Meredith snorted then said, “He’s worse than I thought, Chaz.”
“His eyes are looking a little wild,” I said to Mere. I offered my hand to assist him off the floor. “He looks a little hungry too.”
“I bet his nerves are making it hard for him to eat,” Meredith replied, nodding her head.
“Good thing we picked up his favorite foods from the diner on the way over,” I added.
“Then feed me instead of fucking around like clowns.” Josh grabbed my hand, and I groaned like he weighed a half ton while I helped him to his feet. “You better start working on your strength and stamina for when you and Kyle stop dicking around and really get to dicking around. What do you authors call words that are spelled the same but have multiple meanings?”
“Homonyms,” I said patiently.
“I would’ve guessed versatile,” he paused for effect, “like Kyle.” Josh casually tossed that out there before he walked by us in search of food.
Meredith’s eyes widened in surprise and maybe concern for the direction the conversation turned. I wasn’t sure if Josh was going for shock value or what, but I vowed not to react. Unfortunately, I felt heat creeping up my neck and lower half of my face as I followed him to the kitchen. Obviously, Josh learned that Kyle was versatile through Gabe, and I didn’t like that they discussed Kyle’s sexual preferences. Then it hit me. Gabe didn’t tell Josh that Kyle was versatile, Gabe showed Josh that he was versatile and Josh connected the dots. Hmmm, I tucked that knowledge into my arsenal to use when the time was right.
We all fell on our food like ravenous animals and several minutes passed before Meredith said, “Let us help you work through some of this, baby. Maybe if you get it off your chest, you can sort it all out and feel better. Normally, we’d let you internalize your feelings until you either work them out on your own or talk to us and let us help, but this is too important for us just to sit back and wait.”
“Really, dude,” I agreed. “Get it all out so you can enjoy your week.”
We started asking Josh questions to figure out exactly what had him tied up in knots. The more questions we asked, the more confused I grew because he seemed to have everything under control. Yes, he was nervous about meeting Gabe’s birth mother and his sisters for the first time, but that wasn’t the source of his stress. He had all the meals planned and rooms ready for their parents’ stay in their new home, so that wasn’t his problem. He told us that everything was on track with the wedding vendors too. So, what the hell was going on?
“Then what is it?” Mere asked, sounding just as confused as me.
“This is going to sound crazy,” Josh said in warning, but instead of being afraid, we placed our elbows on the table and leaned in closer.
“We were born for crazy,” I told him. But neither Mere nor I was prepared for the level of crazy he shared with us. “First, I have to tell you about Emory.”
Earlier in the year, Emory Jackson moved into the house next to the salon. Josh disliked him from the word go and wanted no part of him, which Meredith and I found strange. He had no viable reason for disliking the man; he just did. Things got even stranger when Josh randomly invited the guy to Easter dinner a short time later. Josh was practically spitting nails at Emory one minute and inviting him to our sacred dinners the next. I grew even more suspicious when Emory said he moved to Blissville to write a book. What? Here? Why? Did he just throw a dart at a map? I’d already published my first book by then, even though none of my friends knew it. I struck up a conversation with Emory about writing and publishing, and I quickly learned that he knew nothing about either subject. So, why was he in town? Maybe Josh was right when he didn’t trust the man. I went home that night and googled Emory’s name and what I learned shattered my heart.
Emory and his husband, River, were involved in a single-car accident that claimed his husband’s life. According to the articles I found, Emory came out of his coma with newfound abilities. He began having psychic visions and attributed them to his husband guiding him from beyond the grave to help people. It honestly sounded a little farfetched to me, but I saw the sadness in Emory’s eyes and knew his hurt was genuine. Dozens of police departments across the country publicly said they never would’ve solved the cold cases without his help. He even appeared on a few episodes of a television show that explored psychic investigating. He seemed to be legitimate, but that never answered the question of why he moved to Blissville of all places.
“But apparently, you both already knew that,” Josh said once he finished telling us what he knew about Emory’s background.
