by Rob Byrnes
“Sure!”
Grant wanted to say something about how inappropriate it was for Jared to lust after his boyfriend right in front of him, but let it go. There’d be time for that later.
“Okay, then, listen closely. It’s time to put you to work…”
“Oh, I’ve been working. Three blow jobs already. These ex-gays are sex-crazed!”
“That’s far too much information.” He backed Jared deeper into the room. “I need you to get something from Merribaugh, and I’m not too particular how you do it, if you know what I mean.”
Jared mulled over Grant’s words. “You want me to sleep with him?”
“I don’t care. Whatever works. From what I’ve heard, I figure you stand a chance with him.”
Jared didn’t think much of that idea. “But Merribaugh wears polyester suits!”
“Merribaugh might be wheeling around a suitcase with seven million dollars inside.”
Jared’s distaste vanished. “Now that I think about it, he’s sort of hot. In a ‘daddy’ kind of way.”
Grant shook those words out of his head. “Just find out where the suitcase is. However you do it is fine with me, as long as we get the money.”
Jared was confused again. “I thought the money was in the safe.”
“So did we. But it wasn’t.” He tried to be patient but failed. “Which is why I’m here telling you to find the suitcase.”
“And steal it?”
“No. I don’t wanna put you in a dangerous spot.” He also didn’t want Jared to screw it up. “When you find it, text me the location and I’ll take it from there. I’ve already programmed my number into your phone.”
“Okay,” said Jared, but then he stopped. “How did you program your number into my phone? You don’t know the password.”
“The password,” said Grant, “was JARED. It really wasn’t that difficult to figure out.”
$ $ $
Off the lobby was a registration table for Beyond Sin, making it logically the first place Jared went to look for Merribaugh. He was surprised that he wasn’t there.
A former lesbian who was overcompensating with Sephora said, “I think he went up to Dr. Hurley’s suite, but he should be back soon.”
Jared sat down to wait, and he was still waiting an hour later. He spent his time checking out the ex-gays as they tentatively made their way to the registration table and wasn’t particularly impressed. Although it was nice to know he’d be the prettiest one.
Mr. Lombardo, with his swagger, seemed to be the only person who wasn’t fazed as he approached the table. Sephora Girl greeted him warmly.
“There’s our poster boy!” said Merribaugh, approaching from the lobby, and Jared started to rise until he realized he was talking to Lombardo. The men embraced.
“Ahem,” said Jared.
“Ah! Jerry!” He turned to Lombardo. “Louis Lombardo, I’d like you to meet Jerry Stanley. Jerry, Louis.”
“I’m the poster boy,” said Jared, finally standing to shake hands.
“Yes,” said Merribaugh. “And Louis was last year’s poster boy. This year he’s going to conduct a workshop on redirecting deviant energy into positive results.”
“That’s right,” said Lombardo. “The time and effort homosexuals waste on finding and having sex is time and effort that can be better used to improve oneself.”
“Depends on how you’re finding and having sex,” said Jared.
“Huh?”
“Uh…Just joking. Anyway…” He took Merribaugh’s elbow and gave Louis Lombardo a dismissive sneer. “Is there somewhere we can speak in private?”
Merribaugh was concerned. “Is there a problem?”
“Sort of.”
“Well…” He looked past the registration desk, where a large ballroom was mostly empty. “Let’s go over there and…”
“No,” said Jared. “Someone might see us talk.”
“Well, uh…”
“How about my room?”
“Your…” Merribaugh gulped. “Hotel room?”
Jared smiled. “I need to be in my comfort zone.”
$ $ $
Mary Beth’s first reaction to Grant’s plan was not favorable.
“Your wife? I have to pretend to like you?”
“Of course not,” he said. “Keep hating me, and we’ll be just like every other heterosexual married couple.”
They were leaning against the car, which Farraday had finally managed to park around the corner from the hotel. He figured for the ride home he’d grab something from the line of cars waiting for the valet, which would be much more convenient.
