Innuendo (6 page)

Into the earpiece lodged in Todd's right ear, Tom Rivers said, “Thank you very much, Todd, and we look forward to any other information you might have on this sad story. In other news…”

Todd glanced down, saw the image of Tom Rivers fill the monitor. Then he looked up, saw Bradley still hunched behind the camera. The next second, Bradley raised his head.

“Clear.”

Ripping away the earpiece and stuffing that and the stick mike into Bradley's hands, Todd said, “I'll be right back!”

Spinning around, he saw the kid scurrying across the street not toward Oak Drugs of course, but toward the DQ. Sure, scared and upset, horrified and confused, he'd walked here from the murder scene and was now fleeing to the one safe isle he'd ever found, that refuge of his peers. Which is exactly where Todd had seen him before. He didn't know the kid's name, but Todd was sure of it, this young man with the long, silky hair was a friend of Andrew. Or was he more? Had he been the one sitting there holding hands with Andrew during Todd and Rawlins's talk? If so, what did that imply, that they'd simply been queer friends, or that they'd perhaps been sweethearts?

A boxy truck with a smiling cow on the side rolled past, next a blue van and two cars, and then Todd darted into the road. His eyes fixed on the tall young man, he watched as the kid hurried up the sidewalk and reached the double doors that led to the Domain of Queers.

“Hey!” called Todd from the middle of the street.

Spinning around, the kid brushed his hair back and glanced toward Todd, his eyes now smoldering with what, anger? Recognition? The young guy hesitated for a second, then lunged for the glass door and swung it open.

Every bit of his reporterly instincts was piqued, and Todd wasted no time, breaking into a quick jog, charging up the sidewalk and past the display windows of Oak Drugs that were already filled with Halloween costumes. This kid, Todd was sure, wasn't just upset, he knew something. Throwing open the door and hurrying into the building, Todd looked up the broad staircase that was easily six feet wide and lit by row after row of fluorescent lights. The walls were painted a bland white, and Todd saw him just past the mid-point landing, climbing two steps at a time.

“Wait a minute!” When the kid didn't stop, Todd called, “I need to talk to you, just wait a—”

Without turning around, without stopping, he screamed, “Fuck off!”

More than a little surprised by this opening salvo, Todd hesitated, even slowed. Okay, what was going on here? Was Todd merely being an asshole of a reporter by treading into tender territory? Or was Todd right in chasing after this kid, sensing he might know something about Andrew's tragic end? There was, for sure, only one way to find out.

Todd didn't remember the rules, couldn't remember if uninvited adults were even allowed in the DQ, particularly at this time of night, but he plunged on, unable to stop himself. Grabbing the railing, he started up the wide stairs. He was about to call out again when the kid reached the top and disappeared from sight.

Todd continued up, and when he reached the top, huffing for air, he was immediately greeted by a young African-American girl, perhaps no more than sixteen or seventeen and wearing a plain white T-shirt and blue jean overalls. Her face round and cute, she wore glasses and had her hair pulled back in pigtails.

“Can I help you?” she said, from behind a reception desk.

“I'm looking for the guy who just came in here. I need to talk to him.”

“Well, I'm afraid you can't. I mean, adults can't come in unless they're invited to speak or do something official. Anyway, from the looks of it, Jordy doesn't want to talk to you or anyone else, for that matter.” She pushed up her glasses and glanced down a hall. “What happened, anyway? He's awfully upset.” She looked Todd up and down. “You're not his dad, are you?”

Gee, thanks, thought Todd with a scowl. But it was true. He was easily old enough. Todd's own son was, in fact, even older than this kid. And, yes, that was his name. Jordan. He'd been the one sitting there, holding hands with Andrew. Todd was sure of it now.

Trying not to sound like a bullying adult, Todd said, “No, I'm not family. My name's Todd Mills, and I'm a television reporter from—”

“Oh, yeah, I remember now,” she said with a bright smile. “You're the gay guy on TV. Didn't you and your lover come in here and speak or something?”

