Fire and Granite

by Andrew Grey

  “Thanks. I see victims of crime every day, but I never gave much thought to me becoming one.” Andrew ran his hands over the fabric on the sofa again and again. “It really sucks, Clay.”

  What was he going to say? Of course it sucked, and what was bothering him was Harper’s ability to evade everyone time and time again. That was really starting to piss him off. He nodded gently and then stood. “We should get you back to the courthouse. Now that we’re here, they can try to track us again.”

  “I know.” Andrew sighed, stood, and walked slump-shouldered toward the door.

  “Don’t go out yet, please,” Clay said, and gestured Andrew back into the living room before he found Red and Carter in the dining room. “What’s the plan?”

  “We’ll have the door sealed. They’re on their way. Ask Andrew for an extra set of keys to the back door, and we’ll use that to come and go until the front door is fixed and secure. Other than that, just get him somewhere safe and call if you need anything. Terry will probably be over with something to eat later.” Red smiled. “It’s what he does.” He was obviously proud of his husband. “And if he needs to talk, Donald can probably recommend someone.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell him.” Though Andrew didn’t seem to him to be the type that would open up about himself too easily. Clay was surprised that Andrew had revealed as much about himself to Clay as he had. “Thanks.” Clay left the two officers, found Andrew, and ushered him out to the car as quickly as he could.

  The ride back to the courthouse was uneventful, which was a relief. Clay half expected to be followed by someone, which would have been pretty stupid, because then he’d have a location of either Harper or one of his associates. But while Harper was smart, he was also impulsive, so anything was possible.

  Eileen was waiting for them with Petey, who was more than happy to see both of them, tail wagging as he greeted each of them.

  “Did anything urgent happen while I was gone?” Andrew asked as though nothing had happened and his house hadn’t been broken into. Clay knew it was an act, and as he watched, he saw Andrew’s nerves emerging in little things, like the way he drummed his fingers against his leg.

  “There were a few calls. I put the messages on your desk.” Eileen seemed like she was dying to ask what was going on, but smart enough to keep her curiosity to herself.

  Andrew plopped himself at his desk and logged in to his computer, apparently getting to work. Except Clay could tell he was staring at the screen, his fingers hanging over the keyboard more than anything.

  “Is he okay?” Eileen whispered.

  “He will be,” Clay answered, hoping he was right. He turned to look at Andrew before thanking Eileen for watching Petey. “I really appreciate it.”

  Knowing he was being talked about, Petey ambled over and bumped Eileen’s leg before sitting on Clay’s shoe. Obviously he didn’t intend on being left behind again.

  “He’s a sweetheart.” She picked up a page off her desk. “This is his schedule for Monday. Please give it to him. He has a big day, I’m afraid.” She glanced at Andrew once again before grabbing her purse and quietly leaving the office. Clay closed and locked the door after her, then returned to Andrew, who still stared blankly at the computer screen.

  “Here’s your schedule for the start of the week,” Clay said softly, and Andrew looked it over. “Do you need anything before we leave? If not, then let’s go.”

  “I have….” The protest died on his lips.

  “I know. But you aren’t thinking about work right now.” Who would be? “It will wait until Monday.”

  Andrew nodded and shut down his computer, then got his things together while Clay got Petey and the stuff he needed to take with him. He emptied the water bowl and set it aside before ushering Andrew out of the office, letting him close and lock the door. He had parked the car in the back and took Andrew down that way. Petey smelled around, and Clay had to forcibly keep him moving until he had both of them in the car. The incident at the house told him that Harper was definitely around and watching. Damn it all. This running around had probably put Andrew in danger.

  Clay took a circuitous route to the house, pulled into the garage, and closed the door. Petey jumped out as soon as he could, heading into the yard. “Let’s go inside.”

  Andrew nodded absently, and Clay led him through the yard and into the house. He went blankly over and sat on the sofa, and Petey jumped into his lap. Andrew petted him slowly, paying little attention to anything around him, just staring off into space.