Grant continued. “It helps that Jared’s on the inside, but that’s not enough. We need to be in there, too. Especially because, well, we’re talkin’ Jared.”
That part she understood. The rest, though…
“Don’t get me wrong, Lambert, but I’d just as soon not share a hotel room with you.”
“You think I’m crazy about the idea? But if we check in together as husband and wife, it’ll look natural. And, unlike me, you can be charming. When you want to. Charm isn’t one of my strong points.”
“That’s true,” said Farraday.
“Shuddup.”
Mary Beth said, “And how do we explain not having any luggage?”
Grant nodded to a pile of trash set out at curbside across the street. “There’s a suitcase.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
He waited for traffic to clear and crossed. Reluctantly, she followed, more out of curiosity than anything else.
The suitcase was definitely trash-worthy, covered with scuffs, dents, and dirt. But the zipper worked, which was all Grant cared about.
“Here,” said holding out the handle to her.
“I’m not touching that.”
Grant shook his head and muttered, “Gotta do everything myself,” then grabbed the handle with one hand and opened the suitcase with the other. It was empty, which was good, because he’d imagined the worst.
He scanned the trash pile until his eyes settled on some bundled magazines. He set down the suitcase to unbundle them.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Making an empty suitcase not empty.”
Mary Beth looked over his shoulder as he started filling the suitcase with magazines. “Wait! I haven’t read that issue of Vogue!”
$ $ $
When they reached Jared’s room, the young man got straight to the point. “I don’t feel special.”
Merribaugh hadn’t known what to expect, but this would have been last on his list. “But you are special, Jerry. You’re a special creature of God.”
“That’s not what I mean. I mean, no one is making a fuss over me. I’m stuck in this hotel room and I’m bored.”
“You’ll make friends. You’ll find things to do. Maybe if you went to the gym…”
“I’ve been to the gym.” Which was at least the truth. “That didn’t do it. I thought I was going to be treated special, and that’s not happening.” Merribaugh started to say something, but Jared stopped him. “And now I discover there’s another ex-gay poster boy in the house. That’s like adding injury to insult.”
“You mean insult to…Never mind. Louis Lombardo was last year’s attraction. That has nothing to do with you.”
Jared slumped face-down on the bed and sobbed. “I’m having self-esteem issues.”
Which would have been the second-last thing on Merribaugh’s list. He leaned forward and gently stroked the boy’s hair. “Jerry, you’ll be fine.”
Still face-down, Jared’s muffled voice said, “I think I know the problem.”
“What? Tell me.”
“My clothes are gay.”
“Your clothes are…what?”
Jared rolled over. “All the clothes I brought with me—everything I own—are things I bought when I was gay. And I bought them because they reinforced my, uh, gayness. I need non-gay clothes.” Jared thought about
that. “Pretty non-gay clothes.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, if I’m going to be the star attraction at Project Erection…”
“Project Rectitude.”
“That’s what I said,” Jared said with a nod. “Anyway, if I’m going to be the star, I need to stand out, right?”
“Well, uh…”
“I need…” Jared stopped. “How much cash do you have on you?”
“Why do you ask?” Merribaugh had been taken by hustlers at similar conferences before, with their innocent faces and treacherous hearts, and he wasn’t about to let it happen again. One even had to be careful around someone as seemingly, well, dumb as Jerry Stanley. Appearances could be very deceiving.
“Because the cute shirt I saw at Brooks Brothers costs two-forty, and I don’t have that kind of cash on me.”
“That’s a lot for a shirt.”
“I know!” shrieked Jared, in part because he couldn’t imagine himself wearing Brooks Brothers. “But it is so cute! And so non-gay! I mean, it’s Brooks Brothers! That’s about as non-gay as you can get.”
“Well…”
“No, you don’t understand. I need it.” Jared fixed his jaw. He was not unfamiliar with playing the spoiled brat. “If I don’t get that shirt from Brooks Brothers, I don’t go on. And then you’ll have to recycle that tired old queen Louis Lombardo if you want a poster boy.”
