Murder at Willow Slough

by Josh Thomas

  Jamie studied his champagne. “Indeed I could not. Only at the arena did you indicate your attraction.”

  “But every time I saw you I had my hands on you. Then I’d decide I wasn’t going to touch you anymore; then I’d see you and there I was, on you again. That time I tried to hug you and you pushed away from me? Man, that scared me off. Then after the TV show you actually came to me. Jamie, I was ecstatic. But I still didn’t say nothing. I should have kissed you right then. A Gay guy, what would you have said but stop? I was so intimidated.”

  “Homophobia intimidates. So does outness, I guess.”

  “Talk about mixed feelings—I want you, I’m scared of you, I don’t want you, yes I do! Man, I had a wet dream the night we met. Scared me to death. Had to go see the major—not that I told him or anything.”

  “What were we doing in your dream?”

  “Just touching. Shirtless, in jeans, both of us. Gosh, you looked so good. I was in the woods, setting up camp, mountains and a lake and no one else around. Then you came along the trail, we got to talking, I reached for your hair and… you touched me back. You touched my face.”

  With two fingers Jamie traced from Kent’s cheekbone to his lips.

  “I think you kissed me. And all of a sudden I was falling, or we were pulling each other down, and I knew we were going to make love somehow. I woke up before anything happened, I just knew you were going to… love me. Man, I soaked those BVDs.”

  Jamie melted.

  “The feelings were so different from how I’ve always felt. Ever since then I couldn’t keep my hands off you.”

  “You are the sweetest, strongest, most caring man I’ve ever met. Tell me how you got here. Start with school.”

  “I was never any good in class, I had to study real hard. My coaches helped me out all the time. Dad used to get after me something fierce. Not like you. You had to be the teacher’s pet I just hated, and was so jealous of.” They smiled; Jamie didn’t deny it. “I drifted in high school, playing ball and having fun; we were worried I’d flunk out of college maybe. But once I got there something finally clicked. I learned how to learn, and then I just wanted to keep on doing it.” Kent opened himself. “Learning’s fun. There’s a joy in it, you know? New worlds open up you never saw before.”

  “Those new worlds are important to country kids.”

  “I lucked out and got this great sociology prof my freshman year, a master teacher. At midterms I got my first A ever. You think Dad and me didn’t get excited about that? An A, in college, when we were scared they were going to toss me out? I got an A!”

  Kent pictured his father’s enthusiasm. “Him and Mom drove down to Bloomington and bought me a steak dinner, so he could show me how proud he was. My Dad didn’t get to go to college, Jamie. He was smart, though. He bought me a beer—even though we’re Methodists and I was underage. He pounded the table and said, ‘Give this man a beer, he’s an A student!’ Gosh, what a fun night.

  “That whole business with school, before then? I was lazy, Jamie. I had a bad attitude I learned from a bunch of dumb jocks—peer pressure I didn’t even recognize. I looked down on smart kids and used sports to coast my way through. Then once I got to IU and I saw how much better the players were, I had to buckle down. And I did, by gosh. Then soch led into criminal justice, and soon I was hot to be the best darn cop on the force someday, like Columbo or something, but smart, educated.”

  “You pack those jeans much better than Columbo.”

  “Glad you noticed.” Jamie threw bread at him. “College was all baseball and hitting the books. As a sophomore I won Big Ten Player of the Year, at the same time rooks finally got bigger contracts; Dad said I should think of turning pro, so I did. Then a year in the bus leagues, living on burgers and TV, waiting to get called up.”

  Jamie’s jaw sagged. His lover played Major League Baseball. Not just some guy he knew; his lover.

  His thighs got very impressed. It’s not just the athletics; it’s the work it takes to get that high. Awesome discipline. Total commitment to become the best.

  No one out-commits you!

  He finally allowed himself to embrace it, and rattled off stats better than Danny could have. “In two years, 77 home runs, 259 RBIs, 352 hits, 72 steals, a .287 batting average your first year, .318 the second. An All-Star, you played the Braves into the World Series!” Jamie’s eyes flashed. Foreplay was now. “You, big, s-tud.”

  Kent was amazed at Jamie’s knowledge, his eyes,his mind. “You make me feel like one.”