  Clay made some tea and brought in a couple of cups, handing one to Andrew. “Maybe we should find you a better place to stay.” Clay sat in the chair across from the sofa.

  “If you don’t want me here anymore, all you need to do is say so….”

  “It isn’t that.” The distress in Andrew’s normally strong, confident voice tore at Clay’s heart. He shouldn’t be feeling like this about someone in his charge, but he couldn’t help it. A certain level of detachment was necessary for him to do his job, and he seemed to be losing that with Andrew. “Harper knows me. I’m trying to keep you away from him, but if he sees us together, I’m afraid that he’ll be able to find us here.” He should have thought about that before.

  “The purpose of this is to keep me safe and so I have some extra protection. I have a feeling that no matter what, this is a kind of race. Harper needs to be found before he gets to me.” Andrew sighed loudly. “But I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

  Clay wasn’t sure how to react to that. His heart made little leaps for a few seconds until reality sank around him. “I said at the beginning that I’d keep you safe, and I will do everything I can to do that. I want you to know that, but I don’t want to be the one to put you in any increased danger.”

  “You aren’t. I think no matter where I am, there’s some kind of risk.” Andrew set his untouched cup of tea on the table.

  “I’m really sorry about your house,” Clay said.

  Andrew shrugged. “Thanks, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. I’ll call the insurance company in the morning, and they can get things started.” He seemed way too businesslike, and Clay wondered when the breakdown would come. Andrew was expending too much energy trying to keep things together for that not to happen. “Do you want help with dinner?”

  “No. I’m going to heat something up.” The plan had been for Andrew to cook, but he wasn’t in any shape for that. Clay knew how he’d feel if someone got into his home. “Relax if you’re able, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He took his tea in with him, pulled a few containers out of the refrigerator, and slipped them into the microwave. Clay kept peering into the living room to check on Andrew. God, he hated seeing him like this, petting Petey but otherwise sitting still, staring off at nothing.

  Clay made dinner, leaving Andrew to his thoughts for a while. He figured he needed some time alone to work things through. Once he had dinner ready, he called Andrew, then set the food on the table.

  Andrew came in and sat down, but made no effort to eat. “The pictures in the hall, they were of family. My grandpa liked to paint and some of them were his, but they’re shreds now. Gone. Just like Grandma’s glass and….” He sniffed. “I know it’s stupid to mourn the loss of things, but….”

  “What were your grandparents like?” Clay asked as he dished up a small amount of pasta and sauce for himself.

  “Grandma was special to me. I used to go over to their house on weekends. She made cookies for me, and we used to play cards and all kinds of games. My grandpa was a musician. He played in a band when he was younger. They didn’t make it, but that’s where his heart lay. He worked in a factory in town making train parts. He used to take me into the living room and play for me. He was an artistic man in all respects. He drew and painted. Not for sale, just for himself and friends. He painted a picture of me when I was a kid. It hung in their home until they died, and then I got it. That painting hung in my hallway until today….�
�� Andrew wiped his eyes. “It was one of a kind… and now it’s gone… along with the others.” He took a bite but didn’t seem to realize what he was eating. It touched Clay that Andrew allowed this side of himself to show.

  “Did they take you places?” Clay asked, trying to change the subject a little and give Andrew emotional cover.

  “Yeah. Mom and Dad didn’t have a lot, but Gran and Pappy took me to Florida to Disney. They also took me to visit some friends of theirs who have a farm outside Lancaster. I used to ride their horse and feed the pigs and chickens. All kinds of stuff. We used to go there in the fall and pick apples, and Gran would make pie.” Andrew smiled. “Now it’s like part of them has been ripped away.” Andrew set down his fork, frowning.

  Clay got up, went around behind him, and slipped his arms around him. He said nothing. Words seemed useless at this point.

  “Clay….”

