by J. P. Bowie
“Norman,” he said quietly. “Come on, I told you about Eric and how much he meant to me. What is it you’re trying to do here? What’s wrong?”
Norman looked at him, his eyes filling with tears. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Nick. I’m having a nervous breakdown, and you’re the only one who can help me. I need you Nick. Need you. Do you understand me? I’m going out of my mind with love for you. I want you to fuck me—to hold me in your arms and tell me you love me. Every night, I lie awake imagining you’re making love to me, holding me in those strong arms of yours, telling me how much you love me and want me. It doesn’t matter that you’re involved with someone else—just…oh, Christ…” His face twisted in anguish as he saw Nick’s shocked expression. “Why am I doing this? Why am I trying to ruin your life, along with my own?”
“Jeez, Norman.” Nick pulled the distraught man into his arms. “I had no idea. I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you’re sorry.” Norman laid his head on Nick’s shoulder. “But, you’re sorry for me. Sorry that I’m such a loser.”
“No, Doc…it’s not that. I wish I could be more for you, truly I do. You’re a great guy—you deserve the best.”
“I don’t want the best—I want you.”
There was a momentary pause as both men digested what Norman had just said, and then Nick let out a low chuckle. “Oh, okay,” he said. “Second-best, then?”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Norman stepped back from Nick’s embrace. “Shit! I can’t even get that right. I’m such a fuck-up.”
Nick held up his hand to quiet him. “Norman, calm down. Before this goes any further, let me say this… I can never forget what you did for me when I was an emotional mess, trying to pretend there was nothing wrong. I don’t think I ever really told you what your help meant to me then. I will always consider you a true friend. I wish I could be what you want. It’s just that—”
“It’s just that you’re in love with Eric,” Norman sighed, turning away.
“Doc, I don’t want this to sound nuts, you being a psychologist and all, but d’you think you should see someone about this? I mean someone who could help you, the way you’ve helped others.”
Norman’s laugh was bitter. “Yeah. A great psychologist I turned out to be.” He walked back to the window and looked out over the ocean. “I spent the last ten years being a sounding board for other people’s problems, and now look at me. I’ve turned into my worst patient. A whining, self-pitying pain in the ass.”
“You’re being way too hard on yourself, Doc.”
“Am I? I don’t think so.” He turned to face Nick. “You should be telling me to get a life, or get lost. I mean, what right have I to sashay into your life and lay this crap on you, after all you’ve been through these last few weeks.” His shoulders sagged with dejection. “I don’t know what the hell is happening to me. I guess seeing you again after all these years made me realize I’d never gotten over you. Crazy, huh?” Nick looked at him, not knowing what to say and Norman smiled as he continued. “I’m sorry, Nick. I’ve put you on the spot, and now all you want to do is get the hell out of here.”
“No, that’s not true.”
“Yeah, it is. It’s always just slightly embarrassing to see someone have a meltdown in front of you. I apologize.” He looked down at his robe. “Look at me, all dressed down to seduce the hot detective. Christ, what an idiot I am.”
“Stop it, Norman,” Nick said. “You’re not an idiot, and I’m not embarrassed. You’re my friend, and I came to have lunch with you, remember?” He smiled gently. “So where is it?”
Norman straightened his back, and seemed to make an effort to pull himself together. He looked a little shaken, but then he said, “Let me just put some clothes on, and I’ll be right back.”
Nick watched him hurry down the hallway towards the master bedroom then he strolled out onto the balcony and gazed at the view before him. What other little surprises did life have in store, he wondered, watching a sailboat skim across the waves, its white sails etched against the azure sky.
The last week or so he had begun to think that life was getting back to normal. True, Garcia was still out there somewhere, but the cops or the FBI were bound to get him eventually. The good thing was that it looked like he had disappeared from California and was most likely trying to find his way back to Puerto Rico. If he stayed there and never bothered him or Eric again, that would be just dandy. And now Norman. Jeez, but this was an unexpected development, he thought. He would never have believed that the doctor would have tried to put the make on him so aggressively. And that outburst was so unlike him. Somehow, he felt that this was more than just a case of unrequited love on Norman’s part. If he felt he was having some kind of breakdown, is was only natural that he should reach out for someone he believed could help him. For some reason, he had decided that person was the detective he’d fallen in love with years ago, and in his own words, had never gotten over. Nick knew he should feel flattered, but instead he felt a deep sadness.
He turned at the sound of sandals slapping on the tile floor.
“Sorry.” Norman was standing behind him. “Did I interrupt your reverie?” He was sporting a gleaming white tee shirt, a pair of pressed blue jeans, and held a glass of wine in each hand.
“It’s a tad early for me,” Nick protested, taking the glass all the same.
