Shotgun

by Marie Sexton

  “You’re saying he wants to have sex with me? Or with Dominic?”

  “No.” He turned away, ostensibly to get a fork out of a drawer, although he took an awful long time doing it. This time, I was sure he was hiding embarrassment. “He wants me to.”

  “Oh.” I’d never been involved in a threesome. Never even really understood the dynamics of sex when more than two people were involved. I looked away from Angelo, trying not to think about having sex with him, but it was hard to stop myself from wondering if he preferred top or bottom, or what he looked like naked. I wondered exactly what Zach’s role would have been in this scenario but didn’t want to ask.

  “Sorry,” Angelo said, thankfully interrupting my too erotic thoughts. “It’s not like we get a lot of chances here in town, so I can’t blame him for hopin’. But we have rules.”

  I shook my head, not wanting to hear more. “What about the rest of it? Something about somebody named Jared?”

  Angelo laughed. “Oh yeah. Zach’s right. Assuming your friend Dominic is innocent, I really will owe him an apology.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Because Matt’s gonna bust his balls extra hard now.”

  “For checking out some guy?”

  “Jared’s not just any guy. He’s Matt’s husband.”

  I blinked at him, then turned to look at the door Matt had exited through, as if maybe there was some other Matt over there. Some Matt who might have a husband rather than a wife to go with the ring on his left hand. “Are you telling me—”

  “I know, right?” Angelo said, grinning at me. “Straightest queer I ever met.”

  “But he’s gay?”

  “Technically, I think he’s bi, ’cause he checks out women way more than men. But he’s probably never thought it through enough to put a label on it. I’ll tell you what, though. When it comes to Jared, he’s crazy jealous.”

  “Was Dominic really checking Jared out?” And what did I care if he was? Before last Christmas, Angelo had said, which was long before I’d even moved to town. I’d been in Dallas, begging Jonas to squeeze in a few yuletide hours with me.

  Still, the thought of Dominic being interested in anybody else made me frown.

  “He was. Although I may have exaggerated a bit.” He threw me a mischievous smile. “For Matt’s sake, you know.”

  Zach emerged, dripping wet and looking significantly better, as if the shower had washed away most of his hangover. He sidled up behind Angelo as he cooked, whispering in his ear as he wrapped his arms around his waist. I kind of wished they’d quit being so happily in love right in front of me. It was damned annoying.

  I looked away from them and around their unfamiliar house with its too-small kitchen and strangely large dining room. A half-completed jigsaw puzzle covered most of the dining room table. One nearly empty wineglass sat on the end nearest me. I could smell the tang of its dregs from where I sat.

  How had I come to this? I felt like my world had turned upside down. Dominic might be my stalker, and I was here, in this house with people I didn’t know from Adam, brought here by Officer Richards, who turned out to have a husband.

  “When I first met Officer Rich—Matt, I mean. When I first met him, I told him I thought I was the only gay guy in town.”

  “I’m surprised he managed to keep a straight face,” Zach said.

  “So to speak,” Angelo added.

  “What?” Zach asked, confused.

  “‘Straight’ face. Get it?” Angelo laughed, obviously more amused by Zach than by Matt and his face, straight or otherwise. Zach rolled his eyes.

  “Are there more?” I asked. It was a dumb question, but Angelo obviously understood.

  “Not that we know of,” he said. “Except the band teacher at the high school, but he’s about twice our age.”

  “And apparently your friend Dominic,” Zach added, snagging a piece of bacon off the plate where Angelo was stacking them as they came out of the frying pan.

  “Yes,” I said quietly. “And Dominic.”

  “Hope Matt isn’t too hard on him,” Angelo said.

  “I hope Dominic doesn’t give him reason to be.”

  DOMINIC

  THE DAY was shaping up to be hell. Frank and Julio had both called in sick with the flu, Lenny was high as a kite, and we had a billion cars lined up to work on. I was in the office scanning our worksheet for the morning when Dimitri found me. “Hey, Dom. There’s a cop out here. Says he needs to talk to you.”

