The Hands

by Andrea Speed, A. B. Gayle, Jessie Blackwood, J. J Levesque, Katisha Moreish

  The stool scraped on the floor as Miles stood suddenly and took his empty plate over to the sink. “Look, Gil. Let’s get one thing straight if you’re going to move in here. I don’t want a nursemaid. I don’t need a nursemaid. I’ve been on this earth a lot longer than you. I’ve probably been drunk more times than is good for me, but I’m still perfectly capable of looking after myself. If you’re moving in out of pity. Forget it.” His hand shook as he rinsed the plate under the hot water. He’d been getting these vibes from Gil ever since they met. Fuck.

  “I’m not moving in out of pity. I’m moving in because you offered and my place is shit and I can’t afford anything bigger.” Gil said carefully. “What’s the matter, can’t I express concern for you as a friend? Miles, the last thing you need is a nursemaid, you need a kick up the butt sometimes, but you do not need a nursemaid.”

  “Well, as long as you remember that.” Miles walked up to Gil and shoved his finger in his chest. “There’s friends and then there’s interfering busybodies. One nag too many and you’re out.”

  Gil sighed and looked down at the finger pressed against his chest. He shivered and felt an unwelcome stirring further south. He looked straight into Miles eyes and willed himself to relax. “I won’t nag you, but...” He felt a cold nose on his hand and looked down. Roofie was staring up at him with a soulful expression. Bloody dog, just when he was about to...he took a deep breath. Maybe now isn’t the time, he thought. “So does this mean I can move in then? How about I fetch my stuff round tomorrow?”

  Miles watched Roofie nudge Gil in the crotch. Lucky bastard. I’d probably get my nose bitten off if I tried that. “Okay.”

  Gil jumped as the nose nudged him. Damn, why did he have to do that? Just hang the bloody flag out that I’m in a state, why don’t you? Thoughts of Miles doing that invaded his brain and made it difficult to think. He moved, trying to push the dog away without appearing obvious. Wait a minute, what had Miles just said? Okay? He’s agreed? Gil looked at the doctor and tried to focus. “Okay? You mean, it’s alright then. I can?”

  “Yep.” Miles walked over to the back door and lifted a set of keys off the hook. “I’m on duty tomorrow, so just let yourself in.” He hung onto the keyring for a second before releasing them and swallowed. “I’ll show you where everything is before you go, hey?”

  Haven Falls #176: Going Underground

  Aiden Parker, Flynn Archer and Henry Vale

  _____________________________________________

  Flynn knew he shouldn’t have stopped off and gotten a coffee, but hey, a little suspense in a relationship was a good thing, right? Not that he was any expert on relationship. Hell, all he knew was how to fuck them up royally in no time flat. Not really useful if he liked a guy.

  And this was starting to bother him. He did like Aiden, more than he thought he would. He wasn’t ready to use the L word, but ... fuck, he so didn’t need this right now. So why couldn’t he break it off? It was the smart thing to do, safer for Aiden. But since when did he ever do the smart thing? Smart wasn’t his forte.

  He walked down the road towards Aiden’s house, sniffing the tulips he bought Aiden, when he first realized something was wrong.

  Dante limped towards him, the end of his leash dragging along the ground behind him. Aiden was no where in sight, and the dog’s pristine white coat was coated with a layer of dirt. As soon as Dante saw Flynn, he whined and sat on the sidewalk, wagging his tail weakly.

  “What the hell are you doing out here?” Flynn asked. As if the dog could talk! But why was he dragging his leash? Aiden would never let that happen.

  He ran to the house, unlocking the door and bolting inside. “Aiden!” No response. It looked like nothing had changed at all since he’d left. He ran upstairs, making a quick tour, before running back downstairs again. Nothing. Aiden wasn’t here.

  Something terrible had happened. He knew it.

  A last ditch effort, he called Aiden’s cell. It seemed to ring forever before getting shunted to voice mail.

  As he stood there in the empty house, he started to turn very cold. It seemed to start in his gut and leech outward, bleeding into him like an open wound. He knew who was responsible for this, didn’t he?