  Jamie adjusted himself. “You make me act like a centerfielder.”

  “I want you to.” They were desperate for each other, and in a public place. “Is sex going to be like this?”

  “You’re an athlete, I’m a professional sex symbol. Let’s find out.”

  “Man, those pictures are hot. I want your body.” But if he didn’t chill out, Kent knew he would pop. “After I got hurt I went to the state police academy, got assigned to Bloomington, finished my bachelor’s degree.” Jamie praised him for that. “I got promoted to corporal the first year I was eligible, then the sergeant’s job here; we sold a couple acres Dad willed to me, and I bought me a cabin on the Tippecanoe River.”

  “Will you tell me about the injury sometime? And your father?”

  “Someday soon.” Jamie rubbed Kent’s hand, a small attempt at healing the pain. Kent brought Jamie’s hand to his lips. Its bruises were gone; he kissed where they had been. “You’re what I needed all along to get past it. I didn’t know that until the last two months. Jamie, I saw you working so hard to recover, and it reminded me of someone I knew.

  When you have a big chunk ripped out of your life, you gotta fill it up

  with something.”

  “I know. What has heterosexuality been like for you?”

  “Half-dismal. I’ve wanted love in my life a long, long time. But I never met the right girl, and it ain’t like I didn’t try. I’ve had experiences. They were fun, I guess, but not all that great, and I realized I don’t want just sex. I want love. Sure, I like to poke it, but ain’t it supposed to mean something?”

  “It means something to me.”

  “I almost got engaged once, but she hurt me bad. And there was never much spark there with other women, so I pretty much gave it up. Then Glenn Ferguson’s killed and before I can even get started, in walks the famous CI, who just happens to be the cutest guy on the planet. And zoom, I’m off the hormone chart.”

  “But there are other cute guys out there. Why me?”

  “You’re my little Oliver.”

  Jamie was slowly astonished. Kent said softly, “My beautiful little blondboy, with the heart of gold. The one I’ve been in love with my whole life.”

  Jamie couldn’t speak.

  “You’re openly Gay, don’t hide nothing, put it out there front and center. Which made you available maybe. I’ve never met anyone who did that, Jamie. Man, the courage you have, when Gay people are so hated.

  “I love your personality most of all, you have this strong character, I respect you completely. Gosh, you’re so tough. My Oliver grows up and he’s my crimefighting partner! That’s beyond perfect, Jamie, I couldn’t have dreamed you any better.”

  Jamie kept listening, wholly in love with this man.

  “Your stance challenged me to know where I stand. He likes guys and he don’t care who knows it. It’s right there on his business card, Ohio Gay Times, wanna make something of it?” Kent chuckled, “So I’m thinking about this and talking about hyoid bones at the same time. Branh, mental overload. System error, bombs away. Hit Restart, lose all data.”

  They laughed. “You’re so witty, Kent. I enjoy you every minute.”

  “Do you know how hard it was for me to keep from touching your hair that first day? If you hadn’t been such a pro the way you handled yourself, I’d never have gotten through it. That whole interview it’s all I thought about. Like tonight. Your hair is so beautiful.”

  Ken
t eyed the curtains, realized what they were for; moved over to sit next to his guy. Their thighs touched; Sergeant Kent Kessler of the Indiana State Police reached out, and for the first time, stroked his man’s hair.

  Over and over he traced the pattern across Jamie’s forehead, to the side, the back. The hair was thick and incredibly soft. His touch was so light Jamie floated. Kent’s face filled with wonder. The electricity in Jamie’s body flowed nonstop.

  When the big dark hand came near his face again, he kissed it, long and slow, then held it to his cheek. The smallest of touches contained all the excitement and sexuality and tenderness they felt.

  Kent nuzzled Jamie’s ear. Jamie snuggled, patted Kent’s belly, rubbed great abs. Jamie was queer for abs. “Stud didn’t consider being Gay. I knew when I was 13.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “One day I noticed Logan Gregory’s ass. Then I noticed Chuck O’Hara’s. Then it was Mike Phillips’s crotch. Two’s a coincidence, three’s a pattern. So I read up on the Gay thing; turns out I’m a beneficiary of my elders’ love and self-sacrifice. What American can’t understand a civil rights movement? Is my mother allowed to vote? At 14 I was arrested at my first AIDS protest.”

