Foxe Hunt (11 page)

No! No, he refused to believe his friend was a killer. Absolutely not. And why would he? Jeff loved Evan.

He stood on the porch and stared at the front door. But Jeff was working two jobs and having to deal with Evan’s depression and who knew what else. Maybe he was just tired of it. He had been a grunt. He certainly knew how to use a gun.

His chest panged with painful heat. “Oh God. It can’t be possible, could it?” He shook his head.
Stop thinking, Skyler. Just
get the meds
. He fit the key in the lock and opened the door.

Half expecting to see that splatter on the wall, his tense muscles relaxed when he saw a perfectly normal living room in the dark. He timidly switched on a lamp and breathed deep. No splatter on the wall. No empty wheelchair. No bridge table with gun cleaning supplies. Just a normal living room that smelled of normal air freshener. Those crime scene clean up guys were miracle workers.

He headed down the dark, narrow hall and stuck his head in each room. Bedroom. Pretty plain. Pictures on the walls, a king size bed, a desk. Not much else. Another bedroom. Big American flag on the wall, another desk, some chairs. Bathroom.
Finally
.

Skyler turned on the light and headed for the medicine cabinet. Lots of pill bottles. Percocet, antibiotics. He read labels and finally found the Ziac. He pocketed it, closed the cabinet, and switched off the lights. He headed down the darkened hall and almost made it to the living room when he heard a rustling.

He stopped, ears pricked. Another rustle. Definitely coming from the living room. He hadn’t locked the front door behind him and someone was in the house!

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He tiptoed backward until he reached the bathroom and crept inside, closing himself in the room and locking the door.

He stood in the dark, breathing in quickened rasps against the bathroom door, afraid to move.

Think, Skyler. Cell phone!
He thrust his hand in his pocket and fumbled getting it out. It slipped through his fingers and clattered loudly on the tile floor. “Shit!” he hissed and groped around.

“Dammit!” Now on all fours he scrambled around, fingers searching. Where the hell was it? He was tempted to turn on a light but he didn’t want the intruder knowing where he was.
Of
course with all the noise and the swearing he’d have to be deaf and stupid
not to know
.

Stretching around the toilet with his cheek resting against the cold porcelain, Skyler’s fingers touched something plastic and square-shaped.
Got it!

He grabbed it, sat on the floor, and opened the phone. The little tune began to play, sounding much too loud in the little space. He pressed it tight to his chest to muffle it.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door and Skyler made a very unmanly shriek.

“Hey. You in there,” said a man’s voice. “How’d you get in here?”

“I could say the same for you. I’m calling 911.”

“Don’t do that. I’m a friend of Jeff and Evan’s.”

Finger poised over the nine, Skyler paused. “Wh-who are you?”

“I’m from the VA Center. I was an adviser.”

Skyler got to his feet, and still holding the phone, he took hold of the doorknob. “What’s your name?” he called through the door.

“James Fischer. Wouldn’t you rather come out and talk instead of standing there in the dark?”

“You snuck in after me.”

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“Sorry. This whole thing is pretty upsetting.”

Skyler waited for his heart to slow a bit and he carefully unlocked the door and opened it a crack. A man in a plain T-shirt and black jeans was standing in the darkened hall. He looked like the kind of guy you’d see on an army recruiting poster, square jawed and rather handsome. Skyler clicked his phone off and came out into the hall. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry. You kind of scared the shit out of me, too.” He reached for a pocket and Skyler jumped back. “Easy. I’m just getting my wallet.” He slipped his wallet from his pocket, opened it, and pulled out a business card. He handed it to Skyler. Skyler used the light from his cell phone to read it. “And who might you be?” said Fischer.

“I’m a friend, too. My name is Skyler Foxe. I went to college with them.” Skyler rummaged for his wallet and took out his business card with the school address and phone.

“No kidding.” Fischer blinked and looked down at the card.

He stuffed it in one of the pockets in his pants. “Well, this is all a helluva thing.” He relaxed against the wall and ticked his head.

“Happens more often than you think, though. Guys leave the service and come home with PTSD and no one knows it or they look the other way.”

