by Andrea Speed, A. B. Gayle, Jessie Blackwood, J. J Levesque, Katisha Moreish
The celebration seemed in full swing by the time he reached the Falls, and it looked like most of the town had shown up for it. It was wall to wall hot guys (and a few women) spread out across the spacious grounds, some sitting on the grass in groups or at picnic tables that must have been put out specially for the event. There was an especially long table set up like a buffet, and a matching one for drinks. How wealthy was his boss? If he owned this entire town, he no longer would have been surprised.
He fished a soda out of a tub full of ice, and looked around for a familiar face. He just didn’t know that many people in town, and wasn’t sure he should bother to do so. If he had to flee in a hurry, it would make things complicated.
Flynn suddenly wondered if Vale would show his creepy face in the crowd, and started walking around. This might be a worthy place to confront him, because with so many people around and quite a few of them off duty cops, Vale would probably want to keep things quiet. If he was a real bastard. Honestly he didn’t know, he was just kind of hoping, because it would make things easier.
He shouldered his way through the milling crowd, noticing a couple of interested looks (oh man, if only he had more time for a social life ...), when he thought he heard, over the general din, a familiar laugh. Flynn didn’t really place it until he saw two men sitting at the end of one picnic table, both handsome brunettes, although he only recognized one of them: Aiden. He seemed really chummy with the other guy, they were talking, laughing, nursing their respective drinks, and he felt a sudden stab of irritation. What the hell was this? Was Little Red Riding Hood really not so innocent after all?
Why was this pissing him off? He only wanted to fuck the guy, not take him to the prom, but still it gnawed at him. “Oh, grow up, asshole,” he muttered to himself, and then headed over to the table. Flynn said, in as casual a voice as he could muster, “Hey Aiden. Principal let you out early for good behavior?”
Aiden had been enjoying his conversation with Evan and found that they had both opened up quite a bit since discussing their dogs. Talk had even wandered to other things, which was great. He was definitely on the way to making another friend. When he heard a familiar voice - that wasn’t Angel, who he was expecting - he looked up in surprise, then felt the all too familiar blush cover his face.
“Flynn, hi,” he said with a smile. “Yeah, he did. Both of us, actually.” He pointed to Evan across the table and nodded. “Flynn, this is Evan Owens. He’s a math teacher at the high school. Evan, Flynn Archer.” He sipped at his drink and used one hand that had been around the cool can to wipe across his face in hopes of banishing the color and cooling his face.
“Hey,” Flynn said, to Dreamboat Evan. Holy shit, when did they start making teachers this good looking? Perhaps this was all some sort of “stay in school” master plan: fill it with hotties, and hormonal teenagers couldn’t stay away. A good plan really. So why did he really piss him off?
“Hi,” Evan replied confidently, wary at the flash of something he noticed in this Flynn’s eyes. Anger? Jealousy? It disappeared quickly and was replaced by a smile. He chanced a look at Aiden who had this ridiculous grin on his face and was blushing. Honest to God blushing. he shifted in his seat, wondering whether he should maybe make a move; let the two guys do..stuff. He finished off his beer in a single swallow, and placed the empty bottle in the table before him. Aiden wasn’t indicating he should go, so to hell with it, he was going to stay.
“Umm, do you want to join us?” Aiden asked, indicating the seat next to him.
Oh man, he was supposed to be looking for Vale. But yeah, like he’d leave this guy alone with Aiden. Little Red Riding Hood was his, damn it. “Sure, why not?”
Evan watched as the newcomer slid onto the seat opposite him, leaning in against Aiden possessively. The side of him that he left behind, the prankster, the boy who wanted to laugh at life...well that boy wanted to say something smart. But the man he was now...well he simply hung his head and concentrated on his empty beer bottle.
Flynn sat there, wondering what kind of fucking idiot he was. He just sat at a table with two high school teachers! What were they going to talk about exactly? Ulysses? What the lunch room was serving this week? God, he was such an impulsive asshole. “So, Evan, how long have you known Aiden here?”
