The Intersection of Purgatory and Paradise (6 page)

“Look, I don’t want to be an asshole about this. You brought him out here, and he did apologize. I’m willing to let it go. I don’t know what the sheriff will want to do with it. That part’s out of my hands.”

Marshall nodded. “I appreciate that. I guess I should go find where he’s run off to.”

M
OST
OF
the drive passed quickly, with Doug guiding them down old Highway 93. The road wound through forests, mountains, and canyons, all the way to Idaho Falls. The scenery was amazing, but Christopher hardly noticed. No matter how beautiful or novel the trees and mountains were, all he saw was Peter’s face no matter where he looked. Except when he looked at Doug.

When he woke up at five that morning, he’d been determined to leave. To go home, to get his life back, and to find a way to put Doug behind him. When Doug had smiled at him and offered to tag along, Christopher let himself hope Doug actually meant to come with him to stay forever. He’d been deluding himself, but with Doug’s arms around him, he wanted to believe it so badly it hurt.

As the canyons and miles stretched out behind them, putting more distance between him and the valley where his brother had destroyed so many lives, Christopher felt like he could breathe for
the first time in a year. Doug, probably taking his cues from
Christopher, began to relax and joke around a little.

They stopped for gas and food in Idaho Falls, eating fries on a park bench carved in the shape of a giant fish. In front of them, the river tumbled over the small dam that produced the city’s namesake waterfall. A year ago, they’d sat on a park bench in Missoula, Montana, and shared a spicy red-lentil curry. A year ago, he’d been desperate to figure out a way to hang on to the man beside him, even if only for a weekend.

As they ate, Christopher felt Doug’s knee settle against his, as if by accident. He felt a spark of that same excitement, that same draw that had pulled him toward Doug like he was magnetic. Even after a year, he still couldn’t get enough.

They watched the waterfall until the sun dropped below the horizon and the temperature followed it. “We can’t just get a room here tonight, huh?”

“No time,” Christopher said, regretting it. “I don’t actually know what time the wedding is on Sunday, so we have to get there tomorrow.”

“Do you want to drive straight through? We can take shifts.”

“Yeah. I’m fine for now, but we should keep moving.”

Christopher shifted to stand up, but Doug didn’t move.

“Uh….” Doug sheepishly produced something from beside him. “I know you’re not really in any kind of mood to be happy right now, but….” He shoved a small cupcake at him: chocolate, topped with caramel frosting and a bite-sized Snickers bar.

“How did you manage this?” Christopher asked, smiling in spite of himself.

“I bought it the last time we stopped for gas. I know today is not your favorite day of the year, but there hasn’t been a single day since I met you when I haven’t been grateful you came into my life.”

Christopher pulled the wrapper off the chocolate cupcake. “Want to split it?”

Doug’s gaze stayed locked on the waterfall, but his nervous smile turned into an intoxicating smirk. “Nope. I wanted to paint the frosting all over you and then lick it off, but we don’t have time.”

He groaned and shifted his cock, trying to keep his hard-on from becoming obvious. “I suppose we have to stop and sleep at some point.”

“My plans are totally flexible,” Doug said. “I’m fine waiting until we have the luxury of a bed and shower.”

“If frosting is involved, a shower might be a good idea.”

Doug ran his fingers along the outside of Christopher’s thigh. “You eat the cupcake. I’m sure we’ll find some place to stop between here and California, and every grocery store has frosting.”

They drove down through Salt Lake City, passing through most of Utah in a blur of darkness at eighty miles an hour. In southern Utah, they got a room and collapsed onto the bed. Doug crawled on top of him without even bothering to take off his shoes.

“Too tired,” Christopher whispered.

“Shhh. You don’t have to do anything,” Doug said, undoing Christopher’s belt and pants with well-practiced fingers. “Just rest and enjoy it.”

