Just the Facts, Volume 1

by Edward Kendrick

  Hunter removed his belt and slid off his shorts, leaving the golf polo on. He wanted to do the same for Dimas who had curled into him, his cotton socks rubbing against Hunter’s legs.

  It had been a busy morning since the deputy’s phone call.

  After the first patrol car arrived, and checked the scene, then confirmed no fingerprints could be found on the kitchen door, a second patrol car dropped of Hunter’s things. By then, Dimas had called a locksmith and new deadbolts had been installed for both the front and kitchen doors after the scene was cleared.

  Hunter nuzzled his face into Dimas’ neck as thunder rolled in the distance. Dimas’ snoring stopped and Dimas exhaled. Hunter kissed Dimas’ Adam’s apple, and then caressed Dimas chest and arms.

  Dimas, still with eyes closed, kissed Hunter. “God, I’m so tired.” He yawned. “It’s probably from waking up so early.

  “Thank you.” Hunter whispered as he placed his hand on Dimas chest.

  “For what?”

  “For being here. For everything. I don’t know where I’d be if It weren’t for you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I would do anything for you, you know that, right?”

  “I do,” Hunter said. “But I wanted to thank you.”

  Dimas kissed Hunter, pressing his soft lips against his, and drew him closer. When Dimas caressed Hunter’s face he melted. “I can’t wait to take you to Peru and meet my family.”

  “I can’t wait either.”

  “So you forgive me for outing you? I know that was your prerogative.”

  “No, I’m good.” Hunter stared into Dimas’ doe-brown eyes. “When the police were here earlier, and they kept asking about what happened when we got here, and you just casually said you were with me because you were my boyfriend, I was happy. I didn’t have to make up a reason. Didn’t have to worry about the officer’s perception. When the deputy was interviewing me in the hotel, I kept evading his questions. He probably suspected I knew something that I was hiding about Carl, but I wasn’t.”

  “Yeah, I get it.” Dimas kissed Hunter’s forehead. “You should tell the deputy that you were with me all night, so he gets the complete story.”

  The house phone rang, and Hunter picked up. “Hello?” The line was silent. “Hello?” Hunter waited a second, then he heard a click. “Weird.”

  “Telemarketer?”

  “No, nothing on the line.” Hunter hung up the phone, and then picked up the handset again. He heard the steady stream of four or five tones. “There are messages on the phone.”

  “I still can’t believe you have a land line.”

  “Carl was old school. He has a hard time throwing away old things. The sewing machine and the fabric? Couldn’t bear to throw it away. I’m surprised he gave away or donated my mom’s clothes.”

  Hunter punched in a code on the landline, and then put the phone on speaker. The messages replayed. Several of them were from the contractor, asking about payment. The last contractor message threatened to stop work if they didn’t get another check. There was a message from Lenny about a land sale, and then some automated telemarketing messages. The last three messages were hang-ups.

  “What land sale is Lenny talking about?” Dimas asked.

  “I have no idea. He wouldn’t have the money to buy it.”

  “Well, he placed second in TPC, so he’s getting some money.” Dimas hugged Hunter. “You probably should hire a lawyer to go through this mess that Carl left behind. I’ll call my lawyer and see if he knows anyone who does that type of work. Real estate, whatever.”

  “Okay,” Hunter said. Dimas’ phone on the nightstand buzzed.

  Dimas scanned his text. “It’s my agent. He wants me to confirm a magazine shoot, but that can wait until after the memorial.” Dimas kissed Hunter again, and they lay in each other’s arms for a while. Hunter started drifting back to another nap when Dimas nudged him.

  “I think there’s someone downstairs. Maybe outside. I hear something.”

  “All I hear is the rain.”

  Dimas untangled himself from Hunter and got up from the bed. He walked out of the bedroom and opened the door.

  “Hear anything?” Hunter asked.

  “I’m going down to investigate. It’s probably nothing. Just wait here. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Hunter said, still unsure if he should join Dimas or continue to lie in bed.

