If It Made Sense, It Wouldn't Be a Mystery, Would It?

Chapter 12

POV: BRIAN- BACK TO THE PRESENT DAY AT THE LOFT

Grabbing The New York Times from the loft entrance, I hear the phone ring behind me. 'Who the fuck is calling at this hour?' I grumble to myself, before remembering that it's actually almost 12:30 in the afternoon. I slide the door shut and pad over to the phone. As I pick up, I hear Justin shut off the shower. Dammit. I was hoping to join him before he was finished.

"Yeah, what?" I mumble, squelching a yawn.

"Brian?"

"Mikey? Where... how are you? How's Hunter?" Then I think, "More importantly, how's my car? You better be checking the fluids and tires at every fucking stop you make, Mikey. That car cost me a fortune..."

I swear I can hear Michael rolling his eyes. Fucker. I'm glad I loaned the car to him, of course. But I still want him to take care of the thing. In the background I hear someone say, "Let me talk to him! Give me the phone!" Then I hear a small struggle. Hunter. Shit.

"Hey, Brian, what's up? You got some fucking cool wheels! Michael even let me drive yesterday afternoon! Sweeeeet!"

"He WHAT? Hunter, put Michael back on!"

Hunter ignores me. "So, Brian, have you missed me? I sure-"

"Put your fucking 'Paw' back on, Hunter! Mikey!!" I shout, hoping Michael will hear me if I'm loud enough. Fuck me…

I hear a little static and then, "Hunter! Fuck- give me that!"

"Michael!?" I am SO pissed.

"Yeah. I'm back. I swear to God, Brian, you have more teenaged stalkers than Britney Spears." Aside, I hear him hiss, "Hunter, QUIT IT!" Into the receiver, "Brian, Jesus Christ, the car's fucking fine. Listen-"

"Michael, don't you fucking DARE let that little shit drive my car! I swear, if you get a scratch, a ding, so much as a smudge of dirt on that car, I'm going to wring your neck!" Jesus. He let Hunter DRIVE?

There's a pause. I start to realize that I should really rearrange my priorities right now. I grit my teeth and force myself to calm down. "Forget it, Michael. Just be careful is all. Could you- listen, could you put Hunter back on?"

"But-"

"I have to talk to him- it'll only take a second. You're both doing alright, right?"

"Hunter- just a SECOND! Fuck!" Michael yells. "I'll put him on in a minute, Brian. I really don't want to talk long. And I can't say much- your phone may be tapped." I roll my eyes. Michael's imagination has always been vivid, but sometimes it's downright ludicrous. "We're fine. They've already taken Ben in for questioning- the less you know, the better. Have you talked to Ben? I haven't been able to reach him on his cell or at home- it's weird."

"No. But, it's all good…. Maybe he's in prison, getting soundly and thoroughly fucked." I joke. Not exactly the right moment for a joke, but what the fuck. I'm at the end of my fucking tether here.

"Shut up, Brian." Mikey says with a tone of exaggerated patience. "Listen, have you talked to Horvath today?"

"No. He said yesterday he was going to call me at some point today."

"Shit. Shit! Okay. Well, apparently," Michael then tells Hunter something unintelligible and after a few seconds, he says in a low voice, "Brian: Hunter's mom has been found dead. Ma said Horvath got a call from one of his friends on the force on his way over from your place yesterday afternoon..."

Holy shit.

"Hunter doesn't know yet."

"Well, he does now, if he's standing right fucking next to you!"

"I'm not an idiot, Brian! I sent him inside to buy some candy and soda for the road." He pauses. I get the feeling he's looking around to make sure that Hunter's still out of earshot. "Horvath said that they think she was killed early in the morning yesterday; she either lost control of her car, or was run off the road. On I-95. Fuck, Brian, this is all starting to fucking scare the shit out of me." Michael's whisper becomes desperate. My mind is racing. What the hell IS going on?

"Maybe it was just an accident...?"