“Emory said he wanted to write books, but he knew shockingly little about the process,” I told him. “I got the feeling he was covering something. I quietly did an internet search and read some articles about his past. I didn’t say anything because it was obvious he wasn’t here to hurt anyone, and I didn’t feel right gossiping about him.”
“Same,” Meredith agreed. “He was too vague about some things, and I wondered how he could afford to move here when he obviously wasn’t working and said he hadn’t published a book yet.”
“Gabe would be very proud of your sleuthing skills,” Josh told us.
“What does Emory’s background have to do with you looking like a cat on its eighth-and-three-quarters life?” I asked him. “Oh! He’s had a vision about one of you.”
Mere gasped and sat straight up in her chair then covered her heart as if she was trying to protect it from the truth. “Jazz, is that true?”
“Yes,” Josh admitted. “There’s more to the story.”
We raptly listened as Josh talked about how Emory met them in their driveway when they returned home from Josh’s birthday trip in June with a gloomy prediction that someone from Gabe’s past was out for revenge. June! Josh had known about it for three months and didn’t tell either of us. He then told us about the U.S. Deputy Marshall showing up the night they moved into their new home with news that Gabe’s former partner on the Miami Police Department was on the run and most likely gunning for Gabe, who he blamed for ruining his career. I’d seen the “Wanted” posters hanging up, but I didn’t know what the hell it was all about. Why didn’t Josh tell Mere and me? Didn’t he trust us?
“I just can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen,” Josh said. The strain in his voice and the sadness I saw in his eyes broke me out of my pity party for one.
“Honey, this guy has been on the run for weeks. He would’ve shown up here already,” Meredith said calmly.
“Maybe,” I said. “A guy like him would know how to avoid detection from law enforcement agencies. He’s probably changed his appearance and is using cash he kept squirreled away if this day ever came.” I tipped my head while I thought some more. “Probably even money he’d taken from the evidence locker they’d collected from drug busts, searches, and seizures. I mean, here these cops are eking out a living while that money sits in an evidence locker. Hell, I bet most of it never gets tagged into evidence. I think the temptation to make their lives a little better would be too great to pass. I doubt he’s fled the country and he’ll be looking for revenge.”
Somewhere along the way, my brain veered away from Josh and Gabe’s real circumstances to my fictional world, and I imagined how the story would unfold there. “If he thinks Gabe is responsible for ruining his career then he won’t go down without trying to take Gabe with him,” I said. “Or, if he truly wanted to hurt Gabe he’d kill the one Gabe loves most in the world. He’d turn his attention on Josh when everyone focused on protecting Gabe.”
“Charles Bailey!” Meredith yelled. “What the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you?” She followed up her question with a smack to the back of my head, which forced me back to reality.
“Huh?” I asked. “What did I say?”
“Look what you did to Jazz.” Meredith pointed to Josh, who had tears streaming down his face.
“Fuck! What did I say?” I asked.
“You b
asically implied that there’s no fucking way that Jimmy De Soto hopped on a dinghy and headed to the Bahamas and that he’s most likely hiding out nearby so he can kill Josh to get back at Gabe,” Meredith recapped.
“I said that?” I asked. “Oh man, I was just plotting for my book out loud more than anything. Damn, Jazz, I’m so sorry I said that to you.”
“Book plotting?” Meredith scoffed. “What, you have a Gabe in your book who also happens to be a cop with an ex-partner on the run from the law who may or may not want to kill him for ruining his career?”
“No, not really, but that’s what I would do if I were writing this scenario in a book. I would have De Soto come after Josh, and I’d do it in a big way, but this isn’t fiction this is—”
A knock at the back door scared the hell out of us and interrupted me before I could finish. In fact, we all screamed like girls.
“Oh my God!” Meredith exclaimed. “It’s him!”
“De Soto wouldn’t knock, Mere. He’d just kick down the door,” I said.
