The Intersection of Purgatory and Paradise (11 page)

He discovered he had six text messages but nothing from Doug. All of them were from Brittney.

Dead body was Jeff Lowe
, the first message explained.

Difficult ID. Not much left.

Christopher’s breath caught in his throat as he read the next message.
They said he was the boy in the SUV last week. WTF?

“What the fuck is right,” Christopher said aloud.

Doug’s place is a mess
, read the next.
Tell him it’s still standing, at least.

He scrolled down.
So I’m picking Doug up from the airport? You know what it’s going to look like if he comes back without you? With that boy’s body being discovered out at the house?

The last message, from earlier in the morning, was just a simple
Are you okay?

“Fuck.”

He stared at his phone, wondering if he should call Doug. He wasn’t sure he could stand talking to him right now. He needed to talk to Sheriff Daniels, to do whatever he had to do to help verify he and Doug couldn’t have had anything to do with Jeff Lowe’s death.

He shoved his stuff, and the half-dozen things Doug had forgotten, into his luggage.

A quick knock on the guest room door was followed by his partner barging in. “Ready to go? There’s a Smashburger by the highway that’s decent.” Ray stared at him, taking in the cyclone of packing and frantic movement. “You’re not up for burgers, then?”

“Elkin is fucked up,” Christopher announced. “I mentioned that, right? That the whole damn town is so caught up in gossip, it’s like some twisted, sick version of Middle America.”

“You never actually came out and said it,” Ray pointed out. “But you were really obvious when you lied about how great it was.”

“I never—” Christopher stopped cold when Ray narrowed his eyes at him. “Okay, I did. But now he’s gone back on his own. There are so many assholes in that town who hate both of us, and he’s walking into a case that sounds like a pathetic setup. Even the coroner came out and said so, but I’m not there to clear things up. I’ve got to go.”

“Huh? Case?”

Christopher’s hand automatically rose to the scar on the back of his head. The superglue the nurse had applied when he’d gotten the stitches removed was rough around the edges. He knew Ray had noticed, but his partner had been busy enough and tactful enough to keep his mouth shut about it. “It’s complicated.”

Ray smirked and joined him by the pile of clothes. He started folding a pair of slacks. “I’m me. I’m good at complicated.”

“A week ago, a couple of kids drove past me in an SUV when I was out running. One of them threw a rock and a couple insults at me.”

“The stitches you did a shitty job of hiding?” Ray asked.

“Yeah. Brittney, Doug’s ex, found out her building’s security cameras recorded it. She brought the footage to the sheriff. He’s pressing charges, and he wanted me to give a statement, but I figured it would make shit worse. Since I wasn’t planning on going back….”

“You’re an idiot,” Ray snapped. “Go on.”

“I didn’t give a statement. But one of the kids is the son of another deputy up there, and he brought him by to apologize Friday morning before me and Doug left.”

Ray looked disgusted. “One of his coworkers’ kids?”

“Yes. He identified the other kid, the one who actually chucked the rock at me. And yesterday Brittney called because she was dispatched to Doug’s house. Apparently there was a fire, and the fire department found a male body. Guess who it was?”

“Well, since Doug was here, I’m guessing it wasn’t him.”

“It was the boy who threw the rock. How much do you want to bet either me or Doug would be in a jail cell right now if we hadn’t been at your wedding?”

“No,” Ray said quickly. “There’s no motive for a setup. Nobody is going to kill an eighteen-year-old kid to frame you or Doug for murder. Kids have families, friends, and activities. I can see where being stuck in a place like that could leave you paranoid. And I think you’re too emotional right now to realize this is paranoia, not logic. There’s no way someone would kill one of their own to set you up. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I….” Christopher froze, letting Ray’s warning sink in. “I’m not….” But his partner was right. “I might be paranoid. But I can’t lose him like this….” Not after Doug had finally told him why he still woke up screaming and reaching for a weapon, when he could finally begin to piece together why Doug stayed in Elkin.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t go after him. Looking at the facts, it sounds like he could use someone to back him up. Or at least help him clean up the mess. You want help?”

“Help?”

“Yeah. Help, company, whatever,” Ray shrugged.

