Millstone & Roche, Chapter Fifteen
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All Rights Reserved © 2020, Rick Haydn Horst Formerly known as Rick Heathen
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Thank you for delving into this work; I hope you enjoy it.
Hanging the Chimney Hook: a Millstone & Roche Investigation, By Rick Haydn Horst
Chapter Fifteen
Tucker asked to accompany Wade when he left, but we managed to convince him that he would only get in the way at the scene. The rest of us stayed with him, and we hung about in Albert's quarters as he had comfortable furniture. Max clung to the visibly upset Tucker for quite a while, allowing his mind to process what had happened. Even without hearing from the fire inspector, we knew someone had torched his home. Tucker had had a rough life, apparently abused as a kid, and I could only imagine that burning his home felt particularly victimizing and violating.
Everyone living near Tucker on Sweet Basil Lane had gone to see the fireworks, so the flames had fully engulfed the home before anyone noticed. The fire department stood by at the fireworks show, as anyone should expect, but even with it on standby, it took time to get there. Whoever set Tucker's house ablaze had picked the perfect moment.
I think I understood why Tucker's avuncular lawyer had helped him. Life deals a bad hand to some people in this world, often from birth. In some ways, I grew a bit protective of Tucker that night, and since I had hired him, I considered him one of us, so I had even more reason to not let the culprit get away.
Albert's quarters lay in near darkness, apart from one torchiere left on low. As Albert slept in his bed, both Tucker and Max had fallen asleep on the couch with Tucker's lightly snoring head in Max's lap. I sat in one of the chairs, sleepless and thinking. Grateful that I had placed my phone onto silent mode, I received a text from Wade just after 2:30. He asked me about Tucker, said he wanted to talk to me, and needed some laundry detergent, so I crept into the hallway, retrieved a couple of detergent packs from the stash in our quarters, and took the elevator to where he awaited me in the locker room. In the silence of the ground floor, he had slumped against the lockers, looking exhausted. Apart from the ring of relatively clean skin left from having worn a mask, his sooty arms, face, and clothes caused him to smell like a chimney sweep.
"That bad?" I asked.
"Yep. I know that I have a rule about talking business here, but it's unavoidable for the moment, and we're alone. Tucker lived in an older house that went up like a matchbox. He rented it from a landlord who owned several properties on the street. I'm sure the house had insurance, so the owner will recover, but Tucker has lost everything."
"Well, that's not quite true," I said. "Tucker now has something he's never had before. He has you, and he has the three of us. Losing everything is devastating, but we will make sure he lands on his feet."
"I would hug you for that, but I wouldn't want to get any of this on you. Of course, we must wait for the fire inspector to investigate the scene to determine the exact cause and origin of the fire, but it worries me."
"Why?"
"Because Tucker left his Jeep there," he said. "He parked it right next to the house, and that burned too."
It only took a moment to realize what he was telling me. "I see. Depending on where the fire started and how they may have believed he was home."
"Exactly. And if so, it means they've changed their goal. We thwarted their previous plan to have him arrested, and they've killed twice before; maybe they figure they should just kill him and be done with it." He spoke with derision, but his expression told me just how much that worried him. He unbuttoned his shirt to undress.
I considered his suggestion for a moment, and a possibility occurred to me. "That may be the case; however, I think another possibility exists that's more probable."
"What's that?"
"Thanks to the photo in the paper, the killer thinks Tucker has the ring. I doubt he would burn the house without first giving it a good ransacking. So, he would know that Tucker wasn't home."
He looked relieved. "Then our plan caused this."
"That's thoughtful of you to take some of the responsibility," I said, "but the plan was mine."
"It became mine too when I went along with it," he said, "and I still think it could work. If what you suggest is true, then that would prove they still want the ring, but perhaps they had a Plan B, so, in lieu of having him arrested, they destroyed all he owns."
"Maybe. Let's see what the fire inspector says."
"They're going to have a tough time with it. A huge section of the roof collapsed."
"How have you gotten so dirty? You'd think you were a fireman."
"I helped the fire department as much as I could," he said.
"You're more than just a little sweet on Tucker, aren't you?"
"You would have to know him as I do. I find it astonishing that anyone would pass on the Tucker I know, just because he's so big. But then, hey, their loss is my gain, right?"
