Chapter 12

Twelve

W alter

I stood by while Dane chain-smoked three cigarettes. I attempted to listen and make conversation, but my mind was going a thousand miles an hour.

He'd described things from the crime scene exactly as I'd seen them. It was exactly like what my father described, too. But this suspect couldn't have been the same man who hurt Dane. I ran through the timing of the story they'd given… And Dane couldn't be the new murderer. I had no way to verify his alibi, when exactly he'd left the carnival, unless I found the carnival and spoke to someone there. Could he have gone to Buttonwillow, and then been walking back when Ryan and Kal picked him up? A hundred miles away?

"You look like you're having a crisis of faith, Detective. Don't trust the talking board, huh? Not sure you believe us?"

I stood a little straighter. "My cop brain is having a hard time, yes, but I believe you . My gut tells me everything you've told me is true."

He blew out his last puff of smoke and turned away from me. "You do what you gotta do."

And with that, he pulled off his long-sleeved crewneck shirt.

"Dane—"

He unfastened the jeans and let them fall.

"Dane!"

He walked away from me, stark naked, and when he stepped out from under the patio covering and into the sunlight, my breath caught.

He was covered in scars.

His Achilles, his thighs, and his buttocks had deep, thick slash marks that were nearly symmetrical, as if his attacker had taken his time and methodically cut into his flesh. His shoulder blades had ropey scars on them as well, likely from being dragged naked, potentially on asphalt.

He walked to the edge of the pool, where he turned around to face me, and my gut clenched.

There were the deepest scars yet on his upper inner thighs, where his femoral arteries ran. The same rough scarring was on his hip bones and his pecs. None of his wounds had been stitched. It was a miracle he hadn't bled to death.

He held his arms out to his sides. "Believe what you want." He stepped backward and hopped into the pool.

I heard a gasp behind me.

"His poor body!"

I turned to find Kal staring at Dane, a tear running down his cheek.

"I know."I wanted to weep, too.

From everything I'd learned about Dane Donovan, he had a beautiful soul. He wrote incredibly heartfelt lyrics and hauntingly powerful music. He'd never hurt a fly. He'd lived most of his life on the outskirts with his mother, had few friends, and only basic formal education. He was a survivor, a self- sufficient kid who'd scratched and clawed his way into the music business, willing to take any gig in order to play. He deserved so much better than he got. That was all before he ran afoul of a murderer at the Buttonwillow Rest Area forty years ago.

"We have to help him."

"I know."

If I believed Dane, believed what he'd been through, believed what he'd seen when he touched the board, I had to accept that he and Ryan had been drawn into some kind of memory, some sort of psychic link with a killer. The question was, could the killer still be linked with Dane? Could he find him through some psychic means? Was he headed here now?

Kal grabbed my arm, and I didn't pull away."He could come looking for Dane. Here. If he knows where he lived before, he could find us. We have to protect them."

I met his gaze and nodded. "I promise."

I stepped out of his grasp and walked over to the edge of the pool, then crouched down to wait for Dane to surface. He was swimming underwater, back and forth, only taking breaths at each end of the long, narrow pool.

He finally stopped in front of me and smoothed his hair back from his face. He rested his elbows on the edge of the pool and looked up at me.

"I've missed this pool," he said. "Lot of crazy shit happened in it, but I loved it. When no one was here, I could just swim or hang out underwater. It's peaceful."

"Dane, I need you to know that I believe you, and I'm going to protect you."

He covered his eyes to block the sun and squinted up at me. "I know. You'd protect me whether you believed me or not, though, wouldn't you?"

I gave him a half smile. "It doesn't matter. I do believe you, and I'm going to find this guy and stop him. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, or Ryan and Kal."

"That's a lot to promise, Detective. Maybe you oughta think about that."

"Nothing to think about. I'm giving you my word."

He smiled. "Water's nice. Want to come in?"

"That would make it tough to watch out for you. I've already accepted that I can't be objective when it comes to you, but I'm determined to keep you safe."

That seemed to call his bluff. He blinked up at me. "Walter?"

"Finish your swim. I'll be here. Watching you. Watching out for you."

"Hmm. So you're just gonna watch, huh?"

"For now."

I stood up and grabbed a patio chair, pulling it closer to the edge of the pool. I turned it so I could have a better view of the area around the pool. There was a retaining wall behind it, topped with an iron fence and surrounded by lush greenery. Off to the left was a staircase built into the hillside that led to a pool house. From my angle at the corner of the house, I could see into the master suite and the whole back patio, but there were so many vulnerable spots on this property. If we were going to remain here, I either needed to call for reinforcements or set up some rudimentary traps to let me know if someone intruded. I knew there were cameras, but was there private security? Were they any good?

