The Way You Say My Name

Nailing Morgan to the wall took about two weeks. Two weeks in which Dillon lived each day like it was his last, enjoying the new found freedom of not having a murderer on the loose. No amateur investigations by his boyfriend. No homophobic parents on a self-righteous rampage. Nothing except school, work, and wild nights spent in his own home with the man of his dreams. It was enough to make a guy feel downright peaceful.

Not even the throng of reporters who hounded them in the days directly following the double arrests of Morgan and Henderson could shake Dillon’s sense of well-being. He took it all in stride, from the curious questions of the kids at school to the follow up questions by the Chicago District Attorney’s Office.

To that end, Dillon and Jamie were blessed with plenty of help when it came to handling their recent celebrity. Aunt Sadie posted no-trespassing signs around the perimeters of her property and met anyone who wouldn’t take no for an answer at the door with her now famous twelve gauge. Mr. Ardsley, the vice-principal who’d taken over as Dan Morgan’s replacement, fended off the news crews who came to the school hoping to catch a picture of Reed’s newest heroes. Dillon laughed the first time he heard himself refereed to as a hero. As far as he was concerned, Jamie was the only hero involved. Dillon was just along for the ride. Not that anyone would listen. He was even hounded at work by one tenacious writer hoping to do a spread on the boys for a true crime magazine. Jim Pembroke came to the rescue on that one, ousting the guy from the store in much the same way as a bouncer got rid of an unruly bar patron. With all the protection offered by friends and loved ones, as well as the knowledge that he and Jamie were finally through the roughest part of the entire ordeal, Dillon was starting to feel half-way normal, again. Whatever normal was, anyway.

The only smudge in Dillon’s happiness--besides the anxiety of waiting for the end of the Morgan investigation, that is--was the change in Megan. Since the rift between her and Heath, Megan had been silent and withdrawn. Though he saw her every day, it seemed to Dillon like the two of them hadn’t talked--really talked--since the night of Morgan’s attack. He’d last seen Megan at school that afternoon, her face pale and gaunt. When he’d asked her what was wrong, she shrugged it off as nothing more than cramming for exams and dealing with the prom committee. Dillon wasn’t buying it, but he couldn’t force her to talk about it, either. He’d even tried talking to Heath about Megan, only to be told to mind his own damn business.

Dillon was stocking shelves and thinking about his brother at seven o’clock when Jim Pembroke called him up to the front. “Sheriff Nash is on line one for you, Dillon. You can take it in my office where you’ll have some privacy.”

Dillon nodded his thanks and headed towards the office, Perching on the edge of Jim’s desk, he grabbed the phone and punched the first line. “Hello?”

“Hey, kid. Don’t mean to bother you when you’re hardly working, er . . . working hard, but I thought you’d like to know where things stand on the Morgan case. The D.A. here in Reed finished with it last night, and the Chicago D.A. signed off on it this morning, so I’m free to tell you where things stand. I tried to call your house to let Jamie know, too, but I didn’t get an answer.”

“Tonight is his aunt’s poker night. Jamie’s serving snacks to the blue haired set over at her house.”

“Scary thought. Anyway, I’d deliver this news in person, but I’m ass deep in work on this case as it is, so I figured I’d just give you a call and be done with it.”

Dillon seated himself more firmly on the desk. If this was really going to be it--the end of all the hell he and Jamie had been through, Dillon wanted to get the full affect. “Hit me with it.”

“We ran a ballistics check on the gun Morgan used to shoot at you, Jamie, and Mitch. It’s the same gun that killed Burke Carpenter. We also matched a fingerprint found on one of the slugs that missed Carpenter and imbedded in the wood railing of his porch to Morgan. In light of the evidence, Morgan had little choice but to cut a deal. He’s agreed to give a full confession as long as the D.A. takes the death penalty off the table. He also wants the D.A.’s promise not to put him in the general population once he goes to prison. Seems inmates, no matter what they’ve done themselves, take a dim view of child molesters. Since Morgan had sex with some of those boys well before they were legal, he feels like he might be a target. It would serve the bastard right if some three hundred pound tough guy made Morgan his wife.”

Dillon laughed. “Talk about justice. Too bad it can’t happen now, though. At least Morgan’s gonna be looked away. I guess that’ll have to do.”

“Yep. And it’s not like the world lost a whole lot when Morgan offed Carpenter. The way I see it, he preformed a public service.”

Dillon silently nodded, then forced himself to ask the one question he dreaded, the one he knew Jamie most needed an answer to. “What about Ben’s death? Did Morgan admit to killing him, too?”