“But you and Elliot….”

“We’ve still got time off. He only went back to work today because he had to testify in a case. Either way, he should be home in a few hours. What do you say?”

“No.” Christopher said after thinking about it. “I’ve got to talk to Doug, figure stuff out. You’re right about me getting paranoid. He’s friends with his boss, and Brittney too, and I know there are other people up there who aren’t total dicks. But I….”

A homicide investigation he could handle, but losing Doug wasn’t an option. Doug had finally opened up about what happened, so now he could start trying to deal with it. But a lingering fear had been growing inside Christopher, fed by simmering rage, and he needed to deal with it before he talked to Doug. He didn’t want to help Doug work through all the pain of being victimized only to have this Leon guy turn up five or ten years down the road.

“The two of you don’t have to face everything in the world like you’re all alone,” Ray said, tossing the stack of folded clothing into Christopher’s bag. “Besides, with three of us, we can drive straight through and get there faster. Then, if you decide to stay, you can drop me and Elliot off at the airport.”

“No,” Christopher said, glancing at his watch. “I’ve got to deal with this, with him, on my own.” But with so little time to get to Montana and help corroborate Doug’s story, he’d need to enlist help to make sure Leon never came back to haunt them.

C
HRISTOPHER
STOPPED
outside of the expensive, sprawling house he wasn’t supposed to know the location of. He thought about the harness and pistol in the trunk of his car, wished for the comforting weight of the weapon against his ribs, and cursed. He couldn’t bring a gun into this home. Not if he wanted to come out alive.

A dangerous-looking man in a dark suit opened the door and stepped aside, motioning for him to enter. The door clicked shut behind him, and the man in the suit silently gestured at an ornate entry. Christopher followed him down a hall that led to the back of the house, keeping his eyes open. If someone tried to jump him here, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to boost his odds of getting out alive, but he wanted to see an attack coming anyway.

The butler—or bodyguard, Christopher really wasn’t sure—led him into an open, airy room lined with mirrors. Expensive gym equipment was spaced around the room, and a heavy free-weight set and squat rack sat in the center. Doing dips on one side of the rack was Ray’s cousin, Alejandro Munoz, drug dealer, sociopath, and one night five years ago, one of Christopher’s most tantalizing mistakes.

The night they’d spent together, when Christopher and Ray had first partnered up, had been Christopher’s one and only dalliance with a straight guy. When it ended, Alejandro had told him, apologetically, that he wasn’t into guys. That hadn’t stopped him from flirting with Christopher when they crossed paths, though.

This time, the bastard was shirtless, dressed in nothing but workout pants and sweat.

“I was surprised when you called. I never thought I’d see you again,” Alejandro said, lowering himself slowly.

“I hadn’t planned on stopping by,” Christopher admitted. “I’m actually heading out of town again right after this.”

“Oh?” He pushed himself back up, and Christopher wanted to growl at him as he curled his back and rolled up into a shaky handstand. He couldn’t picture Alejandro Munoz as a gymnast, but he had the strength and balance for it.

“Is this really necessary?” Christopher snapped. “We both already know you’re straight.”

Alejandro chuckled and gasped, lowering one foot and then the other before smoothly dropping to his feet. He wiped a thick sheen of sweat from his forehead. “I’m not showing off. I didn’t have time to work out today. Glad to know I can still make you uncomfortable, though.”

“You always could,” Christopher admitted without shame. “But I’m in a committed… uh, thing. At least I think I am.”

“You think you are?” Alejandro laughed. “You didn’t get married too, did you?”

“No. And even though I was standing there and had to sign the fucking marriage license as a witness, I’m still not sure I saw your cousin get married, either.”

“I know, right? My aloof little Raymond tying the knot!” Alejandro set a barbell on the squat rack and began to load weights onto the bar. “Raymond being too antisocial to stick with anybody is as much a universal law as gravity in my head. My whole view of the universe just got blown the fuck to pieces last week thanks to him and his FBI agent.” He loaded the other side of the barbell and slipped under the bar, letting the massive weight settle on his shoulders. “What can I do for you, Christopher?”

“I….” Christopher hesitated. He wasn’t going to second-guess himself now. “I need a favor.”