He removed the rest of his clothing, and I couldn't help but admire his tight swimmer's body. Since I hadn't cum in several hours, I felt the tickling sensation under the head of my cock, and the blood starting to fill it caused a tightness in my pants.
"Please, do me a favor and wash these." He started wrapping his clothing in a way that I wouldn't get anything on me. "I wouldn't want Tucker to see me like this or smell it on me and my clothes."
"Sure, no problem." I looked up, and he stared into my eyes.
"You were looking at me, weren't you?"
"Should I apologize?"
"I thought I wasn't your type. I mean, Max has a unique appearance and a lot of muscle. I'm fit, but not nearly so big."
I shrugged. "A handsome naked man is standing in front of me; I'm going to look."
He smiled. "I appreciate the compliment. Let me get cleaned up; I look like I've been shoveling coal. If you think it's necessary, wash that on hot, will ya?"
At the washing machine, I received a text from Max wondering where I had gone.
TEXT: [Wade returned, and he's filthy. He asked me to bring down some detergent and wash his clothes while he gets cleaned up. He's given me an update. I'll be up in a bit. Just so you know, I have an erection problem. Are you okay? How's Tucker?]
REPLY: [I'm fine but sleepy. Tucker remains asleep in my lap, and I don't want to wake him. How bad is the house?]
TEXT: [Tucker lost everything at the house, including his Jeep. Get some rest, Honey Bear. I love you.]
REPLY: [I love you too. You need some relief, and I'm okay with Wade helping you since I'm indisposed.]
TEXT: [Are you really okay with that? I'm not so sure he would be willing.]
REPLY: [Among our little group of five, it's fine when I'm not available. I know how it is for you, so don't let yourself go. Trust me, he would love to blow you.]
TEXT: [Thanks, Honey Bear, I'll see what he says.]
I pried my cock from my pants, and it felt so stiff it almost hurt. After I left my clothes on the washer, I padded over to the door of the shower room, where I saw Wade scrubbing the pore-clogging grime from his lean muscular body. When he turned to rinse off, he noticed me standing in the doorway, my cock towering well above my belly button.
"Uh-oh," he said. "Looks like something's come up."
"Yeah, Max thought you and I should discuss it, and if you enjoy the topic, he said he's fine with us discussing it when he's not available."
"I do enjoy a thorough conversation," he said, "and I'm willing to discuss that topic anytime."
I walked his direction. "I appreciate that. I need to discuss it often, and if I don't...well, an issue comes up that just won't go away until it gets all talked out, you know what I mean?"
Wade was of average height, so I had to bend a bit when I kissed him, and his lips had just the right amount of firmness. He took hold of my cock and gripped it like a nightstick.
"Are you sure that Max is okay with this?" he asked.
"I have the texts to prove it," I said.
He wrapped his lips around the head of my cock. He couldn't swallow it, but I enjoyed his attempts, and he had a lot of fun playing with it. Settling into a nice rhythm, he sucked the head and several inches of shaft while jerking me with both hands. What he lacked in throating ability, he made up for in enthusiasm. As I leaned forward a bit, one hand grasped the shower column, and the other rode his head as he bobbed on my knob. It felt different from Max, but it worked its magic, and soon I felt myself on the verge of feeding him.
"Gonna give you something to drink, buddy, so start chugging."
I held onto the column with both hands as I came. He choked a bit but did his best to get it all. He stood upright when it stopped, and I saw that he had cum on his face. "Damn. You cum a lot." He jacked his cock, and he asked, "I'm about to cum. Do you want it?"
I squatted a little and mouthed his meat. It felt a bit wide, like an oval, but still comfortable. Since I had little experience, before I knew it, when he let it go, its downward curve caused it to slide right down my throat. It almost gagged me, so I held it near the base to prevent that from happening again. I ran my tongue beneath his foreskin and slurped it as I jacked his cock.
Holding onto my head, he grunted when he came, and he tasted so much like Max that I had no trouble swallowing. I really liked his foreskin, and I wished I still had mine. When I stood, I licked the cum from his chin and fed it to him with a kiss.
"I have a new-found appreciation of Max's abilities," he said. "Throating you is a challenge, so he has some serious skills."
"Oh, he spoils the hell out of me, and I know it." I kissed him, grabbed his taught ass-cheeks, and squeezed them. "So, will you let Tucker fuck you?"
