Everyone Has Secrets

by Edward Kendrick

  “Really?” Lorne seemed intrigued by that idea. “So…perhaps…Rob is a special member? It would explain why I haven’t found him down here.”

  “For sure, although if Kyler was telling the truth about dancing…”

  “I know.” He sighed, then brightened up. “Maybe they did, but at Kyler’s apartment—and I misunderstood?”

  “Very possible. Now, another question. Why do you want to find Rob?”

  “Because he might know who pushed Kyler off the balcony.” He gave me a ‘why do you think’ look.

  “If it wasn’t him,” I replied.

  “Yeah, I considered that. Either way, I need to locate him.”

  I stretched, nodded, and took a deep drink of my scotch, all the while debating if I wanted to get involved any more than I was already. Lorne was a nice young man, emphasis on young, at least from my point of view. If he was right, his brother may have been murdered. Or he might actually have committed suicide. Perhaps, I speculated, because he was in love with Rob, or whoever he is, and the man made it clear at some point he wasn’t available except as a fuck buddy. If I wasn’t jumping to conclusions, and Rob was a special member, there’s a strong chance he was either married, or worked a job where being gay and letting anyone know would get him fired, or worse.

  “Now you know the reason I’ve been hanging around here,” Lorne said, breaking into my thoughts.

  “Tell you what. I’ll do some checking around to see if anyone knows Rob, or knew Kyler. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “You’d do that?” Lorne’s face lit up.

  “Sure. Why not? This whole ‘did he or didn’t he’ is intriguing. It might turn out he jumped, or did something stupid and accidently fell. But, if he was murdered…”

  “Yeah. I honestly think he was. However, that could be because I don’t want to admit that he killed himself. At least without talking to me first about what was going on that finally drove him to it, if that makes sense.”

  “Very much so. It’s a form of survivor’s guilt, from what I understand. The ‘if I’d been there, if I’d listened or made him talk’.”

  “That’s the thing. The last time I did talk to him—which was the day before he died—he was going on about how he and Rob were taking off together on a vacation. He was happy, damn it!”

  “You told that to the police?”

  “You bet I did. Their answer was that Kyler was trying not to worry me about…something. About whatever pushed him to jump off his balcony.” He smacked his hand on the table angrily. “I don’t believe that!”

  “Easy.” I grabbed his hand when it looked like he was going to hit the table again. “The management doesn’t approve of people breaking the furniture.”

  Lorne smiled weakly. “Sorry. It just pisses me off that no one will listen to me. Not even my folks.” He sighed. “At least they think it was an accident. Although how he could have accidently fallen over a four foot railing…”

  “Not easily,” I replied. “Were there hanging plants he might have been reaching for?”

  “No. Nothing like that.”

  “He was sober?”

  “Uh-huh. Like me, he wasn’t a drinker. An occasional beer was his limit.”

  “So we can rule that out as a cause for what happened.” I drummed my fingers on the table, chuckling when Lorne put his hand over mine to stop me. “I know. That can be nerve-wracking.” After finishing the last of my drink, I said, “There’s not much we can do until I find out who Rob really is. That could give us at least a clue about why he, or someone, might have wanted Kyler dead.”

  “Is that your way of saying it’s time for you to leave?”

  “I’m afraid so.” I really did want to get out of there and do some research, for a couple of reasons. First, to help Lorne, because I was beginning to believe he was right. Kyler didn’t jump to his death. He was pushed. Secondly, Rob Roberts, if I’m right, had something to hide and that could make him prime blackmail material—especially if he was in any way responsible for Kyler’s death. He might not be the killer, but someone he knew could be.

  “All right. Thank you for listening to me, and wanting to help,” Lorne said.

  “Hey. It gives me something interesting to do when I’m not checking out good investments for my clients or helping them plan for retirement.”

  When we got up, Lorne hesitated, looking toward the back room. Then he shook his head. “There’s really no sense in my sitting in there, looking for someone I probably wouldn’t recognize if I did see him.”

