by BA Tortuga
“Anyway. I need to run out there and get my bag. I need to brush my teeth and all.”
“Good luck.” He’d offer to go for Lex, but there was no way.
“Thanks.” A faint smile pulled at Lex’s lips. “Be right back.” Lex stood, then pulled a windbreaker off the hook by the back door to cover his bare chest. He tugged up the hood too, suddenly anonymous.
“Very nice.” The temptation to watch him go was huge, but he was sore and tight.
Hell, as soon as Lex was out the door, Brant put his head down, trying not to cry or pass out or something. His head spun, and he thought maybe he should add more sugar to his coffee.
The door opened and closed, and he felt a touch to the back of his neck. “Let me get you a cold cloth.”
“Mmm ’kay.” He didn’t think it would help, but if it made Lex feel better, so be it. Then the cold, wet cloth hit his skin, and goose bumps broke out, it felt so good. “Oh God.”
“I know.” Lex chuckled softly. “Remember to breathe.”
“Right. In and out.” He remembered this from school. No passing out.
“There. Let me change it out one more time.” Lex put a different cloth on, the nap a little deeper. It gave him more chills, but it felt too good to say anything.
“Thank you.” He was buzzing, everything just a little too much, a little too bright.
“You’re welcome. Will you eat grilled cheese? I need something.”
“I will. I like a good grilled cheese. Hell, I like a bad one.”
“I’m on it.” Lex was a machine, moving around the kitchen and tugging out bread, cheese, and butter.
“I’ll go get Travis a bill of groceries today.”
“We’ll see what’s what. I’m not sure what happened to the ladies who were here last night. They might go today.”
“Yeah. The teachers from the school will start coming this afternoon. The people from Matt’s work will too, I have no doubt.” He wasn’t sure how to help, but he was prepared to do what he needed to.
“Have you had anyone look at your hands?”
“Huh?”
Lex looked back over his shoulder. “Your hands.”
He looked down at his hands, which were all scraped up and yeah, stained with blood even though he’d scrubbed. Yay. Thank God he’d gotten off work.
“Couple of those are bad enough to bandage,” Lex added.
“I’ll put some peroxide on them in a bit, yeah. Thanks.” He guessed that was from where his hands hit the asphalt.
“If you need help, holler. I thought about changing to EMT for a bit, and I took some classes, so I know the basics.” Lex just seemed way too functional after… three hours of sleep? Four?
“Yeah? That’s a lot of cross-training. Good for you, man.”
“I guess? Not sure my captain thinks so.” Lex stacked cheese and bread.
“Why not? I don’t understand.”
“Oh, I think he worries I’ll leave. I gotta admit, Cruces can be tough, and after the bomber thing, I got a little squirrely.”
“Oh? Were you there then? Did you work that?”
“Oh hell yeah. It was ugly.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” That was why he worked peds, right? Some of the stuff that went on in hospitals would curl a guy’s hair. The statistics were nuts.
“Travis said you saw combat?”
“I did.” He swore he felt his hip twinge.
“I’m sorry. No one should have to see a war zone.” Lex put sammies into a press he hadn’t even known Travis and Matt had.
“I agree.” God, he didn’t know what to do. He was the king of small talk, and suddenly he was dried up.
“You want some sliced tomato? There’s one here on the counter that needs to get used.” Lex seemed to be focused on food talk, which worked.
“Please. Uh. Do you want chips or anything?”
“I could crunch if there’s something.” Lex rewarded him with a smile, a real one this time, which made him blink.
Jesus—William Levy meets Diego Luna. Pretty, pretty. Lean, strong. Okay, he wasn’t dead. Good to know.
Lex sliced tomatoes, so Brant got up to grab a bag of Ruffles. He needed to see if Trav needed food, but if he was sleeping….
Sleep was more important. The work ladies would start to bring casseroles. Travis’s momma would come from Durango soon. Neither of Trav’s people drove well at night.
God, his thoughts were just circling and doubling over on one another.
