TAKE ME HOME (26 page)

“What?”

“About Mac. Who does he choose?”

Kyle tried to find a gut response, blurt it out, and then he’d know what he should do. It never came. “I don’t know yet.”

“What part of no one else leaves the train did you not understand?” The conductor glared at Kyle from the open door of their room. Kyle and Evan had been back for several minutes, and after checking on Rebecca and receiving major hugs of thanks from Sasha, they were getting warm and eating the food Oscar had brought for them when the conductor appeared at the door, pushing Oscar aside. Kyle held nothing back as he responded. “Evan twisted his ankle, fell down an embankment covered in rocks and ice, and landed in a freezing river during a blizzard trying to find a little girl you lost on your fucking train, but he’s okay, in case you were wondering.” The conductor’s face was devoid of expression. Then he nodded. “Good. Okay. I’ve got to go check with the engineer. This train should be moving any minute now.” He added a mumbled,

“Glad you’re okay,” and took off down the hall.

Oscar remained at the door, smirking for a moment longer, then said, “I’m sorry for all the inconvenience, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your travels with us.” He winked and turned to follow the conductor.

Kyle stood. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Evan slurped more of his soup. He’d already had two bowls and three pieces of bread since they’d been back. Nice to see him eating like a normal person again.

Kyle jogged after Oscar. “Wait up.” He stopped at the end of the hall, and Kyle asked,

“We’re leaving soon?”

“Yep. The train that’s behind us came in during the night. They’ve got the tracks clear now. A chopper’s been out looking for you since daybreak.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve gotten you into trouble, but I’m not sorry I went after him.” Oscar waved the apology off. “You did the right thing. What anyone in your shoes would’ve done. If it had been my wife out there and anyone had tried to stop me, I’d have punched their lights out.”

“I would have too, if it came to that. Do you know if there was someone else out in the storm last night? They would’ve gotten back on board before us this morning.” 136

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“Yeah. A man. Guess after we found Rebecca, he’d heard that you boys were missing and wanted to see if he could help. He knew the conductor wouldn’t let anyone off the train, so he went out on his own. Got turned around in the storm and had to wait it out in a cabin until morning. I was hoping that’s what you two were doing.”

“We did. What does this guy look like?”

“I didn’t see him. Just heard someone had come aboard this morning, but from what my buddy was telling me, it sounds like it was that big guy, Shepfield. I get the impression he thinks the conductor’s an idiot.”

The prison guard. He should’ve thought of that connection, and maybe he would have if he hadn’t been hiking through a blizzard and having a record number of orgasms. Had Shepfield known someone at a prison where he’d once worked? Someone who knew about a bank heist in the fifties? Or maybe he’d known the bank robbers themselves. At least one of them had been caught. He must’ve been convicted and served time for it. With someone shot and killed at the bank, he would have also done time for more than the theft.

Oscar cocked his head to the side. He looked odd without the Santa hat on. “Why are you asking?”

“I just need to know. Can you find out for sure if it was Shepfield who got off the train?”

“I’ll check.”

“Thanks. For everything.”

Oscar turned to leave, then stopped, a smile on his face reminiscent of the first time Kyle had seen him, sans the red hat with the swinging ball. “I’m really glad Evan’s okay.” Kyle gave a nod. He was too.

He couldn’t fathom the alternative.

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The train horn blared as they barreled through another intersection. Kyle read the last sentence and slowly closed the journal. He couldn’t shake off his sadness at the final words.

Sadness for his grandpa, for a man named Joe he’d never met, for himself and Evan and the ten years of their lives he’d wasted.

He stared at the back of Evan’s head and listened to the slight wheeze that wasn’t quite a snore, just the way Evan had sounded when Kyle had sat watching him sleep in the Motel 6 on their first trip to California.

The relief washed over him. Evan was alive and safe. Yet Kyle almost couldn’t breathe at the thought that both those things might have come to an abrupt end, that the day before could’ve ended differently in many ways.

He forced himself to focus on what he needed to do next. When the laptop booted up, he sat at the table, pulled out his phone, and connected it to his computer. He hoped they were far enough out of the mountains now he’d get a data signal. He did.

