Chapter 17

Seventeen

D ane

It was nice to know that not everything had changed. Yes, the Rainbow was different, but I could still feel the same energy within the walls of the place as I did in the early years. The owners had lovingly preserved what I cherished about the place. I thought about the small bar upstairs, and the tiny corner Alice Cooper, Mickey Dolenz, and others had made their own. The Hollywood Vampires lair.

I hadn't made it in the door. I wasn't much of a drinker, and I was afraid of what I saw happening to the people who were drinking so heavily. Marijuana was different. Even the mushrooms my mom peddled didn't have the same effect. People like Jim Morrison and Keith Moon did some wild things while drunk, and it scared me. I didn't want to be out of control like that. What if I acted on my true desires? What if I slipped up and everyone found out I was homosexual?

As much as I missed my friends and the life I had back then, how wonderful was this time? I could touch Walter in public! I could tell him how I felt, ask him for what I wanted… The closeness I'd craved when I was young, a love like Joni and Graham, or Ray Manzarek and his wife, it could be possible now. I could talk about music with him, and he could introduce me to all the new things.

As long as the man who attacked me or this new blood-crazed maniac didn't find me first.

I made up my mind. When I got back to the house, I would use the board again. Whatever I had to do in order to end this as quickly as possible and move on with my life.

I used the toilet and washed my hands, taking a moment to look at myself in the mirror. I could live with the scar on my face, especially since Walter didn't seem to mind it. The others on my body bothered me, though. It was hard to look at myself and not think about what happened.

I opened the door, and Walter's gaze flicked to mine. He held out his hand to me with a warm smile on his face.

"Dane. Look." He pulled me in front of him and pointed at the wall above our heads.

It was a framed photograph of a group of what folks used to refer to as "long-haired hippie types," but when I looked closer…

"Oh Walter! It's Tess and me! And Nat, and that was Buddy, Tess's drummer, and Roger, her bass player. It's our band. Oh my God. It's us!"

Walter looked around before reaching up and pulling the picture off the wall. The frame was worn and the image was faded, but it was us. I was wearing a cream shirt with a big collar, my funky brown hat that I thought kind of made me look a little like David Crosby, even though I couldn't grow a mustache to save my life. Maybe that's why I loved Walter's so much.

I ran my finger over the image of Tess, and my eyes burned with tears. I couldn't believe she was gone. In my mind we'd barely been apart. When we dropped her at the airport, I assumed I'd be seeing her in a few days. Then I forgot everything while I was at the carnival, but still. It only felt like weeks that I'd been gone.

Tess had been my confidante, my best friend, my biggest fan for twelve years. What would she say if she could see me now, in these borrowed clothes, with this wonderful man who took such good care of me? I would have done anything for her. Maybe finding these killers would be a way to honor all she did for me.

"Here," Walter said, taking the frame from me. "Let me get a picture for you." He set the frame on the railing, and he held his fancy phone over it. He tapped the screen, then looked at it. "See? Now you can take the picture with you." He handed me his phone and reached up and rehung the frame.

"That's amazing. You can take pictures of pictures! Can you print them out from this thing too?"

He shrugged. "You can still get prints made, but they have digital frames now so you don't even have to have the paper copies if you don't want. Are there any other pictures you want me to take?"

I perused the pictures along the wall and laughed. "I remember that night! John Lennon wanted to join the Hollywood Vampires drinking club. They all got so drunk. We left early and they were still drinking." I shook my head. "Amazing that any of them survived."

"Well, Alice Cooper stopped drinking. Some of the others weren't so lucky." He glanced at me. "I'm sorry, I know you weren't ready to hear that."

"It's okay." I looked around to be sure we were alone. "Thank you, Walter. For everything. For making this easier."

He smiled almost shyly and took my hand. "I'm happy to."

"Can I kiss you again?" I whispered, leaning closer.

He licked his lips and took my jaw in his other hand. "You can have whatever you want," he whispered back before he pressed those plump lips against mine, slid his tongue over mine, and moaned softly. He pulled back, searching my eyes. "This okay?" he asked.

"I want more."

Oh, he gave me more. He pressed my back against the wall, nudged my thighs apart with one of his and he grabbed me by the belt, holding me in place while he licked and sucked at my mouth, his stubble rubbing me raw in the best way. My hard cock was caught between us and the friction of his movements heightened every sensation.