  “This is what friends do. They care for one another and help each other.” Clay wondered if Andrew had any close friends. There hadn’t been anyone calling to find out how he was. Not even his parents had called, as far as he knew. That bothered him. “You don’t need to go through this alone.”

  Andrew leaned back against him, and Clay stayed where he was, tightening his hold just a little, waiting for Andrew to relax in his embrace. He was strung so tightly that Clay worried about him. “So we’re friends now?” Andrew whispered.

  “I hope so. My dog certainly thinks so, and he’s a better judge of character than I am.”

  Andrew finally relaxed a little, breathing deeply and slowly. Clay didn’t want to move. He liked the feeling of holding Andrew in his arms. The man had energy, and it seeped into Clay when they touched.

  “Would it be weird if I said that this felt nice?” Andrew whispered, placing his hands on Clay’s bare arms. “It’s been a long time since anyone has held me like this… or in any way, as a matter of fact.”

  “Then it’s time that changed. This is a safe place. At least it has been for me, and I intend to keep it that way. The world outside is harsh. I see it… and so do you. It’s part of our jobs. But this is safe, and I make no secret of the fact that I’m a police officer and that I can get help here in a matter of minutes. I have good neighbors. A couple doors down is where Sebastian and Robert—Judge Fortier—live. There are also a lot of other friends in the neighborhood.” Clay pulled away slowly and sat back down. “Crap, I’m supposed to go to a party tomorrow night. Kip and Josten are cooking out and they invited me. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to go.”

  Andrew at least ate something, albeit only enough to keep a bird alive. “Why not? Is it public?” He leaned forward like he was interested.

  “No. They have a fenced yard, and it isn’t likely that they are going to have people in their circle of friends who know Harper, but….”

  “If you want to go, then don’t disappoint your friends. Maybe they’ll have caught him by then and none of this will matter.” Andrew took another bite, and Clay wondered why that thought sent a stab of disappointment running through him.

  “If I go, then you go. I’m not leaving you anywhere alone.” Clay smiled. “And maybe I’m being stupid. What could be safer than being at a party with half the Carlisle police force?” He picked up his fork and ate slowly.

  Clay’s phone rang, and he snatched it off the table.

  “Hey, Clay…,” Red said. “We have the judge’s house secured and we’re running prints. It was pretty easy. We got some good ones off some of the glass, and we got a match to Harper Grange right away. It’s kind of obvious.”

  “Thanks. Any news on locating him?” Clay caught Andrew’s gaze.

  “Yeah. We think we got solid IDs on most of his associates, and we’re checking with relatives. We’re tightening the noose. Kip and Carter are out on a call right now that could lead to a real break. One of those associates was spotted in a bar just outside town. The owner knew who he was and is apparently lubricating him enough that we probably have a chance to get there in time. I’ll call if I learn anything more.”

  “Thanks, Red. I’ll tell Andrew,” Clay said. “Will we see you tomorrow at Kip’s?”

  “Are you coming with the judge?” Red asked, and Clay said they were going to try. “Good. He probably needs to get out. Safest place in town.” Red paused and the phone shuffled a little. “Sorry. I’m still at the office. Tell Andrew I’ll be sending over his report in a few minutes. See you soon.” Red disconnected, and Clay set the phone aside and brought Andrew up to date.

  “I should get the report. I gave him my personal email.”

  “Then you can call the insurance company if you’d like. They have customer service around the clock for that sort of thing.” Clay finished his dinner, with Petey shuffling around under the table. “You might feel a little better if you’re able to do something.”

  Andrew nodded and ate a bit more before carrying the plate to the sink. “I’m going to try to get things started.” He left the room, and Clay took care of his dishes and cleaned up, letting Andrew take care of what he needed to.

  “Go on, Petey. He’s going to need you.”

  Petey looked up at him like he was crazy. Of course, as long as Clay was in the kitchen, Petey was going to stay close in case there was any sort of spillage.

  Clay loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counter, then turned out the light before joining Andrew in the living room.

