by Andrea Speed, A. B. Gayle, Jessie Blackwood, J. J Levesque, Katisha Moreish
The door opened almost without a sound. Lyle picked up the stacked boxes he’d set at his feet whilst struggling to locate the key and shoved the door with his shoulder. He quickly kicked the door shut behind himself and then walked in the direction of the kitchen. He desperately needed a cup of tea and to stretch his legs following his long drive to Haven Falls. First though he needed to make a call.
Dumping the boxes in the kitchen, he pulled out his phone, then paused and swore. He hadn’t locked the door behind him. The call could wait. If the past eight years had taught him nothing else, it was not to take chances, especially when he was as tired as now.
Lyle went back and secured the front door, then made a visual sweep of the rest of the property. It all seemed fine, but he couldn’t be sure until he checked the surveillance cameras. He made his way to the panic room and picked up the phone in there. He hit the speed dial whilst starting to access the last week’s recordings.
“Hello, Agent Nicole Tyler here.”
“Nicole, it’s Lyle. I’m in. Just sending you the recordings for the last week”
“Okay, Lyle, I’ll get the checks done and get back to you. Get some rest, you sound tired”.
Lyle confirmed, before he hung up, that the house was as expected. The furniture was in and arranged pretty much how he wanted it, and the utilities were all hooked up. Subjected to her less-than-enthusiastic replies, he was glad to eventually be able to put the phone down. Agent Tyler was a grumpy bitch at the best of times and not easy to deal with. She had always been civil, just, but they weren’t friends.
He decided to put the aforementioned utilities to good use. He filled the kettle and set it to boil, then unpacked the box he had labelled ‘kitchen starter’. He stowed the ‘emergency’ supplies from the box as he went along. He wanted a shower, so when the tea was made he carried it through with him, drinking it as he went along. He undressed in the master bedroom, hunted out a couple of towels and his toiletries and then headed for the ensuite wet room. A tune was stuck in his head, though he couldn’t identify it. He hummed it whilst showering, glad to be safe inside his new home at last.
Lyle was excited about being in Haven Falls again and hadn’t wanted his mood flattened. Speaking to Agent Tyler had a nasty habit of doing just that. Refreshed by his ablutions, he lay on the bed awhile and ran through his list of places to check out in his head, distracting himself from the echo of Tyler’s voice. He needed groceries, obviously. He’d heard that there was a herbalist in town now, so that was something new to discover. He’d have to call in at his new workplace too, either this afternoon or early tomorrow, even if he wasn’t meant to start there for a couple of days; best to try and get on the good side of the boss by showing willing. He’d need to locate the local hospital and sheriff’s office, for future reference, and a map of the town and its environs would be helpful too. The phone ringing interrupted his reverie. It was Agent Tyler calling back to confirm that there was nothing suspicious on the recordings. Time then to secure the house and go exploring.
Haven Falls #32: The Long Arm of the Law
Carter ‘Gil’ Gillespie and Lance Peabody
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After the doc had departed, Gil finished his breakfast at leisure, enjoying the time to himself. He drained his coffee and thought about Miles Sutherland. The man seemed quite personable, if a little prickly, although Gil thought that might be a defense mechanism. He was a dedicated doctor, buried himself in his work too much, and didn’t have the energy for much extraneous activity afterward. So what was he running from? Himself?
Gil recalled a friend of his back home who had lost his partner. The man had buried himself in work, not bothered to take much care of himself any more, and had become withdrawn and irritable. It had taken the best part of a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and half the night for Gil to get him to open up sufficiently to break the barriers he had set around his heart and to admit he needed to forgive himself.
Gil very much doubted he could get Miles to open up in the same way although Doc Sutherland was acting very much like Philip had: not bothering to take much care about the way he looked, wearing his outward appearance like a defensive shield. For whatever reason, Gil found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, the doc was starting to get over it, whatever it might be. He was trying to lose weight, even though the muffin might not have been the best way to do it. Ah well, one step at a time.
