I could hear Alex and Charity engaging in small talk, so I looked around at my environment. The homes were mostly small cottages surrounded by plants and gardens—a lot of which were flowering. I saw numerous signs for palm readers and spiritualists. There was one for nude yoga, which I pointed out to Alex.

  “Are you two and Buck practitioners of nude yoga?” Charity said.

  “I attended my first class without either of my partners just recently,” I said, remembering the class given by Alex’s two sisters in Shelby. “We may have to check out the classes here. It would be a nice thing to do together as a family.”

  “It’s very therapeutic too,” Charity said. “There’s my humble, but happy home on the right.”

  I turned into the driveway of a small one-story home, which had an inviting screened in porch surrounded by colorful, flowering bushes and trees.

  “You’re welcome to come in, or sit on the porch and have some lemonade,” Charity said. I also have some homemade oatmeal and raisin cookies.”

  Miss Lucy got out of the car and walked into the house so quickly she was almost running.

  “Charity, do you mind if I take photos of some of your lovely plants?” Alex said.

  “They’re not my plants, I’m merely the caretaker for Mother Earth. They’re for all to enjoy, so please feel free.”

  Leaving my flip-flops in the car, I walked barefoot around the sunny garden while Alex got his camera and started taking pictures, including one of me smelling a flower. Giving into an impulse, I walked over to him and kissed him long and lovingly. It wasn’t a part of my charade, I genuinely wanted to do it, and knew that we were in a safe place.

  “I love you, baby,” I whispered in his ear.

  He smiled at me, and my world felt warm and comforting.

  “I love you too,” he said. “And our partner Buck also,” he said, in a whisper before laughing and nipping at my neck.

  Looking down, I noticed Alex was barefoot too. He and I were two of a kind—we both hated wearing shoes.

  “There’s lemonade and cookies here for you two when you’re ready,” Charity said from the porch.

  I patted Alex on the back and walked up a couple of steps onto Charity’s porch. It was a cozy space with a small table in the center, two artistically painted wooden chairs, and an inviting wooden swing. I sat in the swing to the side of Charity, who was sitting barefoot and cross-legged in one of the chairs. She handed me a tall, slim glass of lemonade and a cookie.

  “Two men after my own heart,” she said, looking at my bare feet.

  “I’ve always hated shoes,” I said. “As a kid, I drove my mother nuts. She’d have me all dressed up to go out, and the first thing I’d do was pull off my shoes and socks. Barefoot is a good way to travel in life.”

  “I agree, and it’s also a very humble way to travel. You can learn a lot when you’re humble.”

  “That’s very insightful,” I said, truly impressed with what she’d said.

  “So how does your partner compare to the two of you, Layton?”

  “I think it’s better if you form your own impression of him, unhampered by anything I say.”

  “You’re right of course.”

  Alex bounced into the porch, gave us each a friendly smile, and sat next to me. He had just reached for his glass when Charity grabbed his hand and mine. Her eyes looked glazed over and had a far off look to them.

  “Beware of things that go bump in the night,” she said.

  -4-

  Old Friends Reunited

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  Charity shook her head and seemed to come back to reality.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Sometimes things just come to me like that—it’s a gift, and a curse, at times.”

  Alex was on the edge of his seat looking slightly bothered, so I held his hand for a moment.

  “I really didn’t mean to shake you up, Alex,” Charity said. “When these things come to me, I really can’t stop them.”

  “What did it mean, do you think?” Alex said.

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but strange things have been happening around the area lately.”

  “Strange how, Charity?” I said.

  “I don’t want to scare you guys, and I haven’t seen anything myself, but people have been going missing—and that’s not all. People who are considered rational and reasonable have reported seeing some of the missing folks come back as zombies.”

  “Zombies!” Alex said, a little too excitedly. “Could it really be true?”

  “Like I said, I personally haven’t seen any face to face,” Charity said, “but I do know that people around here are scared.”