“Evan had more than post traumatic stress disorder. He lost a leg. And anyway it wasn’t suicide.”

Those eyes stared at Skyler steadily. “What do you mean? I read about it in the paper. The police say it was a suicide.”

“It’s not. Someone killed him.”

“Wow,” said Fischer. He spun in a tight circle in the narrow hall. “No shit. Fuck.”

“Yeah. So what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Jeff, to give my condolences, but then I saw you coming in here and I didn’t know what you were up to.”

“Oh. I’m picking up meds for Jeff. He’s—” He didn’t want to say arrested. That was none of this guy’s business, so he said,
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“Out of town.”

“I can understand that.” He stood for a moment, staring at the carpet, before he turned abruptly and headed for the living room.

“So, um, I’ll tell Jeff you stopped by,” said Skyler, trailing after him.

“Oh that’s all right,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll shoot him an email.”

“I’m sure he’d want to talk to you.”

He turned to Skyler and looked him evenly in the eye. “I said that was all right. He’ll hear from me.”

He strode quickly toward the door and pulled it open. Skyler stood there slightly stunned but followed after. He watched the man head down the walkway and pivot right at the sidewalk. But he didn’t see a car. The man kept walking until he turned the corner.

Freaked out, Skyler quickly closed and locked the door and escaped into the safety of his own car.

Mr. Skinhead was, thankfully, absent from the police station lobby when Skyler dropped off the meds. Sidney called him later that night, saying he could bail out Jeff first thing in the morning after his arraignment. “You’re making a mistake, Sidney,” he insisted, though he wasn’t sure how he felt. He didn’t want his friend to be guilty, couldn’t quite believe it.

“I’ll talk to you later, Skyler.”

“Sidney—” A click. “Bitch hung up. Dammit.”

He was certainly going to tell her a thing or two about her phone manners.

After a bad night where his sleep was disturbed by harrying dreams, Skyler first called in to let them know at school that he would be late. It was likely he would miss the first two classes of the day. He certainly didn’t tell the secretaries why he would be late. Sidney had told him that he’d probably have to go to the courthouse in San Bernardino and when he got down there, it was another long wait with bad coffee until Jeff ’s case came up and he could finally post bail, depleting his savings.

Jeff looked dazed when Skyler took hold of him. He was clutching a little plastic bag with his wallet, his meds, keys, and phone. They got to the car and Jeff looked over at Skyler with a hollow look in his eyes. “Why, Skyler? Wasn’t it enough that Evan is dead? Do I have to continue through this nightmare and go to prison for it?”

He was dry-eyed. Skyler supposed there weren’t any more tears left in him. They were silent on the drive back. But when they pulled into Jeff ’s driveway and parked, Skyler handed Jeff his house key. “I’m sorry about all this, Jeff. It
will
get cleared up.”

“You believe me, right Skyler? That I didn’t,
couldn’t
do such a thing?”

He took his friend’s hand. “Of course. This is just a crazy
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mistake. They’ll get the guy and then you can finally get some closure.”

“Closure.” He sat back in the seat, obviously not anxious to go into the house. “That’s what people always say, isn’t it. But it seems that Evan and I have been following that elusive dream for a while. All we wanted was an Army career, to serve. And then all we wanted was Evan to recover and get closure about his leg.

And then we were looking for closure for my appeals. When does it end, Skyler?”

“I don’t have an answer to that.”

Jeff looked down at Skyler’s hand in his own and sighed. “I miss him, Sky. I miss his advice and his laughter. But I’ve been missing that for a while. I feel so guilty because I wished that sometimes it would just end. But not like this.” He shook his head.

“You’ve been a good friend. The best. Thanks for everything.”

“No problem. I’m hoping you can clear your name soon.

Your VA rep came by the other day.”

“VA rep?”

“Yeah, James Fischer. He stopped by—”

“That asshole? What the hell was he doing here?”

The vehemence stopped him cold. “When I was here getting your meds last night he stopped by. I thought—”

“He was the bastard that kept giving us shit about our ‘lifestyle.’ He wasn’t helping me at all. He kept dropping over and harassing Evan about something. If I ever see that bastard here again I’ll—”

“Jeff, calm down. That’s just the kind of thing you don’t want to be doing or saying.”