  “A cop?” I asked, confused. And in the very next instant, my heart burst into action. “Is it Naomi? Has something happened?”

  “That’s the first thing I asked, but he said no.”

  “Elena?”

  “He says it’s something else. But I’ll tell you, he’s not exactly being friendly. And….” He grimaced and looked down at his shoes. “It’s that one cop, you know?” His voice fell to a conspiratorial whisper, even though there was nobody else in the room with us. “The gay one. So Dad’s sort of giving him the stink eye and pretending like he doesn’t exist.”

  At other times, I might have been hurt or annoyed at Dad’s narrow-mindedness, but I was too busy being relieved Naomi and Elena were all right.

  I followed Dimitri to the front of the shop, where the cop waited. I’d never met Matt Richards, but I knew who he was—everybody did, after the shooting incident five years earlier—but I had my own reasons for resenting him. For years before he’d come into the picture, I’d contemplated the possibility of introducing myself to Jared Thomas. After all, Jared and I had both grown up in Coda. We’d gone to school together, although I’d been a few years behind him, so we’d never hung with the same crowds. I had a feeling he had no idea who I was, but I’d definitely paid attention to him ever since he’d moved back to Coda after graduating college. He was cute as hell, and I’d listened with growing interest to the rumors that he was gay. Many times, I’d debated going into his family’s hardware shop and introducing myself, but I’d always gotten stuck on what came next. I couldn’t come out. I didn’t have the luxury of dating. I wouldn’t have minded something a bit more intimate on the down low, but I had no idea how to approach him. And so I’d waited, assuming an opportunity would present itself. And then this man had come along and ended those daydreams. He’d done what I hadn’t had the balls to do.

  “You’re Dominic Jacobsen?” he asked, and I could see what Dimitri meant. There was nothing friendly about his attitude.

  “Yes.”

  He glanced sideways at my dad, who was scowling at him, and my brother, who was watching us with open curiosity. “Is there someplace we can talk privately?”

  I sensed my father’s disapproval and my brother’s disappointment, but I said, “Sure. Follow me.”

  Once back in the garage’s claustrophobic office, I closed the door to ensure our privacy and turned to face him. The small space only served to accentuate his size. He was only an inch or two taller than me, but his broad shoulders and bulging arms made me feel tiny. I had the distinct impression he was trying to burn a hole right through me with his eyes, like some kind of comic book supervillain.

  Or maybe he was the hero, and I was the villain?

  “Naomi’s okay?” I asked, despite Dimitri’s assurances. “And Elena?”

  “I’m not here about them. I’m here about Lamar Franklin. You know him?”

  “Lamar?” I’d relaxed upon hearing firsthand that Naomi and Elena were fine, but Lamar’s name triggered a new wave of dread. “Is he all right?”

  Matt crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at me. “You know him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How?”

  “We’re, uh, well, we’re friends.” He didn’t respond. Just stared at me with so much suspicion in his eyes, I found myself talking more to try to appease whatever was bothering him. “We did some work on his car. And he’s my daughter’s English teacher.”

  He waited. This time, I held my tongue and made him
speak. “And? Is that it?”

  “Yes. No. I mean, we’re friends. We built the Millennium Falcon together. Is that what you mean?”

  “And what about before that?”

  “Before the Millennium Falcon?”

  He flexed his shoulders. “I’m talking about fifteen years ago. When you met.”

  My neck and cheeks grew warm. My mouth went dry. I glanced at the door to make sure nobody lingered on the other side. But why should I tell him? What did it matter anyway? “What’s this about? Is Lamar okay?”

  “He’s fine.” But Officer Richards didn’t relax his posture one bit. “Answer my question. You met him before, right? Fifteen years ago?”

  My cheeks burned hotter. “Yes.”

