Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Provincetown, MA
“This was a good idea,” Gary admitted. They were sitting at a window seat in Café Heaven after finishing what had to have been the most delicious breakfast ever.
Lobster benedict wouldn’t have been his first choice, but the server had recommended it, and oh my God, it was awesome.
Dan hadn’t spoken once since his blueberry pancakes had appeared on their table, and he’d removed every trace of them.
Dan wiped his lips with a napkin and gazed out at the quiet street.
“I meant to bring us back to Provincetown next summer, but I figured we needed a break.” He glanced at Gary.
“After all, we are on vacation, right?” An eye roll accompanied his words but was gone in a moment, leaving him with a creased forehead. “The Airbnb is okay, isn’t it?”
Gary smiled. He’d asked that a few times since their arrival the previous afternoon.
“It’s fine. We don’t need much, right? Not for four nights.
And it’s comfortable.” The second-floor apartment had a double bed, a day bed, a kitchenette, and a functional shower.
Okay, so the shower was a little on the cramped side.
That was no bad thing. It meant he spent more time getting clean and less time thinking about squeezing Dan in there with him.
Dan fell silent, and Gary glanced at him. “You okay?”
“I said so, didn’t I? The first four times you asked me this morning.”
“Then clearly you didn’t do a good job of convincing me.”
Dan stared at him. “I did about as good a job as you did when I asked the same question.” All of a sudden, he twisted in his chair and gave a signal to their server. Then he drank what was left of his glass of water. “I need to get out of here.”
Yeah, Dan was most definitely not okay.
Dan paid the check, and they went out into the street, walking toward the east end of town, where they were staying.
There were plenty of people out and about: Tourists peering into store windows; couples strolling on their way to or from breakfast; guys on bicycles, zipping along, dodging cars; shop owners or assistants standing in doorways, chatting with potential customers; and the muted hum of boat engines out in the bay.
They’d walked for maybe five minutes before Dan spoke. “I hate this,” he murmured.
Gary came to a dead stop. “What—being here? This was your idea, remember?”
“No, not coming here. I’d have gone crazy if we’d stayed at home. It’s… it’s being here in such a beautiful place, and all the time there’s this undercurrent of—”
“Anxiety,” Gary blurted.
Dan caught his breath. “Yes, exactly.”
Gary put his arm around Dan’s waist, urging him to resume walking. “I’ve been on edge since Friday,” he confessed.
“And yet you let me drag you out here.”
He shrugged. “You were right. You weren’t the only one who’d have gone crazy.”
“You know, the more I think about it, the more convinced I become that Nathan knows something is in the works and that it’s going to happen soon.”
Hearing his own thoughts spoken aloud did nothing to quash Gary’s fears. “I’m not sure he knows where or when, but—”
“But he knew enough to call Travers, who pulls us out of our lives and routines for it. Otherwise, he’d have us looking at opening a new cold case, or doing paperwork, or something while we wait for news.”
“So what you’re saying is, whatever Nathan knows, Travers knows too.”
“Wait—you didn’t think it odd that Travers told us we were on vacation but didn’t give us a return-to-work date?
Of course he knows. And that right there is enough to tell me whatever is coming at us?
It’s right around the corner.” Dan sighed.
“Nice of them to share with us.” Gary couldn’t miss the note of sarcasm.
“And in the meantime, we’re waiting for the phone to ring. ”
“What do you want to do? Want me to call Travers? Or Nathan?”
Dan shook his head. “I feel so freaking torn. On the one hand, I want to push all of this from my mind and enjoy these few days together—if we can. But on the other….” He shuddered. “I want this to be over.”
“I know. Me too.”
Dan leaned into him as they strolled. “This is nice,” he said with a sigh. “Not having to look over my shoulder to see if—God forbid—we’re offending anyone by merely doing what straight couples do every goddamn day.”
“It’s not that bad in Boston, is it?”
“Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating.”
“And I think this is our first stroll as a couple,” Gary added.
That brought Dan to a halt, and a smile blossomed. “Yeah, you’re right.” He turned toward Gary, looped his arms around Gary’s neck, and kissed him on the lips, slow and sweet.
For a second, Gary stiffened until he realized Dan was right—this was a safe place. He returned the kiss, his hands on Dan’s waist.
Dan gave him an inquiring glance. “Take me to bed?”
