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fufaraw
Master Post | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 + Author Notes
* * *
Jared glanced at his watch, and was surprised to realize two hours had passed. Time flies, he grinned wryly, picking up his beer to finish and get ready to leave, when Jason was suddenly at his side, slapping him on the back. Jared turned and met his broad, happy grin. "Hey man!" Jason greeted him. "So, what'd you think?"
Jared couldn't help answering with his own wide smile. "Dude, you guys are awesome! What are you doing here in a small-town bar? You ought to be doing this for a living!"
Jason grinned, but shook his head. "Nah, man. This is just for fun." He clapped a hand on Jared's shoulder and inclined his head toward the table by the stage where the band was gathered, kicking back over their beers. "Hey, come meet the guys."
Jared pulled back a little, and shook his head. "No, hey, you just go on and have a good time with your friends, there. I'm about to pack it in and head home."
"Back to your lonely motel room, you mean?" Jason scoffed. "That's no fun. Come on," he insisted. "Come have a drink with the band. You need to meet some people."
Jared cast a look at the men gathered around the table, laughing and talking. He wasn't sure he'd be welcome. "They look like they're having a good time, Jason. I don't want to intrude."
"Would you stop? It's not intruding if you've been invited. Pick up your beer and get your ass in gear. Come meet the band." Jason's hand on his shoulder all but pushed him the length of the room, until he was standing beside the band's table. They all looked up at him, and Jason did the introductions. "Guys, this is Jared, our new deputy, coming to us from the big city LA Pee Dee."
"Hi guys, nice set," Jared smiled.
"Chris, Adrian, Jensen, and Steve," Jason mentioned each man's name as Jared shook hands. "Adrian's a deputy, too. You guys'll probably be patrolling together some."
"Hey," Jared nodded. "Nice to meet you." Steve was the one with curly blond hair to his shoulders, Jensen was the winner of the pool game, and Chris was the chef.
"Pull up a chair, son," Chris said, blue eyes twinkling. "I remember you. You were at the cafe the other night."
Jared nodded. "I sure was. Man, that was some meal."
"Oh, don't," Jensen mock-grimaced. "His head is big enough as it is."
Chris punched him in the shoulder. "Philistine. You don't appreciate food." Jensen just laughed.
"What do you do, Jensen?" Jared wondered.
"CPA. Tax work, boring, ordinary accounting stuff." He grinned.
"Yeah," Adrian chuckled. "This is how he gets his freak on, though. Right Jensen? Playing wild man with the band."
"Oh, now Jensen never gets too wild." The guitarist with the long blond hair brought a round of beer, long-necked bottles tucked between his fingers, and handed them out around the table.
"Steve, right?" Jared accepted the one offered to him. "Jason mentioned you cook for the bar?"
Steve nodded, blond curls stirring at the movement. "Yeah, sometimes. Mostly I just play around with different things until I like the result, and then post the recipes where the regular kitchen staff can follow them. And try to get Sam to make them actually follow the recipes, at least some of the time." Steve turned a chair back to front and straddled it, knocking the back of Chris' chair as he did so, and then he asked Jared, "What'd you think?"
"Man, I never had bar food that good," Jared grinned reminiscently. What did you put on those sliders? They were awesome."
Adrian groaned. "Stop, dude, stop. You're just gonna get both of those two cranked up over food wars again!"
Jensen chuckled, sipping on his beer and side-eyeing first Steve and then Chris. Jason watched them both solemnly and then turned to Jared. "It's an ongoing argument--who's the best cook." He took a swig of beer and nodded sagely.
"Chef," Chris corrected, and Steve nodded agreement.
"Yeah, man. Food's important."
He exchanged a grin with Chris, who then added, "But Steve's real job is repairing and restoring case instruments--violins, guitars. And he builds new ones."
"I'm a luthier," Steve agreed.
"When the two of them aren't writing songs," Jason said.
"Oh, you're one to talk," Jensen chimed in, looking directly at Jared. "Jason writes songs, too, don't let him tell you different."
Jason kicked playfully at Jensen's boot, where his leg was crossed over the other knee. "Like you don't," the deputy said.
Jared turned to Adrian. "And do you write music, too?"
Adrian shouted a laugh, and the rest of them joined in. "Naw, man. I just play bass and sing backup." The conversation turned to something else. "Have you met Jeff?" Adrian wanted to know.
Jared nodded. "I got into town on Wednesday, and I met him then. That's when Jason and I met, too. Jeff seems like a pretty nice guy." Jared couldn't deny he was fishing a little, trying to get some information on his boss, to know him better before he started, and maybe did something by accident to put him on Jeff's bad side.
