A Barlow Lens (4 page)

A few days went by, then came the morning Tom sat in the diner having coffee and eggs before it was time to begin classes. A gust of cold air accompanied the bell over the door jangling. Normally he didn't pay much attention to the other patrons, but this time the newcomer sat on the stool beside his and nudged his elbow.

“Hey, buddy, mind sharing the paper?” Philip was dressed in his police uniform. He dipped his chin at the copy of the
Cleveland Press
on the counter in front of Tom. Tom turned his attention back to his cup of coffee. It was difficult acting uninterested with his cock twitching in his trousers and his heart doing double time in his chest. “Sure.” He slid the paper over across the counter until it rested between them.

Philip held up the paper, shook it out, and folded it, then held it up. “Boy, this Hopkins guy is something, huh?”

Before Tom could answer, the waitress set a coffee cup down and poured coffee for Philip. He pretended to focus on his meal while Philip exchanged a few words with her, flirting and making her laugh.

That made Tom snicker to himself. He knew this girl, Emma, held no interest for Philip. She'd flirted with Tom too, probably to ensure a nicer tip.

His attention piqued when he heard Emma ask, “You comin' for Sunday dinner this week? Archie is home.”

“I'm going to have to miss it this time. Tell him hello for me.”

“Is it because of what he does, who he runs with?” Emma asked Philip.

“Naw, sweetie. It's my day off,” Philip said.

Tom swore Emma flicked her gaze to him for a fraction of a second. She smiled and leaned over the counter. “More important things to do?”

“Something like that.” Philip poked at his cup. “Refill?”

Emma smiled and said, “Sure thing.” She retrieved the coffeepot, topped off both Philip's and Tom's cups, and moved down the counter to other customers.

Philip reached across himself and held his hand out to Tom. “Philip Hall.”

“Tom Manning.” Tom shook the hand offered to him. “I teach at the elementary school a few blocks down. The kids would love it if an officer would stop by and visit one day.”

“I'd sure like that myself. I love kids,” Philip said and smiled that warm, wide smile Tom had adored almost immediately. “We'll work something out.” He set some money on the counter and waved at Emma. “See ya later, darlin'. Give your momma a big kiss for me.”

Tom almost missed the small piece of paper that Philip slipped partially under Tom's plate. “Nice to meet you, Officer.”

“Call me Philip,” Philip said, then turned and ambled toward the door. He stopped and greeted a few other patrons before leaving the diner.

Tom didn't look at the paper he'd stuffed in his pocket until he was outside. It was fortunate they were in the middle of winter and he wore a heavy overcoat. It concealed his excitement when he read the message scrawled on the paper. It was short and to the point. Anyone accidentally finding the paper would never know the real meaning. The message merely read: five o'clock, Sunday.

By seven o'clock Sunday, Tom was naked under a thick blanket with Philip in one of the Canary's back rooms. He ran his finger over a scar on Philip's shoulder that meandered along his chest.

“What is this from?” Tom asked when he finally caught his breath.

“Belgium. I was wounded there,” Philip said.

Tom already knew Philip was enough years older than him that he'd probably fought in the World War. “Were you old enough to sign up?”

“Barely.” Philip shrugged. “I'd just turned eighteen, but I looked more like I was twenty.”

Tom chuckled. “I tried. I was fourteen and looked ten. No one even had to look at my papers to know I was too young. Guess I was lucky. Most of them didn't come back.”

Philip rolled to his side and pulled Tom closer at the same time. “You were lucky, and I'm glad you didn't have to go.”

Tom couldn't respond. His mouth was too full of Philip's tongue.

They continued on that way for a few months. Some mornings they were able to share counter space at the diner. A few nights a month, they'd meet at the Canary. Tom reasoned they were luckier than most. They could make it appear they were two young fellas who lived and worked in the same neighborhood. Nothing more than friends is what they appeared to anyone who saw them. Perfectly normal.

However, Tom knew nothing could last forever. Life was one big change waiting to happen.

