Daylight clung to its last breath when Sheriff Scarpelli returned to the Travis Ranch. He wanted to check out something Randy had said before driving down to Ned Beasley’s place. Most of the deputies who had been scouring the place for clues had left for the day, but one man stood guard over the house while Deputy Adam Holloway guarded the crime scene in the barn. Nick headed first for the bunkhouse.
“I dunno,” said Vern Wooten, studying the sketch that Patty Murano had produced. “That could be the man I saw talking with Carl at the Conestoga, but I’m not really sure. Like I said, it was pretty dark.” After Nick had left the bunkhouse, he heard Wooten calling after him.
“Uh, ‘scuse me, Sheriff. I didn’t want to say anything in front of the other boys, but did you say that this man in the picture was from Harriman?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, I don’t know if it means nothin’, but I heard the kid…uh, Randy…mention that name a couple of times. Ain’t nothing down there. I don’t know why he’d ever wanna go there…unless maybe it was to buy drugs or somethin’.” Nick thanked Wooten and headed for the barn.
“Sorry, Sheriff,” said Deputy Holloway as his boss approached, “but we just haven’t found anything out of the ordinary.”
“Come stand over here,” Nick directed Holloway to the spot where Carl Pipkins’ body was found. Then, Nick climbed up the ladder to the hayloft in a spot overlooking the deputy’s position. The young deputy eyed his temporary boss skeptically. Nick slowly circled the spot as if looking for some kind of clue.
Holloway dared not ask, “What the hell are you doing?” when Nick lay down in the hay, approximating the position that Randy might have taken when he crashed there the night before. From that angle, Nick spotted a tiny sliver of light reflecting off something at the edge of the loft.
“Toss me your knife,” Nick called to Holloway below, and with it, he pried a small object loose from the beam.
“Whadja find?” asked the deputy.
“My guess is that it’s the hasp from Randy Dawkins’ beaded bracelet,” replied Nick. “Brace yourself,” he cautioned Holloway before tumbling off the edge of the loft toward him.
The deputy lit up like he had just been struck with an epiphany. “Oh, I get it: the kid waited up there in the loft for the victim, and when he arrived, he jumped him with the knife, catching the hasp of his bracelet on that beam and scattering the beads across the barn floor.”
“Maybe,” replied the sheriff. “Maybe.”
*******
Harriman is a hamlet of about 100 people tucked away in the southwest corner of the county. The town was named for the railroad and banking tycoon Edward H. Harriman, whose Union Pacific Railroad ran through the area on its way from Denver to Cheyenne and whose fortune was used by his widow to foster the incipient eugenics movement in the United States in the early 20th century.
Darkness hung like a shroud over Ned Beasley’s place on the outskirts of the town when Sheriff Scarpelli arrived. Not knowing quite what to expect, he decided to leave his car up the road and approach the house on foot. A faint strip of light seeped under the garage door while two male voices echoed off the walls behind it.
Reflections of Abuja flashed across Nick Scarpelli’s mind as the blinding light exploded before him and catapulted him backward. It was the last thing he remembered before the lights went out.
*******
On Saturday morning, Jeremy called the Leveque house to speak with Amy, but Mrs. Leveque informed him that she had gone out to take care of some arrangements. “Have you been to Audubon Park yet? It’s a marvelous place, and it’s such a lovely day for it.” He asked to speak to Brandon, thinking he might like to tour the park with him. “Oh, I’m sorry, he had to go back to Texas.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Oh, no. Just something he had to take care of at the farm. I’m sure you know how that is. He’ll be back in time for the wedding, though.”
So, Jeremy spent the day at Audubon Park—alone.
*******
When Jeremy got back to the apartment, he heard noises coming from the bedroom. “Ford?” He was eager to see him again. They really did need to sit down and talk. But it wasn’t Ford.
“Kenny, what are you doing here, and who’s this?”
“Oh, hey, Jeremy. This is my partner Kyle.”
“I thought Ford was your partner.”
“Other kind of partner,” said Kenny, with a wink.
Then it hit him: Kyle was the fireman he had seen banging Kenny on the pool table at the Talon on Thursday night. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
Kyle was a mountain of a man, the Paul Bunyan type, built like a brick shithouse. A neatly trimmed beard and mustache framed his carved face, just made for Mt. Rushmore. A profusion of fur transgressed the neckline of the skin-tight T-shirt that gripped his massive chest. More dark hair poked out from under his New Orleans Saints cap. His powerful handshake emulated a motorized vice, carefully calculated to apply just the right amount of pressure. His physical presence contrasted ironically with his radiant, almost child-like smile. Jeremy understood immediately why Kenny had fallen under Kyle’s magical spell. Hell, who wouldn’t?
“I said, Brad asked us to pick up a few of his things,” Kenny repeated, breaking Jeremy’s fixation on Kyle, the gentle giant.