  “You two had a sexual encounter.”

  “Yes!” I hissed, glancing again toward the door. “Jesus! What’s the problem?”

  “What happened when he came back into town? Did you look him up? Track down where he lives?”

  “No. I had no idea he was even in Coda until three weeks ago when we towed his car in. Somebody had smashed it all to hell.”

  “Was it you?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” He took a step closer. I instinctively stepped back and nearly tripped over the trash can. Smooth. I managed to stay on my feet, but the clank of the metal bin as it skittered across the cement floor seemed abrasive and loud. And it didn’t slow Officer Richards down one bit. “Maybe you were worried about your little secret getting out so you decided to make his life hell and try to run him out of town.”

  I swallowed, thinking hard. If anybody else had referred to my “little secret,” I might have gone into defense mode, but I knew he wouldn’t goad me simply for being gay. There was clearly something else going on. “I didn’t know he was back until that day. I didn’t even know his last name until that day.” And then realization dawned. “Wait. Did something else happen?”

  Matt squinted at me, possibly debating what exactly to say. What he decided on was “He’s been getting a lot of late-night phone calls, and I have reason to believe somebody’s been entering his home while he’s away. You know anything about that?”

  “No!” I said, stunned. “I had no idea. Are you saying somebody broke in?”

  “We think this person has a key to his house.”

  “Oh my God!” My mind reeled at the horror of that thought. “Jesus, is he okay? I mean….” I leaned against the wall and ran a hand through my hair, trying to steady myself. Matt had already said Lamar was fine. But for how long? If somebody had busted up his car, and was making threatening phone calls, and that person had a key to his house? “Do you have any ideas who it could be?”

  He cocked his head at me, his eyes still narrow and suspicious, but I saw the first break in his hostility, the first hint he was starting to believe me. “I have a couple of guesses.”

  “And I’m one of them?”

  He made a noncommittal shrug. “You seem as likely as any of the others.”

  “Okay.” I thought back over the facts as they probably appeared to Officer Richards: fifteen years apart, me halfway in the closet, Lamar not knowing a single other person in town besides his aunt and uncle. “I can see how you’d suspect me. But I swear to you, I didn’t do it.”

  “Can you tell me where you were last night between approximately 10:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m.?”

  “At home.”

  “And what about the night of September fifteenth?”

  “I was home then too.”

  “Pretty quick answer. You don’t want to check your calendar or anything?”

  “I don’t need to. I know I was home, because I’m home every night.”

  “You have anybody who can vouch for that?”

  Now that the shock had worn off, his hostility was starting to annoy me. “My daughter, although I suppose I could still have snuck out without her knowing. But I didn’t. It wasn’t me.”

  He chewed on that for a minute and finally relaxed a bit, allowing his arms to fall by his sides. He took a step back and perched on the edge of the desk, crossing his long legs at the ankles. “What about Jared Thomas? You know him?”

  That surprised me. “Of course. I mean, I don’t really know him, but we both grew up in Coda. Why? Is somebody harassing him too?”

  He squinted at me again, clearly trying to judge my guilt or innocence. Finally, he sighed. He looked down at his cowboy boots and made a sound that might have been a chuckle. “I’m going to kill him,” he muttered, more to himself than me.

  “Who? Jared?”

  “No.” He waved it off, and when he again met my gaze, I was glad to see most of his hostility was gone. When he spoke again, he kept his voice down so nobody would be able to hear us. “Is there anybody else in your life who might resent Lamar for coming back?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Any boyfriends or exes?”

  “No.”

  “What about your wife?”

  “Elena wouldn’t do this.”

  “You’re still together?”

  “No. Not for a long time.”

  “Does she know about Lamar?”

  “She knows everything, but—”

  “Is her last name Jacobsen?” he asked, pulling a small notebook from his breast pocket.

  “She uses her maiden name. Martinez.”

  “Do you have a number or an address for her?”

