by K. C. Wells
As Jonathon got into the passenger seat, an idea occurred to him. “You do know I’m expecting you to be around this weekend, right?”
Mike squeezed Jonathon’s thigh. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there, as much as I can, at least. I’ve got your back.” He switched on the engine.
Jonathon breathed a little easier. He could cope with a small dose of his father if he had Mike in his corner.
Chapter Nine
JONATHON WAVED Mike off, then headed for the house. He’d taken some photos of a magnificent sunset the previous week, and now that the editing suite was finished, he was itching to work on them. Getting a room ready for his father could wait.
As he drew closer, he spotted a figure sitting on the top front step. Jason Barton was on his phone, lost to the world as he scrolled, his earbuds in place. When Jonathon’s shadow crossed over him, he gave a start, his head jerking up.
“Hey.” Jason pulled the buds from his ears and scrambled to his feet.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Jonathon frowned. “How long have you been sitting out here? You must be chilled to the bone.”
“Your housekeeper said that I could wait inside if I wanted and that you’d be here for lunch. I preferred to stay out here.” Jason tilted his head. “Is it okay for me to visit? I wanted to talk to you on Saturday night, but there was no time at the bonfire party. Since then, I’ve had college.”
“Shouldn’t you be there now?”
Jason smiled. “Wednesday afternoons are for clubs and sports. No classes.”
Jonathon opened the door. “Come on in. And seeing as you’re here now, you might as well stay for lunch. I’m sure Ivy can rustle something up for you.”
“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother,” Jason protested, but then his stomach grumbled and his face flushed.
Jonathon laughed. “That settles it. You’re staying for lunch.” He held the door open for Jason, then stepped inside. “Was there a reason for this visit? Or is it just a social call?”
“I wanted to talk to you about… photography,” Jason said shyly. “It’s something that really interests me. Is that okay?”
“Of course. You can be the first person to see my newly completed studio.” Jonathon let out a wry chuckle. “Which makes it sound a lot grander than it is, I assure you.” He led Jason through the house, and Janet met them at the dining room door.
“I’ve already spoken with Ivy, and I’ve set another place for lunch,” she said with a smile. “It will be ready in half an hour.”
“Thanks, Janet.” Jonathon tugged on Jason’s arm. “That gives us time to look at the studio. Take off your jacket, and I’ll give you the guided tour.”
Jason shrugged off his jacket, and Janet took it. Then Jonathon led the way, guiding him through the rooms.
“This place is huge,” Jason exclaimed. “Do you ever get lost?”
“When I was little, I used to play hide-and-seek with my uncle. Not often, but now and again. Since I’ve come to live here, however, I’ve taken over one wing. The rest of the house is shut up.”
“I can understand that,” Jason said quietly as Jonathon opened the door to the studio. “It can’t be easy, knowing this is the place where he… you know….”
A fragment of a conversation came to mind, and Jonathon gazed thoughtfully at him. “I meant to ask. Are you okay? I forgot, you knew Mrs. Teedle.” For all Jonathon knew, this was Jason’s first brush with death.
Jason stepped into the large room and stared at the walls, where Jonathon had hung some of his favorite photos. “Oh wow. These are amazing.”
Jonathon recognized evasion when he heard it but let Jason take his fill of the prints. He’d chosen a mixture of views, from crumbling ancient ruins in India to the breathtaking color of Ayers Rock against a brilliant blue sky. There were portraits, too, faces that had spoken to him as he’d traveled, capturing the mood of a place. Seeing them all before him made Jonathon long for the time when he could leave England behind again and head for Vietnam as planned.
An easy enough plan but for that silken rope around his heart, keeping him in Merrychurch….
After a few moments of silent contemplation, Jason turned to face Jonathon. “You asked me if I was okay. The truth is… I’m not sure. Kind of. I didn’t really know her all that well, but I’ve been hearing that story of how she delivered me since I was a little boy.”
“Your mother must have been glad she was around that day,” Jonathon commented.
