Dillon picked up Jamie's hand and kissed it. "If you must, you must. I have to say, I admire your aunt's style. My father would have just marched out here and yanked me out of the car if he'd wanted me to come inside."
Jamie studied him for a minute. "Do you miss your folks?"
"A little bit, I guess. I mean, there are things I miss about them, certain qualities, but I know they can never accept me the way I am. Deep down I know I'm better off."
Jamie brushed the hair back from Dillon's brow with the tips of his fingers. "Why wouldn't you let me touch you back at the theater, Dillon? I wanted to."
Dillon all but purred as Jamie's fingers brushed against his scalp. "I know you did, and I wanted it to. But like I said, tonight was about you. Hell, I almost shot from watching you get off. Taking my own pleasure after that just wouldn't have been the same." His smile was pure mischief. "Are you that anxious to get into my pants?"
The porch light came on again. "I am, but I don't think Aunt Sadie is gonna wait." He leaned forward and kissed Dillon, a light brush of lip against lip, but enough to send sparks flying. "As much as I hate to, I'd better go. Aunt Sadie does so much for me, and she doesn't ask anything in return. The least I can do is respect her wishes."
"That's one of the things I admire about her, Jamie. She does what she does because she loves you, not so she can hold it over your head. Douglas Carver doesn't do anything for anybody unless he can get something out of the deal. My father thinks he owns the world."
It was like a switch someone had flipped. The nagging memory that had plagued Jamie since the minute he read Ben's letter finally popped to the surface. That night at the sheriff's station, Ben had told Jamie about meeting his boyfriend at the old Tanner Textile Mill. Ben's exact words were, "My friend's family owns the whole place." Jamie grabbed Dillon and pulled him close.
Dillon stroked Jamie's hair. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"
Jamie pulled back and kissed him again. "For making me remember something I've been trying to think of for days. I know who he is, Dillon."
"He who?" It took Dillon a minute before realization dawned. "You mean--"
"Yes. I know how to find Ben's boyfriend."
* * *
It sounded so easy at the time, but knowing how to find somebody, and actually finding them were two different things. After a week of searching, Jamie and Megan were finally forced to admit defeat. She'd been pulled into the project almost immediately, but the two of them were quickly coming to the conclusion that they weren't gonna find anything on their own. They'd scoured the courthouse and city hall, but the red tape and nonsensical filing system made digging up any sort of useful information impossible. Dillon helped as much as he could, but between work and school, he didn't have any time to spare. Jamie sat in the basement of the courthouse, pouring thru deeds. After an hour of searching and finding nothing, he looked across the table at his partner in crime.
"Megan, I don't think it's in here. Maybe we should ask somebody."
Megan blew a dust bunny off the end of her nose. "I'm all for that, but who should we ask?"
"How about your brother?"
"Brandon would want to know why we wanted the owner's name."
And then Jamie would have to tell him about the money. Damn. Megan was right. There was no way Jamie could go to Brandon. At least, not yet. He was fresh out of options when Megan said, "What about Heath?"
"What about him?"
"Well, he works for the fire department, and I bet they keep records of all the inspections done on factories and businesses in the area."
"Yeah, but Tanner Textile has been closed down for years. The owners would have no need for fire inspection reports."
Megan shook her head. "If the new owners are using the property as a tax write off, they probably have insurance. And if they have insurance, they had to have it inspected. I bet Heath could get a copy of the report, which would have the property owner's name on it."
"You make a good point, but you're forgetting one thing."
"What?"
"Just like Brandon, Heath would want to know what we were looking for."
Megan shrugged. "So we tell him."
"Huh?"
"Well, unlike Brandon, Heath isn't duty-bound to report that money. Besides, he loves Dillon. I just know he'll want to help."
Jamie hoped she was right, but he wasn't betting on it.
* * *
"You found forty-two-thousand dollars, where?"
Jamie did his best to dissolve into the couch cushions, but Dillon had learned long ago the best way to handle Heath was not to back down. He squeezed Jamie's hand and said, "You heard us the first four times we said it."
Heath got up from his perch on the chair and started pacing back and forth across the apartment's small living room. "So let me get this straight. Ben Lewis leaves Jamie a wad of cash and some hokey death-bed confession letter, but instead of going to the cops like any normal people would, the two of you have decided to break out your junior detective kits. What is this, Revenge of the Hardy Boys?"
Dillon hated to do it, but Heath left him no choice. He would have to play the M card. Winking at Jamie, Dillon said, "I told Megan you wouldn't help us, but she swore up and down you would."
Heath's head spun around so fast, Dillon was surprised he didn't get whiplash. "You dragged Megan into this. Damn it, Dillon--"
"Think about it, Heath. Do you really think I could force Megan to do anything she didn't wanna do?"