“Like that makes us feel better,” Meredith said hotly. “What’s the matter with you? You start writing some sexy suspense novel with a serial killer and BAM, you turn a little creepy yourself. I can’t imagine what your search engine must be like on your laptop. That’s probably the feds looking for your disturbing ass.”
“Josh, you guys okay in there?” Emory asked through the back door as if he didn’t just hear us all screaming.
Meredith continued to rip me a new one while Josh got up and unlocked the door.
Emory looked around the kitchenette and asked, “Is this a bad time?”
“Meredith is ripping into Chaz for misbehaving; same speech, different ear,” Josh told him.
I would’ve much rather listened in on the conversation Josh and Emory had, but I worried what Meredith might do to me if I ignored her. I knew that most of her blustery attitude came from fear for our friends. I covered both of her hands with mine and looked into her warm brown eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Mere.” I had no real way of knowing that, but the alternative was too scary to contemplate.
When I arrived at the animal hospital, my insurance agent was waiting for me. I hadn’t called her office yet, so I figured she must have heard about the break-in through town gossip. “Good morning, Holly,” I said to her. “How are you today?”
“Sounds like I’m doing better than you,” she said dryly. I think I first met Holly in preschool. We became fast friends and remained that way all our lives. She was the girl I took to senior prom, the one I had wished I could love, and the first person I told I was gay when I realized that I never would. Her family owned and operated the only insurance agency in town for the past five decades. Her father decided to retire early a few years back, and Holly took over the business as I had from my grandfather.
“It could’ve been worse,” I said, unlocking the back door.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” Holly told me. “We were out of town for one of Dexter’s soccer tournaments and didn’t get back until late last night.”
“You’re not late, Hol,” I told her. “I hadn’t even called your office yet. How’d Dex’s team do?”
“They played amazing,” she replied. I heard the pride in her voice and saw it sparkling in her green eyes. “The good news is that they advanced to the regional finals, but the bad news is that they advanced to the regional finals. I’m so proud of Dexter’s accomplishments, but a tiny part of me is ready to stay home for one weekend and just read a book. Besides being tired all the time, I worry that playing soccer at this level is too much pressure for a nine-year-old boy.”
“I think he’ll be okay as long as it’s still fun for him,” I told her. “It might be time for a break if soccer becomes ‘have to’ instead of ‘get to.’”
Holly tilted her head while she thought about what I said. “That’s sound advice. You should tuck that away for when you become a father.”
“Noted,” I said with a wink. I liked that Holly said “when” and not “if” like it was a foregone conclusion that all of my dreams would come true someday, not just my professional ones. “Officer Wen took official photos for you that he’ll attach to the report, but I’ll show you my biggest concerns.”
“Officer Wen forwarded everything to me this morning. His report indicated that none of your medications or merchandise was stolen. Is that correct?” Holly asked.
“It’s true,” I replied. “I updated Wen last night once Alyssa and Terry completed the inventory. They had to be after the heavy-duty drugs and trashed the place when they couldn’t get their hands on them. They busted up our shelves, cabinets, tables in reception, and even our damn potted plants and flowers. It was completely random. I’m so damn thankful they didn’t hurt any of the pets boarding here this week.”
“Absolutely,” Holly agreed. “We can replace your stuff, but we can’t replace someone’s beloved pet.” She shook her head. “I’ll forward all the documentation to your claim adjuster, and I don’t think it will take long before you receive a check to replace damaged items.”
“Do you have a carpenter referral?” I asked Holly. “I’d rather get him started on repairs rather than wait on the check.”
“I sure do,” she replied. “Let me look up the number for you.”
“Dr. Vaughn,” Alyssa said, interrupting us. “The Jenkinses are on the phone. Buttercup’s water broke, and it appears that her foal is breech.”
“Holly, I need to go. Could you give the information to Alyssa?”
“Sure thing,” Holly told me. “I hope everything turns out okay for Buttercup and her foal.”
“You and me both,” I said before I left.