“Nearly a year now,” Evan replied, looking anywhere except at Flynn, and catching sight of Angel hovering at the periphery.
Angel had been surveying the party for friendly faces when his eyes landed on the table with Aiden, Evan, and a man he didn’t recognize. Aiden was blushing and he looked like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to lean into the man next to him or jump up and flee. Angel considered leaving them to their own fate, but his soft spot for Aiden had him picking up a few extra beers and heading over to the table. He slid into the seat next to Evan and passed him a new beer. The man certainly seemed to need it.
“Hi. I’m Angel.” He held out his hand to the man next to Aiden.
Flynn glanced at him warily. Great, another guy. What was he, the gym teacher? “I’m Flynn.” He shook his hand, giving it a possibly harder squeeze than was called for. But he was about out of patience here. He wasn’t good with people, especially in groups. He had some trust issues a psychologist could live off for years.
“Flynn?” Angel threw Aiden a smirk. “You’re new here, right? How’re you liking it so far?”
“Well, I haven’t had time to see too much of it,” he admitted, then threw a knowing look at Aiden. “But what I have seen has been just fantastic.” Could he make him blush again? Oh, this was fun.
Aiden fought the urge to squirm in his seat and tossed Angel a mild glare. Suddenly the heat from Flynn’s body was just a little too much and he grabbed one of the beers Angel had brought over. He was just as quiet as Evan, and he wondered what Angel would say next. Flynn, too, for that matter.
It was just then that Flynn thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. A Man with silver hair, disappearing quickly into the crowd. Silver hair? Aw hell, was that Vale? He stood up suddenly, knocking the edge of the table with his knee, but he ignored it as he searched the crowd for Vale. There was no way this town had two guys with silver pompadours, was there?
Flynn’s sudden reaction was, quite frankly, bizarre, and Aiden’s eyes widened as he looked around. He glanced at Angel and Evan. Neither them had said anything, so what the hell was the problem? “Flynn, is everything okay?” he asked, more than a little concerned.
“Uh, yeah, just ... see someone I hafta talk to. Nice to meet you guys, see you around.” He then took off, trying hard not to run or shove people aside. Where did that asshole disappear to? Sure, there were a lot of people here, but most weren’t wearing three piece suits.
“I thought you said he didn’t know anyone else in town?” Evan frowned, watching as Flynn almost ran from the table.
“I did say that. That’s what he told me, anyway.” Aiden glanced back in the direction Flynn had run, but he was already gone. “That’s... very strange.” Looking back at his friends he frowned. “Sorry guys, I’m going to see what’s going on. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Aiden stood up to find Flynn, leaving his beer at the table.
Haven Falls #49: What a Sunday...
Carter ‘Gil’ Gillespie, with mention of Miles Sutherland
_____________________________________________________________________
What a Sunday this was turning out to be, Gil thought as he sat eating his lunch at the hospital cafeteria. He and Miles had been questioned thoroughly about finding the arm, but Gil figured it was really only so the Sheriff’s Office could corroborate the other man’s side of the tale. From what he’d seen there wasn’t much for the authorities to go on with regards to identification. There was the added implication that some poor sod had been dismembered and the rest of him had to be around somewhere. That certainly wasn’t a happy thought. The grizzly sight wasn’t the worst he’d ever seen but it was certainly designed to put a damper on
the day.
Damn it, why did that have to happen just when he seemed to be making progress with Miles? Okay, so he didn’t know the man very well but he’d had plans to find out, to talk while they jogged. Neither man had felt like continuing their run after that. Miles had retreated to the hospital and buried himself in his work again. Gil was on standby, which meant he was liable to be called in if anyone requested the emergency services. They had showered and changed and Miles had hardly said a word to him before going into work.
At least he had time to relax and regain his equilibrium. This was a quiet little place, completely unlike the busy inner city A&E he was used to. He couldn’t quite get over the ability to eat his lunch without having to dash back out on a job. Haven Falls was in many ways like a village with delusions of grandeur. It acted like a town, was big enough to call itself a town, but had both the community feel and amenities of a much smaller place. Gil actually found that he liked it, it was relaxing, people were friendly, the weather was warm and the guys were hot. Even his busy first week had been manageable by his standards. Hells Bells, after Manchester on a Friday night, anything was manageable!