"Yesterday, Tucker picked up one of those 18.6-ounce soup cans from my kitchen cabinets and said, `See that? That's about how big around I am.' I saw him erect last night, and he wasn't pulling my leg. If I ever took him, it would require a lot of work. Do you like my ass?"
"It's a damn nice one."
"It's not as nice as Troubles, and he's an amazing fuck; it's a shame you're his cousin."
"Yeah, well, that's the way the buns bounces. Let's hurry and get upstairs. We have men waiting on us."
He held my chin for a moment. "Hey, will you allow this to alter our working relationship?"
"What, for a bro-job? Hell no. You're just helping a buddy out, and I appreciate it."
By the time we had dried off, Wade's clothes had finished washing, and since he had a clothes rack in his quarters, he hadn't bothered tossing them into the dryer. Neither of us dressed; we just draped our clothing over our shoulder and returned to Albert's place.
We had a few hours of night left, and as for myself, we would take the day off from working out, so I could sleep for a bit. Wade hated to awaken Tucker, even just long enough to get him to his quarters, but we all needed to sleep.
Max stood at the end of our bed, his eyes closed and only partially awake, allowing me to undress him. He sat, and I pulled his pants over his feet. We crawled into bed, I held him, and we slept until morning.
Off and on, I had incredibly erotic dreams that night, but I awoke to find myself feeding Max my special protein shake as he slurped my morning wood.
"I hoped you wouldn't mind me helping myself," he said.
I laughed. "Have you sucked me more than this once?"
"Twice," he said. "I was thirsty, but I tried not to wake you."
"Oh, Honey Bear, I'll feed you anytime."
A knock came upon our door. Max cleaned me in a hurry and left to answer it.
"You'll find the car key in the pocket of my pants from yesterday," I said.
As I expected, Wade and Tucker had dropped by, and I heard their voices from the other side of the partition. "Good morning, guys," said Max. "Have you had enough sleep?"
"I'm alright," said Wade. "I'll see you guys this afternoon." I think I heard Wade kiss Tucker goodbye before the door closed.
I rose from the bed and made myself somewhat presentable. I had only slept four hours and needed more, but I couldn't afford to stay in bed; we had too many things to do. I could smell the food Max was preparing for breakfast and coffee brewing.
Tucker, who sat with his forehead on the dining table, must have noticed me entering the room from the corner of his eye, and we exchanged good mornings.
Max asked me, "Would you like me to contact Winter to schedule a time to update her?"
"No, you're making breakfast, so I'll do that." And I did so. I took a seat, studying Tucker, who hadn't moved, looking sad and pathetic. "How are you?"
"I should just become a hobo," he said.
I leaned forward and tipped my head until my ear practically touched the table, so he could see me in his peripheral. "Hasn't Wade offered you his home?"
"Yes,"--he raised his head and sat up--"but that felt different when I had someplace else to go. Now I just feel like a burden."
"Well, I won't lie to you; you are a burden,"--I raised my hand--"but before you allow that to validate how horrible you feel, let me finish. I know what it feels like to have no one. When you're truly alone, you could never burden others, but life could burden you. When life runs smoothly, independence is wonderful, and it feels great, but never expect to unwaveringly carry yourself despite whatever hardship that comes along. That's just not how life works, and fortunately, you're not alone. So yes, you're a burden, but you're one we're willing to carry because we care about you. You couldn't help yourself nearly as effectively while living on the street, so just accept our help while you need it."
Max brought plates of eggs and oatmeal to the table. "The shirts you got him was fortuitous," he said to me, then turned to Tucker. "Good thing you hadn't taken them home."
"Really...that would be awful, wouldn't it? Thank you for those; I sure need them now."
"Well, we're not done," I said. "You need the rest of it."
"You've spent too much money on me as it is."
"Don't worry about the money; it pleases me to do it. Tell me, have you ever worn pants with a gusset? For big men like us, once you go gusset, you never go back."
He had never even heard of one, and this led to a protracted discussion over breakfast, during which I received a text from Winter. She invited us to the apartment at the mansion at 10:00 that morning, and I informed Max and Tucker of it.
"Winter hasn't met you, has she?"
"No," Tucker said, "we've seen one another, but I was just a peon at the time, so I never met her."
"I think you should," I said. "I want to take you into our confidence about things, but as our client, I should discuss it with Winter first. You have your cell phone, right?"
He pulled a flip-phone from his pocket. "Right here."