"Please say what happened earlier can happen again? Soon?"

He chuckled and pulled away. I was glad to see him breathing hard, as well.

"I would love that. But I need to feed you."

I moaned. "Yes, I'd like that, too." Okay, maybe licking my lips was overkill.

His laughter froze and his eyes went all hungry again. "Oh God, Dane."

He took my face in his hands just as laughter broke out at the top of the stairs, followed by the gasps of a couple of teenage girls.

"Oh! Sorry, we didn't?—"

"It's okay," Walter said. He took my hand. "Our food should be there by now," he said very seriously as he led me past the girls.

"Aw, they're so cute," one of them said to the other as we descended the stairs.

"I wish my boyfriend would kiss me like that," the other said.

"Sorry about that," Walter muttered.

"Do not be sorry. As long as no one's going to call the cops on us or kick our asses, you can do that anytime, anyplace."

He stopped me at the bottom of the stairs. "One, I am the cops. And two, no one will ever lay a finger on you ever again, you understand me?"

I got the flutters all the way down to my groin at his fierce tone. This man .

I nodded and smiled at him as he scowled and led me by the hand back to the table.I hiked up my pants as I trotted after him and prayed the whole restaurant couldn't see just how turned on I was.

Gene's knowing smile when we got back to the table answered that question.

"Find the restroom okay?" he asked Walter, who flipped him off.

"Great! Food just got here," Ryan said. "Never fails. Food always comes when someone goes to the bathroom." He winked at me as I sat down next to Kal.

"Everything okay?" Kal asked me quietly.

"Yeah," I said. "Walter? Can I see your thingie?"

Denny shook his head while Gene snorted. "Thought that's what upstairs was for?"

"Fuck off," Walter said, his cheeks so red, but he laughed. He pulled his phone out, tapped it a few times, and then handed it to me with a shy smile. I loved how flustered he got.

"Look what we found," I said, showing Kal and Ryan the picture.

Their eyes went wide, as if things got a little more real for them right then. I'd had no doubt that they believed me before, especially Kal, but now there was photographic proof in this historical place.

"Let me see that," Denny asked, so I handed him the phone.

"It was upstairs near the bathrooms," Walter said.

Denny looked between me and the photo, then passed the phone to Gene, who muttered "holy motherfucker" or something like that, and shook his head before handing Walter back his phone.

"Unreal," Denny said, and Walter nodded.

"Henry Diltz took that, I think, if I'm remembering the night correctly. He used to hang out with Tess a lot," I offered. "He used to get pictures of everyone."

"Right," Denny said. "He's good."

"Yeah," I said. "I wonder if he's still around? He took pictures at Tess's place. Maybe there are some of the guy?—"

The server came with the rest of our plates, and I decided maybe I didn't want to be discussing this in front of other people.

The pasta looked amazing, and Walter offered me bites of his. "Whichever one you prefer. I'll eat whatever you don't want."

I pressed my hand to my chest, I couldn't help it. He was so damned kind.

Denny and Gene both looked between us, worry on their faces. I wondered why?

"It was just a thought," I finished.

Walter slid his hand onto my thigh and squeezed gently. I liked the weight of it, the warmth through the denim. His hand was huge. It practically encircled my whole leg.

Denny leaned closer and said, "We're going to see Evans tomorrow. I'll get a recording of his voice and then maybe we'll know something more, okay?"

I nodded and glanced at Walter, who was suddenly very focused on his food.

Ryan entertained us with the story of the first time he and his band performed in LA, how he messed up the words to one of Guns ‘n' Roses' songs, "Night Train," in front of Slash because he was so nervous, and then ended up partying with the band late into the night.

"I apologized profusely to him. He shrugged and said, ‘One of the reasons I don't sing, man. I'd forget the words to the songs I wrote.'"

"Try singing a Bob Dylan song in front of Bob Dylan and fucking it up," I murmured—and the whole table erupted in disbelief.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Bob fucking Dylan ?" Denny's mouth hung open while Walter shushed everyone.

"Yeah, at the Troubadour," I said in a lower voice. I got the giggles at their expressions. "He came a few times. I'd been practicing ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues.' It's a hard song to sing, but I loved it. I didn't know he was there, but then I spotted him, and I just lost it. I played some complicated guitar solo that didn't even make sense with the song and then left the stage, even though I was supposed to play three more songs. Tess met me backstage with a joint and a hug and she took me home, told me not to worry about it. Said so many people were mobbing him, talking to him about nonsense, that he probably couldn't even see who was onstage." Poor Tess. "She was good like that."