  “She didn’t do it.”

  “That’s not what I asked.” He glanced up, pen poised over the pad. “Do you have a number or an address for her?” he repeated.

  I gave him both. There was no reason not to. Two minutes with Elena would be enough to eliminate any doubt in Officer Richards’s mind as to her innocence, and maybe she’d even throw in a good word for me.

  “Is Lamar really all right?” I asked as Officer Richards put his notebook away again.

  “Other than being a bit rattled, he’s fine. He’ll be relieved to learn you’re not the one doing all this to him, though. I think he was more upset about me suspecting you than over what’s actually happened.”

  “So you believe me?”

  “I’m starting to.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt him. I swear to you. I—” I love him. But no, that was both a lie and the truth. Between fifteen years’ worth of daydreams and only few weeks of reality, it was too complicated to express. Too mixed up to even sort out. “I care about him,” I said at last.

  I knew the sincerity of those words rang true. I saw it in the way Matt nodded, his eyes suddenly more sympathetic. He tilted his head toward the door and the rest of the garage.

  “I take it they don’t know?”

  My cheeks began to burn anew. I hated myself for it. “Yes and no. I don’t know. I’ve never exactly lied about it, but… it’s never really come up.”

  He raised his eyebrows at me. “And now?”

  “Now, what?”

  “With Lamar?”

  I shook my head. “Like I said. It’s never come up.”

  “And when it does?”

  My gut clenched at the thought. “It’s complicated.”

  He sighed. Crossed his arms again, although this felt more defensive than aggressive. This time, it was his cheeks that began to turn scarlet.

  “You know who Jared is, and this is a small town, so I assume you know who I am too.”

  I hesitated, unsure I wanted to go where he was leading. “I do.”

  He thought for a moment, staring down at the toes of his boots. Finally, he spoke again, his voice kinder than it had been since he’d walked through the door. “Look, I’m not going to say it’s easy. But I’ll tell you this: that first step—just saying the words out loud to the people who need to know—that’s the hardest part. But it gets easier. If you just keep your head up and ignore all the bullshit, it’ll all start to fall away. I promise you, every single day that goes by, it’ll get easier. And none of it is as hard as keeping up the lie.”

&
nbsp; Now it was my turn to look down at my worn work boots. I wanted to believe him, but this was different. I had a daughter to think about.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him push himself up off the desk. “I’ll let you get back to work. And speaking of which, you’ll need to tow Lamar’s car. Whoever did this slit his tires again.”

  “I’ll take care of it. What about Lamar?”

  “He’s safe for now. He’s staying with a friend of mine. He’ll need a ride later, though. I can take care of it or—”

  “I’ll do it.”

  He pulled his little notebook out of his pocket and scribbled something on it, then ripped the page out and handed it to me. It was an address. “That’s where he is. He can stay there for as long as he needs to. He’ll be glad to hear from you, though.”

  “Thank you.”

  He pocketed the notebook and held out a hand. I expected him to do the tough-guy thing and try to break my hand, but he didn’t. He even smiled a bit. “Do me a favor?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  “When you meet Angelo, tell him I said he’s an asshole.”

  MATT HAD only been gone a minute when Dimitri stuck his head through the office door.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Fine.”

  “What was that about?”

  “A friend of mine.” As I said it, I heard Matt’s voice in my head saying, “I take it they don’t know?” “Somebody’s been slashing his tires. Calling late at night. That kind of thing.”

  Dimitri leaned against the doorjamb. “And he thinks it’s you?”

  “No.” Not anymore. “He was just covering his bases.”

  “Oh.” I could tell he was still confused by my story. “Listen, we’re slammed out here—”

  “Shit! I forgot.”

  “Lucky you.”

  When I told Matt I’d give Lamar a ride, I hadn’t considered the backup of cars waiting to be repaired. There was no way I could duck out early. “And I have another one to add to the queue,” I said, thinking of Lamar’s car.