  * * * *

  Dimas tiptoed downstairs. He caught a shadow on a porch and crouched down. He searched for something to protect himself.

  ¡Joder!

  There was nothing he could grab. The shadow moved away from the front door and toward the corner of the house. Dimas followed the movement, and whoever it was stopped. Dimas backed up, making sure not to take his eyes off the perpetrator. He bumped into the kitchen wall, and his hand searched for the knife he laid down earlier, before they had napped.

  Once his hand found it, he gripped the handle tight. He wished he had something more substantial than a Cutco steak knife in his hands. The shadow was at a window, and was trying to push it up and open.

  This was probably the noise I heard earlier.

  He worried about Hunter. Surely he remained put. For his safety. Dimas silently counted all the windows he had seen earlier. The locksmith had changed the two door locks, replacing them with heavy deadbolts, and reinforced the one door in the kitchen. No one had bothered to check the windows, if they needed extra security.

  The interloper moved to the next window.

  Dimas couldn’t believe that whoever was attempting to burgle them would do so while they were inside.

  Fuck! He cussed this time in English. The phone call earlier. Maybe whomever it was trying to find out if anyone had remained in the house.

  Dimas moved towards the front door and turned on the lights to the porch. Instantly, they came on and for a second Dimas fretted that the act only spurred the criminal outside. But his worry was misplaced. The quick steps of the shadow running away prompted him to fling the front door open and go after the person. He caught glimpses of a pale bare leg going around the corner, wearing a floral dress.

  Instinctively, while running, he shouted, “Ida!” He didn’t know it was Ida, but it only made sense. But “Ida” pulled away, not bothered by the steady, cold rain, running faster than Dimas did, shocking the shit out of him. Dimas, after all, had run track in his high school in Lima.

  Ida ran toward a field behind the row of houses and headed for the pine trees. Ida’s hair bounced with each step, but almost as if they were one, not bothered by drops of water. The movement wasn’t natural.

  Dimas had barely cleared the field when Ida disappeared into the trees. He stopped and bent forward, putting his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. He glanced back to the house; he couldn’t see it. He must have run five city blocks or more to even get to the field. He had a choice to go back to the house, or to go into trees. His brain told him to go back. To be with Hunter.

  But his anger, his anger chose a more illogical route. He straightened up and headed into the pine trees.

  * * * *

  Hunter stood up straight in bed and rushed to put his shorts back on when Dimas had yelled, “Ida.” Hunter ran to the window, picking up the end of the venetian blind to peer out. All he saw was grayness, rain, and Dimas running, in long pants. He couldn’t make out who or what he was chasing.

  Hunter worried what would happen if he actually caught Ida, so he ran downstairs, grabbed an umbrella, making sure to lock the door right behind as quickly as he could. Once he got outside, he walked, he wasn’t sure what direction Dimas had been headed.

  “Dimas! Dimas!” Hunter yelled. He walked between two houses looking for signs of his lover. The vibrant green St. Augustine grass that each neighbor treasured and kept uniform in compliance with homeowners’ association rules revealed no footsteps, no trace of Dimas.

  Hunter walked a block and a half and then stopped. Ida and Lenny’s house stood at
the end of the cul de sac, with a field behind them that stretched almost half of a football field into pine trees in the far distance. The pine trees provided privacy between their gated community and the highway. On the other side, more expensive beach homes fronted the Atlantic.

  He doubted that Dimas ran into the house. The last time Hunter saw Dimas he was running behind the homes, including Ida and Lenny’s.

  Still, curiosity compelled Hunter to move closer to the concrete steps of the two-story plantation style home. A lamp was on, shining light on a coffee table and music played in the background. He’d been to this house many times. But not recently. He rang the doorbell and waited. And waited. He rang it again. Still no response. The rain roared behind him and he wondered where Dimas was. He rang the doorbell again. But when he was about to give up on the door opening, Ida opened the door. She was barefoot and wore a red tracksuit. Her hair was up, but unlike the other day in the lobby, her face was made up.