A quick search for the Denver Bank and Trust robbery brought up thousands of results. A scan of the first page revealed articles, blog posts, newspaper clippings, and photos related to the theft. He clicked on a link titled THE KOREAN WAR BANDITS and read the page.

The gang of Korean War veterans robbed a total of nine banks in Colorado, Kansas, and Nebraska in the early 1950s until all four men were apprehended less than two weeks after their final robbery at the Denver Bank and Trust on July 28, 1953, where a security guard was shot and killed. To this day, the location of the stolen money from their last heist is unknown. Due to the timing of the robbery, just minutes after an armored truck made a regional drop, it was the largest cash bank heist in the United States until 1997.

Some believe the gang hastily buried the money near their campsite outside Denver, Colorado before they split up and ran from the police. Hundreds of treasure hunters have scoured the area in search of the money but have uncovered nothing. Others believe it’s an urban legend that the money is still hidden somewhere, and that the funds were actually divided among the families of the bank robbers before the arrests were made and are now long gone.

The first man arrested, Charles Sybert, was stopped and taken into custody as he fled the robbery at the Denver Bank and Trust. The other three men were apprehended one week later, all three in different locations and all three arrested within forty-eight hours of each other. Each served their time in the same federal penitentiary just north of Denver. Charles Sybert and George Johnston subsequently died in prison. Sybert from a knife wound and Johnston from a fatal reaction to penicillin. Vern Paskowski and Henry Thompson died after their releases from prison. Paskowski was killed in an automobile accident, and Thompson was ironically shot and killed while he was a bystander during a robbery at a livestock auction. The premature deaths of all four men have led to more mystery surrounding the missing money, making this one of the most popular bank robberies for historians and treasure hunters alike.

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Kyle clicked more of the related links. All confirmed the same basic information as the first article. He shut his laptop lid.

All four men served their time in the same prison, and he’d bet he had already met someone who worked at that prison during at least part of their time there. Tomorrow, he was getting some answers.

He crawled into bed beside Evan, then hesitated. What the hell? It was getting easier to go with his instincts where Evan was concerned. He leaned down, kissed him on the temple next to the scratches above his left eye, and tucked the blanket higher around his shoulders.

Evan awoke a little sore and with that drowsy feeling of too much sleep, despite how much he’d needed it. The chug and sway of the train wasn’t helping him shake off the foggy feeling. But the press of a warm body along his back, an arm wrapped around his waist, and a hand rubbing his bare stomach did.

“You awake?” Kyle asked.

“Yeah. What time is it?”

“Late. You slept twelve hours, even with the nap when we got back yesterday.”

“Oh man. Guess I was tired. Did you get any rest?”

“Some. Been writing.”

“Yeah?” He rolled to face Kyle. The dark stubble he’d been sporting the day before was gone. Evan ran a hand along the smooth line of his jaw. “You’ll have the book done in no time.” Kyle turned his head and kissed Evan’s palm. “They said we’ll be in Chicago early tomorrow. I guess they’re hauling ass. Oscar said they’re making arrangements for everyone’s connections. We should be able to catch another commuter train home to Ohio like we’d planned and be there in time for Christmas Eve dinner at your mom’s.”

“Good.” Evan’s mom went all out every year, hosting both families for a huge feast, with drinks and games and gifts and Christmas carols. It would suck to miss it.

“Yeah. Thank God,” Kyle said, “because if we missed the party, your mom might’ve killed me.”

“Why you?”

“Because this is the first year it’s just us coming home, and nothing like this ever happened with—”

Evan pressed a quick kiss on Kyle’s lips. “Don’t.” He didn’t want to think about Dennis or anything else right then. Kyle was still being the affectionate man he’d been in the cabin. Evan didn’t want to let the rest of the world in. Not yet.

“It’s just…” Kyle rolled onto his back and folded his arms behind his head. “Your mom adored him.”

“She adores you too. You’re like a son to her.”

Kyle looked shocked by that. Then the expression was gone. He sat up with a start. “I got us something to eat.” He leaned over the edge of the bed and lifted a tray.