To his surprise Jason’s brows knitted. “That’s the weird thing. I’d have thought so too, but every time I asked her—well, more like begged her—to tell the story, she didn’t seem all that keen. Other people did. My dad. Their friends. The ladies in the WI who pinch my cheek every time they see me and tell me what a beautiful baby I was.”
Jonathon laughed. “I think Women’s Institute ladies are the same all over the country.”
His laughter didn’t ease Jason’s frown, however. “You know, I got the impression Mum didn’t like Mrs. Teedle. Not that she ever said as much. It was more like… a feeling. And then the day after Mrs. Teedle was murdered….” He shivered.
Jonathon went over to him and laid a hand on his arm. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” He guided Jason to the red leather couch against the wall. “Here, sit down.”
Jason complied but didn’t relax, perching on the edge of the cushion instead. “It wasn’t much. Just… a bit of a phone conversation that I overheard. I thought at the time that Mum was talking to Dad. I was coming out of my room and heading downstairs when I heard her. She said, ‘It’s a horrible thing to say, but it’s a huge weight off our shoulders.’ Then she gave this laugh, only it was kind of… weird, almost nervous. ‘Ding, dong, the witch is dead,’ she said. Then she paused, said something about she’d have to see, then bye for now. It was the way she said goodbye that made me think she was talking to Dad. You know how parents talk to each other sometimes and you try not to think about… stuff?”
Jonathon snickered. “Trust me when I say I know what you mean, but my parents? Sentiment was in short supply. I could never imagine how they ever got around to producing me.”
Jason laughed at that. Then he sighed. “Except… it couldn’t have been Dad. A couple of minutes after that, his car pulled into the driveway. And the first thing he did when he got in the house was apologize for not calling her as usual to say he was on his way, only his battery was dead.”
Jonathon knew when evening came, he’d be relating all of this to Mike. It could prove important. But one look at Jason’s strained expression told him a change of topic was in order. “You said you were interested in photography. Do you have any photos you could show me?”
“Now? Really?” Jason’s face lit up.
“Yes, now. I’d love to see them.”
Jason pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and scrolled through. “I’ve got a ton of photos on here. And now you’ve suggested it, it’s difficult to decide which ones to show you.”
“What do you take photos of?”
Jason’s eyes were bright. “Everything. The village, my friends, sunsets, sunrises—you name it.” He held out his phone. “Here’s one I took the night of the bonfire.”
Jonathon gazed at the image. It was of him and Mike, standing by the fire, holding hands, their faces glowing in the light, the two of them caught in a moment where no one else existed. “That’s beautiful,” he said at last.
“Seriously?” Jason gazed at him earnestly. “Coming from you, that… that means a lot.”
The hairs on the back of Jonathon’s neck stood on end. There was something in the air, an electric current that teased his skin, in anticipation of… what? Jonathon had no idea but knew with all of him that there was more to come.
His phone buzzed. Jonathon peered at the screen and laughed. “There you go. In the past when a meal was ready in this house, there was a gong. Now? I get a text.” He held up Janet’s message: Lunch is ready wh
en you are.
Jason laughed. “I like it.” He pocketed his phone and followed Jonathon back to the dining room.
Jonathon was content to wait until after they’d eaten to see if anything else was forthcoming. He had a feeling Jason’s motivation for this visit was more than just an interest in photography.
“WILL THERE be anything else, sir?” Janet asked as she cleared away the plates. “Apart from coffee, of course.”
Jonathon smiled. “I don’t think so. Tell Ivy that pie was delicious.”
“God, it was mega,” Jason added. “Steak-and-kidney is my favorite.”
Janet beamed at him. “Glad you enjoyed it. Would you like a coffee too? Or there’s orange juice, apple juice, mineral water….”
“Apple juice would be great.” As Janet left the room, softly closing the door behind her, Jason sagged into his chair. “Your cook is amazing.”
“Ivy? She’s a treasure.” Jonathon leaned back, content. “And it was nice to have company.”