The server came back and asked if we wanted dessert, but everyone said they'd had enough. I'd noticed that the restaurant had filled considerably while we were eating, and there was a line outside the door. Denny and Gene were getting a bit twitchy.

Walter reached for the check, and my stomach dropped.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to him. "I can't pay. I had money at one point. I wonder if the label gave it to my mom?"

Walter slid his credit card into the folio and handed it back to the server. "Don't worry about it."

Kal leaned over. "Check the billfold."

I didn't want to remind him it was empty in front of Walter and his friends, so I did as he asked.

I leaned a little to the side and slid the leather from my back pocket. When I opened it, I saw that, no, it wasn't empty.

"Whatever you need will be there." He nodded and then went back to listening to Gene and Ryan talk.

I ran my finger over the… California Driver's License?

Dee Dee Miller.

And my mom's address.

There was also a Visa card, and in the long pocket, several green bills.

I closed it quickly and slid it back into my pocket before Walter noticed.

Holy shit .

Walter finished filling out the receipt and he turned to me. "I don't know for sure, but since you were never declared deceased, they should still be paying your royalties. Anything that was in your accounts should be there. Was your mother's name on them?"

"Yeah, actually. I wasn't eighteen yet when I signed my first band contract so everything had her name on it. Never got around to changing it. I hope they're still paying. Otherwise, I left her with nothing?—"

"Oh, trust me, she's doing just fine," Walter said, resting his hand on my leg once more, this time sliding his fingers along my inner thigh. "Her art continues to fetch her up to hundreds of thousands of dollars. Not to mention she owns her house outright, and those houses up there are worth millions."

"In the canyon?" I gawked at him. "That funky place?"

"Thanks to you and your pals," Denny said with a laugh. "It became some of the hottest real estate in one of the most expensive cities to live in."

"Yeah," Gene said. "There's a reason my wife and I moved from here to Bakersfield, and it ain't the scenery."

Walter and Denny laughed at him, and Ryan joined in.

"Yeah, I sold my place in Lauren Canyon last year for close to seven mil. Not that I saw any of it, thanks to my asshole fucking bandmates. We had fines to pay after we got dropped from Warped Tour and then broke our contract. It's fine, though. All worth it, right, husband?" He leaned over and nibbled on Kal's earlobe, making the big blond man blush profusely.

"It wasn't your fault. I still think it was wrong what happened." His gaze flicked around the table before he gave Ryan a sad look.

"Are we ready to take off?" Gene asked, standing up from the booth and letting Kal and Ryan out. "Speaking of spouses, I told mine I'd be home before midnight."

"Thanks, man," Walter said to him. He and Gene hugged, and they spoke quietly to each other.

"Stay beside me. Close," Denny said, grabbing my arm firmly, and as we moved away from the table, Walter stepped in behind me, right on my heels. Gene took the lead and Kal once more blocked Ryan with his body. Their movements made things real again. It took the lightheartedness out of the past hour.

Once we were on the sidewalk, I looked down the street and exhaled.

"You okay?" Walter asked me.

"The Whisky and The Roxy are still here," I said, breathing a little easier. "And Ryan said the Troubadour was still open too. Some things made it."

" You made it," he said. "Let's get you home. Did you get enough to eat?"

Walter suddenly stumbled and pushed me against the wall of the Rainbow as Denny shouted and blocked me with his body.

A man with a hooded shirt like mine had knocked into Walter as he passed.

"Everyone okay?" Gene asked.

"I'm okay," I said, though my hands had started shaking again.

"Walter?"Denny said, looking him over.

He nodded, but when I looked down, I noticed he had his gun in his hand.

He tucked it into the holster on the belt of his jeans. He and Denny spoke to each other in hushed voices, and then they moved us all toward the vehicles. When we reached the truck, Walter held open the door for me and took my hand as I stepped up and into the cab.

"Thank you," I said, but he only nodded and closed the door before he and Denny went back to their discussion.

I looked up the block, and I could see the guy who'd run into us. He was standing on the edge of the sidewalk watching the traffic go by, and then he darted across the street, causing cars to honk and swerve around him.

"What is he doing?"

Once he reached the opposite side of the street, he turned and faced my direction and stood there, motionless.