  “Hi, Hunter! Are you staying at the house?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I was wondering if you saw Dimas?”

  She shook her head. “No. I dozed off waiting for the clothes to dry, and just woke up when I heard the doorbell. I was fixing to make some tea. Would you like some?”

  “Sure,” Hunter said. He stepped in the open door, and toed off his wet shoes in the front.

  “You still remember?” Ida said, smiling as she did after she saw he removed his shoes.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It seems just the other day that you would come over to cut the grass. Good gosh, how long ago was that?”

  “I was thirteen and fourteen at the time. I remember every time I was finished, you would give me twenty dollars and a cold bottle of Coca-Cola to drink.”

  “Do you still drink Coke?”

  Hunter followed her to the back of the house. “Yes, but I’ve actually switched to Diet Coke.”

  Ida shuddered. “Oh, that’s nasty stuff there. You should switch to the Coca Cola imported from Mexico. No fructose, just cane sugar. More natural.”

  He passed a small sitting room, and noticed a overstuff leather chair with a blanket, a book lying face down, the pages open to a spot. The dryer was running, behind the kitchen. “I’ll have to give that a try.”

  Ida motioned Hunter to take a seat by the small table in the nook by the kitchen. She then took out a whistling teakettle and poured water into then turned on the electric stove’s countertop and placed the kettle on a burner. “It won’t take long. I like boiling my tea the old fashioned way. That kettle was my mother’s believe or not, so when I hear the whistle, and the steam coming out, I remember her making tea in the afternoon. She loved oolong tea. I’m pretty partial to Earl Grey breakfast tea myself. What kind of tea do you like?”

  Hunter shrugged. “I’m not picky.” He paused, curious about what he saw earlier in the morning. “I saw you.”

  “Excuse me?” Ida faced Hunter, her head cocked to one side in disbelief. “When?” Her brown eyes fluttered.

  “At the rough, where Carl’s body was.”

  She sighed and grabbed two teacups from the cupboard. “I was worried someone would see me, but I just had to find out about something.”

  “What?”

  “If my grandmother’s earrings were there…where Carl was.”

  Hunter’s brow furrowed. What is she admitting? “Why would they be there?”

  “If I tell you, it would be all over. And I don’t know if I can.” Ida closed her eyes and then stood still. The kettle whistled that the water was ready. She turned off the counter top and poured hot water in the teacups. “Earl Grey okay?”

  Hunter nodded. He couldn’t give up. Not now. “Why would your grandmother’s earrings be there?”

  “Well, you see, I worried that Lenny had borrowed it because it was missing.”

  “Why would Lenny borrow it?”

  “I guess this would be the time to tell you about a few things so you understand.” Ida came over, back to the table with two teacups with orange colored tea for both of them.

  “I first met Lenny at Flagler College. He was studying business, I think. I was studying boys.” She laughed at her own joke, then continued. “I had the biggest crush on Lenny. Back then he was dashing, energetic about life. One thing led to another when we met, and next thing you know, I was pregnant.” She blew air on her hot tea to cool it. “Lenny proposed, and I accepted. After all, I was in love with him at that time. Things changed after I miscarried. He focused more on work, and not this marriage. I tried to get Lenny into counseling but he refused. I thought about leaving him many, many times.”

  “I remember my mother said you and Lenny had problems.”

  “We rarely had sex after the first year of marriage. Eventually we evolved into a sexless marriage. I even tried to make him jealous, but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he encouraged me to find what I needed outside of the home. He just didn’t want to know specifically with whom, until a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hunter said, putting his teacup down. “That must have been tough.”

  “It was…for the first few years. I wondered why he couldn’t love me, why he didn’t want to be with me. We even went to counseling. I hired a divorce attorney at one time. He got really mad over that. Eventually, I just came to terms that we’re in a platonic, if you can believe it, marriage. But, everything changed when he encouraged me to be with Carl.”

  “What?” Hunter’s voice raised but then immediately lowered his voice after Ida’s frightened reaction.