Brandon sighed. “’Fraid not, kid. According to Morgan, Carpenter killed Ben. See, Dillon, to understand the way Morgan thinks, you have to know a little bit about him. He was born over in Chicago, the only child of a well-to-do investment banker and his high society wife. The two of them doted on Morgan, gave him whatever he wanted. They sent him to the best schools, made certain he drove only the coolest cars. From what I understand, Morgan’s old man even paid the kid’s way through college. Morgan got a degree in education, but I don’t think he ever planned on using it. No, living off Daddy’s money was the only goal Morgan ever set for himself. All that changed right after Morgan graduated from college.”

“What happened?”

“Seems Morgan wasn’t the only criminal in the family. His father was caught embezzling from some of his clients. The Federal Trade Commission did an investigation, and Morgan’s father was arrested and then sentenced to seven years. The F.T.C. also froze all his assets. Morgan and his mother were left with almost nothing.”

“Ouch.”

“It gets worse. Morgan’s mother was unable to cope with the shame of being married to a common criminal. She shot herself two weeks after the old man went to prison.”

Dillon was almost feeling sorry for Morgan, but Brandon’s next words wiped out all those feelings in an instant. “Morgan wasn’t exactly heartbroken over what happened. His mother had an insurance policy just for burial, one that didn’t include a suicide clause. Morgan cashed it in, but instead of burying his mother with it, he used the money to set himself up in the boy business.”

Dillon shivered. “I thought Burke Carpenter handled that end of the operation.”

“That came later. Apparently, Morgan was running adult hustlers, brining in customers and ‘screening’ them, as he called it. He used the money from his mother’s policy to pay for hotels, drugs, whatever the customers required. Seems he racked up quite a client list. Morgan met Carpenter at a party a few weeks later, a party thrown by one of those same clients. Morgan was looking for younger guys to work with, and Carpenter was looking for better contacts for his own budding boy business. The two of them hooked up, and the rest is history. They would probably still be working together if Morgan hadn’t started having sex with Carpenter’s boys. Carpenter was real strict about no in-house sex, according to Morgan. After Morgan brought that guy in who roughed up Mitch, things continued to go down hill. Morgan was making less and less money, so much so that he took the job as principal at Plunkett just to make ends meet.” Brandon snorted. “That’s what he called it. ‘Making ends meet.’ To most people that means paying all the bills and having enough left over to buy groceries. To Morgan it means having enough money to gas up his Ferrari.”

“And Plunkett is where he met back up with Ben?”

“Yep. He pretended not to know Ben, but Morgan says the two of them got together on the sly every so often and had sex. Sex which Morgan paid for. Anyway, a few months ago, Carpenter told Morgan he was cutting him off completely. Said he had enough contacts so that he didn’t need Morgan anymore. Morgan was bitching to Ben about it, and that’s when Ben came up with the plan to blackmail the guy.”

“And Ben had already succeeded in blackmailing Ash, so what was one more victim?” Dillon did his best not to gag.

“That’s about the size of it. Morgan knew about Carpenter’s affinity for young girls, and he’s the one who snuck back into the house and planted the cameras. Ben’s the one who approached Carpenter with the pictures and made the demands, but they split the money fifty-fifty. Listening to Morgan talk, you’d think he and Ben actually cared about each other, like they were friends or something.”

“So all that stuff Morgan said at Ben’s funeral was just a cover?”

“Yep. Morgan found out about Ben’s death from one of my deputies, a guy by the name of Phelps.” Brandon made a rude noise. “You better believe his ass is beyond fired. Phelps will be lucky if I don’t charge him with everything from obstruction of justice to aiding and abetting. Anyway, Morgan hired the guy to make certain he was never the subject of any active investigations, just as he paid a couple of cops in Chicago to do the same thing. Guess he wanted someone to give him advance warning just in case he was ever busted for his dirty dealings. Amazing how paranoid some of these sleazebags can get. Needless to say, the minute Morgan heard Ben had been killed, he had no doubt that Carpenter had finished Ben off to stop the blackmail. Morgan also guessed that Carpenter knew of his own involvement. Morgan claims that he and Ben met out on Tully Road that night so they could divvy up Carpenter’s latest payoff. Morgan swears Ben was alive when he left. Thing about that is, there was no money found anywhere on or around Ben’s body. To Morgan’s way of thinking, Carpenter must have followed them to the meeting place, waited until Morgan left, and then came out of hiding and killed Ben, taking Ben’s half of the money in the process. That’s when Morgan ran scared, believing he would be next on Carpenter’s hit list. He tried to publicly distance himself from Ben by giving that speech at the memorial, but that wasn’t enough to convince himself he was safe. Finally, the guy snapped under the pressure. Morgan’s plan was to off Carpenter before Carpenter did him in. The plan would have worked, too, if Mitch hadn’t come to Reed and exposed Morgan as Carpenter’s partner. Morgan saw Mitch while Mitch was in town trying to locate you and Jamie. He thought if he killed the three of you, his secrets would die with you.”