  “Finally figured that out, huh? Go home, read a good book or whatever, and I’ll call when I have any info for you. Speaking of which, what’s your number?”

  He gave it to me as we walked to the cloakroom to retrieve our coats. After that, it was only a matter of saying goodnight before we went our separate ways.

  As soon as I got home, I set to work learning more about Rob Roberts. I had no more trouble finding out who he was than I’d had when I’d linked Cass Cassidy to Saunders. He turned out to be one Gavin Wilmer. I’d never heard of him, so I started digging.

  I found out that Wilmer wasn’t married or even engaged. He worked for Q&A Global, an engineering consulting and design firm with facilities worldwide. That being the case, maybe he had planned on taking Kyler with him somewhere—on what Kyler told Lorne would be a vacation.

  The question was, why would Wilmer want to be a special member of the club? From what I’d learned, his company celebrated diversity so I couldn’t see him keeping his homosexuality a secret. At least not from his employers.

  I found a good photo of him on his company’s website. He looked his age, which was thirty-five, nine years older than Kyler. Even with a decent picture, I still didn’t recognize him.

  “There’s something hinky going on here,” I muttered. I hadn’t found any reason—so far at least—that explained why he had to hide the fact he belonged to the club.

  There was also no reason why Kyler hadn’t known Wilmer’s real name. Unless, perhaps, he had but had kept it a secret, even from Lorne, at Wilmer’s request.

  “Maybe Wilmer’s really a secret government agent, using the engineering firm as his cover.” I chuckled at that idea. It was pretty damned farfetched.

  I did know Wilmer’s address. That came up when I hacked into the club’s database. I decided to check it out, but not until the next day. I was tired and needed to get some sleep if I was going to have a working brain in the morning.

  Chapter 4

  Gavin Wilmer lived in a gated community, according to the information I had. It was on the edge of a lake on the outskirts of the city, which, despite the supposed security, made it easy to enter. I rented a small boat from a concessionaire on the other side of the lake, rode over, and tied it off at a dock belonging to—well, hell if I knew but it was there, no one was around, and I used it. I didn’t plan on staying long, so hopefully I’d be back before the owners of the dock realized I’d left the boat there.

  I found Wilmer’s house and was suitably impressed. I figured his job must pay well. It was two stories, stucco, with large front windows and an attached three-car garage. I walked down the sidewalk in front of his place, glancing with apparent casualness at the front windows. The curtains were open and the sun was at the right angle to flood the rooms with light. As far as I could see, there was no one at home. I got the same feeling when I went back to stroll along the shore of the lake, checking out the rear of the house. The backyard had a well-cared for lawn leading down to the lake. Either Wilmer was a late riser on Sundays, or he was off on a business trip, at a friend’s house…The possibilities were numerous.

  I took the path between his house and the next one, back to the sidewalk. Two doors down I saw a woman just leaving her house, her dog prancing eagerly toward the fallen leaves under a tree at the edge of her yard. She looked askance at me, so I smiled and said, “I’m looking for Gavin Wilmer. I have some designs he wanted to look at. I
was told he lives here—” I swept out one arm, “—but I must have written down the wrong number.”

  Thankfully she didn’t ask why they hadn’t told me at the security gate. Instead, she pointed to Wilmer’s house. “So you’re an engineer too?” she asked while keeping an eye on her dog.

  “Yes, ma’am. I started working for the company last month.”

  “You know, I’m not sure he’s home, now that I think about it. I saw him leaving…hmm…three days ago, with luggage.”

  I smiled ruefully. “Would have been nice if someone at work had mentioned that. It would have saved me a trip, Ms…?”

  “Johnson.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Johnson. Was his wife with him when he left?”

  She laughed. “Believe me, Gavin is not married.” She eyed me before adding, “I guess you don’t know he’s gay.”

  “Honestly, no. But then I barely know him. We work out of the same office but he’s one of the top engineers, and I’m a mere peon trying to work my way up the ladder.”