Gil finished up and left, calling a goodbye and thank you to Glenda, wondering exactly what she would be broadcasting to the locals about him. Doubtless he would hear it from someone next week. On the way out of the coffee shop Gil passed two more good looking guys sitting together and murmured some pleasantry as he passed, seeing the dog beneath the table give him a cursory glance as he went by. He decided it was better to go home and collect his bike and bite the bullet about this right hand drive thing. He would master it. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to drive the ambulance. Mike was doing all of that at the moment and Gil was feeling a little guilty about it. He might ask around and see if there were any instructors who did refresher courses in drivers’ ed. He decided to call into the sheriff’s office later – when he found out where it was - and check.
He went up to his apartment to change. Despite the heat, he slipped into his leathers and boots, grabbed his helmet and biking jacket and took the lift -- no, the elevator, he reminded himself -- to the basement car park to collect his pride and joy. He was glad there was secure parking attached to the apartment block or he’d never have had the bike shipped over. It purred into life and he just sat and listened to the sound for a moment, revelling in it. Then he pulled his helmet on, guided the bike out of the basement into the sunshine and turned a careful right to take him into the town and up to where he had heard there was a horse ranch in the hills.
The problem was the big junction and all those bloody traffic lights strung overhead. He was in the right-hand lane to turn right, having taken a wrong turn back there somewhere. He knew where he was now, at least. He had a fairly good memory for directions, he needed one for his job, but a new place always took him time to get used to. The light was on red, he was waiting patiently for it to change, when he saw the red and blue flashing lights in his mirror and a police car rolled up and stopped behind him. What the hell had he done?
Lance stepped out of the car, admiring the obviously well-loved Honda DN-1, as well as the broad shoulders of the rider in sexy black leather. Too bad the jacket hid any clear glimpses of the assets on the seat, Lance thought as he snorted at himself. He strolled toward the man, who had turned around to see what was happening. The helmet came off as Lance reached the biker’s side and he recognized the guy immediately. “Yum,” was Lance’s immediate impression.
“Oh, you’re the new paramedic! Hi, I’m Lance Peabody, the sheriff in these here parts.” He grinned as he reached his hand out to offer a shake. “I saw you at the accident scene but didn’t get a chance to introduce myself. Too busy trying to deal with the assholes. Welcome to Haven Falls.”
“Hi, Lance. Thanks. Nice to meet you. I’m Carter Gillespie by the way, but you can call me Gil. I saw you too but I was a little tied up.” Gil admired the tall athletic physique and blond hair. The hair was braided down his back, doubled up to keep it neat and out of the way. A brief vision of being surrounded in blond hair flitted through Gil’s brain and he shivered, despite the heat. Nope, he had to keep reminding himself that he was not looking for a relationship, not after...the last time. Still, the little voice in his head persisted, you’re not above playing around with such a hunk to pass the time.
“I can see you’re not from around here. That a British accent I detect?”
Gil nodded, smiling a little, while he surreptitiously glanced up and down Lance’s tall figure. Looking somewhat imposing in his tan uniform, The sheriff was taller than he was and boy, did this guy fit his uniform well. He knew that Lance had done the same thing to him as he
walked over here. He had seen the admiring look in his wing mirror as the Sheriff approached.
“That might explain a few things. First of all, I pulled you over because I thought your registration sticker might not be correct - I saw the foreign plates - but I realize now that it’s just the new one. Sorry about that.”
“No problem, Sheriff. It was organized by the people who dealt with the job exchange.”
“Call me Lance. We’ll be running into each other a lot, I expect, seeing as we’re in similar jobs.” Lance pointed to the light above them, which was green by now. “Since you’re planning to turn right and there’s no traffic coming your way, you can go ahead and turn after stopping at a red light. If people honk at you while you’re waiting for the light, that’s why. I just turned on my lights rather than honk since I was questioning your plates anyway.”