"Tell me something about you."

His voice tore me from my worries. It was quite distracting having his incredibly naked form floating in the water before me, but the visible scars kept things real. He was on his back, his toes pointed together, and his hands were gently moving to keep him afloat. His golden hair spread out in the water around his face like some sort of ethereal crown. I tried to focus on his upper half and not leer at the rest of his beautiful body.

"Anything?"

"Something that has nothing to do with me or being a detective."

And there I was stuck. He'd managed to peg me with those caveats.

"There's not much else. My kids, my work… and music."

"What was the first album you ever bought?"

"Prince's 1999 ."

He frowned. "I don't recognize that name."

"Prince was a bit of a genre-bender. Rock and R&B. He put out his first album in nineteen seventy-eight, but I didn't hear him until ‘Little Red Corvette' got radio play in eighty-two. He played guitar like Jimi, and sang like Little Richard and James Brown and Marvin Gaye all donated to his DNA. He took androgyny to the next level and was unapologetically sexual."

The sunlight glinted off of his golden hairs, making him glow in the water. I was so grateful he was able to relax for a little while, the physical freedom to be supported in the water knowing that at least, for the moment, he was safe. It was still unreal that he was born before me. I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

"You'll have to play him for me on your pocket jukebox."

I chuckled. He had such a way of putting things. "I will."

"So that's the kind of music you liked?"

"In junior high, yes. But by the time I got to high school, my music taste had gone back in time. I picked up a copy of John Densmore's memoir about his time in The Doors and I fell hard."

Dane smiled, his eyes closed. It was the most relaxed I'd seen him since we'd met.

"John was square. He didn't hang out up here that much. Robbie taught me how to play ‘Spanish Caravan' on guitar. Ray gave me my first hit of acid. Jim was my first crush."

"I can see that. Pretty sure his poster on my wall was the first indication I was bisexual. It was the one with the white background, and he's shirtless with the beaded necklace on. Maybe he's like a whole other letter on the queer spectrum. Jimsexual."

Dane laughed heartily. "He could be a huge flirt sometimes. Mostly he was quiet though, or he talked in riddles and poetry. I only ever saw him with women. I think half the men on this mountain were in love with him, and the other half were jealous as hell of him. Poor troubled soul. Tess was sure he wouldn't make it out of the sixties. He barely did."

"Such a loss."

"So many losses. But so much joy too."

"Were you happy? Your mom told me she always worried spending all your time with adults made you grow up too quick, and that she introduced you to adult stuff too early."

He frowned. "It was better than getting ignored or picked on in school. There, I was just a weirdo. An oddball. With Tess's crowd I was cute. Talented. ‘A little old man,' they called me, because I didn't act like a kid." He lifted his head to smile at me. "What were you like as a kid? Serious?"

"I kept to myself in school. With my dad being a cop, a lot of kids didn't trust me. It was either become a total delinquent to impress my friends, or hang out with the brainy kids who didn't care. I was in the cadet program, planning to become a cop. Whatever I could do to please my dad. So yeah, I guess I was pretty serious."

"What happened to your father?"

I hadn't had to explain it for a long time, maybe not since I'd met Brady. Everyone close to me knew.

"I'm sorry, is that not okay to ask? I don't even know who my dad is, so…"

"No, it's okay. Just haven't talked about it in a while. He committed suicide. He fought in Vietnam and battled privately with PTSD for years. He was convinced he'd seen your body that night. He'd gotten a call about some people partying at the rest area and stopped to talk to your bandmates, who were smoking weed. They said they were waiting for you and you'd been gone a long time. He was ticked off and went looking around. He found a garbage can knocked over in the bathroom and blood. He went out back with a flashlight and followed a trail to where he found you. He claimed that when he went back to his car to call for help, you'd disappeared. Then when we saw you at the carnival three years later… well, after that, your case hit a dead end and he began to unravel. When he started to have problems on the job, they put him on leave, but he didn't want to stop until he found out what happened to you. They took his badge and it was too much for him. Self-inflicted gunshot wound."

Dane was back at the side of the pool. "Walter, I'm sorry."

I shrugged and smiled. "He would be so relieved I found you. Alive."

He held out his hands. "And mostly in one piece."

I stood from the chair and walked over to the shelf where there was a stack of peachy towels. I grabbed one for him and held it up on the side of the pool."You're going to burn parts of you that the sun ain't supposed to shine on."