  “If you’re as industrious as you seem to be, coming out here on a Sunday to try to talk to him, I’m sure you’ll go far.”

  “Thank you. Well, I should leave you to it. It’s been nice talking with you.”

  By then the dog was tugging his leash so she nodded before letting him take the lead on their walk. I waited until I knew her concentration was fully on him before going back to the path down to the lake. The boat was still where I’d left it, with no one around wondering why it was there. Ten minutes later I returned it to the concessionaire and headed home, not much wiser about Wilmer other than that he had a nice home, was apparently out of town, and at least one of his neighbors knew he was gay.

  * * * *

  I called Lorne. “If you’re not busy, how about we meet for lunch?” I could almost see the look of puzzlement on his face when I said that.

  “You found out something?” he finally asked.

  “Yeah. Not much, and I could tell you now, but I figured, I’m hungry, it’s that time of day, so if you want…” I wasn’t sure why I was doing this. It’s not me. All I could think was—I’m bored? And hungry—like I told him. So why not go out for lunch with a nice, younger guy who isn’t someone I’ve slept with. God only knows there are too few of those around.

  “Sure,” he replied hesitantly. “Where?”

  “You know the brunch place on Fifth?”

  “Yes. It’s not that far from me.”

  “Good. Say in half an hour?”

  “Okay.”

  Thirty minutes later, on the dot, I saw him coming down the street as I parked my car.

  “Did you walk?” I asked when I joined him.

  “Sure. It might be one of the last days to do so comfortably before it snows.”

  He had a point. It was definitely chillier than it had been even a couple of hours before, when I’d checked out Wilmer’s house.

  There were several groups of people waiting to be seated. I gave the hostess my name and we went back outside to wait, where we wouldn’t be crammed cheek-by-jowl with everyone else.

  “What did you find out?” Lorne asked, pacing with his arms wrapped around himself to, presumably, ward off the cold.

  “I’ll tell you when we’re back inside.” I pointedly glanced at the other people standing in the area in front of the restaurant.

  He cracked a grin. “Then let’s go back in.”

  “Not until they tell us we’ve got a table so we don’t have to shout.”

  “It’s always noisy in there.”

  “A favorite haunt of yours?”

  He nodded. “On Sunday’s, when I’m not working.”

  “It never even occurred to me when I called that you might be,” I admitted.

  “Every other weekend. When I do, I get Monday’s off.”

  At that point, we both went quiet. After all, we didn’t really know each other well enough to have much to talk about, other than the reason we were here in the first place. I had a sudden thought, wondering what he’d be like in bed, and quickly quashed it. I had the feeling, despite the fact he’d been spending nights at the club, he wasn’t someone who slept with just anyone who asked. Or anyone at all—perhaps. At least from the way he ignored the guys who tried to approach him. Hell, for all I knew he had someone at home and didn’t suggest bringing him because we were meeting to talk about Wilmer, and Lorne’s brother.

  That reminded me of something I’d thought of on the way over. I moved away from the other people, waited for him to join me, then said, “By any chance, do you have the keys to your brother’s apartment?”

  “I did. But it’s not his anymore, you know. After all, it’s been six months.”

  “Okay. Yeah. I didn’t think about that—obviously.”

  He smiled. “Were you planning on playing detective and looking at the scene of the crime?”

  “That thought did cross my mind.” I chortled. “I think I must have been a cop in a previous life. I’m sort of getting off on all this, as macabre as it sounds.”

  “It is, a bit, but I get what you mean.”

  We waited some more, pacing, until we were told our table was ready. When we were seated, we got menus, coffee, and ordered lunch. With that accomplished, I filled Lorne in on what I’d learned about Gavin Wilmer.

  He was frowning when I finished. His first question was, “Why would he want to be an anonymous special member at the club? It sounds like being gay shouldn’t have been a problem. I wonder if Kyler knew his real name.”