  He decided to attempt to trace Aiden’s jogging route, even though he knew it would do little good. Then he was going to have to show Vale that, while he may be a loser, you didn’t live on the streets that long without picking up a few nasty tricks.

  ****

  Aiden woke - yet again - with a splitting headache. He was really getting tired of this and wondered what he had done this time. There was a moment of confusion before he remembered he had been out jogging with Dante in the woods, and they had come across some large man. They had talked somewhat, but past that, he couldn’t remember.

  With his eyes still closed, he tried to make out where he was, but couldn’t even begin to guess. Gone were the sounds of the forest, and he couldn’t hear Dante shuffling about near him. The ground was much to even, too.

  “Hello?” Aiden coughed out, his voice hoarse. How long had he been out? He pried his eyes open and glanced around the room, wishing he hadn’t done so. The room wasn’t too large, and he lay in one of the corners. A metal table sat in the center of the room with pipes and other metal pieces hanging from it. Something else, a freezer maybe, sat on the other side of the room next to a wall of sinks. A single, dim light had been left on, but there were more on the ceiling. Aiden tried to move his hand and push himself up, but found it locked behind his back.

  Where the hell was he?

  “Oh good, Mr. Parker, you’re awake,” Vale said, walking up to him. “Are you comfortable?”

  “You...” Aiden managed to turn onto his side enough to look up into the face of the man who had been to his house before looking for Flynn. Vale. “What the hell is going on?”

  Vale gave him a cold, sharp smile. “You haven’t figured it out yet, huh? I thought you were a teacher. I guess that explains why there aren’t any MENSA candidates here in Haven Falls.”

  Aiden glared at him and pushed his back against the wall, managing to finally get into a sitting position. “What do you want with me?”

  “I do admit to being curious what your little boy toy has told you about himself. Has he told you about his father?”

  “I know that you had something to do with his father’s death, and that the hand they found was his. He told me that.”

  Vale pulled a scalpel out of his pocket, wondering if it would help jog the pretty boy’s memory.

  “That’s what he told me, that’s it.” Aiden pushed back against the wall, shying away from the sharp metal.

  “Oh really? Did he tell you who his father was? Has he even bothered to tell you who he really is?”

  “His name is Flynn Archer and he may have done some things in his past, but I don’t give a shit about that.”

  Vale found it hard not to chuckle, which was weird, as he really couldn’t remember the last time he laughed. “You would if you knew, boy. His name is actually Erroll Ashton, and he’s made a life of being a petty, cheap shit criminal. Do you know he took part in a robbery that ended in murder? He ran away from it like a pussy, which must run in his family. His father was a pussy as well. Who knew there was a coward gene?”

  Flynn Archer. Erroll Ashton. Erroll Flynn. Robin Hood. Archer... Aiden stare at the floor as this sank in. It took him a few moments to answer Vale, but it didn’t matter. “I don’t care what Flynn’s name was before. He told me it’s Flynn, and that’s who I know. I’d believe him over you any day. Murder? It wouldn’t have been his fault. But you should look at yourself if you’re going to say shit like that. Why did you kill Flynn’s father? Did you kill his step-mother, too?”

  “I killed them all. I’ve killed more. You wouldn’t be the first or last.” This little boy was getting uppity with him, and Vale really didn’t like that, or him. Casually, almost as an afterthought, he lashed out with the scalpel, and left a
thin crimson trail across his left cheek which soon started weeping a lot of blood. He hadn’t cut an artery, but a few centimeters over and he would have. Was Parker smart enough to know that? “Now tell me everything he’s told you, or they’ll be finding pieces of your face all over the Falls.”

  Aiden jerked back as pain spread across his cheek. He felt a drop of heat slide down. He’d actually cut him! Aiden stared up at him in horror. “That’s what he told me! I don’t know what the hell else you want me to say.”

  Was he telling the truth? Probably. He seemed both genuinely scared and genuinely, deeply naive. Maybe Archer wasn’t as stupid as he looked. He found himself a piece of ass who really didn’t care what an amoral piece of shit he was. “Did he show the file?”

  “What file? Flynn hasn’t shown me anything. I’ve never even seen where he lives.”