"Yeah, Jeff's fair, but he's tough when he has to be."
"Not so tough when it comes to Sam," Jason said.
Jared looked around the table, seeking clarification. "What does that mean?"
"Oh," Steve said. "Sam's his wife. And she does a pretty good job of keeping him in line." He ducked as a hand swatted across the back of his head.
"I heard that," Sam said, a tray of fresh bottles in her hand. She picked up empties and handed out the fresh round. And though Steve cringed, just a little, when she grinned at him, nothing else was said. Sam patted Steve on the shoulder before she moved off with her tray of empties to pick up a few more on her way back to the bar.
"Ah." Sam's comment about living with a cop made sense, now. "That must come in handy, keeping the peace in here."
"Nah," Chris offered. "Not really. I mean, people knowing the owner's husband is the sheriff might help keep the rowdiness down, some. But it's not like Sam needs the department's help with that."
"Right," Adrian agreed. "She's pretty tough, all on her own."
"She runs a nice bar," Jared had no trouble admitting that. He took another swallow of his beer, and thought about calling a taxi to get home. He hadn't planned to drink more than one beer tonight. He was a little lost in thought when Jason spoke.
"So, did Lauren find you a house?"
"Oh, are you looking for a house?" Adrian asked. "Cool! Barbecues and house parties, right? Here we come!"
"Now, hold on, son," Chris admonished. "The man's barely set foot in town. We don't want to be imposin' before we're even asked." Christian fixed Jared with a quizzical eye and waited for his response.
Jared took a beat before he grinned. "Mi casa, su casa?" He shrugged before he added, "I guess?"
Chris rocked back in his chair and laughed, and the rest of them laughed along with him. "Naw, man. We'll let you get settled in, at least. Did you decide on a place, yet?"
"Well, I've only seen three or four houses," Jared told them. "A couple of them were just--in neighborhoods full of minivans and kids, and I don't know if that's me." He glanced around the table, but all of them seemed to understand what he meant. A couple of them nodded understanding. "We're going to look at a couple more places tomorrow. But there was this one place..."
"Where is it?" Jensen prodded, since Jared left his sentence unfinished.
"Oh, out on Larch Lane?" he replied. "It's back off the street, and there's more landscaping than I'm used to. But I think I like it."
"The old Vernon place?" Adrian asked. "I've never been inside the house, but from the outside it looks pretty cool."
Jared nodded, and took another swallow of beer. "It's glass and wood and stone," he offered. "I grew up in the suburbs, and I was just expecting another split level or rambler. This one's different. Open, but not huge."
"Sounds nice," Jason offered. "You gonna need help moving in?"
"Well, like I said, there's more houses to look at tomorrow, but I'm thinking they're going to have to be something special to beat the--what did you call it? The Vernon house?"
"Yeah," Chris nodded. "The guy who built it was an engineer or something. He traveled a lot. But he designed the house, and the landscaping, and he kept it up himself."
"He died a while back," Steve added. "I'd have thought the estate would try to sell that house, rather than rent. But if you like it, then I hope you get it. Like Jason said, you need help moving in?"
"Maybe in a few weeks," Jared replied. "I stored some stuff at my parents'. But I'm going to have to go furniture shopping. I didn't keep--" He took a quick swallow of beer to cover the hitch in his voice. "I don't have anything. I need to start from beds and tables and chairs."
A grin broke across Jensen's face. "You need to go see Beth," he said, and Chris nodded agreement.
"Who's Beth?" Jared looked from one face to the other.
"She runs a store just off Main." Jason was the first to answer. "Furniture, lamps, dishes, pots and pans, all that stuff."
"Plus some art, and even clothing. You know, antique, and vintage stuff." Jensen added.
"I'm pretty sure antiques are beyond my budget," Jared admitted.
"Oh, she does stock some antiques," Chris said. "And she also does searches for people who want a piece in a certain style. Sometimes one of the auction houses in the city asks her to keep an eye open for certain pieces. But a lot of what she has is vintage or newer, just used or secondhand. She can help you furnish your place, and for a lot less than new stuff."
"And I guarantee," Jensen added. "It'll look and feel a whole lot more like your space than if you buy a whole furniture store showroom and bring it home." He got up to bring another round of beer.
A murmur of agreement went around the table. Adrian opened his bottle and said, "And when you've picked out your stuff, you have all of us to help you bring it home and set it up." He lifted his beer to Jared, and the other guys followed suit.