He ducked his head back, laughing, and smoothed down his hair once more. He pushed up and out of the pool. Thankfully it didn't appear to cause him pain, though the action made his skin stretch tight over the scars on his legs and shoulders.

Instead of taking the towel from me, he walked into it so I could wrap him up and hold him in my arms. He was shorter than me, maybe 5'7", and thin, but his bones were thick and strong. He exuded such resiliency. It shone so brightly in his eyes, giving him a fierce gaze. I'd never consider him fragile or unable to take care of himself. It was as if he was too stubborn to let what happened to him bring him down.

"See anything you liked while you were watching over me?" His eyes widened. "I can't believe I said that."

I let my hands settle at his lower back with the two ends of the towel. I'd trapped his arms inside, but he didn't seem alarmed.

"You know I did," I murmured. "You're beautiful, Dane."

He wrinkled his nose. "Not so much anymore. The scars kind of detract?—"

I pulled him in tighter, and he gasped.

"They show your strength. They mark you as a survivor, and that enhances your beauty in my eyes."

He lost a little of that bravado and let me see a glimpse of his vulnerable side. "Really?" His voice was so quiet, I might have missed what he said.

"So beautiful," I whispered, smoothing his hair behind his ear with one hand. "So strong."

He pushed up on his toes. "Beautiful enough to…"

It happened so fast—our lips found each other's across the decades, between the moments, and it took us both by surprise. But when I would have pulled back, he snaked his arm out and pulled me back in for a second, scorching kiss. Hotter than the sun. Face-meltingly hot. He was living heat like fire in my arms, molding against my body, filling in the spaces until there was no question.

Dane was real. He was alive. It was a miracle— he was a miracle—and my lips were drinking in the good news.

"I still feel like I'm dreaming," I spoke against his lips. The glide of his tongue over mine made me shudder. The feel of his fingers digging into my neck made me desperate for more of him. I wanted to devour him. I sucked on his bottom lip until he gasped, and then moaned happily.

"This isn't a dream, Walter. You're awake." He ground his pelvis against mine, and oh , was I awake. I felt more alive than I had in years.

"You've awakened me."

"Why do you smell like honey?"

"I—oh! My lotion? Mom volunteers at a co-op for seniors. One of the ladies makes it."

"I could just sink my teeth in here," he said, fingering my neck underneath my collar. He pushed up on his toes to nibble my jaw, and then he pressed his fingertips into my mustache. "And I love this. Feels so good."

"You're incredible." I held his face in both hands and gazed into his eyes. "I can't believe?—"

"Believe it. Touch me. Feel that I'm?—"

" Ohhhh, naked . Oh shit. Sorry, guys. I didn't mean to interrupt." Ryan laughed nervously as he covered his eyes with his sketchbook. "I just wanted to show you the sketch."

I wrapped the towel as much as I could around Dane and pulled him behind me. "Thank you, Ryan. We'll be right in."

"In any other situation I'd tell you to take your time, but I figure the sooner you find this guy, the sooner you two can?—"

"Right. Yes. Thank you."

"Thanks, Ryan." Dane placed an arm around my chest and peeked over my shoulder.

I reached behind me, giving his hip a squeeze. He gasped and buried his face in my back with a surprised laugh.

Ryan's cheeks reddened. "I'll just be inside."

When he turned, he whistled through his teeth, which had Dane laughing again."I know you're going to tell me to get dressed, but Walter…"

"I know. It'll have to be enough for now." I bent and took his lips once more, nibbling and sucking as I went.

"God, I love that mustache," he moaned. "I'm going to get dressed, but later? I need to feel it all over, you understand me?"

"Whatever you want, Dane. It's yours."

He grinned and backed away from me, wrapping the towel around his hips and tucking the end into the fold."Promise?"

He turned and went in the house before I could answer, which was probably for the best. I could barely think straight around him before he'd shown himself to me. Now that I'd tasted him? Anything less would be unbearable.

And I was ignoring the alarms shrieking in my head.

You're so going to get fired.

Dane came out of the bedroom a few minutes later in a black and white flannel shirt open to his navel and a pair of rust-colored corduroy flared pants. He'd put socks on and was combing his hair.

"Okay. Let's see what you've got," he said to Ryan. He plopped down on the couch next to him, and Ryan opened the sketchbook.

Dane visibly lost color in his face. His cheeks had been rosy when we were outside, that ruddiness that fair-complected people tended to get, especially after kissing, but now his skin was sallow, his dusty-rose lips colorless.

