CHAPTER FIVE
Patrick
On Monday night,they sat around the beat-up kitchen table and shared a pizza. It was a rare night where they were all home for dinner. With two of the guys living in the house doing shift work—Simon at the firehouse and Bruce at the manufacturing plant—there was often only a couple of them home at any one time. Patrick and Mike were the only ones who worked standard business hours, and only on weekdays, so they saw each other fairly regularly; the others less frequently, only when their rosters permitted it.
“Does anyone want the last slice?” Bruce asked, the piece of pepperoni and mushroom already in transit to his waiting mouth.
Patrick shook his head and turned his attention to Simon. Simon gave him a small nod, the gesture letting him know he had support. God, he hated talking about this stuff, but he knew he needed to.
“So you guys know the details of the break-in the weekend before last,” he started. Mike and Bruce both nodded, their mouths full. “Well, I wanted to let you know that I’ve arranged to have the locks changed. I know it’s a pain in the neck, but I’ll take care of the cost. Also, Simon and I were talking about the situation while we were away, and we wanted to rule a few things out.” He glanced at Simon again, hating grilling his housemates like this. He picked up his drink and took a long swallow, but if he was looking for an out from Simon, he wasn’t going to get it. Simon recognized the delaying tactic and started speaking.
“Are you sure there’s no one with access to the house who could have put the letter on the bed?” Simon asked. “I know we’ve been over this before, but if we knew who might have come into the house, it could help.”
Bruce spoke through the mouthful of pizza, a crease marring his forehead as he looked between them all. “I gave Lisa a key. That way she can come over while I’m on shift and can lock up the house when she leaves. That’s okay, isn’t it? You all knew about it.”
“Sure. That’s fine,” Patrick hurried to reassure. “Plus she’s great to have around.”
“Especially when she cooks,” Mike added. None of the guys were particularly talented in the kitchen, but Lisa enjoyed cooking and liked to treat them all every now and then. She even went as far as leaving them with leftovers in the fridge when she’d prepared a meal for Bruce to take to work. Patrick never got sick of her beef casserole or lasagna.
Simon shoved his empty plate out the way, and leaned his forearms on the table. “You don’t think she would have given the key to anyone?” he asked Bruce.
“Of course not. What reason would she have to do that?” Bruce didn’t look pleased at the question. “Listen, if you don’t want her coming around—”
“No. Sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate she’d do anything bad. I’m just trying to think of every possibility.” Simon turned to Mike. “What about you? Have you given out any keys?”
Mike nearly choked on his drink. He placed the can of Coke on the table, and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Are you kidding? Who the hell would I give a key to?”
Patrick couldn’t help laughing. Mike was a free spirit and equal opportunity man. He was a good-looking guy and liked to share the love. Widely and often, but usually somewhere else.
“Oh yeah, I forgot commitment was your enemy,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes.
“Too true. Life’s much too short to settle for one person.” Mike’s smile was wide as he winked at Bruce. “Sorry, man.” Bruce shrugged, used to the digs about being tied down and under the thumb, and continued chewing on his crust.
Mike grinned at Simon, but Simon didn’t share his amusement. “Any chance one of your hookups could have gotten a key—”
“What the fuck?” Mike’s face hardened. “You make it sound like I’ve got a parade of girls and guys coming into the house. I hardly ever bring anyone back here.”
Patrick put a hand on Simon’s arm in an effort to draw his attention. This whole discussion was meant to help set things right, not stir up needless trouble. “He’s right, Simon. I know you don’t mean anything by it and you’re just trying to help, but maybe we need to think about this differently.”
Simon gave him a tentative smile, then pushed his chair back from the table, the sound loud and grating. He stood and started pacing, running his hand through his dark hair in obvious frustration. The fact he was so concerned warmed Patrick’s heart. It was nice to know he had Simon on his side.
Simon turned and faced Mike. “Sorry, buddy. I guess I’m just worried. I know I sound like an asshole, but I don’t mean anything by it. I just want to find out who’s leaving the letters.”
Mike’s features softened. “I know. We all do. It sucks that Patrick’s dealing with this, and I hate thinking of someone walking around inside the house. It gives me the creeps.” Mike gave an exaggerated shudder, and Patrick was flooded with guilt. If he hadn’t moved in, none of his housemates would be dealing with this crap now. Maybe he should think of leaving, finding somewhere else to live.
The scrape of his chair legs sliding on the worn linoleum turned everyone’s attention to him. Patrick ignored the stares and reached for the empty pizza box, carrying it to the counter.
“Patrick? I know what you’re thinking.” Simon stood at his side and rested a hand on his hip. Patrick resisted the urge to shrug him off.
Patrick’s tone was sharp as he swung to face him. “And it’s true. I’ve brought trouble with me and now you all have to deal with it.”
“Hey,” Bruce rose and slapped Patrick on the shoulder. “We’re all big boys. We can deal.” He looked back at Mike. “Right, Mike?”
“Some of us are bigger than others.” Mike winked, obviously making a dig about Bruce’s size and very healthy appetite. “But yeah, we can take care of ourselves.”
Patrick appreciated him trying to lighten the mood but he still felt awful about involving all his housemates in his problems. “Thanks, but you shouldn’t have to.”
“Maybe not, but that’s what friends are for,” Simon said.