As Doug took his cock deep into his throat, Christopher gasped and felt his exhausted brain snap back into consciousness. Doug sucked him deep and hard, tugging at his balls just the way he liked. Christopher came in Doug’s mouth in a matter of minutes, his entire body quivering as Doug licked him clean.

When Doug collapsed beside him, Christopher turned into him, using his arm as a pillow. “You didn’t get any frosting….”

Doug hummed and wrapped his arms around Christopher. “I like the way you taste.”

They were on the road again before seven. Doug took a minute to get coffee from the motel lobby and climbed behind the wheel. Christopher got a few fitful hours of sleep in the car, but the morning sun kick-started his brain. Soon his thoughts were spinning too fast to let him stay unconscious.

“We should take a few days to make this drive on the way back,” Doug said. “There are some amazing national parks in this part of the country. We could start at the Grand Canyon and work our way back up.”

Christopher’s chest tightened at the thought of driving north again, but he kept quiet.

T
HE
LAST
time Christopher had found himself standing in his captain’s office was when he’d found out his brother was dead. It was amazing how the memories kept popping up, even in the San Diego PD at the Central Homicide Unit.

This time, though, he was just saying hello.

They’d gotten into town at three o’clock and headed straight for the downtown police department because he knew that was where his partner would be. He almost felt like himself again, surrounded by officers he’d known and worked with for years. And since his partner was getting his ass handed to him by their captain, it felt like old times.

“Eight rounds,” Captain Jenkins growled.

“No one was expecting anything to happen,” Ray said. “I was staring at my phone when the shooting started. It was such a shock, the bailiffs ended up tripping over each other when they moved in to take the suspect down.”

“He was six feet from you. He managed to fire eight rounds. You never drew your weapon,” Captain Jenkins said, his voice stoic and calm.

“My sidearm was still in a locker in the courthouse,” Ray explained, squirming a little.

Jenkins stared at him. “You expect me to believe you left the courthouse without getting your service weapon out of the locker? The man who doesn’t take a piss without being armed?”

“He’s old!” Ray cried. “How was I supposed to know an old man could move that fast? Like I said, even the bailiffs were shocked.”

Jenkins sighed and stared harder.

“Believe me, this is not the outcome I wanted for this case. That fucker deserved to rot in prison for the next twenty years. But it’s not like I can bring him back.”

Jenkins somehow ratcheted up the intensity of his stare.

“Are we done? Because I’ve had my subject sitting in Interview 3 for like four hours now.”

“We’re done. I expect an objective report on this one,” Jenkins warned him. “The old man’s charges are up to the prosecutor, but you’ll present nothing but the facts in your report. Is that clear?”

“My remand reports always contain nothing but the facts. I’m professional like that.”

“Good,” Jenkins said, scribbling on a legal pad in front of him. “In the meantime, Hayes is welcome to hang out as your official babysitter.”

Ray huffed beside him.

It was hard to keep a straight face with Ray pouting. “I could never get him to behave himself before I left. What makes you think I can manage it now?”

“Thanks to you, I didn’t have to hear about half of it back then,” Jenkins said without looking at them. “Maybe you can get him to leave those twerps from the Second Precinct alone before they try to kill him.”

“Sounds like fun,” Christopher said, trying to discreetly stretch some of the kinks from his back.

“It’s not like they don’t deserve it,” Ray muttered.

Jenkins stared at the legal pad in front of him, scribbling quickly.

“See?” Ray pointed to Jenkins, who was obviously ignoring him. “If I was wrong, he’d say so.”

Christopher headed for the office door and hesitated for a moment. Doug was sitting in the frayed chair at Ray’s desk, his eyes bloodshot and half-closed.

“You made him drive all night, huh?” Ray asked.

“I drove all night. He drove all day.”

“Uh-huh. Hey, Doug!” Ray hurried over and slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s awesome you could come down for this! Unfortunately, work kind of exploded yesterday, so I’ve got to finish up an interview before I’m done tonight. And I’ve got to run to Starbucks before I do that. Can I get you something?”

