He should turn around and head out the bathroom window. But something
about the slow way the steps progressed above told him it wasn"t either of the
Shaws walking around in their own home.
He ascended the first step of the carpeted stairs, trying to gauge where the
intruder had gone in relation to where he"d arrive at the top of the staircase. There
were no more sounds anywhere in the house. Shouldn"t there be something? The
tick of a clock, the hum of an appliance—something. The silence faded as Jay"s
heavy breaths increased in volume with each step. It was as if he wore headphones
that only allowed him to hear his own heartbeat, his own deep breaths and nothing
else around him. The top of the stairs ended in the middle of a hall. Once there, he"d
have to decide which way to go. He wanted the flashlight back on. The moonlight
seeping in through the window of the front door behind him offered no hope he"d be
able to see who lurked in the house.
Jay climbed the last step, and the dark figure of a man crept by the top of the
staircase.
“Jesus.” Jay stepped back, and only then did he remember it was a step down.
His foot twisted on the riser, and he pitched backward. He flung his arms out,
grasping for the banister before he could topple down the flight of stairs ass-first.
A hand clutched the front of his shirt and hauled him forward. Jay swung his
arms, grabbing for something, anything, the flashlight in his right hand impeding
the process.
“Don"t hit me with that thing.”
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“Lincoln?”
“Yes.”
Jay gripped the other man"s biceps.
“Don"t fall either. I don"t want to have to call 9-1-1 and explain what the hell
I"m doing here.” Despite the annoyed tone of Lincoln"s words, the man slipped his
arms around Jay"s waist and tugged him close.
“What
are
you doing here?” Jay asked as he steadied himself.
“Same as you, I suspect.” Lincoln hadn"t let go of him. The warm body against
Jay"s had his heart easing, the fear subsiding. The touch was more intimate in the
dark, easier to let another person hold him, calm him. He pushed away from
Lincoln. No one was supposed to be that for him. Not again. “You broke in here?”
“So did you if the dark clothes and flashlight are anything to go by.”
Standing close, Jay made out the smirk on Lincoln"s face. “This is my in-laws"
house.”
Lincoln grabbed the flashlight, flicked it on, and shone it in Jay"s face. “Do
they know you"re here?”
“Shut up.” Jay snatched the flashlight back and started down the steps, this
time walking instead of falling. He had more of a right to be there. Stuart would do
more than tackle Lincoln if he found the man in his home.
“So where do we look first?” Lincoln asked as he followed Jay. “I tried the
upstairs but couldn"t find anything. Unless you count a kinky bondage porn DVD in
a bottom dresser drawer.”
“God!” Jay halted halfway down the stairs. “Don"t tell me that.”
Lincoln laughed as he joined him on the same step. “You know, heteros do
have sex lives.”
“I know that.” Or he had known it at one time.
“Shit.” Lincoln gripped Jay"s elbow. “I"m sorry. I—”
Jay shrugged him off and strode down the remaining steps. “They each have
an office. I was going to try there first. You might as well help since you"re here.” He
used the flashlight to guide their way to the back of the house. Lincoln was quiet as
he followed. Jay paused outside the first office door, and Lincoln smacked into his
back. Their heads collided.
“Ouch.” Jay rubbed his head and faced Lincoln.
“Sorry. Was thinking.”
“About what?”
“Nothing.” Lincoln stared at the floor, looking more like he did the first night
Jay had seen him at Sonny"s Tavern. “It"s just weird.”
“What? Being in their house?”
“Yeah. And…”
Jay raised the flashlight until the beam lit Lincoln"s face. “What?”
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101
“She lived here. She grew up here.” He kept staring at his feet.
Jay ached to pull the other man into his arms. Not only to comfort Lincoln, but
for Lincoln to comfort him. Why was he the only person Jay wanted to hear talk
about her? The only person he wanted to touch him? To ease his pain?
“I need to shut my goddamn mouth,” Lincoln said.
“No. It just shows.”
“What?”
“How much you care about what happened. How bad you feel.”
“God, did you doubt that?”
“Not since I met you.”
“Good.”
Jay wasn"t sure what else they could say. He entered Stuart"s office, and
Lincoln followed, pausing briefly at the door, then walking around the room. Jay
stood in the center and shone the flashlight on the walls and shelves where Lincoln
browsed. Jay had seen it all before. Photos of Stuart with his famous teammates
before the injury had forced him into early retirement. A signed ball encased in
glass. Framed awards. Metal trophies and wooden plaques. Winners and champs all
around. Did any of Stuart"s teams ever lose?
“Let me see the paper,” Lincoln said.
Jay handed it over along with the flashlight.
Lincoln shone the light through the back of the paper. “That"s a college seal.”
“What? Which college?”
Lincoln pointed the flashlight beam to a plaque on the wall. From the college
where Stuart coached.
Runner-Up, NCAA Division II National Football Championship—Stuart
Shaw, Head Coach.
Above that: the same college seal as the watermark. Even if Jay couldn"t make
out the words around the outer edge of the seal, it was obvious the two were
identical.
“Wanna know the funny part?” Jay said. “That was his first year coaching. The
way he tells the story, they won the championship game. He never gets the facts
right.”
Lincoln"s eyes widened, lips parted.
Right. None of this was funny. “Why would he use paper from his job?”
“Maybe,” Lincoln said, “he wasn"t the one to select the paper. It"s hard to see
the watermark without good lighting. I wouldn"t have known what it was without
seeing the same one on that plaque.”
Did that mean Emily sent the threats? “Should we keep looking?”
“I guess. Maybe we can find some of the paper to match up.”
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Sloan Parker
The search of Stuart"s office took a half hour and yielded nothing more except
the usual office supplies and file after file of team records and football play
diagrams. Who knew coaching a local college team involved so much damn
paperwork. Did anyone from his parents" generation store their files electronically?