“Right. That was a couple of months ago. But we've got a problem tonight, and I need to speak to Jordy.”

“You know, I really don't think he—”

“I'm sorry, but either I talk to him or I call the police.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” she said, holding up both hands, palms out. “Come on, we don't need any shit like that. Particularly not on my shift, okay? I mean, I'm just supposed to be monitoring the place. I'm just volunteering.”

“I mean it.”

“Oh, man.” She bent her head, rubbed her forehead with one hand, and then, without looking up, pointed down the hall and said, “He's down there, first room on the right. Leave the door open. If I hear him shout or anything, you're gonna have to leave. Clear?”

“Thanks.”

Todd took a deep breath, held it a second, then blasted it out between pursed lips. Feeling oddly like the enemy, he proceeded past the monitoring desk and down a hall with fresh beige carpeting and newly painted walls.

Originally the DQ had been in a dump of a storefront on Lake Street, an idea born of a dream and that functioned on a shoestring. And it had worked, not only proving to be a much-needed haven, but garnering a lot of media attention, gay and straight. The dollars had followed, both from the queer community as well as, surprisingly, the corporate, and the organization had expanded and grown and moved here.

Todd stopped at the first door and looked into a room that was furnished with two couches, a coffee table, and a couple of standing lamps, one of which now dimly burned. A counseling or conference room, Todd assumed. Jordy was in there, slumped on one of the couches, his long hair swept forward, his body trembling and shaking as he sobbed. He wore old black and white high-top tennis shoes, baggy jeans, and a ratty, old wool coat that he'd either gotten from his grandfather or the Goodwill, probably the latter.

Todd glanced down the hall, saw the girl at the front desk staring after him, then knocked twice on the doorjamb and said, “Can I come in?”

Jordy looked up, and though he'd perhaps reached his full height, his face was still that of a boy, the skin smooth and pure, untouched by either acne or, for that matter, much of a beard. His face was long and thin, his chin narrow, and his eyes—those red, red eyes—were small, etched on top with two heavy eyebrows, the most manly of his features. A kid, that was all he was, frightened and scared to hell. And now witnessing Jordy's grief, the raw pain that was flowing unrestricted out of his soul, Todd knew what this was all about. Not some little tale of intrigue, but the death of a friend. The loss of a loved one.

Todd spotted a box of Kleenex on the coffee table, picked it up, and placed it on the couch next to Jordy. He then sat down opposite him.

“I'm sorry.”

Jordy caught himself, wiped his wet nose with the back of his hand, then tossed his hair back. “Is… is it really… really true? Did someone kill him? Kill Andrew?”

“I'm afraid so.”

“Oh, God!” He grabbed some tissues, blew his nose, started crying all over again. “Andrew wanted me to come over a couple of hours ago. I should've gone. I should've been there. Maybe he'd be okay. Maybe

“It's not your fault.”

“But…” He slammed a fist down on his knee. “Fuck!”

Todd was at a loss. What was he supposed to do? Sit there at a distance and let this kid fall on his own, or take him into his arms and catch him? In a moment of panic, Todd realized he didn't know what to do, how to handle this, in large part because he'd never learned anything like this from his father, who'd been so physically reticent.

Jordy shook his head, buried his face in his hands. “Andrew was just trying to get away from his family, just trying to start his own life, that's all! He just wanted to be himself, nothing more.” He stopped breathing for a minute, then blurted, “I hate this! I hate being fucking gay! Why? Why the fuck was I born queer? I didn't ask for this, I didn't!”

He dissolved into a fresh round of tears, and Todd felt something in his heart begin to break. A young man tonight had been murdered, the truth of which might never be learned. It was a tragedy, no doubt, but it was the sight of a kid beating himself up with self-hatred that crushed Todd. Perhaps it was because this was simply too familiar, that Todd had been there, berated himself time and time again, and had for so long hated himself for his sexuality. It had taken almost all of his adult life to get past it, and even then just barely, and so seeing it now, seeing it so fresh in someone so young, was almost more than he could take. It was as if he was watching a movie of his own emotions. Was there nothing he could do, no way he could protect this kid, make him see the truth?