“Mr. Tattersall must visit you a bit.” Jason’s cheeks pinked a little. “I mean, what with you and he….”
Jonathon sighed. “It’s difficult. He has the pub to run, after all. We try to grab all the moments we can.” He took in Jason’s keen gaze, his still-flushed cheeks, and the way he worried his lower lip with his teeth. Jason was a gorgeous young man, with dark brown hair, short at the sides but longer on top where it curled a little. His most striking feature had to be those green eyes.
He’s going to break a lot of hearts.
In that instant Jonathon had a burst of clarity, and his heart went out to Jason. Oh. I think I know what it is you want to talk about.
Janet entered with a pot of coffee, a cup and saucer, a milk jug, and a tall glass of juice. After placing them on the table, she withdrew.
Jonathon poured himself a cup and handed the glass to Jason. “You know we mentioned parents briefly? Well, when I was your age, I lived in a large house. Not as large as this one, but definitely on the grand side.”
“I can understand that. Your family goes way back, doesn’t it?” Jason sipped his juice.
“You could say that,” Jonathon said with a wry smile. “I didn’t ever think I’d end up living here. I love the house, the village… but in some ways, it means my life isn’t my own. Other people… expect things of me.” He wasn’t sure if he’d chosen the right tack, but he wanted to see where it led.
“Like what?” Jason asked with a faint frown.
“Take my father for instance. He expects me to carry on the family line. Now I’m getting on in years—and before you ask, I’ll be twenty-nine soon, which to you is pretty ancient, I’m sure—but—”
Jason spluttered apple juice over the tablecloth. “Sorry,” he said, wiping his chin with his napkin.
Jonathon chuckled. “I still remember what it was like to be seventeen. But back to my father. He wants me to get married and produce the next little de Mountford. Which is where we hit a snag.”
Jason’s eyes widened. “Does… does he know you’re gay?”
Jonathon nodded calmly, his eyes focused on Jason.
“And… how does he feel about that?”
“I think you can guess,” Jonathon said dryly.
“Can I ask you something?” Jason paused and took a long drink of juice. “How did he react when you first told him you were gay?”
Jonathon sighed. “Like I’d just said something in a foreign language that he didn’t understand.” He looked closely at Jason. “Not all parents are like my father, thankfully. Mike’s, apparently, have no problem with him being gay. I haven’t met them yet,” he added, “but I’m not worried. I do get why so many kids are scared to tell their family. It’s a scary thing to do, right? But I also believe you do get a sense of how things will work out, especially if you have a good relationship with your parents.” He fell silent and drank his coffee. It was up to Jason now.
Jason stared into his glass. “Yeah. You can tell if they’re going to be assholes about it.” He jerked his head up, his eyes large. “Oh. Sorry.”
“I’ve heard worse,” Jonathon told him with a wave of his hand.
Jason took another drink, then straightened in his chair. “I suppose it’s easier to… come out if you have someone to talk to who understands how you feel.”
“You tell me.” Jonathon locked gazes with him. “Does it feel easier?” His heartbeat sped up a little.
Jason blinked, and then a smile gradually blossomed. “Yeah, it does,” he said softly. He tilted his head. “How did you know?”
Jonathon chuckled. “Sometimes you get a sense for these things. Some call it gaydar. It can be very useful, especially when there’s someone you’re interested in and you have no idea whether making a move will earn you a kiss—or a smack in the mouth. And yes, there will be occasions when you’ll get it wrong.” He smiled. “Is there someone?”
Jason’s cheeks appeared flushed. “Not yet. I’ve had a crush on one or two guys, but nothing serious. Enough to realize girls don’t do it for me.”
“Okay. Now for the important bit.” Jonathon leaned forward. “You don’t have to come out. That’s your decision, all right? It’s no one’s business but yours. But… if you ever want to talk about stuff, my door is always open. Anytime.”