  “Are the sightings all in this area?” I said.

  “Mostly,” Charity said. “A woman here in Aurora thought she spotted one in her backyard, there have been a couple of sightings in Mt Ore, and some were seen in the ‘Ram it Hard’ area near the gay nudist campground.”

  “Is the area really called ‘Ram it Hard?’” Alex said.

  Charity laughed before responding. “No. It’s just the nickname for the town of Ramard. It’s had the ‘other’ name since the gay campground first opened.”

  I munched on some more of my cookie—it was good. Then I stopped and took a long look at Charity—she was smarter than she let on. It was time to leave before she really started to grill us. Still, I wanted to leave on good terms.

  “As much as we’ve enjoyed the visit, Charity, it’s time Alex and I were going. But I’d love to take you up on your offer of another visit before we leave the area.”

  “Great!” Charity said with a genuinely happy tone and smile. “If I’m not here when you come by, the porch is always unlocked, so just come on in. Someone will call me and let me know I have visitors.”

  “You’re a clever one, aren’t you, Charity?” I said, to gauge her reaction. She didn’t miss a beat in her response.

  “Ssshh… don’t let anyone else in on my secret, Layton. Most people think I’m just a silly twit.” She laughed before continuing, “Let me get some cookies and plastic cups with more lemonade for you two to take with you.”

  Before leaving I shouted good bye to Miss Lucy who shouted back “Later, boys!” before I heard the toilet flush.

  * * * *

  I was munching on another cookie as we drove toward Mt Ore.

  “Mmm… these cookies are sooo good, Alex. We’ve got to pry the recipe out of Charity on our next visit.”

  “After what you told me about the reason for Miss Lucy’s frequent bathroom visits, I don’t think you should eat too many of those cookies. So there will be another visit to the lovely Charity’s home. Why, exactly?”

  “Charity knows more than she’s saying, and the lady is way smarter than she lets on, that’s why. What was your impression of her? You’re a photographer—you must make pretty quick impressions of people mentally. I bet you even know whether or not you want to photograph someone within seconds of meeting them.”

  “You’re right. And I definitely want to photograph Charity.”

  “Now it’s my turn to ask, why? She’s no supermodel.”

  “You’re testing me to see if what I think of her matches what you think of her. I’m beginning to understand you more and more, Layton.”

  “Yes, you are; but that doesn’t answer my question. And I’m not ‘testing’ you—I just want to see if we’re on the same page.”

  “OK. She’s special. I can’t quite put my finger on why, but there’s something special about her. She’s no glamour girl, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to be. There’s a beauty about her, though—a sort of inner glow.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought… but there’s something more.” I paused trying to collect my thoughts. “It’s sort of like—”

  “Like if we’d stayed there she would’ve seen right through us,” Alex said with a smile that made me kiss his cheek quickly.

  “Like she saw through Miss Lucy,” he said, finishing his interrupted thought.

  “Miss Lucy and Charity both said that someone ratted Miss Lucy out, but what you say has the ring of truth about it—truth! That’s the word, Alex. Charity would’ve figured Miss Lucy out without anyone telling her. It also felt like Charity could see the truth of why we were there, as if she knew we were lying.”

  “I wouldn’t say we were lying… at least not yet,” Alex said. “She didn’t ask us anything about why exactly we’re here. You did make up that over the top story about coming to the area to pick up our lover in Ramard—but hey, we could always make that part true. If the guy’s cute and all.”

  I turned to him and could see his lips start to curl up in the corners. He couldn’t keep his straight face for long and was laughing loudly. I put an arm around him and pulled him closer to my side.

  “Did I ever tell you I don’t like sharing?” I said, flashing him a smile. “You’re mine, all mine, and only mine.”

  “And you’re all mine, detective, no matter how cute the other guy is, or isn’t. I’m pretty sure he won’t hold a candle to you, anyhow.”