Once again, Dillon’s blood chilled, thinking about how close he and Jamie had come to dying by Morgan’s hand. Instead of voicing his dark thoughts, though, Dillon shrugged them aside and said, “So, do you believe him? About Carpenter killing Ben, I mean?”

Brandon paused long enough to think about it. “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. I think it’s possible, but I also think it’s just as likely that Barry Sledge really did kill Ben that night, and that Morgan’s paranoia just got the better of him. We do know that Sledge hit Ben with his car, but the question is, did he hit him before or after Ben was already dead? It’s also possible that Morgan killed Ben before he pulled away that night and took Ben’s share of the money with him. We’ll probably never know for sure, but the D.A. feels like it’s enough to give reasonable doubt on the Sledge case. The assistant D.A. who took Sledge’s plea the first time is taking back the deal they made for vehicular homicide and changing the charges to reckless endangerment and gross negligence while operating a motor vehicle. The sentence will be altered, as well. Instead of prison, Sledge is going into a resident rehab program. It works almost the same way as jail, though. He can’t come out until a judge says he can. With Sledge’s record, I have a feeling he’ll be in treatment for a long time.”

Dillon wasn’t sure why, but he felt better knowing Sledge wasn’t being charged with murder. Sledge was a drunk, but Dillon was starting to believe that the guy wasn’t the one responsible for Ben’s death. At least Sledge was getting some help out of the deal. All that remained now was to see what would happen to Morgan. He asked Brandon as much.

“He’ll be sentenced in a few weeks, but I think it’s safe to say he’ll spend the rest of his life behind bars. That ought to be enough to satisfy even Jamie.”

Dillon laughed. “I think it will. I can’t wait to tell him. Now maybe we can put this behind us. Thanks for calling me, Brandon.”

“Anytime, kid. Before you go, though, I have something else I need to tell you.” Brandon hesitated, and Dillon could tell something was wrong. “What is it?”

Brandon cleared his throat. “I’m gonna be an uncle.”

“Yeah, I know. I was there when Alicia told you about the baby, remember?”

“I phrased that wrong. What I should have said is, you and I are gonna be uncles.”

It took Dillon a full minute to understand what Brandon was saying. Oh, God. “Megan’s pregnant?”

“Guessed it in one. I just found out about it last night. The poor kid’s been worrying herself sick, scared to death to tell anybody. Thank God she finally broke down and told Ashton Barnes. He convinced her to go to Mom and Dad with it. She actually thought they’d be mad at her. She should have known that we all love her no matter what.”

“Megan told Ash? Why wouldn’t she come to me and Jamie with it? We’ve been trying to talk to her for two weeks.”

“I know you have. Megan told me about how you’ve tried to help her when I talked to her this morning. But before you get your feelings hurt, think about it. It’s your brother who got her pregnant. She was afraid to drag you into this anymore than she already has, afraid it would cause problems between you and Heath.”

Dillon kicked himself for not thinking of that. That was so like Megan, always trying to protect him, the world, everybody but herself. And speaking of Heath . . . “What does my brother have to say about all this?”

Brandon’s voice crackled with anger. “Heath denies she’s even pregnant. Swears up and down that there’s no way she could be, and that if she is, the baby can’t possibly be his. He claims that Megan is only doing this because Heath broke up with her and she wants him back. Total dumbass.” Brandon swore. “Sorry, kid. I know he’s your brother, but the guy is being a complete dick.”

Dick didn’t even cover it. Dillon couldn’t ever remember a time when he’d been so angry with his brother. “I hope you went over to his apartment and kicked some sense into him.”

“I wanted to, believe me, but Megan wouldn’t let me. She freaked out on me, swore never to talk to me again if I said anything at all to Heath. That’s when my mother stepped in. She said that it was up to Heath and Megan to work things out, and for once I was gonna keep my big nose out of it, or else.”

“Damn. That’s harsh.”