  “Yes, I have the report number,” he said, sounding as if his patience was running a little thin. He dictated the number. “No, I wasn’t home. I was in court.” He huffed. “I’m a judge… as in, the person who hears trials and sends people to prison.” Now this was the Andrew that Clay had first known. He figured the person on the other end of the line wasn’t being particularly helpful. “Yes, that’s right! What’s your name and how do I spell it?” Oh, he was in rare form, and Clay felt sorry for the operator on the other side of the line. “Yes, that’s much better…. The police secured the front door.”

  Clay pulled open the drawer in the table next to his chair and handed Andrew a small tablet and pen. He started taking notes, writing down numbers and things. Then he finally said goodbye and hung up.

  “I take it things were trying?” Clay asked.

  Andrew sat back, and Petey jumped up next to him, looking for scratches. He was a real attention slut. “Sometimes I wonder about our education system. I told her I was in court, and she asked me if I’d been arrested for drugs.” He shook his head. “First thing, she doesn’t get to ask questions like that. It certainly wasn’t one her company had requested she ask, and when I told her I was a judge… she gasped and asked… ‘Really? Like Judge Judy on television?’” Andrew held his hand in his hands. “I think I’m getting a headache.”

  “Do you want something to take for it?” Clay was about to get up, but Andrew leaned forward, touching his hand.

  “No. It’s just tension. This is the last thing I expected to be doing today.” Andrew yawned, and Clay turned on the television and switched down the lights. He found Willy Wonka and Andrew said he liked it, so he let it play. It was the Gene Wilder version, which they both preferred. “Johnny Depp is fine, but there’s just something about Gene Wilder that makes me smile,” Andrew said, leaning his head back.

  Clay waited for the first commercial break, went upstairs, and returned with a light blanket. He spread it over Andrew’s legs and set a small pillow on the arm. It wasn’t long before Andrew stretched out, Petey taking a place at his feet, and by the end of the movie, Andrew had dropped off to sleep. Clay lowered the volume, found a copy of Billy Elliot, and watched that as Andrew slept on.

  It was late by the time Billy left for London, and Clay turned off the television. Andrew and Petey were both sleeping soundly and snoring softly.

  “Andrew,” Clay said softly. “Sweetheart, you need to come up and go to bed.” The endearment surprised him. He hadn’t meant to say it; it had slipped out without thinking. “It’s l
ate and you have to get some sleep.”

  Andrew groaned softly as he stretched and opened his eyes.

  “Let’s get you up to bed.”

  “Is the movie over?” he asked, slowly pushing aside the blanket. “I guess it is.”

  Petey got down from the sofa, stretched, and yawned, blinking at both of them with a “how dare you disturb me” look. Then he walked out of the room toward the back door.

  “A couple hours ago,” Clay said. “Let’s go on upstairs. You’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He waited as Andrew shuffled up the stairs, then let Petey out and back in, turned out the lights, and checked the doors, as well as peering outside just to make sure the house wasn’t being watched. There were no signs of anyone outside.

  Clay went upstairs and found Petey stretched out smack-dab in the middle of his bed. “Come on, Petey, you can’t have it all.” He got cleaned up and slipped between the covers, turning out the light before forcing Petey to share.

  A SCREAM woke him in the middle of the night. Clay jumped out of bed, grabbed his gun out of the drawer in the bedside table, and raced down the hall to Andrew’s room. He stood outside as the scream came again, then pushed the door open, ready to find an intruder. Instead, Andrew was curled in his blankets, thrashing and turning as he tried to break free.

  “No!” he cried and thrashed some more.

  Clay hurried back to his room, put the gun away, and returned to Andrew’s room. He tried to gently wake him with a light touch to his shoulder.

  Andrew screamed and fell off the bed, thumping to the floor.

  Clay raced over as Andrew struggled against the blankets. “It’s all right. I’m here. You’re okay.” He repeated the words over and over as he helped Andrew out of the knotted covers. “You just fell out of bed.”