"And you lectured us on something old-school," said Max.
"Yeah, well, when I eventually had my own business, I intended to invest in a smartphone, but I had yet to bother."
"Can you receive texts on that?" I asked.
"Yeah, but sending them's a pain, so I don't."
"Okay, when we get there, I need you to stay in the SUV until I text you to come inside. At the beginning of next week, we'll get you a company smartphone and a company laptop; you'll need it for school."
"I appreciate that the fire would have destroyed the one I had. I hadn't owned much, but I can't believe it's all gone, even my Wrangler. I hadn't had that Jeep a year. Fortunately, that was fully insured. I need to contact the co-op and file a claim."
"Speaking of all that you lost," said Max, "had you anything at your home, besides your vehicle, that you could not go without?"
"Wade asked me the same thing. I don't take any medications or anything, so I could only think of toiletries and clothes. Wade volunteered to get my toiletries this evening, but I have money in my savings. I should rebuy all those things myself."
"How much money do you have in savings?" I asked.
"Currently, it's a bit over five thousand," he said.
"Don't deplete your savings; that's emergency money."
"Isn't this an emergency?" he asked.
"No, this is a catastrophe. An emergency is when you have a traffic ticket, and you pay out an unexpected $500 to the court. An emergency is when your car suddenly needs a transmission, and you must buy a new one, so keep your savings.
"We wouldn't want to take your independence from you, so this is just temporary. Maybe it hasn't fully hit you, but somebody has tried to destroy your life. We know you don't deserve that, so we've offered you a major leg-up. Don't let this person win by making it as hard on yourself as they hope it will be."
He sat there for a moment. "I guess I hadn't thought of it like that. I'm just used to doing everything for myself."
"With our help, you'll be back to that like this never happened to you. I enjoy the idea that if we help make this a minor blip on your radar, then your arsonist will have lost."
At the appointed hour, Max and I stood at the apartment door of the mansion while Tucker remained in the vehicle. Winter answered the door wearing a white chiffon dress with net-like lace sleeves.
"Good morning, gentlemen." She smiled and invited us to sit at the dining table, as was her habit.
"Your wardrobe never ceases to amaze me," said Max. "You look beautiful in that."
"Thank you! Wait until you see my winter wardrobe. I love wearing pure white in winter; it's so naughty." She smiled. "Well, since Douglas Chadwell killed Tommy, I guess the case is over."
"Unfortunately," I said, "the police have used that as a ruse. Chadwell hadn't killed Tommy or himself. We have a far more complicated case. It's about someone taking vengeance on James Malor and about something that I had yet to tell you, but I should no longer avoid; I would like you to understand what's at stake here. The case includes an engagement ring carrying a priceless five-carat red diamond that might belong to the Catholic Church."
"You're joking. Those sound like such widely divergent things. How could they possibly be connected?"
"We're not sure, but they connect somehow. We have a plan to catch this person, but it's important that the housewarming continue as planned."
"Wouldn't that put my guests in danger?" she asked.
"I think the only one in danger is James Malor," I said, "and he's willing to help us catch this person."
"How can you know that no one else is in danger?"
"Because they burned his house last night, destroying everything he owned, so it's pretty clear that he's their focus."
"Oh my god...I heard a house had burned...so that was his. Ugh, I feel horrible now."
"Why would you feel horrible?" Max asked.
"Because I thought James killed Tommy, I went to the police, and I mentioned him. That's apparently what the killer wanted us to think all along. Now I feel like an accomplice. Apart from trusting you about guest safety, how can I help?"
"One, make sure you never mention that ring to anyone. No one knows that we know about it or its significance. Two, as strange as it may sound, I have hired James to work with us from now on, and I would like you to meet him because he will be around."
"That's an unusual turn of events," she said.
"Well, you would have to have been there."
The private number on my cell phone received a call. "It's Detective Edgerton. Forgive me; I should take this." Not knowing the purpose for the call, I kept it private and held the phone to my ear. "Hello detective, what can I do for you?"