Alejandro did a deep squat, then rose slowly. He glanced at Christopher and did another. “I can’t read your mind,” he said eventually between squats. “If you could tell me what this favor is, I might be able to help.”

“I don’t even know if it’s something you can help with. I mean, it was years ago and on the other side of the country. Plus, I don’t even know the guy’s last name. And I—”

Alejandro finished his set and wiped sweat from his eyebrows. “You’re rambling,” he pointed out.

“I want to find out about a guy named Leon. He was a meth dealer selling in Miami Beach about six to eight years ago. He’s either gay or bi, probably had a thing for surfers, and might have bragged about compromising a member of the Miami-Dade vice unit.”

Alejandro cocked his head to the side, smirked, and then set the barbell down carefully. “A guy named Leon in Miami Beach? Do you have any idea how big Miami Beach is? Louis!”

The man in the dark suit stepped between them and handed Alejandro a bottle of water without a word.

Alejandro drained half the bottle and motioned for Christopher to follow him.

At one end of the gym was a set of glass doors that led to an ornate stone patio. Alejandro guided him outside and collapsed into a wicker chair with a blissful sigh. “Do you have any more information?”

“He had a contact inside the vice unit.”

“You know I can’t promise anything,” Alejandro explained, “And I need two things from you before I bother.”

“I’m not a cop anymore,” he lied. “And the answer would be ‘no’ if I was.”

“You won’t say no to me,” Alejandro said with a wicked grin. “First tell me why you want me to waste my time playing private investigator.”

Christopher didn’t want to tell anyone what Doug had confided, especially not someone like Ray’s cousin. But he also didn’t know anyone else in the world who might have the connections to find the man Doug still had nightmares about.

“He hurt someone I care about,” Christopher said carefully.

Alejandro stared at him for a long moment, obviously expecting him to continue. “If my help isn’t worth your honesty, you can get the hell out,” he said at last.

“It’s personal.”

“You think I don’t know how to keep a secret or two? Louis can’t hear us, if that’s what you’re worried about, and Raymond will never hear about it from me.”

Doug was gone, Christopher reminded himself. Back into his own private hell, where people glared at him and treated him like a criminal even though he was the closest thing Elkin had to a hero. It wasn’t like Doug and Alejandro would ever cross paths, and even if they did, he probably could trust Alejandro not to say anything. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to trust Alejandro not to stab them both or open fire, but he could trust him to be tactful.

Feeling guilty but somehow less hurt with each word, Christopher told Alejandro about his relationship with Doug, about the flashbacks and the way he treated the racism and abuse in Elkin as though he deserved it. Alejandro said nothing, just nodded to encourage him. When he was quiet, Christopher could almost delude himself into thinking he was confiding in an old friend.

When Christopher finished, Alejandro sat back. “I think I can find him. A guy like that, pulling a con like that—you’re right in thinking he’d have bragged. I can try to find someone who remembers hearing him talk about it.”

“It was years ago, but now that I know he’s out there, I’m always going to wonder when and where he might show up. And I hate thinking he got away with it.”

“I can’t promise anything, but if I can find him, I’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of it? No, I just….” Christopher insisted.

Alejandro grinned at him. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll owe me, though.”

“I don’t have anything you could possibly want.”

“I want you,” Alejandro said, and then his eyes grew wide as he heard his own words. “Not like that,” he added quickly. “I want you to come home and go back to work. Before Mr. FBI came along, Raymond was… self-destructing? I don’t know what the hell he was doing, but he wasn’t okay. You were good for him, and I slept better at night knowing you had his back. Honestly, I don’t see how he could have secretly been into guys all this time and not ended up with you. You’d have been perfect for each other.”

“No, we wouldn’t have been. Absolutely not.”

“You don’t think so?”

“There’s no way that could have worked out. For four years, he told me he was straight. I know he lies to everybody else. But I expected him to be honest with me. His version of coming out wasn’t a conversation, it wasn’t lots of questions. He kissed me! Right after I found out my brother was dead. He’ll always be my friend, but I’m not sure I can work with him again. I’d always wonder what else he was hiding, what else he was lying about.”