Despite his words to Kyle, Evan couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered what his mom would think of him and Kyle together. What would everyone think? Their families had no idea Take Me Home

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anything was going on, or had ever gone on between them. Was this going to be the worst Christmas surprise ever? Or would they be happy for them?

Kyle shifted around to the other end of the bed so they were facing each other and placed the tray between them. A small bowl of fruit, two cinnamon rolls slathered in creamy frosting, and a single bottle of juice. “They don’t have much left in the way of breakfast. I thought we could share.”

Evan reached for a fork, but Kyle was faster. He scooped up a piece of pineapple and held it to Evan’s lips. Evan hesitated a moment, letting the reality of Kyle’s action sink in. He opened his mouth and sucked the fruit and juice from Kyle’s fingers, the sweetness bursting over his tongue.

Kyle spoke as he picked up a grape. “I finished reading the journal.” He popped the grape into his mouth and got another he fed to Evan.

Who knew it would be so hard to concentrate while being handfed fruit in bed. “You finished it? Did it say where they hid the money?”

“No. Grandpa wrote mostly about his last week with Joe. He brought him to the farm with him. Introduced him as a friend from the war. Joe stayed there for a week.”

“Maybe the money’s at the farm.”

“Maybe. I don’t know where it would be that no one would’ve found it. Maybe buried someplace, but I can’t imagine Grandpa would have taken the risk to hide it where his family might’ve seen what he was doing.”

“You’re right. Especially after all he went through to hide the truth.”

“There’s a letter to me at the end,” Kyle said. “Written in the pages of the journal. Dated the same day as the first letter.”

“What did it say?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged and ate another grape. “I haven’t read it yet. I just…couldn’t.” His dark eyes held the same sadness as the day of the funeral when they’d watched those old movies. “It’s all that’s left.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kyle stared at Evan, his dark eyes going from that sad, serious expression to something lighter, happier. “Thanks.” Kyle rolled his finger through the icing of a cinnamon roll, tore off a piece, and held the roll up to Evan’s mouth.

That did it. Evan was convinced he hadn’t woken up yet. Might as well go with it. He licked the frosting off the length of Kyle’s finger before eating the bite of roll.

Kyle leaned in, his gaze focused on Evan’s mouth. He ran his thumb over Evan’s lips, then followed it up with a swipe of his tongue across the bottom lip. He topped that off with a long kiss that brought their tongues together. Like a slow dance that was becoming more sensual with each lingering touch of their mouths. Kyle pulled back and smiled. “Frosting. On your lip.” No way that was a dream. Nothing in dreams felt that real. Evan closed his eyes and let out a soft moan. Who knew fruit and pastries turned him on? He opened his eyes, afraid the embarrassment he hadn’t felt at his reaction would come barreling to the surface with one look at Kyle. He should’ve known better.

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Kyle threw him a smirk, that cocky look of confidence he’d seen him flash dozens of guys.

Evan had never been on the receiving end. And he’d never seen it mixed with such intimacy.

And maybe more.

Kyle said, “I talked to Shepfield.”

“What?” It was hard to be pissed while turned on and being handfed in bed, but he was managing it. “By yourself?”

“He’s not the one who followed us. At least, I don’t think so. I searched online about the bank robbery. All four men were convicted, and each served time at the same prison in Colorado.

Figured I’d see if I could confirm whether our helpful ex-prison guard worked there. Found out this morning he’s never worked at any prison outside California, and now he works private security in LA.”

“How did you find that out?”

“I asked him.”

“You’re some detective. Didn’t you think he’d wonder why you’re asking about his past?”

“I told him I was researching prisons for one of my books. Asked him all kinds of questions I didn’t need to know the answers to.”

“And you think he was telling you the truth?”

“I do.” Kyle ate a piece of pineapple, then brought another to Evan’s lips.

“Uh, Kyle, I didn’t hurt my hands. I can feed myself.”

“I know.” He looked at the tray between them. “Can’t seem to stop myself, though. I love watching your mouth.”

Yeah, this was better than the dreams. “If you squeeze the next piece over your dick and balls, you can watch my mouth suck it off you.”