right now, he did not know but somewhere he could find the kind of life he craved. It was too soon to hope that the chance encounter he’d had with Justin a few days ago could amount to anything more than just that.
Peter glanced at his two companions and cleared his throat. “Well, aren’t we the gloomy trio? I didn’t invite you down here to get even more depressed, Anthony.”
“Oh, I’m okay, really.” Anthony smiled at him, his face turning to gold under the reflection of the sun’s rays.
He looks like a dark angel right now, Peter thought with a slight shiver. An avenging angel. Lord, am I being fanciful or what? Pull yourself together…
“Right,” Jeff said, “What’s for dinner, Chef Brandon? I’ll give you a hand.”
“No need. Sit and enjoy the sunset. I won’t be long in there. It’s just poached salmon and salad. You two stay and talk.”
Anthony sat down opposite Jeff. “Have the police found out any more about Joey’s murder?”
“Not yet. I told them they should talk to his ex boyfriend Bob Thomson. Did you know him?”
“Uh uh, I don’t think so.”
“He was also Joey’s landlord. Owns the building he had his studio in. Bit of a rough type. Short, stocky, very red hair. Ring a bell?”
Anthony hesitated then nodded. “Sounds like a guy that tried to pick me up in Rebels one night. He did say he was a friend of Joey’s, now when I think of it, and he knew my name—or at least, he thought my name was Adam. I don’t remember what he said his name was. Anyway, I didn’t give him the time of day.”
“Why the change of name?” Jeff asked.
Anthony looked embarrassed as he replied, “Oh, it was just a silly game I started playing when I went to the bars in LA. I wanted to be anonymous, not have guys calling me, that kind of thing. So I didn’t carry ID and told them my name was Adam. I was playing a part, really. I thought it gave me an edge, a sort of dominance. An unfortunate trait I’ve inherited from my father. Stupid, now I think of it. I was going to tell Joey my real name eventually, and I probably would have the night I went over there and found him … you know…” He faltered for a moment. “Who would really want to kill Joey, do you think?”
“It probably wasn’t premeditated. He could have started an argument. Joey had a shitty temper. He could say things that would make a person mad—ugly things, sometimes. I know from experience he could get very nasty.”
“I never saw that side of him.”
“He was crazy about you. He told me as much.” Both men fell silent for a moment then Jeff asked, “Did you ever call that Justin guy?”
“Yes, we’ve spoken a few times. I had to keep apologizing for the delay in our getting together, so I let him in on some of what has been happening. He’s been really understanding, and as a matter of fact, we have a date tomorrow night.”
“Great. He lives in LA?”
“Yeah. He works for some publicity company—celebrity stuff, I think. He’s a bit older than me, twenty seven or eight.”
Jeff laughed wryly. “An old dude.”
“Not that much older…”
“Well, good luck. He sounds like a nice guy.”
“Thanks. So, did the police ever talk to Joey’s landlord?”
“No, he’d gone out of town for a few days according to his secretary. I’ll be talking to my buddy, Joe French, tomorrow about it. See if he’s made any headway finding him.”
“Okay you two,” Peter sang out from the dining room. “Dinner’s ready.”
Jeff smiled at Anthony. “Better not keep the chef waiting.”
“Lead me to it—I’m famished.”
§ § § §
Emily and Jerry sat, side by side, on the couch in her mother’s living room. They looked anxiously at each other as they waited for Patricia to come back downstairs. They had reluctantly agreed to stay with her at Anthony’s request; even though Patricia had made it abundantly clear she would rather be on her own.
“If my son feels he has to be with someone other than his mother tonight, I see no reason for you two being under my feet,” she had told them rudely when Emily had explained that Anthony was going out to visit friends.
Emily had gritted her teeth and said nothing. She didn’t want to be here either, looking after the woman who had tried to implicate her in her father’s death. She couldn’t blame Anthony for wanting to get away from this grim atmosphere for one night, but she would have much rather gone off with Gloria and Johnny after the funeral.
Patricia exaggerated her surprise as she entered the living room. “Are you two still here? I told you I don’t need any one here with me. I would prefer to be on my own, if you don’t mind.”
Jerry took Emily’s hand. “Come on,” he muttered. “Let’s go, Emily.”
“Mother,” Emily protested. “Anthony doesn’t want you to be on your own, that’s why we’re here.”
“But I don’t want you here.” Her mother’s spite loaded voice rang through the room. “Why would I? You, who did your best to destroy my happiness with your wanton ways. You and your sister—both sluts.”
“Stop that.” Jerry’s jaw clenched in anger. “You know you don’t believe any of that garbage. Why are you blaming your daughters for your husband’s perversion?”
Patricia eyed him with disdain. “My husband was a pawn in their hands.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mother,” Emily cried. “I’ve had it with your vindictive attitude. For years you turned a blind eye to what was going on. You ignored the abuse Paula and I went through, and now you blame us for it? You stand there, pretending to grieve for a man you detested as much as I did. For a man who threatened to throw you out if you ever went against his wishes. You’ve only got yourself to blame for your unhappiness. No one else.”