 

Cleveland, Ohio—Present Day

 

“T
HE
FIRST
thing I'd like to do is take a look at that building,” Wyatt said as he snagged Val around the waist and tugged him back onto the bed. “Caught ya.”

Val rolled to the side, poked Wyatt's ribs, and snickered. “I
let
you.”

“So? You still like being caught.”

“Well”—Val's voice was breathy and soft—“yeah. Your point?”

Wyatt answered him by getting his hand between Val's legs and slipping one nicely lubed finger into Val. A few minutes later, he had Val arching, squirming, and moaning. Wyatt eased Val down and laid him flat on his back on the bed. Using fingers, mouth, and tongue, he worked Val's flesh until he was trembling. It didn't take much pressure on the end of Val's cock with Wyatt's mouth before Val was coming, his entire body wracked with spasms.

Wyatt knelt between Val's thighs and pulled those long legs around himself. He eased his cock into Val, shuddering from the heat and still throbbing inner muscles. “Sweet Lord, you feel amazing,” Wyatt panted.

When his breathing was slower and they were both spent, he stretched beside Val and yawned. “As I was saying before I was interrupted….”

Val burst out laughing. “
I
interrupted
you
! I'll admit one thing, though.”

“What's that?”

“You're pretty spunky for an old guy.”

“That's because I'm constantly having to teach you a thing or two,” Wyatt said. “Do you want to eat out or order room service?”

Val grinned and leaned over, kissing Wyatt before scooting off the bed. “Surprise me. I'm going to grab a shower.”

Wyatt called Griff and got a contact number to arrange to see it the following morning. After that was completed, he searched online for nearby places to eat and checked out the hotel menu. Decisions made about dinner for the evening, Wyatt came to the conclusion it was beyond time to join Val in the shower.

The next morning they drove the few miles to a building that had been a school nearly a century before. Thanks to Clint's research, they knew the building had gone through several incarnations during its existence. A school, a warehouse, store, and even some kind of hippie house during the sixties.

“How do you suppose no one knew those people were down there?” Val asked as they walked the short distance from where Wyatt parked the car to the building.

Wyatt shrugged and said, “I don't know. That's part of the reason I want to see it for myself. Maybe the man we're meeting here will shed some light on that question.”

A man was waiting near the corner of the structure. He wore a yellow hard hat and held two more. Wyatt waved, and the man waved back.

“Mr. Hynds?” Wyatt asked and introduced himself and Val. “Thank you for letting us examine the site.”

The man nodded and held out a hard hat to them. “Anything to be able to close this claim.” He led the way around to the back of the building. There was some scaffolding against the brick exterior. General construction equipment, large and small, was scattered about. The entire picture was a pretty typical restoration or demolition site. “We can go in here. The area has been stabilized. As you can see, this part of the building was sectioned off from the rest.”

“Do you know why it would be like that?” Val asked.

Hynds shook his head. “I'm guessing when it was the original school it may not have been.” He led them to a ladder that stuck up from a large hole. Taking a big, yellow and black flashlight from his belt, Hynds switched it on and started down the ladder.

Wyatt followed. When bits of dirt and gravel crumbled and gave way where the ladder rested against the side of the hole, he looked up at Val. “Are you going—?”

Val rolled his eyes and scrambled down the ladder a half minute after Wyatt. He held up his right hand. “I'm fine. This one grips perfectly.”

“They were found over here,” Hynds said and pointed the flashlight to the middle of the space.

The ceiling was low enough they all had to duck or risk hitting their heads. There were brick walls, but they'd been damaged and some of the bricks were out of place. More scaffolding supported the ceiling.

Wyatt pointed to what looked to be a partially smashed doorway. “Do you know what was through there?”

“Best guess is this whole section is part of the original building, a school. There were also the remains of a furnace that was badly burnt and damaged and parts of tools that were iron, ends of shovels, things like that, in here. So we're thinking this was some kind of storage, possibly a sub-basement,” Hynds explained. “What makes the most sense is during the fire that floor collapsed.” He swung the light up. “When there was reconstruction, there was enough rubble in here no one realized the bodies were down here. The building sat empty for about ten years after the fire. This part was walled off until we found it. There was no way to get into it from the outside. We had to dig this entrance to get the skeletons out.”