"Well, thanks." Jared was a little surprised, and somewhat overwhelmed. It was kind of early, in his experience, to be adopted by folks in a new town. It must have been the beer making everybody so friendly. He grinned a little at his explanation. It was far too soon to be accepted this easily into a ready-made group of friends. Wasn't it?
* * *
Neither of the houses Lauren showed him Sunday afternoon appealed as much as the Vernon house, and she smiled as if she'd expected it when he told her he wanted it.
"I do know that the estate would eventually like to sell it," she said, pulling up at the curb in front of her office. "But they'll be sure to give me lots of advance notice before they put it on the market." She slanted a birdlike glance up at him from under her bangs. "Who knows? If you decide to settle here, you might just want to buy it yourself."
At his blank expression of surprise, and possibly a little dismay--he hadn't given a thought to owning property, after all--she smiled. "But that's well in the future. For now, we'll just set up the rental, and let you get moved in."
On the sidewalk, he asked, "How long will that take? I mean, how soon will I be able to move in?"
"I can imagine you're getting a little tired of the motel," she sympathized. "Stop by the office tomorrow afternoon, and we'll get the papers signed, do a credit check, all that stuff. It shouldn't take long. And if everything's okay--and I don't know any reason why it wouldn't be--you should have the keys by Friday. Maybe sooner," she promised, holding out a hand. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Jared shook hands, and thanked her. Since he had no other plans, he headed for his truck, parked a couple of spaces away. But he really wasn't ready to go back to his motel room, he realized. He didn't want to spend the evening alone. For lack of anything better to do, he walked down the sidewalk, glancing into shop windows. Most were closed on a Sunday evening, but the card shop and a couple of clothing and shoe stores were open, as well as a bright-lit pharmacy. All the stores had customers; evidently late weekend shopping must make it worthwhile for the stores to be open on Sunday night. He turned a couple of corners, just exploring the town, and doing a little window shopping along the side streets. He came to a stop before a broad stretch of square-paned windows, above which gold painted letters across the front of the store spelled "Gallimaufry". A hand-painted sign swung from a curly iron bracket above the door, the name of the shop repeated in cursive script.
He peered through the glass at the dimly lit vignettes. In one window was a small writing desk of well polished wood, the kind that had pigeonholes and tiny drawers, and a pull out surface for writing. There was a flowered china inkwell and a matching pen tray on the desk, with a leather-bound book, weighted open with a large round brass-framed magnifying glass. A feather quill shared a china mug with vintage fountain pens, and a silver letter opener shaped like a sword, with ornate engraving on the blade, lay on top of a couple of opened envelopes with foreign-looking stamps, and folded pages spilling out of the envelopes. A delicate wooden chair with some sort of needlework seat was drawn up to the desk. The scene looked like a room from a century ago, possibly even earlier. The furniture looked authentic, from what little Jared knew. It was an entire scene, like a stage set. Jared smiled at the care and detail of the arrangement, and gave his attention to the next window.
The scene had an Oriental type rug on the floor, in shades of red, tan, blue, and black. There was a wingback chair, covered in some tapestry-like fabric, with a woven coverlet draped casually over the chair back. A tooled leather hassock offered a place for tired feet, and a table beside the chair was set with a silver tray, on which was a cut crystal decanter and a delicate stemmed glass. Another leather-bound book was laid open over the arm of the chair, as though the reader had only just stepped away for a moment. Jared smiled to himself; he wouldn't have been surprised to see a calabash pipe in an ashtray on the table, with smoke curling upward. This scene looked like a corner of the sitting room from the old PBS Sherlock Holmes series.
But it was the third window that attracted Jared. A chair crafted of smooth, dark wood, with leather cushions, and a footstool obviously made to match it, sat on a rug woven with a geometric design. The chair looked ample, even for Jared's six-foot-five, and very comfortable. The polished dark surface of a simple, sturdy table gleamed in the downlight of a lamp with a heavy bronze base and a wide umbrella of a glass shade. The shade was painted with some sort of woodland scene that glowed from the light within. That was the sort of thing he would like for his living room, Jared thought. Not that he could ever afford it, but it was a place to start. He suspected this shop was the one that Jason and Chris had mentioned, Beth's place. He peered past the window furnishings into the gloom of the shop, the interior lit only with a couple of weak fluorescents along the back wall. There were rolling racks full of hanging clothes, and bookshelves full of books. It looked like the kind of place he might spend hours in, just for the books alone. He made a note of the shop's location, because he definitely planned to come back when it was open, and explore inside.