Jason heaved a relieved sigh. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
An idea occurred to him. “I was going to spend some time in the studio this afternoon, working on some new photos. Would you like to stay? I could show you some of my equipment.” He grinned. “Okay, that sounds really creepy, and not the way I meant it at all. Let’s try that again. You could play around with my filters.”
Jason laughed. “That would be cool.” He finished his juice, pushed back his chair, and stood.
On impulse, Jonathon rose to his feet, walked over to him, and gave him a brief hug. “It’ll be fine,” he said reassuringly, hoping the mayor of Merrychurch would react favorably to his son’s news—whenever he chose to deliver it.
“I’M GLAD Jason came to talk to you,” Mike said as he undressed.
It was past midnight, but Jonathon was wide-awake, lying in his bed, awaiting Mike’s arrival. Mike carefully removed his prosthetic foot and placed it on the floor beside the bed. It was a practice that seemed commonplace after these last months. Mike pulled back the sheets, climbed in, and shifted across the mattress to where Jonathon lay, his arms wide.
“Me too. I wish I’d had someone like me around when I came out—if that makes any sense.” Jonathon wrapped his arms around Mike and held him close. “And that means he can talk to you too. We come as a package deal.”
Mike smiled against his chest, gently rasping the skin with his beard. “Does that mean we come together?”
Jonathon let out a soft chuckle at Mike’s play on words. “I think if we put our minds to it, we could achieve anything. It might take a few tries.” He spread his legs slightly, knowing Mike would recognize the motion as an invitation. Jonathon couldn’t think of a more perfect way to end the day.
“Practice makes perfect, they say, so let’s start right now.” Mike reached up and switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. “I think I’ll start… here.”
Jonathon gave a low moan as Mike’s tongue found its target. “No arguments from me.”
Chapter Ten
Thursday, November 9
“DO YOU want that last piece of toast?” Jonathon asked in a nonchalant manner.
Apparently there was no fooling Mike. “D’you mean that piece you’re already dying to smother in my mango-and-peach jam?”
Damn it. “If you want it, have it,” Jonathon said resignedly. He didn’t recall there being anything about love that meant giving up the last bit of toast, but then again, how would he know? This was his first time dipping his toes into that particular pool, and so far, the water was lovely.
Apart from the whole giving-up-the-last-piece-of-toast part.
Mike pic
ked up the toast rack and passed it to him. “Here. I’ve had plenty.” Then he poured another cup of coffee. “What are your plans for today?”
Jonathon had been thinking about that since he’d woken up. Jason’s words from the previous day lingered in his mind. “I think I’d like to pay a visit to the mayor’s wife.”
“Is this you checking out why she was near the cottage that day, or because of what young Jason said?”
“Well, you have to admit, that was a bit strange. And it does bring a couple of ideas to mind.” Until Jason’s visit, Jonathon had never really entertained the idea that the mayor’s wife was a likely suspect, but now? It was a possibility.
“Like, she’s having an affair and they could have had something to do with the murder? Because that was what came to my mind.”
Jonathon smiled. “Good to know we’re on the same page.”
“Yeah—and it’s headed ‘suspicious,’” Mike added with a grin. “Make sure you don’t go ruffling the mayor’s feathers, okay? And I take it you won’t be mentioning the rest of Jason’s conversation?”
“God, no.” Jonathon was still honored that Jason had confided in him.
Whatever else he’d been about to say fled from his mind when there was a light tapping at the french doors. Jonathon glanced across and smiled. “Ben must want something.” He got up, went over to the windows, and unbolted the door. “Good morning. Would you like to join us for coffee?”
Ben touched his cap. “Thanks for the offer, but I already got a flask of coffee with me. I’m only here to tell you I need to do some work on the pond. There’s a problem with the filter.”
“Can you fix it or do I need to call someone in?”
Ben smiled. “’Course I can fix it. An’ if it needs a new filter, I’ll let you know.”
“Ben?” Mike called out. “You got a minute?” Seconds later he was at Jonathon’s side. “You know those people you saw on Sunday morning? Can I ask if any of them regularly walk that way?”