“Oh, Okay. I guess I should probably bone up on the local driving regulations so I can drive the ambulance too. I was actually planning to find out where your office was and get some info on that. I’m still getting used to driving on the wrong side of the road and that’s enough to occupy my mind these days!”
Lance raised one of his eyebrows in amusement. “Oh, it’s all online. Check out the state’s website and look for the Motor Vehicle Registrations office, and you can either order a book or just download the text. It might be easier to get a lesson or two and practice driving on the right side of the road,” he said, smirking. “The Haven Falls Driving School can teach you the local laws. You’ll find them in the Yellow Pages. Tell Reggie I gave you his name.”
Gil nodded. “Great, thanks. That’s easy enough.”
“Nice bike, by the way! You had it long?”
“My pride and joy. We’ve been together two years. It’s a match made in Heaven.” Gil smiled, smoothing a gloved hand along the dashboard, lightly patting the side. “Had him shipped over from the UK, couldn’t be without him for a whole year.” At Lance’s questioning look he added, “That’s how long the exchange program lasts. I’m here on secondment to see how you guys do things. You never know though, if I like it I might stay a while longer. It’s beautiful out here.”
Well, that could certainly put a crimp in a relationship, Lance thought. “Only a year, huh? We’ll have to see what we can do to keep you around longer then!” He winked at the delicious man. “I’ve only been here about six months and I love it. I think I fell in love with the scenery first.” Lance glanced at his watch. “Damn, I’ve got to get back to the office. Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around, huh? Next time, I’ll recognize those sexy leathers. I’m glad to see that you dress safely even though it’s hot as blazes today. I’m sure you’ve seen some nasty accidents where the riders haven’t been so lucky; I know I have.”
“After seeing the results of RTIs where guys have come off their bikes who weren’t wearing leathers, I NEVER go out on the bike without the full kit on, rain or shine. Or without a helmet either. I’d rather keep my skin if the worst were to happen, thank you very much!”
“And it looks like great skin, too...what’s an RTI?” Lance decided Gil was sexy as sin as well as smart; he decided that maybe he wasn’t in such a great hurry to get back after all. His staff could wait a few more minutes before the meeting. After all, he was the boss.
“Oh, Brit-speak, sorry.” Gil grinned. Great skin, huh? This guy was a flirt and make no mistake about it. Well, two could play at that game. “Road Traffic Incident.” he explained, seeing the Sheriff’s comprehension dawn in the hazel eyes. On closer inspection those eyes were interesting, Gil thought, more blue in the center. “Looks like you have partial heterochromia.” Gil watched as the sheriff blinked in surprise.
“Hope it’s not catching?” Lance looked askance at Gil.
Gil huffed a laugh. “Not at all. Couldn’t help noticing you have gorgeous eyes; two different colors in one iris,” he explained, seeing the question forming in Lance’s expression. He smiled again. ”Nothing to worry about but it’s quite rare, makes you look...interesting, actually.“ Ball’s in your court, Sheriff Peabody, he thought, then smirked as it crossed his mind that he couldn’t conceive of saying the same thing to a British copper. Gil neatly changed the subject. “You might know, what do folks do for entertainment round here? I’ve been told about Renegade Steele, everybody seems to be looking forward to the grand opening. Are you going, maybe? Heard you were a great dancer...”
Lance rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t know who the hell you’ve been talking to. I’m not too bad, I guess, but I’m no Tadashi. I’d love to buy you a drink or three and try out the dance floor. How about we meet up sometime?” He scribbled a phone number on his notepad and ripped the page out, offering it to Gil who tucked it into his jacket pocket. “Phone me,” he said and ambled back to the car.
“Will do, I’ll see you soon, unless someone else decides they need a bit of pain and trouble.” Gil wiped the sweat from his forehead, slipped his helmet back on, and nodded once to the Sheriff. He cranked the engine and turned right to roar off toward that horse farm. “Now, let’s find those horses.”