He wandered on, and rounding another corner, back now on Main, he saw that Kane's Cafe was open too, on a Sunday night. His stomach rumbled--and he grinned a little at the Pavlovian response--and headed for the blue door.
He saw Jensen as soon as he stepped inside, seated in the same booth as before. He was sitting by himself tonight, and he looked up as Jared walked in, and waved Jared over.
"Hey. Good to see you again."
"Hey Jensen, good to see you too." Jared smiled and turned to follow the hostess to an empty table.
"Hey, Lanie," Jensen spoke to her. "Why don't you bring us another setting, and Jared will join us? That okay with you, Jared?"
Jared blinked. There were two empty places set, but there was room for another.
"I don't want to intrude--"
"Nah, no such thing. You need to meet more people. Have a seat," Jensen urged, and Jared slid into the booth facing Jensen. Lanie was back in moments with a roll of flatware, a water glass, and a pitcher of ice water. "Are you guys ready to order?" she asked, filling their glasses.
"Give us a little time, would you? Aldis and Beth are coming."
"Sure thing, hon," she smiled, and moved away to check on diners at other tables.
"Aldis and Beth?" Jared asked.
"Friends of mine. Chris'...um, significant others," Jensen said, with a little grin. "Do they still say 'significant other'?"
Jared took a beat before answering. "I...guess? You mean, he's...with both of them...?" He left the question dangling, sipping at his water to cover his awkwardness. He didn't know which questions to ask, and what subjects to leave alone.
"Yeah. They're together. It seems to work." Jensen smiled broadly, and glanced around the restaurant. "They should be here soon. Aldis had a late shift, and Beth was going to run by the hospital and pick him up."
"Hospital?" Jared picked up the menu, and glanced at the entrees.
"Aldis is a trauma doctor, he works in the ER." The door opened, to admit the tall black man and the blonde woman Jensen had been sitting with the last time Jared was at Kane's. Jensen smiled in greeting. "Here they are."
They came straight to the booth, and Jensen said, "Hello, beautiful," as Beth leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before settling on the bench next to Jared.
"Don't I get a hello?" Aldis asked, sliding in next to Jensen, and sending a glance across the table at Jared.
"Of course you do, gorgeous," Jensen offered up a cheek to be kissed, playing up the compliment with a grin. "What's going on with you guys? Everything okay?"
Beth smiled, and Aldis nodded. "More or less," he said. He seemed tired, but his smile broadened to include Jared. "Who do we have here?"
"This is Jared," Jensen introduced him. "Be nice. He's Jeff's new deputy."
"Do we have to be nice?" Beth snuggled up against Jared, linking her arm through his, and batting her eyes at him. "What if we don't like him? Can we be mean, if we don't like him?"
"Well," Jensen said, grinning at her. "Chris likes him. So, maybe you can judge by that."
"Oh," Aldis spoke up. "Chris likes him, huh? Like that's a ringing endorsement."
"Does he talk?" Beth made wide eyes at Jensen, before she turned back to Jared and pinched his arm.
"Ow!" Jared jumped, more in surprise than the pain of the pinch.
"He does talk!" Beth gloated. "Tell us about yourself, Jared."
"What are you guys gonna order tonight?" Chris was standing by the end of the table, grinning at Beth and Jared. "Don't let her walk all over you, son. You're a big boy, stand up for yourself."
"Hey, Chris," Jared smiled, a little in relief. "What's good tonight?"
"Oh, now you've done it," Aldis said, raising his hands and shaking his head in mock consternation. He mouthed along with the words coming out of Chris' mouth--all three of the friends did.
"What are you talking about, 'what's good?' It's all good! I don't make stuff that ain't good!"
"Right, right," Jared hurried to say. "I apologize for impugning your kitchen. How about, 'what would you recommend?'"
There was more teasing and trash talk, with Jared in the middle of it and gradually relaxing enough to give as good as he got. He liked these people, and he liked the way they were with each other, and how easily they made room for him in their circle. Maybe, he smiled to himself, watching Aldis reach across the table to thumb a fleck of salad dressing off Beth's cheek, Middlebrook was going to be a good change for him, after all.
Dinner came, with wine to accompany it, and everything was consumed with relish and appreciation. When Jared tried to pick up the check, Lanie told him it was already taken care of. They all parted ways on the sidewalk, after Christian walked out with them to see them off, Beth and Aldis headed toward their car. Jensen's car was parked in the same direction as Jared's truck, so the two of them walked together until they reached the car.