“How dare you!” Patricia screamed, stepping forward to strike her daughter.
Jerry grasped her raised hand in his own. “That’s enough,” he snapped. “You will never get another opportunity to hurt Emily. She’s leaving with me—and you can go to hell.”
Patricia gave him a murderous glare as she pulled her hand free of his grasp. “You poor fool. You think she’s a saint, don’t you? Well, you’re in for a big disappointment. She’ll be no good to you in bed.”
Both Emily and Jerry looked at her aghast as she continued to glare balefully at them.
“You are a sorry excuse for a mother,” Jerry said finally. “Come on, Emily.” He led her to the door. “I guess you won’t want an invitation to the wedding,” he added, looking back at Patricia. “If you ever feel like apologizing to Emily, we might let you see your grandchild one day.”
Jerry pulled the door shut on whatever Patricia was saying as they left. He took Emily in his arms and held her tightly. “Don’t let her get to you,” he whispered into her hair. “She’s borderline insane.”
“She’s been doing this for years, Jerry. I think she’s always wanted to say these terrible things, and tonight they just spi
lled out.”
“Well, you’re not going back there. Let’s go over to Gloria’s. We can call Anthony from there. Let him know we left—and why.”
They got in Jerry’s car and drove the short distance over to Gloria’s house where they explained what had happened.
Gloria was furious. “I should call that old cow and let her know what I think of her. I’ve always wanted to anyhow. How could she say these awful things?” She hugged Emily. “You poor darling. Thank God you were there, Jerry. Seems to me, you answered my question of the other night—you are the best.”
Johnny, who had been standing by listening, ushered them into the living room “Let’s not stand out here in the hallway. Come on in and I’ll fix us a drink.”
“And don’t even think of going back to that house,” Gloria said, taking Emily’s arm. “You can stay here until you and Jerry move in together.”
“Thanks, Gloria.” Emily hugged her cousin’s arm to her side.
She called Peter’s number and asked if Anthony was still there. “I’m sorry to interrupt. We had a problem with Mother and I thought he should know.”
“I’ll put him on.”
Emily explained to her brother what had happened,
“Gosh, I’m sorry, Sis. I never dreamed she would be that crazy.”
“It’s not your fault, Anthony. She’s just mad at the whole world right now, I guess. I’m an easy target for her, you know that.”
“Well, I’ll go home now,” he said. “Try to calm her down.”
“Good luck with that. Best to let her sleep on it. By the way, I won’t be coming home again. After tonight, I just couldn’t. I’ll be staying with Gloria and Johnny until Jerry and I find a place.”
“I’m happy for you, Sis. Tell Jerry I said ‘Hi’.”
“Will do. See you soon.”
“Sorry guys, got to go.” He explained to Peter and Jeff what had happened. “But I had a really nice time here. Peter, you’re a great cook. Thanks for the invitation.”
He rose to go and as they walked him to the door, Jeff said, “Don’t let this situation with your mother rule your life, Anthony. She has to come to grips with reality, and you need a life of your own.”
“I know.” Anthony hugged them both. “Hey, I’ll let you know how my date goes tomorrow.”
They watched him run down the steps to his car. “That poor guy.” Peter shook his head as he closed the door. “He’s too young to be faced with all this responsibility. Patricia Hastings really is a piece of work.”
“Yeah, if he’s not careful she could drag him down into a messy situation. She’s trying to create a rift between him and the rest of the family. She doesn’t want him taking sides with Emily and Jerry. Could be nasty.”
“She’s vindictive enough to try, that’s for sure.”
As they cleaned up the dinner things, Jeff said, “Something Anthony said tonight bothered me a bit.”
“Oh yeah? What was that?”
“I asked him if he’d ever met Joey’s ex boyfriend. You know, Joey’s landlord, Bob Thomson. He said no, but when I described him he said someone like that tried to hit on him at Rebels one night. The day I was in Joey’s studio to give Thomson the rent check, he was goading Joey about seeing ‘Adam’ in a bar with another guy; said they were all over each other.”
“You think the other guy was actually Thomson?”
“That’s what I’m thinking. He tried to pick Anthony up so he could throw it in Joey’s face. Then, when it didn’t work, he had to let Joey know Anthony had been in the bar and embellished it with the story of another guy being all over him. What worries me about this is Thomson knows what Anthony looks like.”
“Is that a problem?”
“It could be. If Thomson did kill Joey, he might just want to finish off what he started. Remember, Joey’s killer tried to set Anthony up. If it was Thomson, he obviously blames Anthony for breaking him and Joey up, so he might be out for revenge. He didn’t get him the first time. Didn’t think it through enough, but now he’s had time to work something out.”
Peter frowned. “You think Anthony could be in danger?”
“I could be wrong of course, but I just have a hunch I’m right. I’m going to call Joe French and see what he’s found out about Thomson.” He picked up the kitchen phone and punched in Joe’s cell phone number.
“Joe French.”
“Hey Joe, it’s Jeff. Any word on Bob Thomson yet?”