"Tucker told me you were speaking with Winter," he said, "and I apologize for disturbing you. They have managed to remove the collapsed section of roof from the fire scene, and beneath it, they found a heavily charred body. It's female, according to forensics. The fire inspector says the fire started at its location and involved an accelerant like kerosine. Of course, we'll have to wait for the autopsy to know how and when she died, but I think I've discovered the woman's identity. I figured since both Tommy and Chadwell worked for Alliance, perhaps she had too. So, I called Bo Pecker, and he told me that Delilah Crows, his office manager, worked yesterday but hadn't come to work this morning. I've called her cellphone, but it goes to voicemail. We found her car located at her home, but she's neither there nor at the hospital. I asked Tucker about her; he didn't know her; he kept everything strictly business with the office staff. That's all I have for now."
"Okay, I'm glad you let us know," I said. "What would you like us to do?"
"Tucker told me you had planned to help him with some clothing today. I appreciate that. For now, just stick with your plans. By the way, I noticed last night that his shoes need replacement. And I have a personal request. When it comes to underwear and pants, think sexy."
I laughed. "Oh, I have no doubt that Max already has that in mind. Thanks for letting me know the situation. We'll see you this afternoon."
I relayed the information to Winter and Max. Given the circumstances, I thought it best to delay any further discussion and continue with the presumption that the housewarming would proceed as scheduled. It remained unclear whether the news would have any effect either way on it taking place.
"I agree," she said. "We wouldn't want to overreact, and I'll await more news from you. So, James has lost everything. The Winter Foundation helps people in his situation. What does he need?"
"His Jeep burned along with everything else," said Max.
"He has insurance on it," I said.
"Do you know where he has the insurance?"
"He mentioned something about a co-op."
"Oh, that's the Franklin Insurance Cooperative," she said. "Highly recommended. But regardless of where he bought his insurance, they will only pay the current value of the vehicle. So, unless he adds money to it--which he may not have--he will probably end up with a vehicle of lesser value than he lost, especially if you include title, taxes, and registration. We've worked with insurance in the past, and we could make up the difference, so he could get a better vehicle."
"He would probably appreciate that," I said, "but the insurance would probably just pay-off the loan since he had it less than a year."
"Oh no... Okay, thanks for letting me know," she said. "Speaking of vehicles, how's the jalopy working for you?"
"We love it," Max said, `but it has one insurmountable issue."
She nodded. "It only holds two people, right? I thought that it might present a problem for you."
"Yeah," I said. "We have a different vehicle in mind, and we'll see to that fairly soon, but thank you for allowing us to use the roadster. It helped us accomplish more than we ever could without it."
"You're welcome," she said. "I was thinking of giving it to Grey. He remarked how much he liked it."
"Sounds like a plan," I said. "Well, we should go; we have much to do." We rose to leave.
She leaned forward onto the table. "Max, before you go, may I speak with you in private?"
"Of course," he said.
"I'll wait for you in the vehicle," I said. "See you later, Winter."
On the way to the SUV, Tucker stuck his head out the window. "You haven't texted me!"
"Yeah, today's not a good day to meet Winter. It'll happen soon, though." I climbed behind the wheel.
"Where's Max?"
"Talking to Winter about something," I said, "I have no idea what."
"Maybe they're planning your surprise birthday party."
"If so, they're eleven months early. How are you feeling about the body found in your house?"
"It's terrible," he said, "but I know nothing about it. On the bright side, I finally have an alibi for someone's death."
"Thank goodness," I said. "We need to shop for clothes, have lunch, and get back to the Minotaur before three o'clock. Steamy Pete will deliver our bed today, and no, this doesn't include their extra special white-glove service; it's just the regular."
"Well, at least they'll be shirtless."
When Max returned to the vehicle a few minutes later, he had a bemused expression. "Okay, we can go now."
"What was that about?" I asked.
"Let's discuss it tonight."
Tucker moved up between the front seats. "If you're waiting because of me, I could stick my fingers in my ears and hum a tune."
Max laughed and smiled at him. "That's thoughtful, but no, I just need to think about it for a while first."
"Okay, no rush," I said.
I had no way to know how long it would take to get the autopsy results about the woman, it would depend on the coroner, and I wondered if it could mean the closure of the case. For all we knew, in a real fit of remorse for having killed two people with nothing to show for it, she could have poured fuel around the interior of Tucker's home, doused herself, and struck a match. I could think of less painful ways to go about killing one's self, but stranger things had happened.
The search for Tucker's sexy clothing was going well, but we stopped for lunch. He recommended an unusual rustic-styled restaurant in The Village called Lumberjacks, where all the hunky waiters wore plaid shirts rolled at the sleeves, suspenders, tight jeans showing fine asses and nice bulges, and boots like a logger.
