phone with an ease that belied how little I’d called it over the past two and a half years.
A Red-Tainted Silence
59
I waited for its ring as I sat on the edge of the bed. “Come on, come on,” I whispered, casting a glance at Nicholas. He’d clenched his hands to his chest as if he were praying.
Perhaps he was.
“Hello?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s Brandon. Where’s Barkley.”
“Hey, bro, what’s up? Barkley’s right here. Why?” And I heard the anxious canine snuffling. “Get down, Barkley, shit dog. Sorry, Brandon, he jumped on me when he heard his name.”
I reached out, stroked Nick’s face. He’d been holding his breath as I talked, staring through the bedrail. He’d had a hell of a cruel shock, and fury pumped through me, but I fought to calm my voice. “Nicholas, he’s still with my brother. He’s fine. That wasn’t him.” Nicholas turned to me, disbelief on his face. He reached for my hand and I held on to him, tight. “Are you sure?” he said.
I turned back to the phone. “Can Nicholas talk to him?” My brother didn’t laugh at the odd request. “Brandon, what’s going on?” I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight, and took a deep breath as my chest finally loosened. “Someone sent a package to Nicholas, made it look like ... like Barkley.”
“Oh, shit. Someone sent him a dead dog?”
“I think so. I haven’t seen it.”
“Shit, yeah, put Nicholas on. Come here, Barkley -- Hey, easy dog!” I handed the phone to Nicholas. He took it from me, his gaze holding mine as he hesitated. I nodded in encouragement, and he put the phone to his ear.
“Barkley? You there, bud?” he said, his voice soft, unsure. Eyes shut, he clenched my hand once, then released it to wipe away his tears. He smiled at me and nodded, relief flooding his face. “Okay. Good. That would be ...” He sighed. “... wonderful.” I brushed away his tears myself, then bent down and kissed him briefly on the lips before pulling back. I looked up at the detective -- sympathy and a hard edge of anger similar to what I was feeling ghosted his face. Nicholas ended the call and handed the detective his telephone. “Thank you, detective.”
“Get some rest, Mr. Kilmain. I want to talk to Mr. Ashwood for a few minutes.”
“Brandon, your brother’s going to bring Barkley to me. They’re leaving tomorrow.” I nodded. We’d already planned on that. We’d been going to surprise Nicholas, but this was probably best. Barkley would go nuts when he saw Nicholas again after so long, and it would be good for him to have his dog around until we could get out of here. He loved that dog. That dog was his family, like his child.
And whoever had done this to him, sent that package, knew it.
60 Carolyn Gray
“Good. By the time they get here, we’ll be out of this place, I promise,” I said, stroking his jaw line with one finger.
He smiled tiredly and leaned into my touch. Then he took a deep breath; a little color had returned to his face. “Hey, what time is the press conference?” The detective grimaced. “We’ll cancel it.”
Nick’s eyes widened and his gaze flicked to me. “No, we can’t do that. I’m fine now.” I hesitated, but the detective said, “We could postpone it for a couple of hours. Give you time to recover a bit.”
I glanced at my watch. “Three now. Six?”
The detective nodded and left the room for a moment. When he was gone, Nicholas and I said nothing to each other, just held each other’s hands. There was no need to say a word.
I remembered this, the comfortable silence, the quiet companionship. Despite most people’s beliefs to the contrary, Nicholas had a quiet, reflective side. He loved to read and would lose himself for hours with his nose in a book, even a textbook, inhaling whatever was inside. He liked to share what he learned. He’d taught me a lot that way over the years, just by reading things to me, often while I was trying to do something
A Red-Tainted Silence
59
I waited for its ring as I sat on the edge of the bed. “Come on, come on,” I whispered, casting a glance at Nicholas. He’d clenched his hands to his chest as if he were praying.
Perhaps he was.
“Hello?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s Brandon. Where’s Barkley.”
“Hey, bro, what’s up? Barkley’s right here. Why?” And I heard the anxious canine snuffling. “Get down, Barkley, shit dog. Sorry, Brandon, he jumped on me when he heard his name.”
I reached out, stroked Nick’s face. He’d been holding his breath as I talked, staring through the bedrail. He’d had a hell of a cruel shock, and fury pumped through me, but I fought to calm my voice. “Nicholas, he’s still with my brother. He’s fine. That wasn’t him.” Nicholas turned to me, disbelief on his face. He reached for my hand and I held on to him, tight. “Are you sure?” he said.
I turned back to the phone. “Can Nicholas talk to him?” My brother didn’t laugh at the odd request. “Brandon, what’s going on?” I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight, and took a deep breath as my chest finally loosened. “Someone sent a package to Nicholas, made it look like ... like Barkley.”
“Oh, shit. Someone sent him a dead dog?”
“I think so. I haven’t seen it.”
“Shit, yeah, put Nicholas on. Come here, Barkley -- Hey, easy dog!” I handed the phone to Nicholas. He took it from me, his gaze holding mine as he hesitated. I nodded in encouragement, and he put the phone to his ear.
“Barkley? You there, bud?” he said, his voice soft, unsure. Eyes shut, he clenched my hand once, then released it to wipe away his tears. He smiled at me and nodded, relief flooding his face. “Okay. Good. That would be ...” He sighed. “... wonderful.” I brushed away his tears myself, then bent down and kissed him briefly on the lips before pulling back. I looked up at the detective -- sympathy and a hard edge of anger similar to what I was feeling ghosted his face. Nicholas ended the call and handed the detective his telephone. “Thank you, detective.”
“Get some rest, Mr. Kilmain. I want to talk to Mr. Ashwood for a few minutes.”
“Brandon, your brother’s going to bring Barkley to me. They’re leaving tomorrow.” I nodded. We’d already planned on that. We’d been going to surprise Nicholas, but this was probably best. Barkley would go nuts when he saw Nicholas again after so long, and it would be good for him to have his dog around until we could get out of here. He loved that dog. That dog was his family, like his child.
And whoever had done this to him, sent that package, knew it.
60 Carolyn Gray
“Good. By the time they get here, we’ll be out of this place, I promise,” I said, stroking his jaw line with one finger.
He smiled tiredly and leaned into my touch. Then he took a deep breath; a little color had returned to his face. “Hey, what time is the press conference?” The detective grimaced. “We’ll cancel it.”
Nick’s eyes widened and his gaze flicked to me. “No, we can’t do that. I’m fine now.” I hesitated, but the detective said, “We could postpone it for a couple of hours. Give you time to recover a bit.”
I glanced at my watch. “Three now. Six?”
The detective nodded and left the room for a moment. When he was gone, Nicholas and I said nothing to each other, just held each other’s hands. There was no need to say a word.
I remembered this, the comfortable silence, the quiet companionship. Despite most people’s beliefs to the contrary, Nicholas had a quiet, reflective side. He loved to read and would lose himself for hours with his nose in a book, even a textbook, inhaling whatever was inside. He liked to share what he learned. He’d taught me a lot that way over the years, just by reading things to me, often while I was trying to do something
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