“I cherish my ignorance regarding this specific field. That’s what friends who owe you favors are for.” The slightly sadistic tone of their IT queen had Andi flinching. Whoever the poor soul was, they had managed to garner Shireen’s full attention, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. She could be like a cat with a mouse, if the cat liked the mouse and wasn’t going to kill it.
“Any additional information would be great, Shireen. We’re traipsing in the dark here.”
“As if that has ever stopped you.” Shireen snickered. “I’m absolutely confident you’re going to crack this case. I’ll call you as soon as I have news.”
The line went dead.
George put the cell on the nightstand, where it almost immediately started buzzing with an incoming email, most probably the promised files from Shireen. His partner didn’t get his cell back. Instead, he started nuzzling Andi’s neck with his nose. “I hate this case.”
Andi closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of George’s skin on his own. “Me too.”
They stayed like this for a little longer, George busying himself with the skin on Andi’s neck, Andi enjoying the closeness that was so new for him. Finally, George lifted his head.
“We don’t have a whiteboard here, but perhaps we can make do with a sheet of paper.” He got up to get said sheet of paper as Andi assumed.
“Don’t forget we need pens as well,” he called after his partner when he left the room. George lifted his hand.
“In my bag.”
Andi grinned and got up to retrieve a leather pencil case from the side of George’s bag. It wasn’t their usual markers, which were for writing on whiteboards, but the same colors. His partner came back a few minutes later with an entire block of flip chart sheets. They put it on their ‘work’ bed because no other surface was big enough. George got out the black pen and wrote the names of their victims. With the yellow marker, Andi made lines between those who had ties to each other, namely Suzie, Isabelle, and Jagger, and also had a connection to Paradise Home, even if it was twice removed in Isabelle’s and Jagger’s case. Andi made a mental note to find out if either of the two had ever been inside the retirement home. Then he thought better of it and sent a quick text to Randy. This was exactly the kind of thing they had the young officer for. Judge Dunhill and Trevor Asten remained outside the group, which vexed Andi. There had to be something. They just hadn’t found it yet.
George had taken the red pen and was writing ‘killer’ even further outside with a thin, dotted line to the word Paradise Home and a huge question mark. After they had put in everything else they knew—which wasn’t much, sadly—they stared at the rather empty-looking sheet.
“Do you remember how we complained about too many suspects during the McHill/Portius/Miller case? I would love to have that complaint now.” George sighed.
“You’re right. Too many is definitely better than none at all.” Andi yawned. “Are we going back to Charleston tomorrow or are we staying here?”
“To be honest, I’d like to stay here. Drive around a bit, maybe back to the lake. Perhaps inspiration hits us. If we drive back, I’ll have to think about my birthday and my family descending on us, and frankly, I’m not ready to tackle that particular issue.”
“You’ll have to eventually.”
“Don’t I know it.” George put the pens back into the pencil case and placed it on top of the flip chart sheets. “What do you want to eat?”
CHAPTER 19
A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL
The next morning, George went on his usual morning run while Andi was still napping. He was weaving his way through the small park close to their hotel. Although ‘park’ was a rather big word for the circuit with a dozen sad-looking oaks and maples and small strips of green interspersed with benches that had seen better days. Still, it was better than jogging alongside the streets chock-full of morning traffic. Oh, how he missed their neighborhood back home where each garden was more vibrant than this so-called recreational park.
While he churned out his rounds, George let his thoughts wander freely, starting with the case, Savalle and DeCapristo, and inevitably ending with his family. More specifically his mother. He was pretty sure Daniel and Griff would accept Andi. Well, Daniel had already done so, and Griff could be persuaded. Father was more of a wildcard, but George hoped the man would see Andi’s integrity and sharp mind and trust George’s judgment. Mother, on the other hand, wouldn’t just roll over and accept whatever half-truths George was going to tell her. She also wouldn’t be swayed by Andi’s many qualities because she’d be too busy chomping on his faults and the very fact that everything about their relationship was unconventional. He knew this. If he wanted conventional, he would have gone and looked for some nice woman of color with whom he could have the usual 2.3 children (if that still was the average, he didn’t know), a dog, and a house with a picket fence.
With Andi, there would never be children. George was sure of it because his lover’s geschenk was the equivalent of four children, and George had never thought about having more than one to begin with. Plus, he didn’t even like children that much. And Andi downright detested them, with the exception of Tyler, who was so much like Andi that George wondered if he even counted as a ‘normal’ child.
Then his mother would chomp on the work partner bit. She would harp about the gay bit, though she wasn’t homophobic—this was purely from a career point of view—and she would emphasize the mixed-race angle. And George knew she would be right—was right. Well, not regarding the work partner thing because they had clearance from their bosses. On that front, at least, they were safe. But the other points were valid. Homosexual detectives didn’t have it easy. The force was still a difficult place for everybody who was different. As for the mixed-race problem, it amplified the homosexual quality of their relationship. Nobody would bother to stop and ask if George might be bi or pan—he was by now pretty sure he was pan—or what Andi’s sexual orientation could be. That remained a mystery. He was demi, definitely, but what else was impossible to tell. In short, in the eyes of his mother and most of society, their relationship was an accumulation of problematic circumstances without the monetary wealth to shield them from the worst, just waiting to explode in their faces.
And still George couldn’t find it in him to care. He didn’t know if this was because he simply hadn’t faced the kind of hatred and hostility all these things could bring. He’d had his fair share of racism, of course, and he had learned to deal with it. He’d also seen or heard about the aftermath of homophobia, but so far, it hadn’t been a part of his life experience. It was also entirely possible that Andi had consumed his entire being so wholly that he was ready to fight the world for him. George chuckled. Who would have thought that a grumpy white detective with more layers than he’d ever encountered and more baggage than one person should have to carry was the one to snatch George? And without actively trying to. It was beautiful and terrifying and wonderful all in one, just like Andi and his geschenk.
George finished his last round and made his way back to the hotel. He still didn’t know how to deal with his mother, he still hadn’t gotten any idea about their case, and he still wanted to strangle Savalle and DeCapristo.
He had done his morning sport though, which was a positive start to the day.
When he entered their room, he expected Andi to still be asleep, but his partner was upright and talking on the phone, his face a little pinched. Obviously, he wasn’t too keen on that conversation. He waved at George. “Chief Norris? George just came in. Is it okay to put you on speaker?”
Chief Norris? George hadn’t seen that one coming. Norris must have consented because Andi put his cell on a pillow between his feet.
“Good morning, chief.” George went to the wall left of the bed and started stretching his legs.
“Good morning, Detective Donovan. Detective Hayes has just confirmed that you know about Tyler’s latest…case?” Her hesitation at the end of the sentence made clear how conflicted she still was about her son’s ability. And in light of what George now knew about her father, he could relate. It didn’t change the fact that she had treated her son in a shitty way, but he could see how her own experiences with her ghost-talking father had put her on a single track of firm denial.