Tucker had apparently eaten there so often that every waiter knew him by the nickname Tenten, but he asked them to start calling him Tucker and told us he intended to leave Tenten in the past along with the persona.
We saw many muscular guys among the people in the booths there, and as they had geared the place toward guys trying to get big, the portions were huge, but they also had half-portions upon request. If Tucker ate there as often as he said, no wonder he had such a thick build. We loved our experience there and decided to make it one of our go-to restaurants.
At the end of our meal, while awaiting the bill, Tucker said, "I think the name James doesn't suit me, and I've never liked it. Did you know that, in the West, it's the number one name for males used in the last century?"
"I figured number one would be John," said Max.
"No, that's number two. And when my lawyer friend found my birth mother (who I decided not to meet, by the way), he discovered that my last name Malor is a misspelling."
"Really?" I asked. "What was it supposed to be?"
"M-a-i-l-o-r. They misspelled it on my birth certificate, and no one bothered to fix it. They probably thought that, since my mother had given me up anyway, what's the difference. You have no idea how much I love you guys calling me Tucker. Last night, after you asked me about my nickname, the thought occurred to me to change my name to that, and the idea crossed my mind again when we got here."
"Would you change your last name with it?" asked Max.
"Oh yeah, I see no reason not to, and Tucker Malor sounds like shit, so I'll have to give it some thought."
"I think changing your name is a great idea," said Max. "You seem more like a Tucker to me anyway."
"We heard that name changes happen all the time here in Franklin," I said, "especially among the goth community. If you feel unsatisfied with the name you have, then change it."
The detective called me on my private number, just as Hunter, our waiter, returned with the bill.
Max said, "I'll take care of this," and he signed the ticket so we could leave.
"Hello, Wade, could you hold on a second? We're leaving a restaurant, and I want the three of us to hear."
"Sure."
We stopped at the side of the enclosed vestibule on the way out, and I put the phone on speaker. "Okay, have you something for us?"
"Oh yes," he said. "We just got the forensic tests back from Delilah's home. We believe it's her right index finger, but it matches the stray print on that one finger trap."
"Well, that's great! So, we got her then."
"Not quite," he said, "there's an issue with ability. It's questionable whether she could maneuver Chadwell into position to make it appear like suicide. And one more thing, a burned kerosene container sat near the back door, just as though someone had left it on the way out."
"Then we've been looking for a Bonnie and Clyde all along."
"So it seems," he said, "but it looks like this Clyde bumped-off Bonnie."
"Are we talking two people with the same agenda," asked Max, "or two people with two different agendas?"
"That's an excellent question," he said. "I think it's pretty clear that Clyde wants the ring. Even with the fire, we couldn't miss the fact that they had rifled through the house before Clyde burned it."
"Not sure if you know, detective," said Max, `but Delilah Crows was goth, and I suspect that's not her original name, just from something Bo Pecker said to us."
"I appreciate your letting me know. It's kind of hard to tell from her current appearance. I'll have Sawyer check into her name change, and we'll see if she had ever lived in Seattle. I'm willing to bet she had."
"If she were the one trying to get me," said Tucker, "and she's dead, would that mean at least that part will stop?"
"Possibly," he said, "I'm sorry, Tucker, I wish I could give you a definitive answer. I need to go; I just wanted to give you the update."
So, our conversation ended there, which was just as well. We had more clothing to acquire and needed to return to the Minotaur by three.
Once we had replenished Tucker's wardrobe, we headed home. I noticed him in the mirror sitting in the back, looking pensive. "Are you okay back there?"
"I'm just thinking about what Wade told us. Before this, if I ever wanted to have a normal life again, I really had no choice, but I want you guys to know, if the heat's off me and Clyde just wants the ring, I will still help with the plan for Tommy. He and I talked a lot before the night he died, and I learned that, while growing up, we both had a shit life. And then, as Tommy began to get his life together, this asshole kills him. It's like you just can't get a break without someone trying to take it from you. So, I want to help catch this guy. And I want to thank you for the break you've given me because I see that's what it is, and if I have to fight someone to keep it, I will."
I felt I had just experienced a glimpse of the Tucker that Wade spoke of. He had a lot of strength and determination within him, and I suppose he would have needed that to survive the abuse. In that moment, I knew he would mesh well with us, and I saw that my offer meant far more to him than I ever realized.