  “How like you, Jamie.” Kent grinned, “Did you fall for the cop that time too?”

  “She was a nice Black lady who said I should have shouted louder. Man, I’m so proud of you, an enforcer of people’s rights. Kent, there’s no higher calling.”

  “What different paths we’ve taken to meet up. Me doing baseball, a traditional mindless jock. You arrested as a kid, standing up for your beliefs. Take me to a protest sometime? Away from home?”

  “I’d love to. Now talk sex to me, Jocko, so you can get promoted to Double-A. It’s about two men. Neither one plays the woman’s role. We’re two cowboys. You’re Butch Cassidy and I…” Jamie shook out his yellow hair, “am the Sundance Kid.”

  Kent touched himself. “You like that, Sundance?”

  “I like that, Butch, and I’ve got one too.”

  “Guess what I’m wearing, Jocko.”

  “Don’t wanna guess, Jocko. Wanna see. Wanna show you.”

  “You show me yours, Sundance, I’ll show you mine.”

  “Butch, crawl under the table and commit a misdemeanor.”

  “I might arrest you for soliciting, Sunny Boy, an hour from now. Put you in handcuffs. Strip-search you.”

  “Jocko, I’ll make sure you’re not hiding contraband up Uranus.”

  Kent laughed, quit playing, a little threatened; he went back to his story. “I just knew I was different, Jamie. I figured I must not have strong sexual feelings the way other guys do. They talk about how great sex is, and me, I’m just backward, the complete opposite of a sex-crazed athlete. But the night I saw you dance, I had no doubt anymore. I had proof I could be Gay. Maybe I’ve been lying to myself the whole time. I have lots of sexual feelings when you do stuff like that.” Kent patted his abs.

  Then he knew this was the opening he’d been searching for.

  “We’re taught to lie to ourselves.” Jamie sipped champagne. “When did I dance? How does a guy get proof he might be Gay?”

  “It started at the hotel, the first time I saw your body. Supposed to catch a killer and—man, I wanted to slam you down and love you. That’s what you’re built for, Jamie. That’s what you need.”

  Jamie began to glimpse his future sex life too.

  His masculine feelings came from deep inside him. But Kent’s hand on his neck, his opening doors, were masculine too; that’s what made him overpoweringly sexy. Jamie’s strengths were considerable, but this year he’d earned a Ph.D. in vulnerability. He cared for Ricky for five long years. Then when Thelma died, when he got stabbed, he couldn’t pretend anymore that he was invincible. He needed a strong man—and Kent was there for him, every night, fully there. For a man like that Jamie’d happily loosen up; it might be fun to get slammed.

  Then he remembered Kent’s softer side. “It’s what you’re built for, too.”

  “Probably.” Kent didn’t blink. “Let’s find out.”

  “Man, I worship you.”

  That word excited and scared Kent; he went with the excitement. “I didn’t want to catch a killer, I wanted to get naked with you. I wanted to sleep in each other’s arms.”

  “And I ended up with Tommy Ford and Dr. Crumbo instead? Fuck this stabbing crap, someone shoot me!”

  Every laugh put the trauma further behind them; and that called up Kent’s long-delayed confession. “Jamie, things happened that night that I’m never going to discuss with you. It’s a blessing you don’t remember. Please trust me. I’m not filling in any blanks except on a need-to-know basis.”

  “I trust you, Commander.”

  “This you need to know. You danced with a guy at the bar that night, a stranger. I got super-jealous and super-aroused. I creamed my jeans over you, in a public place, when I was on duty to catch a killer.

  “When the scene came down I was in the wrong john trying to clean myself up. I made Lt. Blaney go from place to place to place. I was locked in this stall next to the dance floor, trying to get out of my underwear, and meanwhile you’re out the door. It wasn’t just technology that failed, Jamie. I failed too. Completely derelict of duty. Then to have everything turn out the way it did…”Kent looked away bitterly. “Maybe I’m not such a hero now, huh? Maybe you’ll change your mind about me. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

  He felt total terror. He prayed to Jesus Christ to make Jamie stay.