He shook his head, sitting back with his chips. Lex traded coffee for a Coke from the fridge, then joined him with the sandwiches. This time he thought he could eat without the initial nausea.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be here when Travis’s people showed up. He’d have to come when Matt’s did. Maybe he needed to get them all hotel rooms. Maybe he needed to get himself a hotel room and crawl into a bottle of something.
“Do you know the plan? I mean, for the rest of today?”
He snorted, damn near choking on his sandwich. “Trav’s people will be here in an hour or two. Matty’s people are thirteen hours away, so… they’ll be here about the same time? The police said they’d call. Matt is at the coroner’s office, getting autopsied, because what if it wasn’t the bullet to the brain that killed him?”
“Huh. Well, if it didn’t, it was sure overkill.” Lex shook his head.
“It was. Trust me. I was right there.”
“I’m sorry. Cop humor sucks.” Lex gave him that look, the one that he probably used as a cop too. Sympathy on demand.
“I hear you. Nurse humor is probably the same. I’m just… I’m not… I just need to find my brain.” His brain was… broken. Or was that his heart?
“It will take time. Trust me, after the big bomb went off at the hospital, it took me a couple of weeks to even start thinking like myself.”
“Yeah. Were you hurt?” He thought maybe he would feel better if he’d been injured somehow.
“I got whacked in the head.” Lex chuckled. “That was sucky.”
“Oh man. Head injuries can fuck you up for days.”
“Yeah.” Something grim passed over Lex’s features.
“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t swallow all of the sudden, so he stopped, took a couple of deep, deep breaths. He needed to get the fuck out of New Mexico. Away from the crime. Away from… everything.
“Not your fault.” Lex shook it off. “You want a Coke or something? The coffee just seemed super acidy.”
“I think I need some Sprite or 7-Up or something.”
“Yeah. I think there’s some Sprite.” Lex was up again in seconds, hunting. He seemed to need to move.
“That would rock.” If not, he’d go get some at the corner store.
Sure enough, Lex found him a Sprite in the pantry closet and fixed it over ice for him.
“Thank you, sir. You rock.” He felt about as worthless as tits on a boar hog.
“I just feel weird.” Lex waved a hand. “I mean, Trav called and I came, right? What do I do now?”
“He’ll need help with the funeral and all the family. You ever met Matty’s people outside the wedding?”
“No.” Lex plopped back down, elbows on the table. “What are they like?”
“Great big goofy rednecks—they own a diner, have for thirty years. It’s wildly successful. I worked there, you know? When I was a teenager. Me and Matty both.” God, they’d had fun together, and Martha and John were good, happy people.
“Oh, how cool.” Lex just grinned. “They sound amazing.”
“And loud and exhausting.” This time Brant was the one to smile. And Matty was their only child. “I don’t know how I’m going to face them. How I’m going to explain.”
“You’re not at fault here, Brant.” Lex reached out to him again, and he let Lex touch his arm. “If they ask what happened, you tell them, but there was nothing you could do.”
“No one cares about that part. They just want to know why.
” And it hurt to know that he hadn’t been… what? Fast enough? Strong enough?
“I know. That’s them, though. You were there, and you know.”
“There was nothing I could do. It was over before I got out of the car.”
“Then just keep telling yourself that.” Lex was so serious.
“It’s the truth. He was dead before he hit the ground.”
“No, I mean it.” Lex shook his head. “I didn’t mean to sound flip.”
“I just…. He was my best bud. I would have done anything. I didn’t slack. I tried my best.” His voice cracked, and he pushed himself up to his feet, his hip screaming. “I swear to God. I would take his place.”
“Oh, son. Don’t you think we know that?” John Isham was right there, grabbing him under the arms as he nearly fell. “You’d no more hurt Matty than you’d hurt a child.”
“You look like hell, son.” Martha hugged him from the side, letting John support him.
“I’m so sorry, Mom. I swear to you. I tried to save him. I swear to God.”