Jeff deflated. “God, you’re right. I’m already in enough trouble.” He dug into the plastic bag and fished out his wallet.

“I have a lawyer’s card in here. I’ll have to give him a call and get this mess cleared up.”

But Skyler was staring at his friend. “Do you know what Fischer was harassing Evan about?”

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“What? I don’t know. Some kind of deal. He wanted Evan to do something. He’d always drop over when I was out and Evan just said it was some stupid thing. He’d never elaborate. Why?

What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. Just thinking.”

Jeff gave him a quizzical look before Skyler waved the thought away. “Look, I have to get to class.”

“Sure. Sorry. Thanks again, Skyler. I owe you so much.”

“It will be fine. Want me to walk you in?”

“No. You better get to work. See you. And thanks.”

Jeff got out of the car and Skyler watched him go up the stairs and unlock his door. He paused and waved from the doorway.

“Call me!” Skyler shouted and Jeff nodded before trudging inside and closing the door.

§ § §

Skyler made it to the high school before lunch but too late to catch his second period class. When he arrived to the main building to check in, a pert secretary named Pauline Hingle told him to go in to see the principal.

Skyler knocked lightly on his door and went in. He’d never had to deal so much with the principal before, and never when he was a student at James Polk High. Mr. Sherman, a man nearing fifty with mousy brown hair, sat behind his desk typing something on his keyboard. He looked up briefly and said, “Have a seat, Mr.

Foxe.”

Skyler wondered what this was about. Was it because he was gone so much lately? Yes, he’d only just started teaching in September and he’d already taken days off and been late to work. Though some of that was to deal with Mr. Sherman’s son’s murder.

Mr. Sherman finished up and finally turned to Skyler. “I understand you just got into work.”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Mr. Sherman. It was unavoidable. I was
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helping a friend in a very bad situation.”

The principal gave a wary smile. “Yes, you seem to do that a lot.”

“Well, my friend’s partner was murdered.”

Sherman jerked in his seat and Skyler felt like slapping himself for insensitivity. “I’m sorry. That was rather abrupt of me.”

“No, that’s all right.”

“H-how are
you
doing?”

Sherman pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down at his desk. “It’s different at home. My wife…is not adjusting well.

She’s seeing a therapist.”

“But not you?”

“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Foxe, but…”

“But stay out of it. Sorry. I guess I just can’t help getting in it.”

“Like with your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“How is he handling it?”

Skyler sighed and flopped back in his chair. “It’s pretty messed up. He’s the one being accused of his murder. I just bailed him out this morning.”

“Oh! Well, are you sure that’s the best thing?”

“He’s not guilty!” And just as he declared that, he was certain.

“It’s all a horrible mistake. It’s a nightmare.”

“One that never quite stops.”

They both sat in silence for a time until Sherman adjusted his seat and took a hold of his coffee cup, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Well, then. Just see that it doesn’t interfere with your class schedule again.”

“No, it won’t. I’m sorry about that.” He rose, went to the door, and turned back. “And I know I should butt out, but I don’t think it’s a bad idea you going to that therapist with your wife.

You should think about it.”

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Unexpectedly, Mr. Sherman smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Foxe.

You’re a good man.”

Skyler smiled back.

§ § §

Later, Skyler got an email from Jamie. The S.F.C. wanted a mid-week trip to Trixx and “why don’t you bring Hunk on a Stick along?”

Skyler sat back in his chair as his fifth period sophomores bent their heads to their schoolwork. This thing with Keith was so new. Did he really want to subject him to his friends? But then he started thinking about what Philip said about commitment.

Wasn’t it one of those grown-up things to introduce your friends to your…your…um. What was Keith, exactly? Date? Lover?

Boyfr—

“Nope.” He looked up, embarrassed that he had said that out loud. Only Amber raised her eyes to him from her book. She smiled coyly, tucked her red hair over her ear, and returned to reading with a slight blush to her cheeks.