"I don't know- but Brian, there's more- " Mikey suddenly shuts up. I hear Hunter's voice in the background, "Now can I talk to him? Here are your stupid Penis M&Ms..." I feel a little smile on my face, despite the conversation. Michael loves peanut- ur, penis M&Ms.

"Very funny, asshole." I'm actually impressed how Mikey completely alters his demeanor in front of Hunter, no indication in his voice that he's scared, that there's anything weird going on- well, nothing weirder than what Hunter already knows. More shuffling. Jesus. "Fuck it!"

"Brian?" Hunter.

Again in the background, "Hunter, we can't talk long- give me back the-"

Fuck. "Hunter, listen." I say.

"Get off me, Michael! Let go! He wants to talk to me!"

I sigh. I'm talking to fucking Mutt and Jeff here. This is too much and my wits are duller than usual- I just woke up, I haven't showered, I haven't had any coffee, and I have no fucking clue what to ask about first. But I know I have to get some kind of answer- answers- out of the kid. "Hunter- tell Michael to fuck off a minute."

"Brian says to fuck off!" I can hear the triumphant sneer in Hunter's voice.

"Fuck it. Hurry the fuck up. I have something really important to tell him so don't take all fuckin' day." Mikey sounds pissed. At the moment, I could care less.

Suddenly we're interrupted by a tinny voice, "You have one minute remaining. Please deposit..." Pause. "…$3.50 for the next 2 minutes. You have one minute remaining. Please deposit... $3.50 for the..."

FUCK!

"Hunter, listen to me! I need to know…" Fuck! What do I need to know again? My mind's muddy and all over the place at the same time. Why am I even involved in this fucking mess? "…Hunter, we need to know…" I run my fingers through my hair. "Listen, Detective Horvath was over here yesterday- why haven't you told him where you guys are? Why didn't you tell anyone you knew Reikert before you went out and fucked him...? I mean, fuck, he was seeing your dad- you knew that... And... and why didn't you let us know that you were good friends with Jason? That he was blackmailing Stockwell-? And Reikert believed that you were in on- " I hesitate- I realize as the words leave my lips that I sound like I'm cornering the kid, but there's no time to beat around the bush. Besides, being flat-out blunt is a Kinney family trait. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Justin wander up next to me, towel around his waist.

'Is that Hunter?' He mouths. I nod.

But, Hunter isn't talking. A few seconds tick by. "Hunter? Are you there?"

"Hunter?" I hear Mikey say. He must have grabbed the phone from the kid, because now he's talking to me. "What the fuck did you just say to him, Brian? Fuck! I told you he doesn't kn---"

"Mikey, stop! I didn't tell him what you just told me... just put him back on, okay? I don't have time! Or get out some more change for--"

Suddenly, "Hunter! Hunter, wait! Fuck!"

In the far distance, I hear Hunter, "Fuck! Get away from me! NO WAY!" and then something I can't make out. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Then there's a clunk like the receiver's been dropped and I vaguely hear the squeak of a sneaker followed by quickly retreating footsteps. I hold the phone out from my ear. Justin looks at me, puzzled.

"Fuck..." I mutter. "Fuck!"

"What? What happened? Brian! What--?"

I wave my hand angrily to get Justin to shut the fuck up, putting the phone back to my ear. "Mikey? Mikey! MICHAEL!" But all I can hear now is the sound of what I think is a highway, and the clang of a service station bell. Then, "You have 10 seconds remaining. Please deposit... $3.50 for the next 2 minutes..." I wait a moment listening to the incessant demand for more money until it's quite apparent they're both gone and not returning, the receiver probably dangling from payphone kiosk. I finally slam the phone down after I hear that fucking annoying bleep and the singsong, "If you would like to make a call, please hang up and..."

"'What happened?'??" I turn to face Justin, reiterating his question. "What happened is I fucking blew it!" Shit! I throw the newspaper across the room and it fans out, sliding across the hardwood floor in sections. Justin puts his hand on my shoulder. Or maybe it's been there. I don't fucking know. My muscles are kinking up and I can feel the beginning of a headache. "Hunter's mother is dead."