“Now? And before you say a word, that’s neither a complaint nor a refusal.”
“I have to do something to expel all this nervous energy, all right? Unless you can think of another way?”
Gary understood better than Dan might think. Perhaps it was the thought of the havoc and calamity Robert Martin was—maybe—about to unleash, but he was painfully aware of his own mortality. Spending a few hours losing himself in Dan sounded like a goddamn perfect way to while away the time.
Anything not to have to think.
Wednesday, October 17, 2018
Dan opened his eyes and peered at his phone on the nightstand.
Six o’clock.
He toyed with the idea of trying to get back to sleep for another hour or so, but annoyingly, he found himself alert. Gary was still sleeping, not that Dan was surprised.
I wore him out.
Dan calculated they’d made love more times in the past three days than in all the months since they’d gotten together. And although the idea of waking Gary with a warm mouth wrapped around his morning wood appealed to him, the thought of a walk through the quiet streets provided a greater tug.
I need to think.
He eased out of the bed, gathered up his clothing from the day bed where he’d left it, and headed for the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, he scribbled a note to tell Gary what he was doing and left it on the nightstand beside him.
He unlocked the door to the apartment and crept along the veranda to the wooden stairs and down to the street below.
Commercial Street was empty but for the rolling sea mist that filtered between buildings, pressing itself to store windows and hiding the steeple that sat atop the town hall.
The Pilgrim Monument was shrouded in mist too.
He headed west, hugging his hoodie tight around him as a defense against the chill morning air.
He’d spied the causeway on Google Maps and had a rough idea how to get there.
If it proved interesting, he’d bring Gary back after breakfast to make the most of their last day in the town.
Unsurprisingly, they hadn’t seen all that much of Provincetown.
He wandered along, his mind always on the move, sifting through all the information they’d gleaned thus far.
The evidence pulled him in opposite directions.
He couldn’t deny everything pointed to a test on a far bigger scale than the monkeypox episode, but at the same time he couldn’t believe that something much bigger and deadlier was waiting in the wings.
But waiting for what? The perfect set of circumstances? The perfect pathogen? Maybe the professor’s heart attack had slowed things down.
Maybe a glimpse of his own mortality gave him a change of heart. Maybe he won’t go through with it.
God, Dan wanted to believe that.
Eventually he arrived at the causeway that was less of a means to cross the stretch of water to reach Race Point and more of an obstacle course where a giant’s child had tossed granite building blocks to be climbed over or navigated around.
Calm water lapped the rocky edges, and Dan thought he saw a seal swimming in one of the pools off to the right.
He came to a halt and watched as the seal’s head broke through the water.
The creature stared at him, then gave a loud snort and dove beneath the surface.
Cold seeped through the soft cotton of his hoodie, and Dan decided he’d had enough morning air. The mist dissipated slowly as he reversed his steps.
If only whatever it is that’s plaguing me would disappear so easily.
It had been with him since he’d woken, and he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something was imminent, hovering just out of sight, waiting to pounce, to rend, to tear.
He spotted a familiar street sign, and on impulse he turned left, not really certain why he was doing so. A single car was parked in front of the blue-painted house, and as he drew closer, he saw Sam watching him from the second-floor window. She waved, and Dan knew he wouldn’t walk away.
Whatever had pulled him there, she was part of it.
The door opened, and she stood there in sweats and a thick cream sweater, frowning.
“What are you doing here? Didn’t you go back to Boston?”
“We’ve been here since Sunday. Just a short break.” He smiled. “Gary’s still asleep. I needed to clear my head.”
Yeah, like that had worked.
She gestured to the interior. “I was about to make coffee. Want some? Mike’s asleep too.” Her eyes twinkled. “You know how I know that? His snoring shakes the house.”
Dan laughed. “Thanks for telling me. I thought it was a minor earth tremor. Coffee would be good. I need something hot after being out in this.” He stepped into the warm house, and Sam closed the door. A fire burned behind the grate, and he gravitated toward it.
“Take a seat. I’ll bring the coffee.”
“Are you always awake this early?” he asked as he sank into the couch. He stretched out his hands toward the flames that spluttered and spat.
“Not usually. To be honest, I haven’t been sleeping well recently.” She huffed. “What a shocker, right?” She filled the pot with water. “It’s so weird you coming here.”
“Weird? How?”