"I'm glad you joined us, Jared. We'll have to do it again, sometime soon."
"Thanks for inviting me. It was a good evening." He patted his comfortably full stomach. "And a fantastic meal."
They said their good nights, and Jensen drove off. Jared walked the couple of blocks back to his truck. The storefronts were all dark, now. His was the only vehicle parked along the street. Jared drove back to the motel, smiling to himself over his evening, and new friends, and full of anticipation for his first day on the job tomorrow.
* * *
Jared recognized the numerals on the unit as it rolled up to the scene, and he was across the grass and pulling Raul into his arms almost before Travis had the unit in park. He wound his arms tight around his husband, and felt Raul's holding him just as tight. Raul looked up, his eyes bright, his smile wide, and took a breath to say something clever.
"Gun!" someone shouted, a half-second before the shattering sound of the shot. Jared's eyes went wide as he scanned the scene for the shooter. Raul's expression was one of surprise.
"What--? JT?" his voice was a little ragged, and Jared glanced down at him in concern, as his arms were taxed with more and more of Raul's weight. Jared staggered, realizing Raul's legs weren't holding him up any more.
"Raul? Baby, what--?" The expression of pain and sorrow on his husband's face finally made sense.
"Raul! No!" Jared bolted upright in his bed, eyes streaming tears, arms aching from a burden snatched from him, unwilling. He buried his face in his hands, and didn't even try to stop the storm of tears. He fell back into the pillows, and let himself sob until he slept.
* * *
Broken sleep meant Jared had an extra cup of coffee and pretended to have more energy than he felt on his first day as a Middlebrook Sheriff's deputy. The day involved meeting his fellow deputies and the department staff, paperwork, getting fitted for uniforms, paperwork, qualifying with regulation firearms, and yet more paperwork. He sat at the desk temporarily assigned him and answered questions about his health and prior insurance claims on his new health insurance policy.
He met deputies Danay Garcia and Caroline Chikezie, both with a no-nonsense air about them. Caroline went with Jared to the gun range and fired some rounds, just for practice. She was a better shot than him, with her service revolver.
Jake Abel was the last deputy Jared met, coming on duty as Jared and Caroline got back from the firing range. Jared hoped Jake just appeared young for his age, because he looked barely out of his teens. He was lean and moved well, in good physical shape, and he looked Jared over, practiced, despite his apparent youth, in sizing people up. "Glad to meet you, Jared," he shook hands. "Next time we get a drunk and disorderly call about Reuben," he grinned. "We'll let you go in first."
Everybody within hearing chuckled, and Caroline let Jared in on the joke. "Reuben's the town problem child. He's bigger than your average bear, and he's got a temper." She leaned back and gave Jared a frank once-over. "I think you could take him."
"Well, thanks," Jared laughed. "I may call for backup, though."
"Anytime, honey," Danay raised her eyebrows, flirting way over the top.
"Jared," Jeff's voice caught all their attention. "How're you settling in? Getting to know everybody?"
Before Jared could answer, Jeff went on. "Danay, you behave. Don't go scaring the boy right off the bat."
The deputy batted her lashes at Jared, and turned to mock-pout at Jeff. "He's too big for little old me to scare." She scooped up a set of car keys from her desk, and walked past Jared, giving him a pat on the arm. "Besides, I have to go patrol now. I'll see you later, guys."
Jeff grinned as she walked away. "And don't go drag-racing that cruiser!" he told her.
She snorted, "As if!" as the glass door swung shut behind her.
Jeff brought Jared into his office and gave him a little background on each of the other deputies, went over the schedule he'd be on for the first couple of weeks, what his duties were, things Jeff wanted him to pay particular attention to. He suggested they go get lunch, and as they walked outside, Jeff paused by an SUV with the department's paint job and logo.
"Dude, I think you're too tall to ride all shift in one of the sedans. I'm going to put you in one of these. We're phasing out the cruisers, anyway. These are more practical. It's just a budget issue, buying these and selling off the sedans." Jared nodded, relieved that he'd be using the larger vehicle. He knew from experience that shifts in the sedans often were uncomfortable for someone of his height. They walked down to a sandwich shop. Jeff introduced him to Christie Laing, the owner, when they ordered, and they went to the park again and sat on a bench to eat.
The afternoon was spent filling out more paperwork, and after Jared handed the last of it, at least for today, to Merrilyn, the office manager, he knocked on Jeff's door. "Anything else I need to be doing this afternoon? If not, I need to go sign some papers on my house."
