Appearances, copyright 2006, by Etienne. All rights reserved.

-4-

Home with Charles

As Charles drove us to his townhouse, he had fallen temporarily silent and seemed to be concentrating on the late night traffic, which in Atlanta, is always heavy. In a way, I was glad of the respite from small talk, as I needed a chance to collect my wits. So much had happened this evening. For that matter, so much had happened over the past two weeks or so. At times it all seemed like a hazily remembered dream, then something or other would hit me with a harsh dose of reality and I would realize that it had not been a dream.

One thing was very clear to me. I was or perhaps soon would be entrusting my freedom - perhaps even my life - to this young lawyer, who had the saddest brown eyes I have ever seen - except for the sad part, they were puppy dog eyes, in spades. I also saw, although with less clarity, that I was well on the way to entrusting my heart to him as well. I had been in 'lust' countless times over the years, but could not remember ever having been truly in 'love,' except perhaps for a juvenile infatuation when I was seventeen. That was so long ago, it hardly seemed to matter, or count. I was still lost in thought when we turned into a driveway, and he reached for a garage door opener which was clipped to the visor over the driver's seat.

The garage door closed behind us automatically, and we got out of the car. I was touched when he took my hand, opened the garage door again, and led me around to the front entrance before closing the garage.

"There is a back way up," he said, "but I'd like to take you through the front door, at least this once."

He unlocked and then opened the front door, and we stepped into an attractively decorated foyer which opened to the living room beyond. We walked up to the kitchen on the second floor, and as soon as he had opened the door, we were immediately and enthusiastically greeted by an Irish Setter. Charles commanded “Lance, Heel,” and the dog settled down on his haunches and looked intently at us.

“I forgot to mention the beast,” he said. “Philip, this gorgeous creature is Sir Lancelot of Buckhead.” He looked at the dog. “Lance, this gorgeous creature is Philip.” Charles looked at me. “Hold out your right hand.”

I did as instructed, and Lance raised his right paw and patted my extended hand.

Charles gave me a whirlwind tour, still holding hands, but it was all a blur. The tour ended in the master bedroom. He turned, looked at me, and smiled.

"Coffee, tea, or me?"

"You'll do very nicely," I said, and we went to bed.

With the lights still on beside the bed, we enjoyed each others bodies leisurely and at length, and then dozed off without bothering to turn out the bedside lamp. I woke up some time later, a little disoriented by being in a strange room. Lance was curled up on the foot of the king-sized bed, and I realized where I was. I also realized that there were sounds coming from elsewhere in the house, and that said sounds were what had awakened me. I nudged Charles, who raised up, mumbled something, and rolled back over. I nudged him again and this time he seemed to wake up.

"What is it?"

"I hear noises. I think there is somebody in the house."

"Oh, that's just Richard coming back from a night out," came the sleepy reply from Charles.

About then, a deep baritone voice called out, first from a distance, then growing louder as it grew nearer.

"Hey, Charley boy, your light is still on, are you still up? Wait til' you hear what I ran into this evening, you'll never believe...." There was a pause, followed by an explosive "Holy Shit!"

I sat up and blinked just in time to see a good-looking blonde of medium height and build standing in the open doorway, clearly taken aback at what he saw in the room. He was wearing only a rumpled pair of light blue bikini style briefs, which had several conspicuous dark stains across the front of them, and his body was covered from neck to legs with a thick mat of blonde hair. Lance got up, walked over to the blonde, and sniffed him in the crotch.

He leaned against the door jamb. "Sooooo," (he made the word last about sixty seconds, dragging it out for several syllables) "the heart of stone has melted at last. It’s about fucking time." He simultaneously, and good naturedly, shooed Lance away.

By this time, Charles was wide awake, and sitting up in bed as well.

"Richard. Don't you ever knock?"

"What's to knock upon, boyo, or for that matter, for? The door was open. Besides what would I expect to see in this room for the last three years, except you jerking off."

"Well, at least if you are going to invade my bedroom when I'm entertaining, you could wear something other than your cum-stained trick shorts."

He looked down at himself in mock horror. "Those are not cum stains. Well, at least not from tonight. I'll have you know that I didn't waste any bodily fluids tonight." This was said with a slight leer. "If they bother you, I can take them off." As he said the words, he reached for the waistband of his shorts.

"Oh, please," laughed Charles, "spare us."

Richard folded his hands across his chest, at that. "Where are your manners, boy? Aren't you going to introduce me to the person who finally brought you back to the land of the living?"

"I'm sorry. Philip, this rude fellow is Richard Greene - my best friend since seventh grade. Richard, this is Philip d'Autremont."

Richard walked over to the bed and I shook the proffered hand. We exchanged pleasantries, and Charles explained both my legal situation and that he might be representing me. Richard had tactfully (I thought) refrained from saying that he had seen me all over the news, which he doubtless had.

Charles said to Richard, "Are you still seeing that twinkie from the D A's office?"

"Well, I'm no longer seeing him in the biblical sense, but I do run into him from time to time. I saw him for half a minute tonight at the Armory, and he made it clear that he still has a thing for me. Why?"

"I want you to find out from him, if you can, what the D A is planning to do with this murder case. I would like to not have any surprises on this one, if at all possible."

"Will do." He paused. "Well, I guess I'll leave you two alone to whatever it was you were doing," he said with a smirk.

"And close the door behind you."

"Yes sir," and he left and closed the door. I noticed, as he left, that his back was covered with blonde hair as well. He was truly a walking teddy bear.

Charles turned to me. "Sorry about that. Richard is always a little larger than life, if you know what I mean, but we have been friends forever. He is also a super sleuth. Several law firms, my own included, keep his Agency on a retainer and very busy."

I laughed. "I think you gave him a bit of a shock tonight."