“Son, you’re not the Good Lord. You can’t perform miracles. Have you slept at all?” Martha looked like hell on earth, like she’d aged thirty years.
“Yeah. Some.”
“Good. Travis upstairs?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay.” She disappeared without another word.
He stared at Pop Isham. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I know it. I do. He’s your best friend.” Pop was patting his upper arms. “You need to sit. Finish your sandwich, Brant. We’re here.” Pop glanced up, nodded to Lex. “You’re Travis’s best man, eh? The policeman?”
“Yes, sir.” Lex held out a hand, shaking Pop’s. “I’m so sorry, sir.”
“Me too. Are you going to be helping to get the fucker that killed my boy?”
“I’ll look into it with the locals, absolutely.” Lex said it easily.
“Good. I want him off the streets. Asshole. I hope his friggin’ heart explodes.” That was Pop.
“I do too.” Lex glanced at Brant. “I imagine you want something slower and more painful.”
“I want to shoot him in the belly and let him go septic.”
They all nodded, and Pop sighed. “Is there coffee, boys?”
“Yes, sir. I’m on it.” Brant limped over to the Keurig.
“You land on your hip yesterday, son?”
“Yessir.”
“Well, shit.” Pop surprised a laugh out of him with that. “You got your stuff with you?”
“No, sir. I just went home and showered, then came over here.”
“We’ll run you back today and get some stuff together if you want to stay over here, but if you want to go on home, I understand.” The way Pop said it meant he would be staying.
“I don’t know what he needs, Pop. I don’t know what to do. I have a guest room. I can keep folks.”
“Oh, that would be a help. We’ll stay with you once his momma and daddy get here. If it won’t be a problem.”
“No, sir. Never. I—” He squeezed his eyes closed as anxiety hit him again. Stop it. This is Matty’s daddy! This man just lost his son. This isn’t about you. “You’re always welcome.”
“Thank you.” Pop hugged him with one arm. “Where are you staying, Lex?”
“Wherever there’s room. I have an air mattress, so I can sack out in Trav’s office.”
“Trav’s people will have their RV. They’ll just hook up in the driveway.”
“Oh. Right.” Lex gave them a rueful look. “I’ve kept in touch with Travis, but his folks have always been a bit of a mystery.”
“They’re retired. Living the good life.”
Pop snorted. “Must be nice.”
“You love it,” Brant accused, handing over the cup. “That diner is your life.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it is. It’s been….” Pop looked at him, the man’s face crumbling, and Brant went to him, holding on tight.
He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t, but he could cry with his adoptive parents. He could mourn and hold on.
Chapter Five
LEX SLIPPED out of the room, leaving Brant and Mr. Isham alone. He had no idea what to do, so he moved to the front room to look out the window. Were the press ready to give up?
Yeah, no. Christ on a pink sparkly crutch. The local news vans were lined up along the road.
Okay. He pulled the curtain back into place. He ought to go set up the air mattress in the office. That way someone else could use the guest room. Then he would start making lists. And call the local PD. He still had contacts. He wanted to speak to Brantley, find out exactly what happened, see if he remembered anything new.
The shock from last night was wearing off, so this would be a great time to sit down and go over it.
Somewhere quiet, somewhere he could take notes.
He would wait until Brant was done with Mr. Isham, though. It would be rude to push.
Mrs. Isham came down the stairs, her face haunted. “Do I know you? You’re… Travis’s old friend, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His feet moved before his brain kicked in, walking him over to her. “What can I do?”
“He’s sleeping. I can’t believe it. And poor Brant. To have been there and not be able to help. That’s so hard.”
“It is.” He knew how frustrating, terrifying, and downright awful it was to be helpless when someone hurt a friend. “I’m so sorry.” He imagined he would say that a lot in the coming days.
“Me too. Do you know anything? I mean, anything more than it was a robbery? I didn’t want to ask Travis.”
“I haven’t heard anything else. I still have a contact here on the force, and I was just waiting for him to be in at work before I called.”