Jeff glanced at his wristwatch, and stretched his arms back over his head. "Naw, Jared. I think you're done for today." He dropped his arms and smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Jared tossed a goodbye at Caroline and Jake and Merrilyn as he walked toward the doors. In the vestibule, he ran into Jason and Adrian, just coming on duty.
"So, how'd your first day go?" Adrian asked.
Jared worked the fingers of his right hand. "I didn't die of writer's cramp," he grinned. "But it was a near thing."
The guys laughed as they turned to go down to the locker room, and Jared crossed the street to Lauren's office to make his rental official.
Jared rode with each of the other deputies, and even some days with Jeff, learning the town, and the people, and the simmering feuds, generations-old arguments over property lines, easements, rights of way, or a thwarted love when a great-aunt married someone other than her intended. Such things were history, Jared knew. But they colored the present too, possibly more in a small community than in a larger city, and the long-held resentments easily kindled acts of spite and revenge. Every community had such history, and it was prudent for law enforcement to be aware of it, so the individuals involved could be counted, or eliminated, when somebody broke the law.
He met some of the brighter lights of the community, the new pastor, Ben Martin, of the local church, and Denalda Williams, who ran the public library. Most people were glad to meet him, and welcomed him to town. He supposed he'd run into the darker, less welcoming crowd as he settled into his job.
He was able to move into the Vernon house on Wednesday after signing the papers, and realized he had nothing to sit on, no bed to sleep in. He hit the camping department of the Home Depot on the outskirts of town and bought a pad and a sleeping bag, and called it home until his first day off.
He made a beeline for Gallimaufry, and the expected bell chimed as he stepped inside. "Hi, Jared!" Beth's blonde ponytail bobbed as she hurried forward to hug him. "It's good to see you."
"You too," Jared grinned. He quickly scanned the interior, taking in the range of items the store offered. "This is a great place."
"Why thank you," she beamed. "Is there something special I can help you find today?"
So he told her about the house. She looked a little puzzled when he said he hadn't brought any furniture at all from his old place, but she sympathized with the lack of chairs, a table, and a bed.
"Let's see what we can find for you!" she chirped, heading toward a back corner of the store.
They prowled through the furniture she had on offer, but after getting an idea of his taste, she made a suggestion.
"Jared, I don't want to seem pushy--I mean, I know I am pushy, I just don't want to seem that way." She grinned at him, dimple in her right cheek. "Would it be okay with you if I saw the space?"
He regarded her somewhat blankly, and she explained.
"I can get a better idea of the size and," she made an expansive gesture with both hands. "The style of pieces that would work, if I saw where they were going to live."
He had some initial difficulty thinking of furniture "living" anywhere, but he had to admit there was some logic to her process. "Sure," he agreed. "Let me offer you lunch at the house." He grinned back at her. "We'll have to eat standing, though. Maybe it will help inspire you."
She stalked around the living room and dining area, armed with a tape measure and an old-fashioned paper pad and pencil.
"Do you plan to paint?" she asked at one point, her attention on a patch of sunlight that was climbing the white-painted wall.
"Uh, no?" Jared answered. "Should I?"
"Oh no, I just wondered. If you ever did, what color do you think..?"
He hadn't ever really given it any thought. "I guess, I've always liked white," he said, finally, and she made a note on her pad.
"Let me buy you ice cream," she offered, having finished with measuring the bedrooms. "And we'll talk."
And that was how Jared came to have simple reproduction Craftsman-styled armchairs and an ottoman with leather cushions, a sofa in a later, but still simple, style, with sturdy tables located conveniently. And a dining table and chairs that looked as though they'd been designed for the space positioned by the glass wall, with a pendant light that he was becoming quite fond of hanging above the table. There were sturdy lamps here and there, inexpensive, but chosen for shape and function. The whole room warmed after dark in the lamplight. There was a console table Beth was holding for him, which would be perfect beside the front door, and a few other pieces he wanted, when he was able to afford them. In the meantime, he'd gone to a bedding store in a strip mall outside the nearest larger town. He spent next to nothing on a plain metal bed frame, putting the money he saved on a quality mattress large enough that he could stretch out and not hang his toes off the bed. The bedroom decor could wait, as could the spare room, as long as he had a comfortable place to sleep.
His next purchases, though, were going to be from the outdoor center at Home Depot--a table and chairs for the deck, and then a grill. He was pleased with the way Beth had put the furniture and decor into place. It felt comfortable, almost as if the house had been waiting for the right furnishings, and as though everything together kind of reflected who he was, or at least, who he wanted to be. It suited him, it fit. It was already starting to feel like home.