Heath sank back down into his chair wearing that same defeated look that most of the men in Megan's life wore. "No, Megan knows her own mind. Was it really her idea for me to ferret out that info for you?"
"Yep."
"You know it could take me a while to access the records, don't you?"
Jamie spoke up. "We understand. We're just grateful for the help. Me most of all, since Ben was my friend in the first place."
Heath leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I'm not gonna get out of this, am I?"
Dillon hid his smile. "Not unless you want to disappoint Megan."
Heath's sigh was pure resignation. "That's what I was afraid of."
* * *
Heath had warned that it would take a while to scout out the owner of Tanner Textile. A while turned out to be three days. Friday afternoon, Dillon, Megan, and Jamie sat waiting in Heath's living room for a full report.
"Are you sure Heath said to meet him here?"
Dillon glared over at Megan from where he sat on the couch, cuddling with Jamie. "No less sure than I was the first four times you asked me, Megan." Megan sat in Heath's favorite chair, her legs curled beneath her. "I know, I know. I'm a gnat, buzzing around and bugging the crap out of you both. But I can't help it. I want this thing resolved so you and Jamie won't have to worry about it anymore."
Dillon was immediately contrite. "Sorry, Meggie. Didn't mean to snap. Ever since Heath called me this afternoon and asked us to meet him here, I've been on edge."
Jamie squeezed Dillon's hand and gave Megan one of his killer smiles. "At the risk of sounding like a puss, I just want to thank both of you for helping me. You didn't have to bust your tails to track down Ben's guy, but I'm damned glad you did." His voice cracked and his smile wavered a little. "I'm grateful, and I have the feeling that Ben would be, too."
Dillon pressed himself tight to Jamie's left side, and Megan came to sit on the couch, cosseting Jamie on the right. They were both so intent on giving Jamie their love and comfort, neither heard Heath come in.
"Hey, how come Jamie gets all the attention? I'm the one who's been busting his hump trying to track down Mr. Mystery Lover."
The anticipation in the room was so thick, Dillon swore he could taste it. Jamie stood up, but kept a death grip on Dillon's hand. Dillon and Megan rose as well, but it was Jamie who said, "You found him? You know who owns the property?"
"Yep. It wasn't easy, either, let me tell you. I spent my day off combing through old inspection reports, code violation tickets, rewiring permits--"
Dillon felt Jamie's trembling and scowled at his brother. "For Christ's sake, Heath, would ya tell us already?"
Heath had the good grace to look apologetic. "Sorry about that. Anyway, the property owner is listed as a Mr. A. F. Barnes, Junior."
Megan gasped, and Jamie said, "You mean--"
"A. F. Barnes, Junior, otherwise known as Ashton Franklin Barnes the Second, only has one son." Dillon swore. "Mother fucker. Ben's boyfriend was Ash."
"Maybe I'd better do this alone."
Dillon paused, his key poised in the Lumina's ignition. "No way, Jamie. Ash more or less tried to ram his cock down your throat the last time. What's he gonna do for an encore, strip you down and rape you?"
"Yeah, well, he was drunk last time, too."
"Who's to say he won't be drinking this time?"
Dillon had a point, but Jamie wasn't about to tell him so. Besides, he had to make sure of one thing before giving in. "You're not gonna jump on the guy and start pounding him the minute we walk in are you?"
Dillon gave Jamie his most angelic smile and said, "Me? Never." When Jamie made the "Yeah, right" face, Dillon said, "I promise, Jamie, I'll be the soul of understanding and compassion."
He sounded so sincere, but Jamie wasn't buying a single word of it.
By the time they pulled up to Ash's house, it was pushing seven o'clock. Jamie said, "He may not even be home. It is Friday night."
"Then we track him down." Dillon parked at one end of the circular drive and shut off the engine. "I want you to give him that damn letter and be done with it, Jamie. There's no way you can move on and start putting Ben's death behind you when you're constantly getting dragged back in."
That was one thing they were in perfect agreement on. Jamie wanted to end this, to settle it once and for all. He had a bad feeling about what was in that letter to Ash. He'd know that Ben had some fuzzy areas when it came to right and wrong, but he chose to remember Ben as the loving, devoted friend he'd been, not the desperate kid who often did whatever struck his fancy to earn a quick buck. Jamie didn't want to know any more than necessary.
Ash's house smacked of old money, from the cobblestone paths leading to the house from all directions, to the thirty room mansion itself. Jamie looked up, certain Ash's father must be having some sort of party. Every one of the more than twenty windows at the front of the house was brightly lit, giving the red brick, colonial façade an eerie orange glow. Jamie stopped short of the massive, oak double front doors. "It looks like they're having a party, Dillon. Maybe we should go."