Then he smiled.

My pulse sped up. It can't be.

Walter and Denny climbed into the truck, still arguing, and I grabbed Walter's arm.

"Do you see?" I pointed as he started the truck. As the engine caught, the lights flicked on and illuminated the hooded figure. It reflected off his eyes. And his teeth.

"Fuck me." Walter put the truck in gear and it lurched forward. The man turned and ran.

"What the—" Denny hadn't put his seat belt on, and he was tossed to the side.

"It's him."

"Jesus, Walter?—"

" It's fucking him! Hang on."

He pulled the truck up to the intersection, but there was no traffic light and no way to get across the heavy traffic.

"He turned down that next block," I said, watching the hooded figure disappear around the corner. I wanted nothing to do with catching him, but I knew that was the end game.

"How the fuck did he find us?"

"He had to be watching the house and saw us leave," Walter said. "He was probably watching us in the restaurant. Fuck , that was too close."

Denny called Gene in the next vehicle and told him what we were doing."Get the others back to the house?—"

"No," Walter interrupted him. "He probably knows where we're staying. We need to hole up somewhere?—"

"Wait, Walter," I said. "Wouldn't this be a good way to catch him?"

Walter was stuck. He couldn't cross the busy street and he couldn't back up, and the people behind us were honking. Ryan's truck was still at the curb.

"Shit. Tell Gene to follow me. Let's at least get out of this area. If he's on foot, he won't catch up to us right away."

Walter turned onto Sunset and went around the block, then turned left at a traffic light on Sunset, which would take us back to Laurel Canyon. But instead, he turned right into the parking lot of a store called Trader Joe's. Denny told Gene where to find us and Ryan's truck pulled in a moment later.

"Dude," Ryan said when he pulled up next to Walter's side. "You can't have me driving like a maniac. You do remember what I went to prison for."

"You're fine," Gene said. "Cop, remember? Now, what the fuck was that?"

"Pretty sure that was the Buttonwillow suspect," Walter said, and hearing it come out of his mouth had me ready to?—

"Dane!"

I opened the door, took three steps out, and hurled into the bushes. The whole time my body was purging itself, I was cursing my weak constitution. I needed to get it together, and I needed to be insistent.

Walter was at my side when I stood.

"I'm sorry to waste dinner," I said, and when he went to argue, I held up my hand. "I can't live like this, Walter. I can't run. I need to face this. If he knows we're at the house, then he'll come back, right?"

"Dane, you can't?—"

"Send Kal and Ryan away but let him come for me."

" Dane —"

"He's right," Gene said. "Fuck this. Let's get some guys up here in hiding. Let's fucking invite him in. If he's coming for us , then he's not out there killing anyone else."

Walter looked like he was about to explode.

"Let's take it a step further," Denny said. "Hear me out," he added, holding up a hand to Walter. "Let's announce we've identified a person of interest in the murder at Buttonwillow, and he's been seen in Los Angeles. On the news. He won't be able to hide if everyone is looking for him, and if LA can be counted on for anything, it's for catching killers."

"Fuck yeah," Ryan said. "Like they did with Richard Ramirez. Let's do it!"

"Have you lost your fucking minds!?" Walter got up in Denny's face. "I'll take Dane away from here! I've got a guy with the marshal service. I'll get him into protective custody?—"

"Walter?"

He turned on me, and the whites of his eyes were completely visible. He was vibrating when I put a hand on his arm.

"Can you guys give us a minute?" I asked Denny and Gene. They moved a few steps away to check on Ryan and Kal. Walter led me closer to the truck so we'd have cover.

"I'm sorry, my breath must be terrible?—"

"Forget it," he said. "Dane, I'm not using you as bait. We'll catch him some other way."

"But I left the carnival to stop him. I came here to stop him. I have to do this. If he hurts anyone else, then I've failed."

"I can't lose you!" he whispered fiercely.

"And I can't live like this," I whispered back. "I don't want to hide. I won't be able to have any sort of life until he's caught, and I want that." I wanted all kinds of things—most importantly, I wanted more time with Walter.

His expression was unreadable, but then he yanked me to him and wrapped me in a vise-like embrace. "I want that, too. But I won't put you in danger."

"We're already in danger."

He pulled back, gazing into my eyes with an expression of helplessness. It was the first time I felt like we were on an even playing field… for all the wrong reasons.