  That statement briefly puzzled Vale. He thought he meant a physical file? Holy shit, he did. No, Flynn hadn’t trust this boy at all. He hadn’t shown him anything. “A pity, but it probably just saved your life. For the moment. You should thank Flynn for never trusting you if you ever see him again.” Vale turned away, and exchanged the scalpel for his cell phone. Aiden’s cell phone, which he had taken for his own use. When Flynn saw he was using it, he expected him to fly off the handle, per usual, and do his usual stupid thing. Maybe he could share the furnace with the corpse of his boyfriend. How romantic would that be?

  But Flynn didn’t answer his phone. Vale got shunted straight to voice mail. What, he wasn’t picking up his boyfriend’s calls now? “Mr. Archer, I have something you want,” he said. “You have something I want. We can either make an exchange, or you can start searching for your boyfriend’s dismembered body parts in the park. Your choice.” He then hung up, having said everything he intended to say.

  Curious though, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t Flynn answered? Didn’t he know he was missing yet?

  Stupid. He had to give the idiot an hour, because he was probably doing whatever he did. He didn’t really know Flynn well enough to say. All he knew from Martin Ashton was the boy had never been anything but a disappointment.

  Wouldn’t it be a shame if he disappointed Mr. Parker when he needed him the most?

  The thought of Flynn not trusting him stung, but if it was to keep him away from something like Vale, he understood. But still, when - he wasn’t going to think of this as an if - he got out of this situation, he and Flynn were going to have a talk. Aiden watched Vale as he made the call, curious himself as to why Flynn hadn’t answered, but that was okay. Flynn was busy. And Dante... he hoped he managed to make it home okay. Maybe someone would see him...

  “You’re not going to get away with this, you know. If I don’t show up for work on Monday and don’t answer my phone at home, they’ll look for me.”

  Vale turned back and smiled at the teacher. Naive to the bone. “Yes, they will. And when these things happen, who do the police look at first? The boyfriend. It won’t take much digging to find out Flynn is in the system. Then he’ll be suspect number one ... especially when you turn up dead. You should have had better taste in men, Mr. Parker.”

  “Most people don’t know we’re dating,” Aiden shot back. “I keep my private life just that. Private.”

  “Good for you. And he hasn’t told anyone about you two? And he hasn’t been over at your place, leaving his fingerprints everywhere? Good show. Way to be proactive.”

  Flynn’s fingerprints would be all over his place... but that didn’t mean anything. Did it? Aiden’s face darkened as he willed Vale closer to him. He tugged at whatever held his hands behind his back. “Bastard.”

  “So your boyfriend has claimed, and who am I to deny that? After all, it takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” Vale studied the glowering teacher, wondering if he should feel bad for him. For whatever reason, he’d been suckered by Archer, like almost everyone else. A pretty face could hide a multitude of sins. “If it’s any consolation at all, you won’t be my guest for too long. Flynn isn’t known for thinking things through. He should walk into my parlor sooner rather than later. If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll let you see him before I take care of business.”

  Aiden glanced at the distance between them and figured it was close enough. Throwing one leg out, he slide down the wall and kicked a foot towards Vale, trying to catch him in the ankle with enough force to do some sort of damage. The longer he sat on the cold floor, the more upset he became. Not at Flynn, but at himself for getting stuck in the situation.

  Vale raised an eyebrow at Parker’s clumsy, inept try at harming him. He hadn’t fought before, had he? Not even in a gym setting. Pathetic. At least Flynn had fought, although calling those stupid street brawls “fights” was insulting to the name of fighting. It used to be a gentleman’s art before it got tarnished by so many wannabes and testosterone poisoned idiots. “You don’t want to play this game with me, Parker. You will lose.” To prove his point, he leveled a kick at Parker’s pretty, bloody face, and connected solidly with the side of his head. He slumped down in an unconscious heap, no longer trying any half-assed bullshit. Seriously, he was a busy man, he didn’t have time for games.

  As he was leaving, Vale turned to the unconscious Parker, and said, “See what a nice guy I am? I could have broken your nose, but I didn’t. Perhaps you’ll thank me later.”

  What a pipe dream. No one ever thanked him for all the good work he did.