Dillon shook his head. "I don't think so. Remember what Ash said at Ben's memorial service? His father and his new wife have gone on a second honeymoon. It's only been two weeks. I doubt seriously if they'd be back yet."
"Maybe Ash is having a bunch of his football cronies over."
Dillon looked around. "Then where are all the cars? Or the loud music? Hell, with that crowd Ash hangs around with, someone would be shit-faced and standing in the front yard crushing beer cans between his naked ass cheeks."
Jamie could have gone years without having that visual image in his head. He gave in and rang the doorbell. He and Dillon waited, listening while the chimes echoed throughout the home. Jamie half expected one of those old English butlers to answer the door, but a red-eyed Ash came to the summons instead.
Ash took one look at Jamie and Dillon, turned white as death, and said, "What are you doing here?"
"We came to talk to you, Barnes. You gonna let us in, or what?"
"Look, Carver, if this is about what happened at that memorial thing--"
Jamie stepped in. "It's not, Ash. We know you were drinking that night or none of that stuff would have happened."
Jamie thought he saw Ash relax a little, but not much. "If you're not here so Carver can kick my ass, then what are you doing here?"
God, this was hard. Jamie cleared his throat. "I, um, have a letter for you."
Ash narrowed his eyes. "A letter? From who?" His eyes went wide. "You're not suing me for assault or anything are you? Look, I know I was out of line there at the church, but I never really touched you. If you think you're gonna make me pay just because I made a play for you, you can just forget it."
Dillon didn't have much patience to begin with, and Ash had just stretched it to its limit. "We're not here to sue you, dumbass. We're here to deliver a letter from Ben."
"Ben, who?"
Jamie knew what was coming. He tried to signal for Dillon to stop, but it was too late. Dillon said, "Ben Lewis, Barnes. You know, the guy you were screwing?"
Ash looked first at Dillon, then at Jamie. After giving them both his best impression of a deer caught in the headlights, he promptly threw up.
Jamie glared at Dillon. "Help me get him back into the house so we can clean him up. Thanks so much, Mr. Understanding and Compassion."
* * *
Dillon and Jamie sat in the family room at the back of the Barnes house, waiting while Ash finished showering. Dillon had cleaned up the mess in the entryway, while Jamie had gotten Ash calmed down enough to clean himself up. Now they were just waiting. Dillon cursed himself. He should have just kept his mouth shut, but that was damn hard where Jamie was concerned. Dillon couldn't stand the thought of Jamie getting hurt, but it was more than that. Ash's attitude, his total denial of the relationship with Ben--of even being gay--stung. It reminded Dillon far too much of the way he'd treated Jamie two years ago.
He looked around the Barnes house. He'd been here a couple of times before, for some of those raucous parties he mentioned to Jamie. One thing always struck Dillon. No matter how many people were here, be it ten or a hundred, the house always seemed empty. The furnishings were top of the line, and Ash's father had obviously spared no expense with the decorating, but the place had a museum like quality, as if no one actually lived there.
Ash came back in a few minutes later. His hair was still wet, and he was wearing fresh clothes. The thing that got to Dillon the most, though, was the lost look in Ash's eyes. He'd seen it once before, the night of Ben's memorial. He hadn't recognized it the first time, mainly because he hadn't known about Ben and Ash, but he now saw it for what it was. It was the same look Dillon had worn for the entire two years he'd been without Jamie. Dillon's heart immediately started to soften towards the guy. Ash had been in love with Ben.
Ash took the chair directly across from the sofa Jamie and Dillon shared. He was quite for several minutes before saying, "How much do you know?"
Dillon was gonna let Jamie handle it from here on in. He'd done enough damage himself. Jamie said, "Not much really. Ben told me that his boyfriend used to meet him at the old Tanner Mills, and that said boyfriend's family owned the place. We tracked you down through that."
"Why, though? What does it matter now? What, you wanna out me because of the way I've treated you? Go ahead. At this point, I don't even care."
"No one's gonna out you, Ash." Jamie pulled the thick envelope out of his coat pocket. "Ben left me the key to a safe deposit box in his will. There were two letters inside, one for me, and the other labeled, 'To be revealed.' In his letter to me, Ben's last request was that I find out who his boyfriend was and give this to him. I've done that." Jamie stretched out the hand that held the envelope.
Ash looked at it long and hard before reaching out to take it. Even then, he held it between two fingers, as if it was a poisonous snake about to strike. Ash looked to Jamie. "What's in here?"
Jamie shrugged. "That, I couldn't say. Ben asked me not to open it, so I didn't. My job was to find out who you were and to deliver it." He stood up, prompting Dillon to do the same. "I've kept my word. Now maybe Ben can rest in peace."
Jamie turned to leave, and Dillon followed. They'd almost made it to the door, when Ash said, "Wait." Then, a little quieter. "Please?"
Jamie turned. "What is it?"