"That's exactly him. God, this is so real, like he could climb out of the picture." Dane pulled his hands back and curled them in his lap to avoid touching the paper.

"Here," Ryan said, turning the book around toward me.

"Jesus," I breathed. "He's a fucking horror show."

Ryan pointed out the attributes he remembered. Scars, moles, a cowlick in the front of his hair.

"The thing is, he'd probably blend in if he wasn't smiling. Here…" He flipped a couple of pages and turned it around again. "This is him without that creepy smile. You should probably send both."

I rubbed at my mustache. "Probably send it to local dentists too. They'd remember that smile if they ever worked on it."

Ryan used a ruler to rip the drawings carefully out of his sketchbook."Might have to burn my book after this. Fuck. Hey, Scott's got a scanner if you want to use it, it's in the office." He stood up to show me, and I followed.

"I'll be right back," I said to Dane, who now sank into the couch with his knees pulled up to his chest. I wasn't leaving the house, but he seemed on the verge of slipping away. I needed him to know I wasn't going anywhere.

He nodded slowly but didn't speak. The "hurry back" was in his eyes.

I followed Ryan to the office. He sat down at the desk and fired up the computer and three-in-one machine. "If you want to give me an email address, I can send it directly."

"Hey," I said, now that we were alone. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, rubbing at his neck. "I don't usually get spooked. I mean, there were some guys in prison I steered clear of for sure. I got my ass kicked, but the real creepy ones I was able to stay away from. This guy… I've never felt so repulsed. Like I said, he's normal-looking until he smiles, and then…" Ryan shuddered. "I don't ever want to see him again, and yet now that I've drawn him, he's like burned into the back of my eyelids."

"Is there anything else you remember? Like how tall? Weight?"

Ryan frowned. "Maybe like my height? Under six feet, I'm pretty sure. Not real muscly, but like one of those skinny guys who are freakishly strong, you know what I'm talking about?"

"Yeah. And his voice? Any accent?"

"Nah. He talks fast. Maybe he's got like a slight speech impediment or a lisp. There was something off about the way he talked."

"Could be all those teeth." I handed him my business card so he'd have my email address. "I'll forward it to the detective in charge and he can distribute it."

He turned around in his chair. "And how are you going to explain all this?"

I planted my hands on my hips. "That Dane described him to you, and you drew him. It's stretching the truth, but it's mostly true."

"I gotta say, you're the most chill cop I think I've ever met. Is that for real or are you just fucking with me?"

I laughed. "I haven't been accused of being chill before. You're catching me at the weirdest moment in my career, so I guess I'm off my game."

"How so?" He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned way back in the chair, dangerously close to having it tip over.

"I was a decent deputy in the county jail, a good street cop. I'm a great detective. My case closure rate is the highest in my department. But this one… this is the case that's haunted me for my whole life, and to have this guy get plopped in my lap forty years later? With a wild tale to tell? And as much as my cop brain is like, ‘take him in for questioning, do this by the book,' I don't quite think the book was written for this situation."

"No, it wasn't." He grinned. "You like him."

"I do, but it's more than that. He's a living puzzle, a mystery that I've spent most of my life trying to solve. Never in a million years would I have imagined that I'd find him alive and well, or that, you know…"

"You'd find him fine as fuck."

I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes as Ryan laughed at me.

"I mean, what the fuck are you supposed to do with that?"

"That's the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, Ryan. The smart move is for me to recuse myself, admit to my superiors I have a conflict of interest, and take a leave of absence."

"So will you? Let someone else take over?"

"No one else is going to believe him. Who's going to take care of him through the process? Who's going to keep him safe?"

Ryan nodded and bounced in the chair. "You. You're right. When I met Kal, it was not a good time. My band was on the verge of self-destruction, and he shows up all gorgeous, can't talk, and he's trying to protect me ? I knew something was off about him. I just knew. I had to make sure he was okay, and when I couldn't do that—I got my ass kicked and my band got kicked off the tour—I had to trust my friends to take care of him, and thank the goddess they did." He stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You can trust Kal and me to take care of him, but I think he wants you ."

"I want him, too." And I had no business admitting that.

Ryan's grin wasn't sleazy. It was sweet. I appreciated that.

"I'm worried. If this guy saw you and Kal at the rest stop, you're not safe either. You're high profile. He could find you. I don't like it."

"Maybe it's time to call in some reinforcements?"

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

We need a sitrep

It was Dax on the group text, looking for a report.

"I think you're right."