“Just a little toast,” Norman said, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “I propose a new understanding between us. I won’t try to get in your pants again, if you’ll stop looking so damnably attractive.”
Nick laughed. “Somehow I think I have the easy part there. No, wait a minute, that’s not what I meant.”
Norman joined him in the laughter. They clinked glasses and after they had sipped their wine, Norman said, “I’d like to meet Eric one of these days.”
“Uh, yeah…sure.” Nick wasn’t at all sure, but he was not about to upset Norman again. “We’ll get together for dinner one night.”
“I’ll look forward to that. Okay, let’s eat.” Norman led him into the kitchen and started pulling packages from the refrigerator. As Nick watched him prepare their lunch, he could not help but wonder just where all this was going to lead them. Perhaps, he thought, Norman was just that much of a professional that eventually, he would be able to work all this out for himself. In the meantime, Nick could only hope he was right about that.
§ § § §
Eric looked across the dinner table at Nick and smiled. “So when are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”
Nick started, slopping a little of his wine onto the glass tabletop. “Shit,” he muttered, wiping at it with his napkin. “What d’you mean, what’s on my mind?”
“Something’s on your mind,” Eric chuckled. “I don’t need to hire a private detective to find out, do I?”
Nick took a long swig of his wine. “I guess I’m going to have to tell you all this sooner or later.”
“Sounds serious.”
“Not really. Well, it could be, I suppose, if I let it…uh…be…serious, that is—”
“Nick.” Eric gaped at him. “Am I going to hear about this while I’m still a relatively young man, or will I be beating you on the head with my walking stick when I’m old and gray and still trying to get it out of you?”
Nick gave him a sheepish look. “Well, there’s another guy.”
“What?” Eric stared at him in shock, his wine glass almost slipping from his fingers.
“No, no…wait—it’s not what you think.” Nick looked around the room as if for inspiration. “It’s just that I have never mentioned this guy to you before, and he’s suddenly shown up here in Laguna.”
“But you told me there hadn’t been anyone in your life after Martin.” Eric’s eyes were locked on Nick’s as he spoke. “You said that I was the first. Was that a lie, Nick?”
“No, it was not.” Nick’s tone was firm as he returned Eric’s searching look and reached for his hand.
“I have never lied to you.” He squeezed Eric’s hand and held it as he continued. “Norman was my shrink in Pittsburgh after my buddies were shot in the raid that took Garcia down. It was the kind of routine counseling the department insists on whenever there’s been some kind of traumatic incident.”
Eric nodded his understanding. He knew it was standard practice for most city employees to have counseling available to them, and in some instances, like the one Nick had just told him of, it could be mandatory.
“Norman…uh…Dr. Phelps was assigned my case,” Nick continued. “He was really helpful and I found myself opening up to him a little more on each session. What I didn’t realize, was that he was falling in love with me.”
“Oh man,” Eric muttered.
“Right. He told me as much just before I left for New York, but it was when I went back for Andy’s funeral that he came on strong, and sounded just a tad pissed when I told him about you.” Nick’s smile was rueful. “I thought we had talked it out, but now he’s here in Laguna, living two doors away from Rod and A, and frankly, Eric, I don’t quite know what to do about it.”
“What does he want you to do about it?”
“Eric, this is a really nice guy I’m talking about here. He’s gentle and kind and a real good friend.”
“But?”
“Right—but.”
“But he’s still in love with you, and you feel awkward and embarrassed, and don’t know what the hell to do about it. Right?”
“Somethin’ like that.” Nick looked away from Eric’s intense stare. “I was hoping, maybe that I could have you meet him. Get together for dinner, or something. He said he’d like to meet you.”
“Scope out the competition, maybe?” Eric said with a light laugh.
“Oh, he knows how I feel about you. I’ve told him, point blank, that you mean everything to me.”
Eric got up from the table and came round to Nick’s side. He sat on Nick’s lap and wrapped his arms around him. Kissing him sweetly on the lips, he whispered, “I didn’t think it was possible to love you any more than I already do, but you just proved me wrong. What you said just now…”
“What did I say?” Nick teased him, then returned his kiss. “It’s true,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “You mean everything to me. I know I’m not one to express my feelings the way you do, Eric. You can be so damned eloquent at times, it makes me feel downright slow-witted. But believe me, I love you, with all my heart and soul.”
Eric smiled into his eyes. “Ditto,” he said.
“Ditto?” Nick’s eyes widened. “Where did all the eloquence go?”
“Sometimes words are unnecessary,” Eric said, with an impish smile. “Sometimes actions speak louder than words, as they say. Right now, I’m all for you being my action-man. The words will come later.”
Nick grinned at him. “Among other things.”