Justin just looks at me, stunned. I'm glaring. I'm pissed as hell at myself. At the fucking phone company. At everyone and everything. "How? When?"

"I guess Horvath heard about it yesterday while on his way from here to Debbie's. I guess she wrecked on I-95. It doesn't sound like another car was involved- or, rather, they don't know if she was run off the road, or if she lost control of the car."

"Does Hunter...?"

"No. Mikey hasn't told him."

"What did Hunter say about Reikert? About Jason and the blackmailing?"

I sigh, rolling my head and shrugging my shoulders trying to release the tension that's taken hold of my muscles. I vaguely feel Justin's hand massaging the knots that are building. "He didn't. He, well, I'm guessing he bolted as soon as I asked him. Then Michael must've run after him. I don't know."

Justin doesn't say anything; he just follows me into the bedroom. I sit on the edge of the bed, the only place in the fucking loft left to sit except for the stools in the kitchen. He climbs behind me, giving me a brief hug, then he focuses on massaging my neck, back and shoulders with both hands. God, he has such a strong, sensitive touch- must be all that sketching, painting, drawing- physical therapy- whatever the fuck it is, it works for me. "Fuck this. Fuck all of this. Let's get out of here."

Justin is quiet, continuing to knead my sore muscles. I find myself leaning into his hands, closing my eyes.

"Get out of here where?" Justin finally asks.

"I don't fucking know. I just want to get out of here." I'm mumbling. "And fuckin' Mikey thought I'd gone and told Hunter about his mother being dead. I may be a fucker, but I'm not a complete asshole."

Justin is quiet. Either he's coming up with a smartass remark, or he's thinking about something else. "Maybe we should try to find Gary..." His voice trails off as he continues to work the kinks out of my neck.

I hear myself chuckling slightly. "Mmm… you know what, Sunshine?" But I begin to lose my train of thought as Justin's hands work over the soreness between my shoulder blades. Had he not somehow known how tense I was getting, by now I would not only have a knotted up, clenched back and neck, but my head would be throbbing. God, he knows me too well. It's comforting. It's terrifying.

Justin pulls me back from my reverie, "What…? You think we should try to find him?"

"Yesss…" I sigh. "What I was going to say is that I was actually thinking the same thing. Sunshine, you're a fucking… Ouch!" I jump when he pushes on a particularly hard lump of knotted muscle.

"Sorry."

Wincing a moment, I continue, "No- that's okay- don't stop…" Under his thumbs, the pain soon gives way to relief. "…I was going to say that you're a fucking mindreader…"

Justin's hands suddenly stop moving. 'What gives?' I wonder. Justin's hands remain still at the base of my neck. After a moment, he gives a final, gentle squeeze and then wraps his arms around me, hugging me to him.

"I seem to be doing that a lot lately," he says quietly.

I lean back against him, savoring the feel of his soft naked skin on my bare back.

"Mmmmmm. You terrify the fuck out of me, Justin Taylor," I hear myself murmur. I feel half asleep. When I realize that I just said that out loud, I rouse myself; Justin's lips come to rest on the back of my neck in a gentle kiss- I can feel them curl into a slight smile.

"Be afraid. Be very afraid…" he whispers into my ear. Gawd. Besides The Yellow Submarine, he fucking loves those Addams Family movies. Movie tastes we do NOT have in common.

I force my eyes open and sit up fully. I turn my head to the short blond nymphomaniac behind me and give him a small kiss on the lips, lingering perhaps a bit longer than I intend- then I stand and pull my head to one side then the other to fully stretch out my neck.

"I'll make some coffee for the road. You shower. You stink."

"Fuck you," I smile, leaning down to give him another kiss. "That used to be my line…"

"A looooong time ago." Justin adds.

Yes. Thank God. Fucking Ian, I think.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After my shower I join Justin in the kitchen. He's screwing the lid onto a thermos. I reach over and pick up the address book Horvath had left on the counter the afternoon before.