Haven Falls #33: A Close Encounter of the Vehicular Kind
Lyle Ashley Tate and Carter ‘Gil’ Gillespie
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The trip out to the ranch had proved to be a waste of time for Gil, it wasn’t what he had hoped for at all. He wanted to go trail riding, with a guide, because he didn’t know the area and he wasn’t used to riding western style. There was another option the rancher had suggested, Christopher Melky’s place, the Bria Cia Ranch. He would try there tomorrow maybe.
He reached the intersection where Lance had pulled him over and he made sure he crossed it carefully on his way back home. He wondered if he should take a look at the beach before he went back.
He was full of thoughts about what to eat that evening, wondering if he needed to find a store, when he reached another intersection. He looked each way and was about to pull out when a horn blared, and he braked hard. Damn it, where had that come from? A blue 4x4 swerved and came to a screeching stop. Heart hammering, Gil ripped his helmet off and dashed over, his rescuer’s instincts kicking in. He peered in the door expecting to see the driver, realising at the last minute that he’d done it again and gone to the wrong side of the vehicle. He sighed, and a rather angry young man turned to glare back at him. Stunning green eyes fixed him with annoyance from beneath a spiky blond mop. The guy definitely had a Billy Idol thing going on there.
Lyle was furious, the biker had nearly sideswiped him. He really didn’t need that kind of trouble on his first day in town. He questioned whether he was at all to blame for the near accident as he hit the brakes and pulled up, but decided it was all the other guy’s fault.
“Are you okay?” Gil asked anxiously.
“I’ll live, today”. Sarcasm. Yorkshire accent.
“You’re a Brit?” Gil was surprised.
“There’s a lot of us about, so I hear”.
“Look, it was my fault. I looked the wrong way, I’m having problems getting used to driving on the wro... this side of the road. I am sorry. Now are you really all right?” This was going to be embarrassing, Gil thought, admitting he was a paramedic right after nearly causing an accident.
“I’m fine, half left like I’ve always been”. This bloke was too pretty to stay cross with, Lyle decided, even if they had nearly totalled each other. Lyle loved men in leather, and this one was top-to-toe in smart black biking kit trimmed with red.
“Did you hit your head or anything? Are you breathing all right?” Gil quickly came around to the driver’s door to reassure himself that the man really hadn’t suffered any damage.
Don’t let him try and check you out too closely, Lyle thought. He stuck a hand through the window in greeting, at the same time obscuring his own upper body from the biker’s view.
“I’m Lyle Tate”.
“Oh, Carter Gillespie”. He paused a fraction too long,
digesting the name and trying not to crack a smile. He wondered how many of the natives would notice the joke Lyle’s parents seemed to have pulled on their son when naming him. He shook hands instead to cover his lapse and said, “Gil, please. We might as well be on first name terms considering how close we came just now.” He smiled, hoping he might disarm the situation. The last thing he needed was for the sheriff to come by again and give him a ticket for dangerous driving.
“Do you live round here, Gil, or are you just cruising through?”
“I work here. Well, I’m on secondment”. Here we go, Gil thought. “I’m the new paramedic” . He waited for the sarcastic response. If there was one thing that was different here, it was the lack of sarcasm in the humour, but this guy is a Brit, Gil thought, and we just love it.
“Trying to drum up trade for me? I’m a trainee mortician, or will be come Monday”.
Well, that was a turn up. Gil laughed, he couldn’t help himself. “Wouldn’t be any good you being the stiff though, would it?” he suggested, shaking his head in disbelief.
Ignore the line, Lyle, he thought. No innuendos, you only just met. “I guess we’ll be seeing a fair bit of each other then, professionally speaking”. That reminded Lyle, he needed to get going if he was going to meet with his boss before closing time. Not that morticians could hope to keep regular hours, as far as he knew.
“You sure you’re okay now? You’re not seeing double? No difficulty focusing?”
“I banged my knee is all. I don’t think that can cause a concussion” He gave Gil a grin.
“You want me to take a look?”