Without a word, they made their way to Emily"s room. Lincoln went to the
large desk first. He flipped on the desk lamp. The glow shining through the rose-
colored glass shade was dim but offered enough light for their search. Lincoln
opened the top drawer and combed through the contents.
Jay stayed by the doorway and watched him, captivated by the intent way
Lincoln concentrated on the task. He searched drawer after drawer, careful with the
items inside, neatly putting everything back. He wasn"t overly muscular, but he was
toned, fit, strong. He moved with precision, each muscle of his body focused on the
activity at hand. Serious. Determined. Beautiful. There was not one inch of the
man"s skin Jay didn"t want to touch, to lick, to feel against his own body again.
Lincoln shut the bottom desk drawer and stood. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“I noticed. Something more you"re afraid of finding?”
“No. I don"t know. Yes.”
“Which is it? You can leave if you don"t want to be a part of this.”
“It"s not that.”
Lincoln walked around the desk. “What then?”
“Nothing.” Jay sidestepped him and opened a nearby cabinet. No way he"d
admit how the man got to him.
A fuck. Nothing more.
Together they searched the cabinet drawers. When they came up empty-
handed, Jay continued on to the next and found it locked.
“There were keys in a drawer.” Lincoln returned to the desk and retrieved a
ring with ten keys.
Jay tried three before the cabinet unlocked, and five hanging folders into the
first drawer, he discovered a thin box of blank cream-colored paper. He held a sheet
in the air alongside the note someone had sent to Lincoln"s old home. Same color.
Same thickness. Same watermark.
“That"s it,” Lincoln said over Jay"s shoulder. His breath came in heavy pants
and deep lines crossed his forehead.
“What are you going to do?”
“Come on.” He snatched the paper from Jay"s hand. “You think I"m just going
to let this go?”
“They won"t hurt anyone. This must be—”
“They took her fucking inhalers.”
“I can"t believe that.”
“You read the note.”
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103
“I know. I just… Let me talk to them. I can make them see what they"re doing
is wrong.” Maybe he could convince them tormenting McCaw wouldn"t do them any
good, wasn"t how they should honor their daughter.
Lincoln"s stare didn"t falter. Finally, he said, “For you. Because I owe you.”
“You don"t owe me anything.”
“Right.” Lincoln returned the paper to the box and shoved the cabinet door
shut. “One more note, and I"m going to the cops.”
Jay nodded. It was a fair deal. More than the Shaws deserved. Lincoln was
putting a lot of trust in him, and Jay intended to live up to it. No one else was going
to get hurt.
Solid footsteps thudded out in the hall. Jay spun toward the closed office door.
“Shit. Not again.” Lincoln eyed the window behind the desk.
The steps grew louder, sounding angry as they thudded against the hardwood
floor. No one would miss the light seeping out from under the office door.
Lincoln went to the window and cursed in a low hiss as he tried to work the
lock.
Jay gripped his hand. “They have security lights.”
“I know. I triggered one earlier when I came in through the garage window,
but since the cops didn"t come I figured there wasn"t an alarm.”
“Well, they"ll see now. You have to go out the small bath by the kitchen.”
Without hesitation Jay held Lincoln"s face in his hands and kissed him, a press of
lips hard enough they"d both feel it minutes later. Had the panic in Jay"s chest
short-circuited his brain? He let go, grabbed a notepad and a pen from the desk, and
flipped off the office light, leaving Lincoln in the darkness behind him. The Shaws
could not find Lincoln in their house. Things would get even more fucked-up than
they were. Jay stepped into the hall. He barely had the door shut when Stuart Shaw
appeared out of the darkness.
“Jay?” He flicked on the overhead lights. “What are you doing here?”
“I stopped by to… I thought I"d…” Jay huffed out a breath. “I wanted to sit in
her room.”
“Emily"s?”
“Katie"s. Her bedroom.” The guilt slammed into Jay, and his stomach clenched
as if Stuart had taken a punch at him. Jay had been lusting after Lincoln and had
just kissed the man. Now he was using his wife"s memory as cover.
Stuart glanced at the office door.
Jay held up the paper and pen. “I was going to leave a note. I didn"t want you
to think someone had broken in.”
Like I had done by coming through your bathroom
window
. How was he going to explain getting inside the house?
Stuart didn"t ask. He said, “Come have a drink with me.”
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Sloan Parker
The two men walked through the house in silence. Stuart didn"t bother
switching on any other lights until they were in the kitchen. The bright glare of the
overhead light and the stark white walls blinded Jay for a moment. He helped
himself to a seat at the table, choosing a spot that would keep Stuart"s back to the
doorway. How long would Jay have to sit and shoot the shit with his father-in-law
before Lincoln had a chance to get away? He wouldn"t need to pass by the kitchen
doorway to get to the bathroom, but Lincoln didn"t know the house layout like Jay.
Hopefully he had sense to pick up the flashlight Jay had left in the office and even
more sense not to use it.
“Emily"s at a meeting,” Stuart said. “Then dinner with friends from church.”
He fished out a couple of beers from the fridge, handed one to Jay, and sat. “That
woman refuses to drive anywhere since the accident. I used to believe it was
because she didn"t want to get hurt.” He took a long swallow of his beer, his huge
hand engulfing the bottle. If it hadn"t been for the beer in Jay"s hand, he would"ve
assumed Stuart held one of those miniature bottles of liquor from a hotel minibar.
Stuart stared at the neck of his beer bottle. “But the more I think about it, I"ve
come to understand why.” He laughed and set the bottle on the table. “Almost thirty
years together, and I"m still learning about my wife.”