  Haven Falls #179 - Stan’s Diary

  Miles Sutherland - with mentions of Lyle Tate and Carter (Gil) Gillespie

  _______________________________________________________________

  The jangle of the alarm woke Miles from a deep sleep. For a while he just lay there, going through the day’s timetable in his head. He had an early morning shift so he better get moving. Before he went though he had to get in some food. He’d noticed yesterday that the packet of Roofie’s dog biscuits was nearly empty, plus he’d used all the eggs in making the omelet he’d shared with Gil.

  Miles swung his legs off the bed and stretched, hearing a few muscles in his back and neck crack in the process. It wasn’t a physio he needed to see but a shrink. What on earth had possessed him to agree to Gil’s moving in? Twenty four hours before he would have been happy to never see him again, but for some reason when Gil was around, Miles seemed to lose what little control he had of the situation. He didn’t like that feeling, not one bit.

  There was no way the guy could be interested in him, not with the good looking, Lyle obviously panting to get in his pants. What was done was done though, so he better get some food in before he left for work, both for Roofie’s sake and his new housemate.

  The store was nearly empty when he arrived. Roofie was safely tethered to a pole outside. He wouldn’t be able to buy too much: dog food, eggs, a few fresh items and a couple of frozen dinners for emergencies as he’d have to carry everything. If Gil wanted more he could come back later.

  As soon as he arrived home, he opened the freezer door to place the frozen dinners inside. The first thing he saw was the empty dinner packer that contained the diary Flynn had given him. Shit, he’d forgotten all about that. Miles stacked the new purchases in the freezer and sat down on a kitchen stool. What was in here that was so important that it needed to be hidden away? So important that Stan’s house was ransacked looking for it. So important that Stan had possibly been killed.

  Most of the almost illegible script was Latin. That much he’d already determined. Numbers. Miles grabbed a pad from beside the phone and started to write the entries down in a table.

  Stan had used the whole word “verus pondus” beside the first one then just the initials vp with the latter ones. That one was easy, pondis, ponderis meaning weight and verus, vera, verum meaning true or real. So that meant true, real or actual weight. The other term he’d used was “specto pondus”. Specto had two meanings, to expect or to watch. Which applied in this case?

  The numbers in this column of the table were al
l three or four pounds lighter.

  A cold nose nudged his knee. Miles glanced at his watch. Shit, he had to be at work in a few minutes and Roofie still needed to be fed. He picked up the new container of dog food and snorted. As usual the dry pellets had settled so the container was only half full. You could easily double the amount in there and nobody would notice unless you weighed it. As he tipped the food into Roofie’s dish, Miles brain whirled around. Maybe that’s what the numbers represented.

  Stan worked in the funeral parlor, maybe the cremation urns held more ash than they should. Shit, he didn’t have time now. Who could he ask? Certainly not Vale.

  The only other person was Lyle. Miles swallowed as he pulled up the zipper and fastened the last button on his work pants. He didn’t need to breathe in any more but he still wasn’t as trim and good looking as the prissy assistant mortician. Could he overcome his intense dislike and ask him what these numbers might mean?

  There were a couple of other strips of numbers and letters. Codes? Passwords? And that one looked like Bratva.

  He scribbled a reminder to himself on the pad. Cremation urns? Weight? Difference? Ask Lyle? and left.

  Haven Falls #180 Green Around the Gills

  Lyle Ashley Tate and Carter ‘Gil’ Gillespie

  (with mention of Miles Sutherland)

  _______________________________________

  Lyle ended the call with an expression of astonishment still on his face. Gil wanted to meet for lunch. There was a turn up for the books!

  He’d actually just been thinking about the man’s pretty brown eyes. Had Gil’s ears been burning? Those eyes were haunting his daydreams at the moment, along with other parts of the same man. He’d been trying not to get used to those images because he had no real hope of acting on his lust for Gil again any time soon. They’d had their one night stand.

  Could they be ‘just friends’? Gil wanted that, but did he? Lyle contemplated it as he showered. Making friends was a double-edged sword, in his experience. Thanks to the fact that he was in witness protection, he’d had to walk away from friends too many times now. Family was gone too, lost forever. Was all that a good enough reason to avoid making new friends -- that he might not get to keep them, or that he wished they were more than friends?