Merribaugh looked the young man over. “What’s wrong with the shirt you’re wearing now?”
“It’s gay.”
“I think it looks quite nice,” said Merribaugh, and Jared found the opening he’d been waiting for.
“In that case,” he said, as the buttons were unbuttoned, “you wear it.”
And then Jared’s shirt was off and he stood in front of Merribaugh, naked from the waist up. The older man’s eyes traveled up and down the slender torso.
“Oh, dear,” Merribaugh mumbled and finally forced himself to look away. “Is it hot in here, or…”
Jared’s voice was soft. “Oh, yeah…it’s hot. It’s soooo hot…”
Merribaugh took off his sport coat and dropped it on the bed. This was all too sudden. He hadn’t had time to prepare himself.
But Jerry Stanley’s moods seem to change faster than the temperature in the room, because he crossed his thin arms in front of him and began pouting again.
“I really want that shirt, Mr. Merribaugh.”
And Merribaugh surrendered. If Jerry thought he needed that shirt, maybe he needed that shirt.
“Very well,” he said. “I’ll run over to Brooks Brothers.”
He excused himself to use the bathroom, which made Jared’s life much easier because he hadn’t been able to think of a way to separate the preacher from his sport coat, short of asking to try it on. And while he would have done that, it would have been icky.
When the bathroom door was closed—but not, Jared noted, locked—he removed Merribaugh’s wallet from the sport coat and shoved it deep between the mattress and box spring. He perched on top of it and practiced his smiles in the mirror until he finally heard a flush, followed by water running in the sink. And then Merribaugh was back.
“Okay, Brooks Brothers.” He grabbed the sport coat and began putting it on.
Jared nodded. “Just down the street from the hotel.”
Merribaugh patted his breast pocket and concern showed on his face. “Where’s my wallet?”
Jared sat on the bed and shrugged his naked shoulders. “No clue.”
“I could have sworn I had it when I came in.”
“I don’t remember seeing it.” He picked up a pillow from the bed and looked underneath. “Not there.”
Merribaugh dropped to his hands and knees and looked under the bed. “This is very strange.”
“Maybe you left it in your room.”
“I suppose that’s possible.” Merribaugh sounded thoroughly unconvinced that he could have done something that irresponsible.
They searched the room for a few more minutes without finding the wallet, which was not surprising since it was under the mattress…and Jared, sitting on top of the bed, was not about to move.
Finally, the older man raised his hands. “I must have forgotten it in my room. There’s really no other explanation.”
Jared offered Merribaugh his most open, wide-eyed, innocent expression, the one that always seemed to work when he wanted to look particularly angelic. “Nope. None at all.”
Merribaugh struggled to his feet. “Well, I’ll just pick up a new key from the front desk and check my room. It was probably right in front of me when I left.”
Jared opened his eyes just a bit wider. He could only imagine how innocent and angelic he looked. “It happens to me all the time. But while you’re gone I’ll keep looking. Just in case.”
“Good, good.” Merribaugh was almost out the door when Jared called him back.
“Don’t you want to know my size?”
“Your size?”
“For the shirt.”
“Ah, oh…” Merribaugh looked perplexed. “I thought it would be best to find my wallet now, and do the shopping later.”
A pout appeared on Jared’s face. “But what if they sell out? I’d…I’d have nothing to wear. Nothing except these homo clothes that remind me of the old days when I was gay. And promiscuous. Like yesterday.” He forced a single tear to one eye. It wasn’t his best performance, but he was sure it would work. “And then I couldn’t go to the conference. Because I’d still be gay.”
Merribaugh watched the tear roll slowly down the young man’s cheek, and knew he would do whatever it took to make Jerry Stanley happy. After all, he could always expense the cost of the shirt.
“I suppose I can get the shirt first, and find my wallet later.”