"Hey, Justin?"

"Hm? What, you ready to go?" Justin's busy perusing one of the letters, munching on a piece of toast.

"In a second- first we have to find out where the hell we're going. What's Hunter's last name?"

"What?" He says, looking up at me having not really been listening.

"Hunter's last name. What is it?"

"Fuck if I know. Why?"

"Well," I emphasize every syllable: "I need to know it if we are go-ing to try to track down his dad." I get up and walk over to the stool where I'd dropped my jacket. I get my cell out and hit speed dial.

"Michael? You asshole! Is that you?" The phone didn't even fucking ring.

"No, Deb- It's Brian."

"Brian! Have you talked to Michael? I called him but he didn't answer, that little shit! I'm going out of my mind here! I'm so fucking worried!" I can hear Vic in the background saying something like, "Calm down, sis." Yeah, fat chance, Vic. "Did you hear about Hunter's mother?"

"I heard. Mikey called me this morning- I think they're okay, Deb. I mean, Mikey's scared, but he's handling things okay with Hunter." I choose not to go into how the conversation 'ended'. "I didn't get a chance to ask Michael if they still have to be on the run... I mean, now that Hunter's mother's dead..."

"Carl says that they shouldn't have run in the first place! And there's no reason to be on the road now, he says. He told Michael to bring Hunter home, but he fucking refused. He'll hardly talk to him- or me, for that matter! He's being so goddamned stubborn and reckless! He could go to jail, Brian!"

"Mikey refused to come home?"

"Fucking flat out refused, and then hung up! He's being an idiot, Brian. Something's wrong. I can feel it. Something more than just Hunter running away from his mother... Something's fucking wrong!"

Well, no shit, Sherlock, I think to myself. Of course something's wrong. "Try not to worry, Deb- he's a big boy, and it's not like the fucking mob is after them. It's just the law- they won't shoot first and ask questions later..." I pinch the bridge of my nose. The fucking headache is beginning again. "Deb, I actually called because Justin and I want to try to find Hunter's dad. It seems the two of them actually got along pretty well- at least from what I can gather after reading the letters Carl brought over yesterday. Hunter's dad might be able to help with this custody situation. Also, he may have some answers about the link between Stockwell and Reikert's death. Er, and Kemp's. Horvath told you about all that shit, right?"

"Of course he did- that's yet another reason he wants Michael to bring Hunter back! But what the hell, I don't know Hunter's fucking father. What can I tell you? Carl said that he'd already been to the guy's house, but no one was there."

God, my head is now throbbing. "What's Hunter's last name?"

"What? His what? His last name? Why the hell do you want to know that?"

Jesus, just answer the question. "Because I assume it's Gary's too...?" I say, trying to be patient.

"Oh. Um. Let me think…. It begins with 'M'…" Debbie is quiet a few moments. "Montgomery. It's Montgomery."

Montgomery. "Thanks, Deb. Look, I'll talk to you later- if you hear from Mikey, call me on my cell, okay? And you gave Horvath my number?"

"Yeah. You be careful, Brian Kinney. And don't you fucking let anything happen to Sunshine!"

I roll my eyes and flip the phone closed. What am I, his fucking keeper? Whatever the fuck.

"So.... it's Montgomery." I flip through the address book to get to the 'M's'. "Bingo. 1345 E. King Street, number 5." Justin peeks over to see the address.

"No shit."

"What?"

"That's… er, that's. That's… close to where Ethan lives." Justin looks at me. Uh-huh. What the fuck?

"Well, that's just dandy, Sunshine! We can stop in and say 'hi'. I'm sure that Ian will be very happy to see you." Jesus. "Get ready. We're going."

"What are you going to talk to him about?"

"What else? His dead lover, his dead lover's fuck buddy, his son, his ex-wife, murdering people. All of it." I head into the bedroom to get my shoes. "Get dressed, Sonny Boy! Field trip!"

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