“So basically they were in a tomb?” Val asked.

Wyatt and Hynds nodded at the same time. Stepping carefully, Wyatt walked around the small space. “How well was this site preserved?” He knelt down and examined the ground.

“Not well, I'm afraid. Getting down here meant putting this up and fast.” Hynds ran one hand along a section of scaffolding.

Wyatt stood up and sighed. “Understandable. Were there clothes or any personal affects that you know of?”

“Everything was turned over to the one family member the authorities were able to locate,” Hynds said.

“I'll contact Mrs. Fells then, thank you.” Wyatt waved Val at the ladder and waited until he was safely on solid ground again before climbing out himself. Once Hynds had made his way out, they thanked him again and went back to the car.

“What were you hoping to find down there?” Val asked and settled in the car.

Wyatt shrugged. “I'm not sure. Maybe something that had been left behind. Sometimes, if you're very lucky, dirt and debris can tell a big part of a story. Sometimes….”

“Now was not one of those times?”

“No, it wasn't.” Wyatt chuckled and started the car. “Hopefully Lily will talk to me. Maybe it would be better if—”

“No.” Val cut him off.

“You don't even know what I'm going to say.”

“Yes, I do. You're going to say maybe it's better if you went alone so I don't have to be around Jack's brother. You shouldn't have to face him alone,” Val said.

“I can deal with him,” Wyatt said, but he glanced at Val and added, “But I appreciate you coming with me.”

“How can I possibly help solve this mystery sitting in a hotel room?”

“You can't,” Wyatt said softly. “Thank you.”

Val didn't say anything. He didn't have to. The way he reached over and rubbed Wyatt's knee said it all. “So, you gonna call her?”

“Not while I'm driving.” Wyatt looked over at Val and grinned. “But as soon as we're back at the hotel.”

Their hotel room came complete with a small bar. It was furnished simply, but it served the purpose Wyatt needed it to. He poured a glass of whiskey and sat at the table while Val stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest, tapping his foot. Wyatt had all the contact numbers he'd been given listed on one piece of paper. He set it on the table, smoothing it down with one hand.

Wyatt took one sip of the liquor and dialed. He was relieved beyond belief when Lily answered, and not Kevin. Later he thought maybe it was caller ID that had saved him this time.

Val paced back and forth, carefully ignoring the raised eyebrows and annoyed looks Wyatt offered.

Wyatt disconnected the call, took a deep breath, and downed the rest of the whiskey in one gulp.

Val stopped his pacing, put his hands into his jeans pockets, and stood quietly watching Wyatt.

“We have to be there in an hour,” Wyatt said.

“You should eat something.”

“I'm fine.” Wyatt took another deep breath, leaned forward, and reached out, gently gripping Val's wrist. “Really, I've done a lot more with far less food and many more ounces of whiskey in my stomach.”

Val looked at him for a few more seconds, then pulled his hand out of his pocket and twined his fingers with Wyatt's. He nodded and said, “I'll drive.”

Following the directions Lily Fells had given him, Wyatt navigated while Val guided the car onto the highway. They traveled north and west, leaving the city and heading to the suburbs. Once they left the highway, they drove several more miles to the lakeshore and a road running along it, appropriately called Lake Road. They still had a few more miles west to drive before turning onto a side street that took them even closer to Lake Erie.

“Wow,” Val said. He pulled the car up the drive, switched it off, and gazed out the front window.

“Typical Kevin.” Wyatt shoved out of the car and waited for Val to join him before walking up to the front door.

The house was large, two stories, constructed of stone and brick with tall tinted glass windows that spanned both levels. An elaborate brick walkway led from the drive to the house. A deep, plush lawn gave way to an ornate garden closer to the house. Several flowering trees dotted the front yard. The walkway ended at the wide steps of a brick front porch. Gas lights stood at either side of the walk, and Adirondack chairs sat on the porch. Hanging ferns completed the picture.