  “I can’t even see anyone else but you, babe. Other men can’t hold a candle to you. Don’t be upset, but the guy that Miss Lucy has us meeting with in Mt Ore is the waiter from Shelby and his partner. The waiter I fooled around with before I met you. Are you OK with that, Alex?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? It happened pre us, and was over before you met me. And you did tell me it was a friendly tryst, but nothing more meaningful.”

  “I just don’t wanna mess this up… what we have is so special. And after—”

  “Stop right there, babe. First off, I won’t let you mess us up. What we have is forever. Secondly, what happened with your ex wasn’t your fault. There was no excuse for his going after your nephew. I love you, Layton, and I know we’re not going down that same path. Ten years is a long time to be with someone, and I’m sure some of those years with your ex were good, but you need to try to put him and that old life completely behind you, if you can.”

  “I have, believe it or not. Well, most of it.” I thought about something for a moment, then decided to just completely let my guard down and be honest with the man I loved. “It’s being in love. You know, the whole thing. It’s a wonderful feeling—being in love, but it leaves a person feeling vulnerable.”

  Alex rubbed my back with the palm of his hand, then kissed the side of my neck. “I promise never to hurt you, Layton.”

  He put his head on my shoulder before speaking again. “You can feel secure in us… don’t get distracted from the case. Maybe we need to find some time after this for a real honeymoon, pardon the word.”

  “That would be nice,” I said.

  We drove on some winding roads for a bit, just enjoying the green scenery, when the road started rising steadily, and we found ourselves in Mt Ore. To our right, was a large white Victorian house with a wraparound porch and lacy gingerbread trim.

  “Now, that’s a nice porch,” I said.

  “The house is great,” Alex said. “According to the sign in front, it’s a Masonic lodge.”

  We passed a park and were on top of the hill overlooking the small downtown area, which consisted of several streets filled with one-, two-, and three-story buildings, housing various types of shops and restaurants.

  “Reminds me a little of Shelby, but bigger, and on a hill,” I said. “I like it here better, though—it seems more interesting. Time to go to work, babe. Keep your eyes open for a Frankie and Jimmy’s Italian restaurant.” I laughed out loud just saying the name Frankie.

  “What’s so funny?” Alex said.

  “Well, Frankie is the hunky Italian cop I told you about that got together with Jimmy after me—”

  “I’ve heard the tale. The guy helped Jimmy get out of Shelby before my family could get to him, and they became an item. What was the laughter for?”

  “Before I was so rudely interrupted,” I said, shooting Alex a smile, “I was going to say that the guy hated being called Frankie. He was about as formal as one person could get, even to the point of never using contractions, because the private school he went to taught him that real gentlemen don’t use them. And to get to the point, the guy preferred being called Francisco.”

  “People do change, Layton. And I think Frankie and Jimmy’s has a better ring than Francisco and Jimmy’s.”

  “Francisco’s wouldn’t be a bad name,” I said.

  “I think in this touristy area Frankie and Jimmy’s sounds better.”

  I stopped at a red light, and Alex took the opportunity to huddle close and kiss me.

  “Jimmy may be good looking, but not very smart to have left you for Frankie. I’m sure Frankie doesn’t compare to you and your rugged good looks.”

  That last line made me laugh. “Frankie’s good-looking enough to be a model. And poor Jimmy didn’t have much of a choice about leaving, once your sisters found out he’d witnessed some of their activities. But Frankie’s a good guy, and he fell for Jimmy probably as hard and fast as I fell for you.”

  “That’s sweet, babe. You caught my eye when we first met, too. Back to reality. I see a sign straight ahead and to the right for the restaurant.”

  “Good. Do me a favor and keep your eyes open for a parking space.”

  We had to park in the public parking lot at the end of the street. I got out of the Jaguar and looked down the street toward a large old hotel in front of a lake.

  “Wow. Picture postcard perfect, huh,” I said.