He got up and crossed the room, sitting down next to Jordy and wrapping one arm over Jordy's shoulders. Just as quickly, Jordy elbowed Todd in the ribs and shoved him away.

“Get away from me, you fucking queen! Get your fucking hands off me!” he shouted. “You guys—all you think about is sex! You're nothing but a bunch of old trolls!”

It was like someone had slammed a board into Todd's gut. The color rapidly falling from his face, he jerked away his arm, pushed himself up, and quickly moved back across the room.

“Jordy, that's not what—”

“Shut up!”

How the hell could he convince him that he hadn't come here to lurk?

A head poked in, and, through a nervous smile, the girl from up front said, “Everything okay in here, guys?”

Todd nodded curtly. “Fine.”

“Jordy?” When he didn't reply, she said, “Well, I'm just down the hall. Holler if you need me, okay?”

Oh, Christ, thought Todd, sinking back in the couch and folding his arms. Sitting there in tepid silence, he watched as Jordy grabbed some Kleenex and blew his nose. Now what?

“When's… when's it going to get easier?” Jordy mumbled.

“Trust me, it does. It will.”

“Trust you?” said Jordy, looking at Todd as if he were crazy “Why? Why the fuck should I trust you of all people?”

Something else was going on here, that much was clear. And Todd didn't like it, not one bit. He felt Jordy's accusative eyes glaring at him, and Todd, for some inexplicable reason, became suddenly afraid. Shit, what did Jordy know that he didn't?

Spitting hate as he spoke, Jordy demanded, “You've come for me too, haven't you? That's why you're here, isn't it?”

“Jordy, I don't know what you're talking about. I was just doing a report out front when I saw you. I just wanted to talk about what happened tonight, I just wanted to see if you might be able to help.”

“Bullshit!”

“Jordy, I—”

“Awhile back you came in here, you and that boyfriend of yours, and told us how happy you were, how lucky you were to have found each other. You came in here and told us how much you loved each other, but—”

“What the hell are you talking about, Jordy?”

“—but it was nothing but a bunch of fucking lies! You know what, I hate you! And I hate fags! I hate ’em, because they just turn into old trolls like you that feed off kids like us!”

Through a haze of confusion, Todd began to see a glimmer of what might be going on in Jordy's head. Was that what this was all about, vulnerable boys with perfect bodies and powerful men with bulging wallets? Had Andrew, the runaway, found a way to make a buck not by cleaning hallways but giving blow jobs? And if so, did Jordy know who Andrew had been with earlier this evening?

“Jordy, was Andrew hustling?”

“How can you say that?” he said, staring at Todd with utter shock. “What do you think I am, just some sort of dumb-ass kid?”

“I'm sorry, I'm just trying to understand.”

“Understand?
Understand?!
” He bit his lip, reached down, and started pulling at a button on his old wool coat. “Well, understand this: I loved Andrew. I mean, I really loved him. I wanted him and me to live together forever, you know. I wanted to get married to him so I'd never lose him. I wanted the two of us to be happy, just like you two fuckers said you were when you came in here prancing around like the beautiful couple, all happy and everything. But then he came and took him away. He had everything too. Everything I didn't. He was so butch and muscley and hairy—it drove Andrew crazy. He fell in love with him right away. He had a car and money and—”

“Who, Andrew? Who?”

“Why are you doing this to me? Why?” he cried in a shrill voice as he pulled at his long, gorgeous hair. “Just stop it! Stop fucking with my head like this!”

“You're telling me Andrew was having sex with some older guy?”

“Of… of course I am.” He wrapped his arms around himself and started shaking. “You mean, you really don't know?”

“No,” said Todd quietly, as something akin to fear swept through him. “Why should I?”

Suddenly he knew. Or feared he did. And his entire insides wrenched. The answer was right there, too horrible to be thought, let alone spoken.