“Coffee would be great,” Doug said quietly. “Black is fine.”

“You sure? I’m in a macchiato mood, and it’s my treat. Soy, though, right?”

Doug’s eyes narrowed a little, and he shifted nervously in the chair. “Yeah, sure. But if you’ve got to do an interview, we can run and get coffee.”

“No, I need it before I take this guy’s statement. I’ve got too much evidence not to send him up on premeditated homicide, but the least I can do is get him some decent coffee. And a brownie. And maybe a thank-you card.”

“What the hell happened, anyway?” Christopher asked. He’d knocked on the door in the middle of Ray’s lecture. “This isn’t the same case as the kid, is it?”

“The case has evolved a little. The bail hearing was yesterday. I told you they have a little girl, right? She’s been staying with her grandparents. Anyway, the father’s got a lot of money and had a vicious bunch of lawyers at the hearing. Bail got set at ten grand. The grandparents cried about it a little, but that seemed like the end of it.”

“Only until the trial.”

Ray grinned. “There’s not going to be a trial. On the steps outside the courthouse, the grandfather kissed his wife good-bye, pulled out a gun, and unloaded eight rounds into his son-in-law. Then he surrendered, peaceful as anything.”

“He had time to fire an entire magazine? Without you taking him down?” Doug asked.

“That’s what Captain Jenkins was curious about,” Christopher added.

Ray’s smile took on a distinctly innocent gleam. “He was speedy for an old guy. And I was skimming through the forensics report from the scene on my phone.” Delgado’s grin twisted into a grimace. “Everybody was so surprised, we all ended up tripping over each other trying to take him down.”

“Tripping over each other?”

Christopher studied Ray’s face carefully. If he didn’t know his partner so well, he’d wonder just how much Ray had done to slow the bailiffs down. But Ray was obsessive about playing by the rules.

“Mostly, they tripped over me,” Ray admitted. “Now I get to try and live down a reputation for standing there oblivious to the fact I’m in the line of fire because I’m playing Angry Birds. And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. I wish that old man had been willing to wait for me to do my job, but…. A brownie is the least I can do. You coming?”

Christopher yawned. “I think I’m too tired to move.”

Ray eyed him with concern. “Right. You’re ready to fall over. Sit down and hang out with your cowboy, I’ll get you some coffee too.”

Christopher perched on the edge of Ray’s desk, wary of the very real possibility it had been rigged to fall apart. Nothing happened, though. “Big coffee?”

“That cute little girl at the coffee cart down the block hasn’t gotten to give me one of those funny ‘are you sure you want a quadruple espresso?’ looks since you left. I’m on it!”

Christopher focused his attention on Doug once Ray strolled away. Doug stroked the back of his calf, smirking.

“What?”

“Just doesn’t seem like a guy who’s planning on getting married tomorrow. Are you sure he wasn’t making shit up to get you to come down and visit?”

Christopher shrugged. “Would it be the end of the world if he was?”

“Nope. We could go to the beach tomorrow, if there’s no wedding.”

“We can go to the beach Monday, either way,” Christopher reminded him.

“Oh, but you can’t go in the water with those stitches,” Doug said, pouting.

“It’s been long enough, hasn’t it?” Christopher asked, reaching toward the back of his head. “They’re supposed to come out after five to seven days. And Monday will be six days.”

“Minor injuries on the head or face usually heal fast enough for the stitches to come out at five days,” Doug said, nodding. “That doesn’t mean you’re totally healed, though.”

“Superglue!” Christopher announced, grinning. “I’ve raced with some triathletes who have to swim with stitches or right after they get them removed, and they used superglue. I’ll find a walk-in clinic Monday, get the stitches taken out, and see what they say, okay?”

“All right. But if the doctor says no swimming, we can find something else to do. Maybe something at your place?”