“Oh. Thank you. I just… you want a reason, right? Some reason the guy chose Matt.”
“I know.” He took a deep breath, not wanting to be awful but needing to say it. “You know there’s usually not a good one. Reason. If the perp is caught and someone asks….”
“I just… he’s a good man. No drugs, nothing like you see on the TV that’s risky.”
“You watch the forensics shows?” Was that weird, to try to distract her with small talk? “Would you like something to drink?”
“I watch a lot of ID. Yeah, I’ll come make iced tea. How are you doing, honey?”
“Tired, but I’m here to do whatever you and Travis need me to.” He walked her to the kitchen, where Brant and Mr. Isham were sitting now.
“I don’t suppose you know when they’ll release his body to us?”
“No, ma’am. Let me slip away for a minute and call my friend.” He smiled at all and sundry, then ducked out of the room again. They needed information; they needed to be able to do for Travis. And Matt.
He was exhausted, like to the bone, but he was the one who was the farthest removed. He was the cop; he had experience and contacts.
Lex called his old buddy Juliano Apodaca, figuring he’d be settling in for coffee at his desk.
“Apodaca.” Oh, he would know that gravel-and-whiskey voice anywhere.
“Hey, buddy. Alex Espana.” He wanted to make sure Juliano remembered him, so the Alex was more likely than Lex.
“Espana? No shit. I haven’t seen you in forever. What’s up?”
“Well, you heard about the gas station shooting overnight? Matthew Isham would be the victim.” Just saying Travis’s husband’s name made his stomach hurt.
“Yeah. Yeah, you got info on it?” The sound of Juliano’s voice went from curious to interested.
“I have an in with the witness, but the family has some questions. Can we exchange?”
“Sure. We don’t have much. We’re looking at the video, but it looks like a robbery with a hair trigger.”
“Damn. Well, I know the witness, Brant, interviewed with you guys already, but I’ll sit with him today and talk turkey.” He was pretty good at the interview, even if he was just at the point where h
e was going to take his detective exam. “Can you find out when they can release the body? Matt’s folks are here.”
“Sure. Sure, I’ll make some inquiries.”
“Thanks. I would love to take you to lunch as soon as things calm down out there a little. We’ve got three news vans.”
“Frigging coyotes. Make sure the family tells the funeral home to call the coroners. You using Daniels?”
“I’ll find out. I don’t even know if the family knows.” He needed paperwork. God, his head was killing him.
“It’ll be tomorrow at the earliest. Trujillo and Luz will be by this afternoon late. I’ll tag along.”
“Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. This is…. Well, the guy’s husband is my best friend from when we were kids.”
“Damn. That sucks. My condolences. We’ll do our best, no?”
“You always do, Juliano. Always.”
“This your cell?”
“It is.”
“I’ll text so you have mine.”
“You’re a prince.” He totally would take Juliano out for lunch this week. Just knowing everyone was going to push this case forward a little because he was in town and asking about it was good for Lex’s soul.
“I’ll text you when I know we’re coming.”
“Got it. I’ll see you.” He hung up, wanting to do a fist pump. He was doing something now, something useful, something real.
Lex headed back to the kitchen to get a drink. Maybe if he set up his bed in the office, he could snoop for papers. They needed to know what the life insurance was, the funeral wishes, all that bullshit.
He needed Tylenol and that drink, though.
The Ishams sat with Brant, two cups of coffee and a Sprite on the table, and they looked up at him.
Brantley had some blue damn eyes on him.
“I called the local PD. They’ll stop by this afternoon and fill us in. Does anyone know who is doing the, uh, arrangements?”
“I want to talk to Travis about it. He says he’s not ready yet.”
Lex shook his head at Martha’s words. The world didn’t stop for mourning.
“Well, the best guys in this area are Daniels. They’re great to work with. If he hasn’t picked something else, I’ll get the number so you can call.” He could push Travis because it wasn’t fair at all to put off Martha.