  Alex nodded his head in agreement and began taking pictures of it. The whole area was picturesque with nice plantings and palm trees accenting the streets. My attention went back to Alex, and I felt like I could never get enough of just looking at him. He was so focused right now doing his thing with the camera. The portrait he’d done of me in Shelby was safely in the Jag. It was good, and showed the hand of a true artist, not that I considered myself an expert on the subject of art. Still, as a detective, a large part of my job was to silently observe, and I’d observed many a work of art and the artist—or so called self-professed artists. Alex had a real, natural talent. He put his camera back in its bag, which hung over his shoulder, and walked over to me.

  “Sorry, I took so long, Layton. This place really has character.”

  “No, problem. I could go on ahead by myself, if you want more time here.”

  “By yourself to meet with an ex playmate… not on your life.”

  “Don’t you trust me, Alex?” I said, flashing him a grin.

  “I trust you completely. It’s the other guy I don’t trust.”

  “You didn’t see the way those two men looked at each other when I last saw them. And anyway, I’m the one that may feel a tinge of jealousy when you get a look at Frankie.”

  Alex laughed, and we started walking uphill past shops toward the restaurant. Even being in good shape, I could feel the climb in the back of my legs.

  “It’s steeper than it looks, huh?” Alex said.

  “I hope we’re not underdressed, wearing flip-flops and shorts,” I said, as we reached the front door of a three-story brick building with a large window in front and a wide wooden door.

  “We’re in a tourist town in Florida… you’re fine—and I do mean fine.”

  As we walked inside, we were greeted with a gust of cool air and by the man himself.

  “Layton, my good friend!” Frankie said, walking to me and greeting me with a hug before he turned to Alex and hugged him. “And, Alex, I am very happy to hear that you’re a permanent fixture in this stud’s life. You are a good friend also.”

  “Did I hear you utter a contraction, Frankie?” I said.

  “Yes, you did. I am… I mean, I’m trying to loosen up. This place is more casual, and as host of this fine establishment I need to be more accessible and friendly.”

  “Not too friendly, for Jimmy’s sake, I hope,” I said, then smiled.

  “Of course not. I am only for him, completely.”

  “That’s nice,” Alex said.

  I turned to Alex and tried to see if he had a reaction at all to meeting the tall, tan Italian hunk, but he had on his poker face.

  “Where are my manners?” Frankie said. “Please follow me, I’ve got a table set aside for us outside in the courtyard.”

  We followed him through the cozy restaurant, which featured dark wood and a mixture of tables and booths. It was as classy as Frankie himself. He was much more casually dressed than I’d seen him in Shelby, but still expensively dressed. I guess having a grandfather who owned a men’s fine clothing store helped. Last time I’d seen him, he was dressed in an expensive Italian suit. Now he wore a Polo brand short-sleeved shirt, which showed off his wide shoulders and narrow waist, dress pants, and very nice, high-end leather sandals. His shiny black hair was brushed back, as usual. I noticed a pair of French doors, which looked like they led outside, and saw a sign with ‘courtyard closed for private party’ written on it. Frankie opened the doors and showed us to a nice tiled courtyard with a bubbling fountain and several small tables. He then walked us to a table for four in the back under an umbrella.

  Alex and I sat, and Frankie patted me on the back. “The sandals I’m wearing are a little too casual, aren’t they? I’m still learning.”

  “With feet as handsome as yours, I think it’s alright to show them off,” I said. “Frankie, do you even have a bad spot on your handsome self?”

  “According to my handsome partner Jimmy, I don’t.” He laughed. “What can I get you guys to drink?”

  “How’s about a Coca-Cola?” I said.

  “Make that two,” Alex said.

  “I’ll be right back with them.”

  As soon as Frankie left, I looked at Alex and raised my eyebrows. “Well?”

  “He’s OK, better than average I guess. And he does have cute feet, but yours are cuter.” He leaned over, and kissed me on the lips, and I kissed him back.

 

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