“We interviewed a couple of friends of his and they confirmed he was really pissed off at Fernandez over their break up. He’s still not back at his house or place of business so we’ve issued an APB on him. That’s it so far. You got anything?”
“No, not really. Just a gut feeling he’s your man.”
“I’ll let you know when we find him.”
“Good, thanks Joe.” He hung up. “The police have issued an APB on Thomson. I think I’ll tell Anthony he shouldn’t go to LA tomorrow ‘til they get this guy—at least for questioning.”
“Sounds like you’re sure it was Thomson.”
“I just like to play it safe where murder is concerned. Remind me to call Anthony tomorrow. Maybe he can persuade his date to come down to Newport.”
“All of this is beginning to feel horribly familiar,” Peter said. “Promise me, if you get anywhere near the danger zone again, you will be very careful.”
“Of course I will, silly goose.” He held Peter close and whispered. “Now, didn’t we have some unfinished business to attend to?”
“Oh, believe me, I haven’t forgotten that.”
Their lips met in a long, languorous kiss. Peter slipped his hands under Jeff’s shirt, sliding them up the sides of Jeff’s warm, smooth torso while Jeff went straight to Peter’s crotch, stroking him through the fabric of his pants. Peter pushed his hips forward into the caress, then shivered as Jeff pulled down the zipper and inserted his hand, massaging Peter’s already hard cock. Jeff eased the hot flesh out of the confinement of Peter’s briefs then bent to lick at the precum oozing from the slit.
He went down on his knees, taking all of Peter’s erection in one long, smooth glide, nuzzling his nose in the blond curls at the base, inhaling his lover’s musky scent.
“Mmm…” His murmured approval vibrated the length of Peter’s cock causing his balls to pull up tight. Jeff cupped the sensitive sac in one hand, gently squeezing, bringing gasps of pleasure from Peter’s throat.
“Oh, babe,” he moaned, “let’s take this upstairs. The kitchen’s no place for what I want from you, right now.”
Jeff chuckled and stood up, lifting Peter off the floor in a bear hug.
“You’re so demanding,” he teased. “C’mon then…” He made for the stairs, carrying Peter in his arms.
“Unhand me, varlet,” Peter protested weakly, his face buried in Jeff’s neck, his legs wound round Jeff’s waist.
“Not ‘til I have my way with you, fair sir. So get ready for some fun’n’games!”
“Always ready—” Peter yelped as Jeff threw him on the bed then fell on top of him, stripping him of his shirt and pants. “Oh, yeah…” He reached up and tore Jeff’s shirt off, baring his beautiful chest, a sight that Peter knew he’d never get tired of. “Bring that down here so I can feast on those nipples I love so much.”
Jeff shuddered as Peter did just that, using his lips, tongue, and teeth to send ripples of excruciating pleasure over Jeff’s skin. He lifted Peter’s legs to gain access to his butt then dove between the cheeks, his tongue swirling around the tight but eager pucker. Peter bucked and writhed under him, his breathing loud and rasping as he fought to control the orgasm Jeff’s skillful rimming was bringing him close to. A murmur of protest changed to a sigh of anticipation when Jeff raised his head and reached for the lube.
The cool gel helped him focus as Jeff’s fingers slid into him, passing over his sweet spot. He wound his legs round Jeff’s slim waist, and raised his hips in invitation, one that Jeff was quick t
o accept. His hard cock pushed past Peter’s resistance, the burn brief, the ecstasy increasing with every downward plunge from Jeff’s powerful body. Their tightly pressed bodies rocked together to a rhythm born of mutual need and longing to fulfill one another.
Peter wrapped his arms around Jeff’s neck and held him locked in a kiss that brought Jeff a sweet delirium. His thrusts quickened, went deeper, his control slipping away as Peter’s silken heat enveloped his rigid shaft and his climax stirred deep in his balls.
Each thrust brought a muffled moan from Peter who clung to him as if his life depended on it, his lips still firmly pressed to Jeff’s, his tongue weaving its own magic inside Jeff’s mouth. He felt the surge of Peter’s hot semen against his torso, then he came in long, gut wrenching spasms, his body shuddering, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into Peter’s hot core.
They lay locked in each other’s arms for long silent minutes, content to relish the satisfying afterglow as their bodies relaxed into one another before sleep took them away.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jeff called McKenna from his office the next day and apprised him of the appointment he was scheduled to have that evening.
“They’ll call me sometime today with a time and place,” he informed the detective. “How do you want to handle this?”
“Well, we want to bust this ring, of course,” McKenna said. “But like you, we’re also looking at it as a possible lead to Hastings’ murderer.”
“If you scare the shit out of them, someone may just talk—if they know anything.”
“Right. Either way, it’ll be good to take these bastards down.”
“I agree,” Jeff said.
“Here’s the deal. When you’re contacted, let us know. We’ll take it from there.”
“Hey, I don’t want to be left out of this.”
“You won’t be, don’t worry.” McKenna laughed wryly. “You’ll be the bait. I hope you’re up for it.”
“I’m up for it. I’ll call you when I hear from them.” Jeff put the phone down, then immediately picked it up again and dialed Anthony’s number.