“See, there you go. You can be just as eloquent as the next guy.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jeff and Peter’s return from their vacation brought a degree of normalcy back into Nick’s life. The madness of the past few weeks seemed to evaporate as he and Eric were regaled with their friends’ stories of the fantastic places they had seen, and the people they had met. Tanned, relaxed and happy, they looked, as Eric told them, like they belonged on the cover of a travel magazine. It was not until the following day, when Nick was alone with Jeff in their office, that he told him of the havoc Garcia had wrought since his escape from prison.
“Have they caught him yet?” Jeff was anxious to know.
“Not yet,” Nick told him. “I’ve been talking to McKenna, to the FBI and to my old boss in Pittsburgh, but so far there’s no trace of him.”
“What’s your opinion?”
“I think he probably made it into Mexico and he’s hiding out till he can get a flight to Puerto Rico, or maybe South America somewhere. He’s got contacts all over the place. His problem is going to be that he’s become something of a loose cannon. Killing Mario Torres and his wife won’t sit well with a lot of the people he’s done business with.”
Jeff nodded. “Yeah, that wasn’t too smart.” He gave Nick a long look, his gray eyes filled with concern. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you through all this. From what you’ve told me it had to have been horrendous—especially him getting Eric involved in it. You should have called me…”
“Jeff, there was no way I was going to drag you back here and ruin your vacation.” He grinned at his partner, before adding, “Besides, Peter would have killed me.”
“Not for something that serious. Well, I’m glad you guys came out of it okay.”
“By the way,” Nick said. “Monica has been great through all of this. I made her promise not to spill the beans when you checked in with her. She didn’t like it, I know, but she’s been great. I kinda promised her a raise.”
Jeff lifted an eyebrow. “So give it to her, Nick, with my blessings. That’s real nice of you.”
“Uh, wait. I meant we would give her a raise.”
Jeff chuckled. “I should give her a raise when she was withholding information from me? I don’t think so.”
“For Pete’s sake, Jeff. I asked her not to say anything.”
Jeff frowned, but nodded his understanding. “Still,” he said, “there’s a certain protocol that must be observed.”
“Protocol?” Nick spluttered. “What protocol?”
Monica’s laughter from the outer office interrupted him. “I can hear you guys, you know. Nick, you’re not representing me very well in there.”
“Monica, I’m sorry.” He walked over to her desk. “Jeff’s being…” He fell silent as Jeff joined in the laughter.
“Nick, you’re just too gullible sometimes.” Jeff laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Not only does Monica get a raise, but I’m taking you both out to lunch.”
“Wow, you should go on vacation more often,” Monica teased him.
“I absolutely agree,” Jeff said. “And you, my friend, ” He fixed Nick with a stern look. “That is exactly what you and Eric need. Peter’s giving him some time off, so the two of you should get out of town for a few days. Go relax—forget what’s been happening here.”
“A very good idea,” Monica agreed. “I think that’s the least you could do for poor Eric, after what you put him through.”
“Oh, right. Make me feel even more guilty.” Nick looked aggrieved. “But, you’re right. A few days away sounds great. I could rent a boat out of Dana Point. Eric would love that.”
“There you go.” Jeff opened the office door with a flourish. “Okay, let’s go eat. I’m starved.”
The view from the patio restaurant at the Hotel Laguna was picture postcard perfect as they sat at their table looking out at the azure sea and sky.
“What a beautiful day,” Monica murmured, sipping her iced tea. “We are the lucky ones, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, this place is hard to beat,” Nick agreed.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jeff said with a mock superior air. “I have just returned from some of the most beautiful places in Europe. The mountains, the lakes, the galleries, the restaurants—”
“The expense, the foreign lingos, the crazy food,” Nick interrupted.
“You sir, are a barbarian,” Jeff sniffed.
“True, and worse yet—a barbarian who is craving a big, juicy burger.”
Monica giggled. “I can just see you in a helmet with horns, Nick, brandishing a big old sword.”
“Hmm…” Nick grinned at her. “I wonder if Eric would go for that.” Their laughter was cut short by the shrilling of Nick’s cell phone. “Sorry,” he mumbled, glancing at the ID screen.
Norman.
“Uh, ’scuse me for a minute,” he said, standing up. “I’ll take this inside. Order me the burger, Jeff?” He walked into the almost deserted inside bar and took the call.
“Hi, Norman.”
“Nick, how are you?”
�
��Just fine—what’s up?”
“I just wanted to thank you for introducing me to those neighbors of mine. You know, the two English guys, Rod and A.”
“Oh good, you’ve talked with them?”
“I had dinner with them last night.”
“Wow, that was fast.”
“They were at my door right after you left, inviting me to have tea with them. We talked for so long, it got dark.”
“They are total charmers,” Nick chuckled.