The Jenkins’ farm wasn’t too far outside town limits, so I arrived fast after the call came in. When I entered the barn, I found Buttercup lying in her stall breathing hard and covered in sweat. Her eyes were wide with fear and pain, and her whinnies tugged at my heart. “It’s okay, sweet girl.” I entered her stall slowly, so I didn’t cause her additional stress. I looked up at her fretful owners. “Can one of you kneel down and give her comfort while I examine her?”
Mara dropped to her knees beside her prone horse and began cooing to her as she stroked her neck and velvety nose. “It’s going to be just fine, baby girl. Dr. Vaughn will make it all better.”
I hoped Mara was right because I desperately wanted the delivery to go as smooth as possible and without serious injury to either Buttercup or her foal. “How long has she been in labor?” I asked while slipping my arms inside long, latex gloves.
“Right before we called you,” Stan told me. “Her water broke, and the foal’s hooves dropped instead of her nose.”
“That’s not completely uncommon,” I told them. “I’ll examine Buttercup to see what’s going on.” I looked back down at the horse and saw that Mara’s ministrations were working, and the horse appeared to be slightly calmer than when I first arrived. “Okay, Mara, she’s going to need some more loving because this could be pretty painful for her.”
“Okay, Dr. Vaughn,” Mara replied to me before she turned to her horse. “You’re doing good, Buttercup. I promise you that I’ll never put you through this misery ever again. Just hang in there a little bit longer.”
I slid my hand inside Buttercup and felt along the foal’s leg and was ecstatic when I felt the foal’s chest and neck. “She’s not breech,” I told them. “It’s still going to be painful for Buttercup while I try to position the foal better for birth.”
“She’s a tough girl, Doc,” Mara said proudly. “Do whatever you can to help her.”
It took an hour of working with Buttercup’s contractions, but I was finally able to line the foal properly in the birth canal and helped the horse deliver her beautiful baby. “They’re perfect,” I declared after I checked mother and baby over good. “Tired, but perfect,” I said, rubbing Buttercup’s neck. I smiled when her foal, Starla, attempted to take her first steps on wobbly legs th
at she would grow into someday.
“Thank you for everything,” Stan Jenkins said when he followed me to my truck. “Mara would’ve been crushed if something had happened to Buttercup or Starla.” Mara wouldn’t have been the only devastated Jenkins had things not gone as well as they did. I saw how damp Stan’s eyes got once Starla arrived safely, but I didn’t say anything about it.
It was noon by the time I got back to the animal hospital, and I was hours behind schedule. The downside of being the only vet meant I had to reschedule appointments when an emergency came up. In most cases, I worked through lunch and stayed late to make sure I got to the most critical cases the same day. It made for a long, stressful day, but it was worth it.
Alyssa assured me the carpenter would be there to begin replacing the door and busted shelves before we went home for the evening. Hammering and drilling sounds filled the animal hospital late in the day, but I was too busy to check out the progress. In fact, I hadn’t bothered asking the name of the carpenter because I didn’t care until I spied him talking to Chaz in the parking lot. “It’s that damn Andy again,” I groused.
“What’s wrong with Andy?” Terry asked. “He’s a nice guy.”
“Sexy too,” Molly added. “Oh, I know what the problem is, Terry.”
“Oh, I think I figured it out also. Dr. Vaughn doesn’t like Andy moving into his territory and making a play for his man.”
I thought of Chaz as my man, but it wasn’t a reality. Yet.
“Excuse me, ladies,” I said, brushing by them on my way out the door. “Well, this is a surprise.” Chaz and Andy both looked at me.
“I hope it’s a pleasant one,” Chaz said. He held up a carryout bag from the diner and smiled at me in a way that made the rest of the world disappear. “I thought you might be hungry after your long day.”
Oh, I was hungry all right, but it wasn’t for whatever food he had in the bag. “Perfect timing. I just finished for the day. I have a few—”
“Go on home, Dr. Vaughn,” Alyssa yelled out the door. “We’ll close the animal hospital for the night.”
Unscripted Love (Road to Blissville, #1) Page 11