“You’re telling me. Now all we can do is wait and see what happens. At least Megan has our family’s full support. Mom and Dad are already looking into colleges that provide student daycare and mother/baby housing.”

“How does Megan feel about the baby?”

Brandon’s voice softened. “She’s in love with it already. You know Megan. She has enough love to give to ten kids. She’s gonna make one hell of a mom, even if she is too damn young.”

There was no doubt in Dillon’s mind that was true, but the situation as a whole was still one hell of a mess. “Brandon, let me try talking to Heath. He might listen to me, or at least pretend to.”

“Good luck, kid. If Heath is half as stubborn as my sister you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

#

Brandon wasn’t kidding. After calling Jamie to let him know where he’d be, Dillon headed straight to Heath’s apartment. He found his brother sitting on the couch, well into a bottle of Wild Turkey. Damn. Heath rarely drank beer, much less bourbon. Apparently, he wasn’t as unaffected by this as he wanted them to believe.

Dillon took the half-empty bottle away from his brother and carried it into the kitchen. Heath said, “Hey, bring that back,” but he was in no real condition to stop Dillon from pouring it down the drain. That done, Dillon came back in and sank down next to his brother on the couch. The fumes from Heath’s binge nearly knocked him down, but Dillon refused to move. His brother needed him, and Dillon was going to sit by Heath’s side until the two of them talked it out.

Dillon jumped straight in. “I talked to Brandon Nash tonight. He told me about Megan.”

Heath closed his eyes. “So she decided to take her lies to the Nash collective, did she? Well, good for her. I guess the sheriff is going to come and kick my ass now, huh?”

Dillon fought down a fresh surge of anger. Getting mad and ramming his fist down Heath’s throat like he wanted to wasn’t going to help. “No, he’s not.” When Heath opened his eyes in obvious disbelief, Dillon said, “Oh, Brandon wanted to jack your ass up, believe me. But Megan made him promise not to.”

Heath sneered. “Awww, how freaking nice of her, to protect me from her big, bad-ass brother.” He snorted. “She lies on me, tries to force me to marry her, and then acts all sweet and innocent in front of her family. What a bitch.”

So much for not loosing his temper. Dillon reached over and shoved his brother so hard Heath feel off the couch and hit the floor. “What in the hell did you do that for?”

Dillon towered over him. “Don’t you ever--and I mean ever--call Megan a bitch in my presence again. What’s the matter with you, Heath? You get her pregnant, then drop her like she’s trash, and you’re the one calling her names? God, what’s happened to you?”

Heath didn’t even bother to get up. “She’s not pregnant, Dillon. She can’t be. At least not by me. I used a rubber every damn time we were together.”

“Those things aren’t one-hundred percent protection, and you know it. Anything could have happened. There could have been a hole, it could have broken--”

“Damn it, there is no baby!” Heath came up into a sitting position on the floor. “Megan told me she loved me--another freakin’ lie--and I told her I wanted to cool things down. Now, two weeks later, she’s telling the whole damn world that I knocked her up? That’s mighty convenient, isn’t it? She’s just doing this to force me to come back to her. She’ll do anything to get her way, just like--”

No way was Dillon gonna let Heath end it there. “Just like who? Dammit, Heath, either you tell me what’s going on, or I swear I’ll kick your ass myself. You won’t have to worry about Brandon, not if I get to you first.”

Heath didn’t seem overly concerned about the threat, but he leaned his back against the base of the couch and started talking, anyway. “Did Mom and Dad ever tell you the reason I moved out of their house?”

The change in subject startled Dillon, but he decided just to go with it. “No, not really. I always just assumed that you left because you were eighteen and didn’t want to play by there lame-ass rules.”

“That was part of it, but there was more to it than that.” Heath ran his fingers over his face, scrapping his palm against the thick stubble on his chin. “Do you remember that girl I was dating at the time, Marcy Collier?”

“Vaguely, why?”

“Vague describes my whole relationship with her. We were fuck buddies, and that’s all we were. The two of us got together whenever we wanted to scratch a certain itch, but there were no ties between us. I thought she felt the same way, that she was cool with the whole casual thing, but evidently, I was wrong. One day she told me that she wanted us to be more than just an every now and then kinda thing. Then she told me she loved me.” Heath laughed, a bitter, joyless sound. “Like she knew anything about love. She was screwing at least three other guys besides me. When I told her I knew as much, she swore she’d give them all up, that she wanted to make a commitment to me and me alone. I told her I wasn’t interested, and that was the end of it. At least I thought it was, anyway.”