  “It wasn’t you,” Jamie said, his brow creasing, only glancing at him, then back to the scene, working hard mentally, his breath becoming a little ragged. “I’m sure of that.” His voice came slowly, almost like when he first woke up. “I, was upset, wasn’t I, when we first got there? What, wasn’t right, at the beginning?”

  “Oh, I remember.”

  Jamie’s face contorted. He started panting, nodded. “That’s it, I know it is. This may sound crazy, but my body tells me that’s it. Outside, the little parking lot.”

  “No tail car.”

  “My backup wasn’t there when we arrived! It was never there. That’s why I was on my own, not that you were in the bathroom. Your operation didn’t hang on just one man, you had backup systems built in. But someone was missing. That’s why I was alone! It had nothing to do with your taking a minute in the bathroom. You’ve spent this entire time feeling guilty, but it doesn’t take thirty seconds to get rid of your underwear.”

  Kent stared at an eerie picture.

  “Who was assigned to that spot?”

  Kent raked his fingers through his hair. “Trooper Julie Campbell. My ex-partner.”

  The waiter stirred the drapes to signal them, then brought their salads, half-hoping to find them under the table committing misdemeanors. Jamie dove his nose into red ripe tomatoes.

  “I’m going to have to report this to the major immediately,” Kent said. “I don’t know whether that element was ever debriefed. Maybe nobody knows where she was but her.”

  “You can’t rely on my flashback, it would never stand up in court. I’ve got brain damage.”

  It just popped out, shocked them both, the fact they would never admit to each other. His brain was damaged. Jamie was even a little proud of himself for coming out.

  With his IQ, the worst thing in the world was to have brain damage. The back and the side of his perfect body were nothing compared to that. Scars began to heal. He had a little brain damage, and was recovering.

  “We’ll need more evidence, but she’s going to have some mighty big explaining to do. Why wasn’t she there? Jamie, that was one of the most important jobs in the whole operation, that’s why Campbell was on it. I wanted somebody I knew and trusted to protect you. This man I love? I’m watching you myself on the inside, who else am I going to put on that duty outside? Someone I believed in. She and I used to be close. Not no more. Never again.”

  Kent never forgot th
e “dead homosexual” remark, never would.

  “Close? How close?”

  “Well, um, we dated a few times, double dates with another trooper. Then his kid got sick and he couldn’t afford a babysitter, so we stopped going.”

  “Let me know what the major thinks of all this.”

  “Am I still your Jocko, then?”

  “Try to keep me off you! You don’t come this close, only to run out now. I bond like Superglue and I’m great in bed. One fuck, Jocko, your ass’ll be begging for more.”

  Branh, system error! Kent chuckled, knew it was true, tried to pick up a logical thread. There had to be one somewhere; it wasn’t between his straining legs.“Jamie,I’ve been so scared.I never focused on that car,we were just chasing you in the chopper and—I’ve been worried sick that I failed you; that I ought to be up on charges, ought to have you hate me; and gosh. You’re saving my butt again right now. She should have been there.”

  “You know, copboys in love sometimes give each other any extra tomatoes they might not want.” Jamie sounded twelve years old, begging in some junior high cafeteria for a carton of choco-milk.

  Kent picked up his plate, swiped his fork, deposited his whole salad on top of Jamie’s. They howled and hugged. Then Jamie threw Trooper What’s-her-face and Killer Whoever-he-was out of the booth; there was love to be made, no others allowed.

  But it wasn’t that easy. They had been through a critical incident in very separate ways. Each needed to tell his closest friend, his newfound love, what it was like.

  Jamie said, “There’s one other thing I remember. I prayed, going through all the people I’m close to, telling them I love them. I remember very clearly thinking, ‘I love you, Kent.’ Trying to send you vibes so you’d know.”

  “Maybe I got your vibes. I kissed you that night.” Kent flashed onto the mirror at the hospital, blood on his lips; had to close his eyes. “This stuff’s so hard.We’ve really been through a lot. I wanted you to hang on until I could get you to a doctor.”

  “I watched you do it,” Jamie said, dumbfounded. He shut his eyes tight. “Thanks for kissing me and saving my life. Being there for me this entire time.” He turned away. “I don’t want to think about it. I’m going to concentrate on the fact that you kissed me. That you love me.”