We reached the Minotaur with a few minutes to spare. "There's Cousin Albert's Camry," I said. "I wondered if he would get time to accept his bed today."
"Trouble's your cousin?" asked Tucker.
"His brother Thomas told me he and Albert are my first cousins once removed."
"Once removed," he said. "Does that mean you were on-the-outs with the family, and eventually they forgave you, or what?"
I laughed and asked Max, "It kinda sounds like that, doesn't it? Apparently, in our case, it means that we share great grandmothers or something."
We entered the building and Henry Cole, the perennially naked owner, staffed the concierge desk.
"Good afternoon, Henry," I said.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." He noticed Tucker and left the desk to approach him, his dong flopping with every step. "I have yet to meet you, but I know you by that beautiful head of hair. I'm Henry Cole. Wade said we should call you Tucker." He shook his hand. "I am so sorry to hear about your home."
"I appreciate that, but I think I'll be okay. I know I'm not a club member, so thank you for letting me stay with Wade."
"Wade lived alone, so he could always have a guest. You can stay while he agrees, especially given your circumstance, and looking at you, I could never imagine him not agreeing. I can tell you exercise; those arms and meaty looking thighs of yours are a dead giveaway. Please, enjoy our gym, where I hope we will see just how big you really are."
Tucker smiled. "I will enjoy making sure you do."
"Excellent." He turned to Max and me. "Gentlemen, Trouble tells me you're both expecting a delivery. I will send them up when they arrive."
Once in the elevator, Max noticed Tucker had a funny expression. "Are you blushing?"
He gave an awkward laugh. "You might be surprised at just how little I'm accustomed to getting that kind of attention. Even at Kinks, people would look and talk, but not like that."
"Wait until your makeover tomorrow," said Max. "We'll have you positively eye-catching."
"A makeover?"
"We're all three getting a haircut, our beard trimmed and shaped for the party tomorrow night. We wouldn't want you to go looking like Raggedy Andy."
"Ugh...my hair's not that red."
Waiting for the delivery, Albert had left his door open, and he hung about in our quarters until they arrived. The movers wore short shorts and no shirts. They had some fine physiques, easily as nice as many club members. One hunky guy, according to Albert, would return after work for dinner and provide some extra-special white-glove service off-the-clock, somewhere other than Albert's new bed, of course, as Master Brice had already called .
Wade had forgotten that Albert had the delivery and allocated the task of researching Delilah Crows to another officer. He gave us the rundown when he arrived that afternoon.
"Delilah Crows' maiden name was Delilah Franques. She married Alistair Crows, divorced him, and kept the last name. Delilah went by Lilah Franques when she lived in Seattle, and she was Daniel Newberry's gal pal. So, there's our connection. Her phone records indicate that she called many employees of Alliance, which isn't too surprising as she held the job of office manager. Autopsy records show she had smoke in her lungs, so, apparently, Clyde had left her to burn to death.
"Tucker, I get the impression that she wanted to harm you but not necessarily kill you. Somehow, she used Clyde to do her dirty work, and he killed her, probably because she knew about the ring. That seems to be the common denominator. We've managed to keep our knowledge of that quiet. So, if he wants the ring, he thinks only the two of you know it exists. This guy is more dangerous than I realized, and I'm having reservations about our plan. I don't want anything happening to you."
"No one will take me from you if that's what worries you," he said to him. "I'm not Tommy. I'm not Chadwell, and I'm not Delilah. I grew up on the bad side of Baltimore. If you never learn to fight there, you won't last. I look forward to us getting to know one another better because if you already knew me, you wouldn't worry. I can take care of myself." He stepped closer to Wade and gently held his face staring him in the eye. "Trust me." He kissed him.
Wade nodded in agreement to trust him, so we would proceed as planned.
We loved our new bed frame, and we found climbing into bed that evening a pleasant change from all the previous nights of falling into it. Before we fooled around a bit, Max wanted to just hold one another and talk for a while. He found his favorite position, half on top of me, resting his head on my shoulder. I loved to rake my fingers through the golden fur on his back.
"I think I'm ready to talk to you about my conversation with Winter," he said.
"I'm listening."
"Remember when I said that I thought she wanted me to fuck her?"
"Did she proposition you?"
"Well...sort of. She said she wants to have my children."
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