His thoughts went back to Miles. Truth to tell, the doctor intrigued him. He wondered what went on behind those eyes. They had seen too much, had that slightly haunted expression Gil had seen in the eyes of ex-soldiers and coppers too long on the street. Been there, done that and really wish I could forget most of it, those eyes said. He wondered what had happened to the man to make him so…cranky with life. He still wore a wedding ring, had that habit of twisting it round on his finger. Was he married? Divorced? Widower maybe…. A dozen and one things flitted through his head before he curbed his curiosity. Stop it, Gil, he ordered himself. It really is none of your business.
He wondered if Miles was going to the Celestial Falls party that evening. Gil was British, he didn’t celebrate the fourth of July, but then, Miles was an Aussie, he wasn’t a native either. Gil wasn’t one to pass up the chance of a good night out though. Free food and drink was a nice gesture to make and he was interested to meet this Asher Rose. Having seen him briefly as their ambulance passed him on the street, Gil was looking forward to talking to him. Actually, it sounded as if he might meet quite a few people from the community if he went. Ostensibly it was a good idea but ideally he would like to go with someone. Trouble is, if he went with anyone, it would have the feeling of a date and he wasn’t sure he wanted that.
Gil wasn’t sure what people did on a fourth of July bash. It sounded like an American version of Bonfire Night, November fifth, only more sensible. Why have a traditional event in what was effectively winter in the UK? July made much more sense. Gil drained his coffee and wondered about getting a second. Actually, it was a decent brew and he succumbed to minimal persuasion. He thought back to the arm, wondering who it had belonged to. He quickly curbed those thoughts too. Remain above it, he said to himself. He needed to stay uninvolved. You could feel sorry for the poor guy but that was where it stopped. Professional detachment.
He snorted a laugh and drew curious looks from a couple of nurses seated nearby. Pity he couldn’t have been more professionally detached when Simon left him, he thought disparagingly. He shook his head, buried himself in his newspaper and ignored the glances he was getting. On balance, he was glad to be half way ‘round the world and out from under his ex-. He would go tonight, meet folks, chat to a few, watch the fireworks. He chuckled. You never know, he thought, if I get lucky, the night might end with a bang in more ways than one.
Haven Falls #50: Touching Base with the Boss
Lyle Ashley Tate & Henry Vale
_________________________
Following the close encounter with Carter Gillespie the day before, Lyle’s drive into town was made with an uncharacteristic degree of circumspection. He’d heard there were a number of non-Americans in Haven Falls, he just hadn’t put that together and come up with ‘numerous idiots driving on the wrong side of the road’.
Having failed to contact Henry Vale yesterday, Lyle called ahead before going into town this time. Until he had called he hadn’t been sure whether the boss of the Final Rest Funeral Home would be available to him on July the Fourth. He wasn’t sure, either, what to expect of the funeral home; Vale had interviewed him over the phone and via email, so he hadn’t seen the business yet.
Lyle had been advised that pretty much everything was in walking distance in Haven Falls, but he was surprised to realise it was mostly true. He parked up and made sure his Jeep was secure, put his suit jacket on and straightened his tie, then headed for the ‘Final Rest’ funeral home.
****
Henry Vale gave the place of business a visual once over. Everything looked sparkling clean, in perfect order, as it needed to be. He liked order. He honestly did believe that how you kept things reflected your inner landscape. A messy place indicated a messy mind, therefore an orderly place indicated an orderly mind. Above all, he was orderly. You could accuse him of many things, but not of being messy. He hoped this new assistant was neat. Riley was a disappointment, in more ways than one.
Maybe it was a stereotype, but he assumed because he was British, Lyle would be more tidy. He better be, because he wouldn’t last long here if he wasn’t. He heard a motor outside, a car pulling up, and straightened his tie. Time to meet the newbie.