  “Both good questions. They were together for how long?”

  “Two months.”

  “Then, if there was more than sex between them, and the vacation thing makes it sound as if there was, I suspect Wilmer revealed his real name to Kyler. It’s hard to hide behind an alias when you’re in a long-term, personal relationship.”

  Lorne looked at me, head cocked. “You sound like you know from your own experience.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t,” I replied with a grin. That was an outright lie. Way back when, while trying to get information to use for blackmail, I went undercover, so to speak. In the process, I met a guy and something clicked between us. We seemed to have a good thing going and I was considering telling him who I really was. That became a moot point when he decided to get nosy and went through my wallet one night while I was sleeping. He woke me, screaming about how I’d lied to him. He didn’t give me a chance to explain. Just grabbed his clothes and dressed on the way to the front door. It was the last time I saw him. Deciding getting out of town was probably my smartest move at that point, I did—without finishing what I’d started. It was a lesson well learned and I’d never allowed myself to get involved on a personal level with anyone since then.

  “Good,” Lorne replied, smiling a bit. “I’d hate to find out your name’s not really Brant Colton, now that I’m beginning to get to know you.” He quickly took a drink of coffee, making me wonder what that was all about. I probably didn’t want to know.

  “That’s all you’ve been able to find out about Mr. Wilmer?” he asked as our meals were delivered.

  “So far. You have to remember, I’m not really a detective. I just—” I chortled, “—play one around you.”

  “Uh-huh. Still you did find out who he is, and where he works and lives. That’s not bad for an amateur.”

  “Thanks.” I tasted my French toast, which turned out to be excellent, then asked him, “What did Kyler do for a living? You said he traveled a lot.”

  “He was a freelance photographer. And the reason I studied photography. I’m not nearly as good as he was, which is why I have a real job too, darn it.”

  I laughed. “Nothing wrong with that. It happens to a lot of people.”

  Lorne dug into his omelet at that point, I went to work on my meal, and we didn’t talk until we both finished. Then, pushing his plate to one side, he looked at me. “You will keep digging, won’t you?”

 
I nodded. “My next step is trying to get a face-to-face with Wilmer.”

  “How?”

  “You have heard of phones, right?” I chuckled when he rolled his eyes. “I’ll start by finding out when he’s due back in town.”

  “I wonder if the police have done that already. I mean, talked with him. I did give them his name, but since it’s not his real one…”

  “You told them about the club?”

  “No. I said he was a very good friend of Kyler’s and left it at that. I knew the club was private and quite honestly I didn’t think they should be hassling the members. Ones who would have had nothing to do with why Kyler died.”

  “Not necessarily true, since we don’t know who might have killed him,” I pointed out. “But still, thank you. I’m not sure how I’d have felt if the cops suddenly showed up to question everyone.”

  “Probably pissed as hell,” Lorne replied with a dry smile.

  “Yep.” I caught the waitress’s attention and signaled for the check. When she brought it, I paid for our meals, waving away Lorne’s objections by saying I was the one who had suggested we eat while talking.

  By the time we left the restaurant it was downright cold out, so I offered to give Lorne a ride back to his place, which he accepted. He did live close, only a few blocks away, in an older apartment building. He got out of the car after thanking me for lunch. I told him I’d call when I had anything more to tell him, and then headed home.

  With nothing to do relating to Wilmer until I got in contact with him, I spent the rest of the afternoon checking out a potential new ‘donator’ to my bank account. Not that I needed one at the moment. The money from Saunders would keep me going for quite a while yet. But habits are hard to break. I fixed a quick dinner, then dressed to go to the club.

  The first person I saw, when I walked through the doorway around eight, was Bill. He was lolling against the bar, drink in hand, checking out the men he could see from his vantage point.

  “See someone you like?” I asked, joining him.

  “I do now,” he replied with a very faked, lecherous grin.

  Giving him a hug, I replied, “Let me get a drink, and finish it, then we’ll see what happens.”