He took a deep breath, and called his mom, and arranged for her to ship the rest of his clothes, the books and things he had stored at his parents' house when he moved out of their-- out of the condo in LA.
* * *
People were absolute shits, sometimes. Jared choked back bile and the urge to puke as he and Adrian examined the crime scene. The victim was a seven-year-old brown paint gelding, not that you could tell much about the original coat color, with all the blood. A lot of it had soaked into the ground, where it was scuffed and torn up. Once down, the animal had paddled in agony until death mercifully took it. Jake and Caroline brought out the work lights when Jared called in, and he and Adrian set them up at roughly four points around the scene, to shed as much light as possible. The vet on call for the department stooped, used his flashlight and scribbled notes before he squatted in another place and wrote some more. Caroline used the ME's camera to take photographs as the vet directed, "Get that area above the chest," flash, "and the tears along the neck." flash Doc Beaver stood and beckoned to Jared and Adrian.
"You boys, help me roll 'im."
"What?" Jared faltered.
"I need to check for wounds on the other flank, deputy. I need to have him rolled."
"You got enough photos of the ground, Doc?" Jake asked, and Beaver nodded. "Okay, then." Jake stepped in close, boots right in the bloody, roiled up ground, and put hands on the horse's head. He directed Jared and Adrian to grab the hooves, and with a coordinated heave, they rolled the carcass. They were helped by the fact that rigor had started. But the wounds revealed were enough to sicken a strong man, and Jared had to step aside and get his rebellious stomach under control.
Beaver was swearing a blue streak, even while he pointed at areas he needed Caroline to photograph. He laid a gloved hand on the bloody flank and was still for a minute, before standing and asking Jake and Jared to bring his gear from his van: lidded buckets, stoppered vials in various sizes, giant hypodermic syringes, and heavy duty plastic evidence bags.
"I'm going to take the heart and liver, samples of the stomach and gut, blood, whatever I need, and let this man bury his horse. No need hauling the carcass back to my clinic, when I can take what I need here."
Caroline stood by with the camera, snapping pictures as Beaver collected what he needed. Jake, who seemed to know something about the process, helped hold and position the carcass so Beaver could reach the areas he wanted to sample.
Lightning flashed among the clouds along the horizon, and barely audible thunder rumbled. Jared was grateful they'd be finished here before the storm arrived.
* * *
On his afternoon off, he was spelunking in the back room at Gallimaufry, looking for a small chest or table to use beside his bed as a nightstand, and a lamp he could read by, in bed. Beth had given him run of the place, and promised to help him look, once she got through a pile of bookkeeping and filing. Sasha, her part-time help, would be in to handle customers, leaving Beth free to help Jared search. He had found a couple of pieces he thought might work, and was coming to ask her about them, when the front door opened, and Jensen walked in carrying two big white bags from the sandwich shop.
"Bethy!" he warbled in a goofy treble. "Lunch is here!" He caught sight of Jared and grinned. "Hey, Jared! I'm sure there's enough here for three. Want to join us?"
And that's how the three of them wound up loading Jared's truck with a selection of small tables and chests, and three different lamps. Jensen prowled through Jared's house, noting the furniture and placement, the colors of the rugs and cushions. He turned to grin at Jared. "Beth's touch is all over this place," he said. "But it all feels exactly like you."
Jared nodded. "She's a genius."
Beth swatted his arm as she left the house with a rejected lamp. "Help me with these other two. And the three-drawer chest."
The small dresser was the best choice, and the old brass lamp with the new silk shade was the perfect height for reading. Mission accomplished, the three of them sprawled around the living room congratulating themselves, before Beth demanded Jared drive her and her furniture back to Gallimaufry. He and Jensen unloaded everything, and Jared let Sasha run his debit card while Jensen kissed Beth's cheek. She reached to hook an arm around Jared's neck and pulled him down for a quick peck on the cheek, too, before disappearing back into her office with the filing.
Jensen walked out with him. "Well, thanks," Jared offered. "For lunch, and for the help with schlepping the stuff out, and the opinions."
Jensen grinned. "Glad to do it. Hey, decorating's a manly pursuit if you're doing it with other guys, right?"
Jared laughed and agreed. He hesitated for a few seconds, and then just came out with what he had been thinking about for a while. "Would you want to, maybe, grab dinner sometime? With me?"
"You asking me out, Jared? On a date?"
"Um, yeah?"
"Sure." The eyes crinkled at the corners with Jensen's smile. "Can we go somewhere besides Kane's?"