  “It was several months after your mom passed…the three of us got together, and ate at that nice seafood restaurant overlooking the ocean. You know the one? Your mom’s favorite. But, I forget the name. After dinner, Lenny encouraged me to go out with Carl. I liked Carl too. I didn’t want to see Carl, in that way, and I didn’t want to make this to be a public, almost public kinda thing. After all, if people suspected I was with Carl, then that make Lenny a cuckold, as they used to say. I don’t know…do they still use that word?”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” Hunter added as he accepted more hot water and a fresh tea bag.

  “I didn’t realize until recently that this was Lenny’s opportunity to get Carl to invest some money into some of his ideas. I was basically a pawn in Lenny’s game to flip houses, and sell them with Carl involved, taking a second mortgage I found out too late.” Ida sighed. “By then, I was too much into Carl.”

  Hunter’s eyebrows arched as he swirled the tea. He had no idea where she was going with this, so he remained silent. He picked up the teacup to sip some more tea.

  “I cared very much for Carl, probably too much. He told me he thought he loved me.”

  Hunter almost spit out his tea. How could I not know this? “And, did you love him?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t say that I would have a problem leaving Lenny, but Lenny’s always been good to me. More like a big brother than a husband.”

  “I still don’t understand about you being at the rough, looking for an earring.”

  “The earring was my grandmother’s.”

  Hunter nodded. He didn’t want to say she already told him that. He didn’t want to come across as rude. This was Ida after all.

  “Around the time Lenny told me it was okay to be with Carl, if I wanted to, he was acting different. Peculiar?”

  “Peculiar?” Who says this word anymore?

  “One night I came home early, by at least an hour. I guess he didn’t hear me. I heard music in his bedroom upstairs. We’re on opposite sides of the house, so I have to pass his bedroom to get to mine, and I saw him. He was in front of a mirror, wearing one of your mom’s old dresses. He was dressed head to toe as a woman.”

  Hunter’s hand shook as he put the teacup down on a saucer. “Whoa.”

  “I confronted him. He said he’d never felt that he could be who he truly was, so he was exploring this part of him that he’d kept inside. Of course I was s
hocked. But in time, when I look back on our twenty-plus years of marriage, it all made sense. He’d been conforming to what everyone wanted him to be. I was probably a part of that too. And I felt bad.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Hunter said.

  “I think it’d been tough on him. Once he told me all of this, he would ask me help in buying clothes. I sometimes bought dresses with him in mind, so he could borrow them. He would take off for days at a time. I don’t know where. Maybe Jacksonville, but probably Orlando or Miami. He would drive dressed as a woman. I know he’d be too scared to be seen here in Ponte Vedra, or even in St. Augustine.”

  “Okay,” Hunter said, pressing through his shorts the earring he picked up earlier. The fabric of his shorts concealed its identity but at this moment it seemed like his shorts were on fire.

  “But in the last year, he changed a little. He started hanging out with Carl more. Sometimes, I felt a little jealous. But lately, Carl had been stressed. I tried to ask him what is going on. But whenever the subject of Lenny comes up, he would get upset.”

  Hunter replayed what she said in his mind. “So everything was okay until just what? A few months ago?”

  “Yes. The morning that Carl died, Lenny wasn’t home. Now he runs a lot, but he usually does it at sunrise. But when I woke up that early morning, I didn’t see him. I hadn’t even put on makeup. I had no idea what was going on. I went to the hotel. That’s when I ran into you.”

  “I went back to our room that morning. Carl had someone with him, after the tournament. Was it—”?

  “Yes. I did stay with him a little while. But he was drunk pretty early and he fell asleep the evening after the tournament, so I left. I had to take the stairs. There were a lot of journalists in the lobby when I met up with Carl, and I didn’t want to run into any of them.”

  “Well, that explains the wine glasses with lipstick. But the spoon next to the nightstand?”

  “Carl’s…I think he started using after one of the Vegas trips with Lenny.”

  “How did I not know this?” Hunter asked.