"Well, as I told you it’s been a very long time. A little over three years, to be precise. Everyone I know, Richard included, has tried to fix me up, but I just wasn't ready." He smiled, "Or, perhaps I was waiting for you to come along."

I really didn't know what to say to that, so I smiled back.

He yawned. "You know what would feel good right now?"

"I can't imagine."

"A nice hot shower - for two, of course - and then lights out for the night."

I had to admit that the activities of the evening had left me feeling more than A little bit sticky, so we went into the master bathroom, which opened directly off of his bedroom.

We were in the shower for a very long time. After we were dry, he produced two robes - an old one and a new one, giving me the latter. We came out of the bathroom to find Richard, himself clad in a terry cloth robe, sitting on the edge of the bed with Lance’s head in his lap. Lance seemed to have taken over a spot on the corner of the bed.

Charles feigned anger. "You again. I thought I asked you to knock."

"I did, but there was no answer. Don't get your knickers in a twist, boyo, this is business." His tone now was as serious as the previous banter had been light.

"What do you mean?"

"I just talked to Bruce."

"Who the fuck is Bruce?"

"The twinkie in the D A's office, who else. Since I had seen him very briefly, earlier this evening and gotten definite signals, I decided to call him. I didn't even have to do any prompting to steer him around to the murder case, seems as though it is on the tip of everybody's tongue in that office. I didn't even have to promise him my body." He managed to sound almost disappointed at this.

"Did you find out what they are planning to do?"

"Damn straight. They are going to wait until five o'clock tomorrow afternoon, and then issue a warrant for Philip's arrest."

"What brought that on, did he say?"

"Some ass-kisser in the department got wind of Philip's sexual orientation, and decided to curry favor by telling Wetherbee about it, with embellishments, no doubt. As you might suppose, the very hint of a 'queer' angle to the case was like waving a red flag at a bull. They are going to railroad this through any way they can. Word is out that the police aren't even doing any more serious investigating. They think they've got a patsy."

"The bastards. A late Friday arrest would mean no chance of an arraignment and bail hearing before Tuesday morning, what with the holiday weekend."

"Yup. Our boy Wetherbee thinks he has got a sitting faggot for a target, and wants him in the cooler all weekend so they can grill him."

Suddenly Charles was all business. "Well, then, we'll just have to beat them at their own game. Philip, is there any reason at all why you have to go home tomorrow?"

"None that I can think of, except I have no clothes. Wait a minute, I am currently taking antibiotics for a sinus infection and I really shouldn't go more than a couple of days without my prescription."

"Well, clothes won't be a problem. You are about the same size as Robert was, and there are lots of perfectly good clothes here that will fit you. Also, plenty of spare shaving gear and stuff. As for your prescription, I assume it is at your house."

"Well, there is a bottle there, and also one at my apartment."

"The house certainly wouldn't be safe. Where is the apartment?"

"Not too far from here, actually. Off Piedmont, in the Ansley area behind Gene & Gabe's Restaurant."

"Any problem drawing a map of how to find them and letting Richard go fetch it?"

"Not at all."

"Good, we can take care of that first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, I have a plan."

"What?"

"I don't know if I told you, but I was planning to fly down to Florida tomorrow afternoon for a weekend at my beach place. I think instead, that I'll leave first thing in the morning. You will come with me." The way he said it, it was not a request.

"I'm not sure I understand how that will help the situation."

"Simple. We'll spend a long weekend at the beach place, and fly home early Tuesday morning just in time for you to 'discover' that there is an arrest warrant out for you. We will then go to the police station, where you will turn yourself in and I will begin the process of getting you back out again on bail. You'll be in by nine and back out by two or three."

"You make it sound so simple."

"It is, when you understand the system. You can even make it work for you at times. One thing, though. We will have to plan ahead for the bail." He saw my look of bewilderment, and continued "Bail can be either in the form of a cash bond, which is recovered after the trial is over, or a bail bond, which typically costs about 10% of the amount of the bail. In a murder case, the best we could hope for is bail in the neighborhood of $250,000. You'll have to tell me whether you prefer to (or can) lay out the cash, knowing you will get it all back, or come up with a 10% premium, which will be non-refundable. In either case, the funds need to be in my firm's trust account by Tuesday morning, - they will take our check but they would not take a check from you. The choice is yours."

"No problem. I can call my broker in the morning at home. He and I had discussed liquidating some securities that were not doing too well, anyway. I can give him a sell order, and have him either wire the funds to your trust account later tomorrow, or even send a check over by courier."

"A wire will work just fine. We work out the particulars in the morning." He looked at Richard. "Are you working on anything in particular at the moment?"

"Nothing I can't turn over to one of my grunts."

"Good. If your little friend is correct, you are going to have to find the killer for us with no help from the police. I want you on it first thing tomorrow. For now, lets all get some sleep. We can have a council of war over breakfast."

Richard left, this time not forgetting to close the door. Charles set his alarm for 6:45, which was barely four hours away. After we got back in bed, he turned the lights off, rolled over and held me tight.

"Scared?"

"A little."

"No need to be, at this point."

"Easy for you to say."

"I know it’s easier said than done, but don't worry. We will get through this with flying colors."

"If we are taking a plane tomorrow, shouldn't I be making a reservation? It might not be possible to get a seat on such short notice, what with the holiday weekend and all."

"You already have a seat."

"I don't understand."

"I fly my own plane for short trips like this. You'll be in the copilot’s seat." Without waiting for my response, Charles looked at Lance and pointed to the corner of the room where I now perceived what appeared to be a round doggie bed. “Lance, bed,” was all Charles said, and the dog gave him a hang dog look before jumping off the bed and curling up on his own bed.

Unable to top that, I said something banal in reply and we went to sleep in each other's arms.