* * *
"Hey, Boss?" Danay was standing over Adrian's desk, paging through the photos from the horse killing.
"Yeah?" Jeff regarded her, alerted by the tone of her voice.
She pulled her cell phone from her pocket, and scrolled through the pictures on it, stopping, comparing the ones on screen to the glossies from the folder. She nodded, then held the phone out to the sheriff. "A while back, my neighbors' dog went missing. He wasn't prone to running off, and they looked for him for a few days, even put up reward posters around the neighborhood. The kids trekked all over the area, searching and calling, and about four days after he went missing, they found him."
Jared and Jason moved in behind Jeff to get a glimpse of the screen. "Damn," Jason swore. The others eyed him. "I didn't think to take pictures," he said. "It was just a couple of coyotes people on a couple of different farms ran across. And a cat somebody's dog found in the brush. I figured it was a stray. But they all had the same pattern of wounds..."
"How long ago?" Jeff asked.
"Oh geez, the cat was...a month ago? The first coyote was a few days after that. The other one was...last week."
Jeff nodded somberly. "Working his way up, looks like."
The wounds on the golden retriever were almost identical to the ones on the horse. "We need to contact Northbrook and Iver City, see if they've had any activity like this, recently. Or, not so recent."
Jared nodded, and headed for a phone. This was already ugly. It could get a lot uglier.
* * *
He picked Jensen up at his office address, a corner storefront a block off Main Street, following Jensen's directions into the alley beside the two-story building to a plain, unmarked door. There was a small pushbutton doorbell, and when Jared pushed it, a buzzer sounded to unlock the door. Stairs behind it led up, to a rooftop terrace overlooking a courtyard bounded by buildings. Jared was surprised at the pocket of green here in town. Jensen's apartment door was open, and Jensen called to him from inside.
"Just be another minute."
"Take your time," Jared called back, standing at the balcony rail and enjoying the last of the sun and the breeze. "Movie doesn't start for another fifteen minutes."
"Aw," Jensen grinned, teasing as he shut the door behind him. He looked really good in a soft grey sweater over a crisp white dress shirt, and darker grey slacks. "We'll miss all the previews."
Jared nodded. "Quite often one of the highlights of the movie experience," he agreed.
The movie was okay, lots of things blowing up and car chases, a few phrases he thought he might draft into daily use.
"At least it was better than the previews," Jensen teased, as they walked out to Jared's truck.
He had dinner at the house all planned, something simple, and he offered beer or wine with. Jensen chose the wine, and the meal was companionable. Jensen helped him clear the table and load the dishwasher, and they took the last of the wine out onto the deck.
"I'm going to buy you some folding chairs," Jensen said, leaning on the deck railing.
"No, don't," Jared said. "I've got my eye on a set of chairs and table, and a few extra chairs. They're in the budget for next month. And the grill!"
"Oooh, a grill!" Jensen mocked his excitement. "And then, the big housewarming, right?"
"Oh, absolutely," Jared assured him. "Cooking out, with places to sit, must have a party."
Jensen's grin softened, and left his lips barely curved in a slight smile. "I'll come," he said.
Jared took it as an invitation, and moved closer, one hand coming up to cup Jensen's cheek. "Promise?" He bent to touch his lips to Jensen's, and the resultant tingle surprised him. He deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue along the seam, but Jensen drew back, just enough to put a little distance between them.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Jensen hurried to reassure him. "It's nice--very nice. But Jared, I need to tell you something."
A curl of worry stirred in Jared's stomach, but he quelled it. "What?"
Jensen put another step between them, and sipped at the dregs of his wine. He raised his gaze to Jared's, and he looked nervous.
"Whatever it is, Jensen, just say it."
He nodded. "I like you, Jared. I like you a lot."
Jared nodded. "I like you too."
"I know. But it's only fair to tell you... I'm asexual."
The word didn't register for a minute, and then it did. But Jared still wasn't sure what it meant--what Jensen meant.
"You mean, you don't have sex?"
Jensen nodded. "Yeah. That's what it means. I don't--"
Jared stepped away himself, now, putting even more distance between them. He still couldn't look away, though. He needed to understand this.
"Jared, please understand. It's not a choice. I didn't decide to be this way. But I am, and because I like you, and I think you like me, I didn't want us to go on any further, in case you were expecting..."
"Expecting us to wind up in bed?" Baldly was the only way he could say it.
Jensen huffed out a little breath, like a punch. "Yeah."
Jared nodded, and emptied his own wineglass in a gulp. "Okay, then."
* * *
