Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Gary pulled into the drop-off lane in front of the Fairmont. “If the coffee in your room isn’t up to much, I can recommend Jaho Coffee Roaster on Huntington. It’s only a couple of streets from here. They close at ten.” Traffic roared past: Copley Square was still wide-awake and buzzing.
Dan laughed, but there was a forced quality to it. “If you want to find a good coffee shop, ask a cop.”
That made Gary smile. “Sure. But don’t ask me to recommend a donut shop. I don’t eat them.” He glanced at Dan’s figure. “Not that you look like a guy who eats donuts.” Dan arched his eyebrows, and Gary backpedaled. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make personal comments.” And I have no idea why I said that.
Or why he kept looking at Dan every chance he got.
“Hey, don’t ruin the compliment with an apology.”
Gary noted his relaxed tone with relief. “Are you feeling better?”
Dan blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I got the impression back in the restaurant that something was troubling you. For a moment there, you were… I don’t know…
I’d say distracted, but it was more than that.
You looked like you’d had a shock.” Gary had analyzed their conversation, but he couldn’t account for the change in atmosphere.
The moment had passed, but Dan hadn’t slipped back into his earlier, lighter mood.
“I’m sorry about that. I… I remembered something important I had to do. I’ve calmed down since.” His smile wasn’t wide enough to create dimples, but he seemed more content than he had been. “Thanks for a great evening. I really didn’t want to eat alone tonight.”
“Actually, I should be thanking you.”
“For what?”
Gary’s stomach clenched. “I was certain you were going to ask questions about Cory.”
Dan’s eyes were kind. “No. You didn’t need that, not after today.”
Gary’s face grew warm, but it was a comfortable warmth. When Dan made no move to get out of the car, he blurted, “You said I’d agreed to your involvement because of Cory, but… I think you agreed to it because of the victims.”
Dan twisted in his seat to look Gary in the eye.
“Because they were all gay men? Like me?” He shrugged.
“You could be right.” Before Gary could respond, Dan scowled.
“No. You’ve been honest with me—the least I can do is be as honest with you.
When I got the call about the case, I’d already been watching the news.
I’d had no insights, no visions, but I wanted to help.
Seeing homophobia in everyday life is bad enough, but to have some maniac out there picking off gay men?
” He swallowed. “He has to be stopped. And I’ll do everything I can to help you stop him. ”
“Thank you.” Gary glanced at the hotel’s facade, with its flags, its red awnings, and the yellow lights that shone upward from the third floor, bathing the stonework in warmth. “I’ve never stayed here.”
Dan unfastened his seat belt. “The beds are supremely comfortable.” He gazed at Gary. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to aim for a good night’s sleep. I suggest you do the same—if you can. Try to switch your brain off.”
Gary’s chest tightened. “Easier said than done.” He extended his hand toward Dan, but pulled it back at the last minute. He tensed as Dan held out his.
“It’s okay, really.”
Gary took it. Dan enveloped his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Their gazes met, and Dan stilled, hardly breathing.
Gary shivered. It was as if all the tension had seeped from his body. The constriction around his chest loosened, and warmth tingled through him.
Dan’s eyes widened, his breathing ragged, and Gary knew he wasn’t alone. He feels it too. Then he let go, and the sensations were gone. Gary’s heartbeat quickened.
What just happened?
“Till tomorrow.” Dan got out of the car and hurried up to the main door without a backward glance.
Gary didn’t know what to make of it. His physical reactions to Dan’s touch had been pleasurable. But Dan…. He couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.
Gary pulled away from the curb. One thing was certain—he wasn’t going to mention it the following day. It would be a distraction, one they could both do without.
What stuck in his mind as he headed home was how good Dan’s hand had felt curled around his.
Dan aimed the remote at the wide-screen TV, flicking through the channels. Nothing registered. His mind was on Gary, his vision—and that tattoo.
Why torture me with a vision that can’t come true?
Except it was no longer just the vision. The evening had proved one thing—keeping his thoughts steady around Gary was going to be a real chore.
Keeping his thoughts to himself might prove an even bigger one.
Dan stroked his chin, and a tremor slid down his spine.
He could smell Gary’s scent on his fingers, only a faint trace but enough to stir his senses.
Opening himself up to physical contact was always a gamble; he avoided shaking hands wherever he could.
Thankfully he wasn’t alone. Lots of people didn’t like to “press the flesh,” as his grandfather had called it, and generally no one commented on it.
Dan made sure his courteous manner assured the greeter that no slight had been intended.
But oh my God, when their hands joined….
He could still recall each sensation and reaction: the ache in his chest, warmth spreading out from his groin, the fluttering in his stomach, and the hammering of his heart.
