“Which is fun for everybody,” Burton added, “because he also cooks when he’s happy, when he’s sad, and when he’s excited about meeting new people.”
“Everybody needs to eat,” Ernie said brightly. “So, uhm, when he’s done petting the kittens in there, have him wash his hands.”
Eric nodded helplessly, and Ernie padded off on long, bare feet.
“If you’re wondering if it’s just you,” Burton said, sounding baffled, “it’s not.” He shrugged. “Sometimes, you have no choice.”
Burton wandered into the kitchen, ostensibly to help Ernie, and Eric was left, staring at the nice policeman who had begged him so sweetly the night before.
He’d always assumed having a choice was the best thing aboutchoosinga lover, but as Brady turned a rather gamine smile in Eric’s direction, he thought that maybe—just maybe—he’d been mistaken.
“GOD, I’Mfull,” Brady muttered as they practicallyrolledacross the street after lunch, a little foil packet of dinner in Eric’s hands. “I… that kid cancook.”
“He was trying to make a nice impression,” Eric told him, and it didn’t feel like a lie.
“Why did you leave the kittens there?” Brady asked. “I… you know. I can tell you miss them.”
Eric grunted and unlocked the door to the RV. “I worry,” he said. “It’s a small space. They have more room to play there, and the idea of having to take off when they’re not secured….” He shuddered. “No, with the present situation, they’re really much safer at Ernie’s.”
“What do you mean, take off?” Brady asked after they’d both swung up to the inside. Eric had left the windows open that morning, and the inside smelled surprisingly fresh from the cool winter breeze.
Eric grunted and put the foil-wrapped brisket sandwiches in the fridge, making sure to use the lever lock that kept it from swinging open in transit.
With a sigh, he turned to his houseguest and reluctantly faced some reality for him.
“Listen, we’re hoping things will hold off until tomorrow morning, because we want a better idea of what Cuthbert and his goons with badges are doing, but you have to know that they could find this divot in the desert at any time.”
Brady grunted. “Notanytime,” he said. “I know you all were pretty upset when I showed up, but honestly, the only person at the station who had enough imagination and intelligence to figure this place out was sent on vacation last week.”
Eric cocked his head. “Sent?” he said.
“Yeah.” Brady frowned. “The day after the, uhm, murders actually. Tony got called into Cuthbert’s office and told to take unused vacation time—he didn’t even know he had it coming, but, you know, he’s got three kids and a wife who needs to drink coffee in Disneyland.”
Eric smiled appreciatively, but he could see Brady making the necessary leaps.
“I….” Brady swallowed. “Yesterday, when I realized nobody was coming, I thought that might be why they’d sent Teo away.”
Eric nodded. “You’d be right. Teo’s a perfect little soldier, but he’s probably also got a moral center. Easier just to not make him choose.”
Brady blew out a breath. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that the odds of them finding me here are slim.”
Eric hated doing this—he really did. “But Brady, you can’t stay here forever.”
Brady swallowed and nodded. “Wouldn’t suck,” he said with a pale smile, but Eric couldn’t let him do that.
“Yeah, it would. I mean, not forme—I’ve been….” He swallowed, knowing he was about to reveal something hard and naked and personal. “I’ve been searching for a place to hook my trailer up for… a long time.” He caught Brady’s perceptive glance then, but continued on. “But you’ve got plans, right? Go out in the world, do good things? There’s a reason you moved down here from Idaho after your uncle outed you to the force.” Eric had needed to read between the lines for that one, but as he watched Brady turn his head, as if dodging the truth of that statement, he knew his reading had been accurate.
“I didn’t know you’d figured that out,” Brady grumbled.
“You shouldn’t be surprised,” Eric told him, not wanting to be brutal. “There had to be a reason, and you kept saying you should call him up, ask him if he did this, but you wouldn’t.”
Brady swallowed. “My dad didn’t care,” he said, and there was something so raw, so vulnerable, in his voice that Eric felt naked in sympathy. “But he and my mom got killed, and politics got weird, and something that was okay in the family was suddenly something my uncle got drunk and bitched about at the local cop bar. And… and my sergeant told me he was going to pay me for a month but take me off the schedule so I could find a job somewhere else.”
His voice was breaking, and Eric’s eyes burned. Like he’d suspected from the very beginning—a true-blue, dyed-in-the-wool public servant, fucked over by his rainbow trim.
“Brady, I’m sorry,” Eric said softly. “I’m sorry about all of it. I’m sorry you had to leave your home for the godforsaken desert. I’m sorry you got caught up in something that wasn’t your fault. Hell, I’m sorry your entire department tried to kill you yesterday.”
He saw Brady pass the back of his hand over his eyes. His face was turned resolutely away as he stared sightlessly at the closed blinds over the tiny kitchen sink.