“Oh...uh...why didn’t he come get them himself?
“I think you know the answer to that question, Jeremy.”
“No, I don’t, Kenny. In fact, I don’t know much of anything anymore,” Jeremy vented.
Kenny approached Jeremy and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Look, Jeremy, this is really none of my business, but I think Brad likes you—I mean, really likes you—but you’re about to marry his fuckin’ sister, for chrissakes!”
“But I just wanna see him, talk to him, and—”
“And what, Jeremy? What the hell do you expect him to do?”
“I dunno, I just.... I don’t know, dammit!” Jeremy threw himself face down across the bed and choked back his emotions. Kenny and Kyle glanced at each other and then sat on either side of him. Their warm, comforting hands on his arms and back electrified his entire body, but especially the nerve center located in his groin.
Jeremy rolled over to face the two hunks. “Look, guys. I’m not gay.” Yeah, right! You’ve just got a snake crawling around in your jeans. “I don’t know what came over me with Ford and Brandon, but I—”
“What? Brandon too?”
“Oh, my God!” Jeremy suddenly realized his slip. “Please don’t tell Ford—or Amy!—it was just an accident. I never meant—”
“Look, Jeremy,” said Kenny, petting the cowboy’s heaving chest, “what you do is your business. Don’t ask, don’t tell. Ya know what I mean? But I think you need to decide what you really want. Your words say one thing, but this....” He squeezed the thick hose swelling between Jeremy’s legs. “This tells a whole ‘nutha story, buddy.”
Jeremy lay silent, caught in the dilemma. He stared at Kenny and then at Kyle, who, at that point, was now rubbing his hand along the inside of Jeremy’s thigh and against his scrotum. Kenny leaned ever so slowly toward Jeremy and, seeing the desire in his eyes, kissed him. Jeremy transformed from a passive subject to an aggressive participant. When Kenny finally pulled back, Kyle moved in, but halfway into his cautious descent, Jeremy threw his hands around Kyle’s thick neck and yanked him tight, blasting his way into the fireman’s eager mouth. Kenny lustfully watched the cowboy swallow his lover’s tongue and then joined them in a kiss-and-lick slobberfest.
Kyle reached up under Jeremy’s shirt to massage his rock-hard chest and ripped abs while Kenny slipped his hand beneath Jeremy’s jeans to play with his rambunctious reptile. Jeremy reciprocated, pawing at the two men’s hefty baskets. Kyle pulled off Jeremy’s shirt and went to work on his nipples, alternately sucking and pinching them. As Jeremy moaned in delirium, Kenny hastily removed the rest of his clothes. Kyle and Kenny worked on their subject from both sides. Each sucked a nip while Kenny rubbed Jeremy’s balls and Kyle pumped his shaft. The stimulation was almost more than Jeremy could bear.
But that was nothing compared to what Jeremy was about to experience. When Kenny licked his balls and the tender zone below them and Kyle swallowed his tingling cock, Jeremy nearly bolted off the bed. His screams rivaled the noises of the Southern Decadence party-goers on the streets below. On any other weekend, the neighbors might have called the cops. How could they know that there was already one there?
Knowing where Ford kept his lubricant, Kenny reached into the nightstand and grabbed the small bottle. He applied a generous portion to Jeremy's cock and then to his own asshole. Then, just as Brandon had done before, he straddled Jeremy and lowered himself onto his stiff pole. Jeremy pumped like a piston.
“Hold on,” urged Kyle. “Don't shoot yet.” Then, much to Jeremy's amazement, Kyle positioned himself behind Kenny, lubed his dick, and slowly pressed it up Kenny's man pussy alongside Jeremy's massive rod. Not only could Jeremy not believe that Kenny's asshole could take both enormous dicks, but he was captivated by the feel of Kyle's swollen cock rubbing so tightly against his own.
“I can't hold it!” yelled Jeremy. “I'm gonna cum!” And cum he did, blasting almost a dozen volleys up Kenny's love canal. Then, Jeremy felt the pulsating rhythm of Kyle's cock as the fireman pumped load after load of his hot jizz into the same tunnel that had just received his own. And, just as he had done at the bar, Kenny squirted streams of creamy seed without even touching his cock--only this time, it stretched from the top of Jeremy's head to his lush pubic region. Kenny flopped over on top of Jeremy, still squeezing his cock in his tight ass. Kyle started to withdraw, but Jeremy grunted and pulled him back. He wasn't ready to lose contact with him yet. Hell, he didn't ever want to lose that feeling.
When the three dicks finally went limp, Kenny rolled over beside Jeremy, and Kyle plopped down on the other side, but first, he retrieved the bottle of lube he had tossed onto the bed and greased his resurrecting tool one more time. Then, breathing heavily and intimately into Jeremy's face, he asked, “So, Jeremy, has that sweet ass of yours ever been fucked by a man before?”