****
Lyle took in the neat, tasteful window displays of he business he was about to start work at. The front door sported a very stylish ‘fancy glass’ finish, with the business name and the owner’s name picked out in frosted lettering. The place gave the overall impression of being both prosperous and classy. Lyle was happy to note this, as it suggested a certain type of boss too, the type he would enjoy working for.
This was a new career for Lyle. He had decided to enrol in Mortician School and seek out a qualified Mortician to act as his mentor a while ago. Finding someone willing to take him on had taken a while. To have eventually found, and then secured, a job in Haven Falls was especially pleasing to him.
Lyle knew what he was taking on, and he felt he was well qualified for the role he was aspiring to. He was aware there was a strong GBLTTQ presence in the Haven Falls area and believed he could be helpful to that community by providing them with a professional, understanding, empathetic mortician service. He hoped his new boss, Henry Vale, understood his hopes and goals well enough to support him in his endeavours. In return, Mr. Vale would find Lyle to be a hard-working, polite, efficient employee.
Impressed by the outward appearance of the funeral home, Lyle walked up to the door and entered. Quaintly, a small brass bell was hung behind the door and it tinkled as he stepped across the threshold. It made Lyle think of the small bells which used to be used as insurance against the accidental burial of someone living, a concern common amongst the Victorians.
“Hello. Lyle Ashley Tate, I presume?” At least he was neatly dressed, very presentable. Did he have a bit too much gel in his hair? Perhaps a little, but he supposed he could write that off as new job jitters. His suit was neat and well tailored, but Henry took some quiet satisfaction in knowing his was much better.
“Yes Sir.” Lyle proffered a hand. They shook with enthusiasm. Lyle noted a degree of competitiveness in how hard Henry Vale’s grip was compared with his own. He concluded he should tread carefully.
“I’m really grateful to you for the opportunity you’re providing, Sir. I thought I should drop by and make your acquaintance in person before we get started properly, come Monday”.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be open today, with the holiday and everything. I guess our profession never truly gets a break, though”.
Henry twitched slightly, his dislike for the phrasing of Lyle’s words evident, but he replied smoothly. “Indeed. We are on-call twenty-four hours a day, to the benefit of our clients and their beloved deceased”. He noticed with some amusement the slight distress which briefly traversed Lyle’s face at this, knowing full-well it had not be
en mentioned as a component of his contract during their telephone and email discussions. “Worry not though, Mr.Tate, I won’t be requiring such total subservience to duty from you whilst you are training. Your studies take priority, for the next two years, and you will need to be properly refreshed each morning”.
Lyle couldn’t help smiling, relieved as he was to know that he would have some life outside of the funeral home after all. His instincts said that Henry Vale would be a hard task master, though he hoped also a fair one. This job meant a lot to him, so Lyle was willing to put up with quite a lot in order to achieve his long-term goals.
“Come into the office, we shall have some refreshments”. Vale led the way.
****
Henry Vale’s office was meant for the entertaining of clients as well as for dealing with business matters, and the decor reflected this. Lyle settled into a heavily padded leather chair, conscious that he was still in the ‘front-of-house’, whilst Vale summoned coffee and cake via the intercom. Once these had been furnished they began to talk business.
“You have very little practical experience, Mr. Tate...”
“Yes, I was surprised when you were willing to overlook that”.
“Attitude and aptitude are extremely important in our line of work, Tate. You convinced me by the tone of your correspondences and calls that you have the right makings in both areas. I am gambling that my judgement of you is sound, though you will still be expected to prove your worth, of course”.
“Of course”.
“That you have attended here today, prior to the formal commencement of your contract, is a good start. Too, despite your being at liberty, you have presented yourself in smart formal attire and are relatively well-groomed. I would appreciate it, though, if you could visit the barber and have your hair tidied before Monday”.
“If any are open, yes Sir. I’d not factored the holiday into my arrival. I’ll have it attended to by Tuesday at the latest, though”.