His words brought Jared’s smile back. “Oh, thank you! I promise to be the best ex-gay ever!”
Jared wrote down his size, as well as a description of the imaginary shirt, and Merribaugh left. Thirty seconds later he peeked out the door and watched the elevator doors close, and then dashed down the hall to Dan Rowell’s room.
“What’s going on?” Dan asked, when he answered the knock.
“I can’t really explain, so you’ll just have to trust me for now. I need you to follow Reverend Merribaugh.”
Dan furrowed his brow. “Follow him where?”
“Brooks Brothers.”
Dan stood in the doorway, carefully weighing the request and hoping for details. When none were forthcoming, he narrowed his eyes. “I get no explanation?”
Jared shrugged, as if telling a virtual stranger to tail someone to Brooks Brothers was an everyday occurrence. “Sorry. I’ll tell you everything later, but he’s already on the way to the store, so you have to get moving.”
“I don’t know…” He paused as a thought came to him. “Does this have anything to do with that visit from your father?”
“My father? Why would…? I mean, yes! Yes, it does.”
“Is Merribaugh on his way to meet him?”
Jared’s face registered Thoughtful Expression Number Two. It wasn’t perfected, but he seldom had the need to appear thoughtful.
“That’s what I want you to find out.”
Less than a minute later, Dan was fully dressed and in the hall. “This is really crazy, Jared—”
For a moment, Jared—jumpy as he was—was on his game. “Please call me Jerry!”
“And that’s another thing I don’t understand. How come you go by Jared with me, but,” Jared began pushing him toward the elevator, “Jerry with everyone else?”
“I’ll tell you later!” As he rushed Dan down the hall, he added, “Oh, and text me when Merribaugh’s on his way back to the hotel. That’s very important.”
Dan stopped. “You know I can’t do that, Jared.”
“Jerry.”
“Jerry. You know we’re not allowed to have cell phones, so how am I supposed to text you?”
Jared’s ha
nd found a bulge in Dan’s pocket that was not happy to see him. “On your iPhone, of course.”
“How did you know…?”
“I can spot an iPhone bulge from twenty yards. That’s how. And,” he added, once again pulling Dan toward the elevator, “I have a phone, too. So I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine. Now get on the elevator. He’s got, like, five minutes on you!”
“Fair enough.” Dan was no less confused than he’d been when Jared had first pounded on his door. More, really. He was every bit as curious as Jared to find out what this conference was all about, but for Dan, that might have included smuggling in a cell phone but didn’t include tailing the Rev. Dennis Merribaugh. “Number?”
As they waited for the elevator, he programmed Jared’s number into his phone—entered only as “J”—and then the elevator doors opened. Jared gave him a shove, Dan stumbled inside, and the doors closed.
Back in his room twenty-four seconds later, Jared liberated Merribaugh’s wallet from under the mattress. The American Express card was tempting, but too dangerous. Maybe later. There was another plastic card tucked behind the AmEx bearing the name of the hotel. He left that, too.
He grabbed the keycard and set off for Merribaugh’s hotel room, congratulating himself on a cleverly executed plan.
$ $ $
When the doorbell rang at 455 Old Stone Fence Post Road, Chase told Lisa, “I’ll get it.” Then he glanced out the kitchen window and changed his mind.
“It’s the FBI.”
Lisa had been agitated. It wasn’t that she was worried; the rest of the gang could all take care of themselves. It was that she felt cut out of the action. At least this would be something.
“Then I’ll get it,” she said, and had the front door open before he could object.
The attractive man on the porch smiled, dimpling his cheek, and said, “Mrs. LaMarca?”
She smiled back, although without dimples. “No, Mrs. Hudson. Can I help you?”
He showed her his badge. “Special Agent Patrick Waverly, Federal Bureau of Investigation. May I come in?”
In the kitchen, he opened a manila folder. Constance’s defiant face looked back at her.
“Do you know this woman, Mrs. Hudson?”
