“Jamie, the guy’s a drunk on his way to the pen for God knows how long. He’s bound to be lying to save his own ass.”
“Why now, though? He’s already taken the deal. He’s just waiting for the judge to impose sentence. What could he possibly have to gain by making up this story?”
Dillon waited until the doors closed and then pressed the button for the sixth floor. He did his best to reign in his temper, but he was mad as hell at Sledge for stringing Jamie along. Still, Dillon managed to sound halfway civil when he said, “Who knows why people lie? Maybe he’s one of those sick fucks who enjoys playing games with people’s heads. Or maybe he feels so guilty about offing Ben that he’s made up this thing about Ben already being dead just to make himself feel better. Who knows? I’ll tell you one thing, though. Brandon is gonna be pissed when he finds out you went to see the guy.”
The look on Jamie’s face made Dillon feel guilty, but he couldn’t help it. Jamie needed to understand that Sledge was lying. Dillon wanted this to end, for Jamie’s sake as well as his own.
The elevator doors opened, allowing them passage to the sixth floor of Chicago General. Just before they got off, Dillon raked his fingers across Jamie’s cheek. “You mad at me?”
Jamie moved slightly into Dillon’s hand. “No, I’m not mad at you. I know you’re only saying what you’re saying because you wanna help. Doesn’t mean I agree with you, but I know why you’re saying it.”
That was something, anyway. They walked off the elevator and searched for room six-eighteen, the number the volunteer at the visitor’s desk had given them. They found it without trouble and were just about to go inside when someone said, “Hang on for a second, boys.”
Dillon recognized Ash’s father from the handful of times he’d visited Ash. He’d always liked Mr. Barnes. The guy was friendly, if a little bit immature for a man his age. He was always jetting off, leaving Ash in the hands of housekeepers and nannies. It was just rotten luck that no one was on staff the night Ash tried to do himself in. Dillon’s parents might not be the best in the world, but at least they were always around. Attendance had to count for something.
Ashton Barnes the Second looked nothing like his son. Ash was tall and dark-headed, where Mr. Barnes was medium height and blond. Mr. Barnes was wearing a white silk shirt and black tailored slacks, whereas Ash was jeans and t-shirts all the way. The only similarity at all was the eyes, and, even there, Ash’s eyes were a darker shade of brown than his father’s.
Dillon introduced Mr. Barnes to Jamie. After shaking hands with them both, Barnes said, “Listen, boys, there’s a private waiting area down the hall. Do you think we could go down there and talk?”
Dillon wanted to say no. He’d had enough of waiting rooms and private chats. He took one look at Mr. Barnes’s pleading face and heard himself saying yes just as Jamie said the same thing.
Once they were seated in the waiting room, Mr. Barnes said, “I don’t know how to thank the two of you enough for what you did.” He looked down at his hands where they lay trembling in his lap. “I know I wouldn’t win any father of the year awards, but I do love my son. I’d be lost if anything ever happened to him. When I think about what could have--” He broke off, his face strained with the effort of holding back his tears. Once composed, Barnes said, “I just thank God you were there.”
Jamie shook his head. “Mr. Barnes, you don’t understand. This whole thing was my fault to begin with.”
Dillon was about to protest when Barnes beat him to it. “You can just put that nonsense out of your head, James. I saw the letter, and the pictures. When he woke up, Ash told me everything, including the fact that Ben Lewis was the one who asked you to bring Ash that vile note in the first place. My son also tells me that you had no idea what was in the envelope when you took it to him.”
“That’s true. If I’d known, I never would have taken it over there.”
“I believe that, James, but in a way, I’m glad you did. I wish I’d been there when it happened, so that maybe all of this could have been prevented, but at least now Ash knows the truth about Ben. Maybe this will help him get on with his life and find a good man or woman to love. Someone capable of loving him back.”
Dillon was shocked. “You don’t mind that Ash is bisexual?”
“No, I don’t.” Mr. Barnes fiddled with his sleeve cuffs. “I can’t say that I’m happy, not because he’s bisexual, but because I know that bisexual people face prejudice from both the gay and straight communities alike. It isn’t like he has a choice, though, and I intend to stand by him, no matter what.”
Dillon never thought he’d have reason to envy Ash, but at that moment, he did. Why couldn’t his parents see it the way Mr. Barnes did? He shook himself out of it, just in time to hear Jamie say, “Mr. Barnes, about the money . . .”
“You mean the blackmail money?” Jamie nodded, and Barnes sighed. “I’m so sorry Ash had to find out about that. That’s the only reason I paid Lewis off, you know. I wasn’t worried about him outing Ash like he threatened. That I could handle. I knew, though, that Ash would be crushed when he found out Lewis was just using him. I wanted to protect Ash. I hoped if I paid Lewis off, Ash would never find out.”
Jamie nodded again. “I understand that, Sir, but see, the thing is, Ben left the money to me when he died.”
It was Mr. Barnes turn to look shocked. “You’re kidding.”
“No, Sir. Believe me, I wish I was.” Jamie rubbed his right hand across his face. “Mr. Barnes, that money belongs to you. I want you to have it back.”
“I don’t know what to say. That’s very generous of you, James, but you don’t have to do that. I owe you for saving my son’s life.”
“No, you don’t. To be honest, I wouldn’t feel right about keeping it now, no matter what. Knowing what Ben did, and where that money came from, changes everything.”
Mr. Barnes looked to Dillon. “Is he always this loyal and trustworthy?”
Dillon rubbed his leg against Jamie’s and grinned. “Always.”
Jamie steered the conversation back on topic. “The money is in a safe deposit box. If you’d like to meet me at the bank tomorrow after school, I can give it to you then. I’m not sure how much of it Ben spent, but I do know there’s about forty-two-thousand dollars left.”
“Forty-two-thousand? I’m sorry, James, but you must have miscounted.”
“Like I said, Sir, Ben may have spent some of it--”
Mr. Barnes shook his head. “You misunderstand me, son. I wasn’t trying to say that any money was missing. In fact, just the opposite. I paid Ben one lump sum of twenty-thousand--even. That means there’s twenty-two thousand extra in that box.”
#