His pulse quickened, and he’d longed for more sensation, more of that connection.
Because he knew with every fiber of his being that Gary had felt something too.
When they broke contact, it was as if someone had turned out the light.
His heartbeat hadn’t slowed by the time he’d gotten out of the car. He’d hurried into the hotel, not wanting Gary to see him tremble.
Jesus. All we did was shake hands.
He switched off the TV and climbed into the wide bed, more than ready to leave the day behind. And for once he wished for the vision.
Will it have changed? Will I see him?
Lord, he was a mess.
Did someone up there think it funny to fixate me on a straight guy?
A moment after Gary closed his front door, his phone rang. He answered when he saw it was Nina. “Hey. How are you?” He walked into the living room and sat on the couch.
“Better. I’m only going through one box of Kleenex a day instead of two. That’s an improvement, right?” She paused. “Sorry to call you so late, but I thought you’d want to know. A date’s been set for the funeral. Next week. Tuesday, June fifth.”
“Where will the service be held?” Gary grabbed the notepad and pen from the coffee table.
“Bigelow Chapel.”
He gazed at the photo of him and Brad. “Yeah, been there. It’s a beautiful place. You probably don’t remember because you were only seven, and I don’t think you went to the funeral, but… that’s where Brad is buried. Mount Auburn Cemetery.”
“Oh. No, I didn’t remember.”
“I’ll be there. I’ll let the precinct know tomorrow, and I’ll take Tuesday off.” He scribbled the date and place, then put the pen down. “How are your parents?”
“Still in a state of shock. Dad’s coping better than Mom, I think.
I’ve written the obituary and sent it to all the newspapers—the Globe, the Herald, the Tribune, the Sun…
. It’ll be online too. I told Mom and Dad to expect the chapel to be packed.
Cory…. Cory went to the memorial service for one of the guys who was killed.
Vic something? It was right at the end of last year.
He said you couldn’t move in the church it was so full.
I’m expecting a similar turnout. Cory was a popular guy. ”
“Yeah, he was.”
“I remember him saying he had no idea there were so many gay men in Boston.”
That sent a shiver through him. And right now someone is working his way through them with murderous intent.
“I’ll save you a seat with us, all right?”
His throat seized. “Thanks, sweetheart.” The words came out as a croak.
“Okay. That was all.”
“Call me if you need anything?”
“I’ve been recalling things Cory and I said,” she blurted.
A soft sigh filled his ear. “You’re gonna laugh, but…
when I was a teenager and you and Cory were roomies in college, I told him you two should date.
I said you were perfect for each other. Well, apart from you not being into guys, of course. ”
“He never told me that.”
“Probably didn’t want to embarrass you.” A pause. “Good night, then.”
“G’night, Nina. Next time we talk, I want to hear you’ve halved your use of Kleenex. He wouldn’t want us to cry.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” Her voice grew firm. “He’d want us to celebrate his life.”
“Then you’d better start looking for a bigger venue for the reception. There’ll be a ton of men who’ll want to celebrate him too.”
Another pause; then she chuckled. “I’d better get onto TD Garden right away. It can seat thousands. You think it’ll be big enough?” She disconnected.
Gary went into the kitchen to make some tea, grateful for the distraction.
For all Cory’s confidence, he was self-deprecating and never would have assumed he was popular enough to warrant a huge turnout at his funeral.
The thought of a crowd of gay men gathered to pay homage to him injected ice into Gary’s bloodstream.
He could imagine the killer among them, no one suspecting what evil he harbored… .
Dan will help us. Dan had to help them. And Dan was messing with his head.
What is it about him?
Okay, so he was attractive. Gary worked with a lot of attractive guys—Riley was good-looking enough to be a model, for God’s sake—but none of them drew his attention the way Dan did. So what if he does? It doesn’t mean anything, does it?
Except there was more to this than Dan’s appearance. It was the whole package.
He intrigues me. Maybe that’s it.
That didn’t explain why a simple squeeze of his hand, lasting all of a few seconds, should linger in his memory.
Not linger—more like it was imprinted.
Nor did it explain why Gary’s stomach fluttered when Dan focused warm hazel eyes on him.
Jesus. What is wrong with me?
Why did he have the feeling that somewhere Cory was laughing his ass off and saying very loudly, I told you so. Now get your ass out of that closet.
His phone’s shrill ringtone shattered the quiet, and Gary peered at the screen. Lewis. He clicked Answer. “Something wrong?” Lewis wasn’t given to calling him at home.
“Are you sitting down? Because you need to be.”
Gary’s heart pounded. “What? Tell me.”
“I think I’ve found our man.”