---

"Maybe I'd better do this alone."

Dillon paused, his key poised in the Lumina's ignition. "No way, Jamie. Ash more or less tried to ram his cock down your throat the last time. What's he gonna do for an encore, strip you down and rape you?"

"Yeah, well, he was drunk last time, too."

"Who's to say he won't be drinking this time?"

Dillon had a point, but Jamie wasn't about to tell him so. Besides, he had to make sure of one thing before giving in. "You're not gonna jump on the guy and start pounding him the minute we walk in are you?"

Dillon gave Jamie his most angelic smile and said, "Me? Never." When Jamie made the "Yeah, right" face, Dillon said, "I promise, Jamie, I'll be the soul of understanding and compassion."

He sounded so sincere, but Jamie wasn't buying a single word of it.

By the time they pulled up to Ash's house, it was pushing seven o'clock. Jamie said, "He may not even be home. It is Friday night."

"Then we track him down." Dillon parked at one end of the circular drive and shut off the engine. "I want you to give him that damn letter and be done with it, Jamie. There's no way you can move on and start putting Ben's death behind you when you're constantly getting dragged back in."

That was one thing they were in perfect agreement on. Jamie wanted to end this, to settle it once and for all. He had a bad feeling about what was in that letter to Ash. He'd know that Ben had some fuzzy areas when it came to right and wrong, but he chose to remember Ben as the loving, devoted friend he'd been, not the desperate kid who often did whatever struck his fancy to earn a quick buck. Jamie didn't want to know any more than necessary.

Ash's house smacked of old money, from the cobblestone paths leading to the house from all directions, to the thirty room mansion itself. Jamie looked up, certain Ash's father must be having some sort of party. Every one of the more than twenty windows at the front of the house was brightly lit, giving the red brick, colonial façade an eerie orange glow. Jamie stopped short of the massive, oak double front doors. "It looks like they're having a party, Dillon. Maybe we should go."

Dillon shook his head. "I don't think so. Remember what Ash said at Ben's memorial service? His father and his new wife have gone on a second honeymoon. It's only been two weeks. I doubt seriously if they'd be back yet."

"Maybe Ash is having a bunch of his football cronies over."

Dillon looked around. "Then where are all the cars? Or the loud music? Hell, with that crowd Ash hangs around with, someone would be shit-faced and standing in the front yard crushing beer cans between his naked ass cheeks."

Jamie could have gone years without having that visual image in his head. He gave in and rang the doorbell. He and Dillon waited, listening while the chimes echoed throughout the home. Jamie half expected one of those old English butlers to answer the door, but a red-eyed Ash came to the summons instead.

Ash took one look at Jamie and Dillon, turned white as death, and said, "What are you doing here?"

"We came to talk to you, Barnes. You gonna let us in, or what?"

"Look, Carver, if this is about what happened at that memorial thing--"

Jamie stepped in. "It's not, Ash. We know you were drinking that night or none of that stuff would have happened."

Jamie thought he saw Ash relax a little, but not much. "If you're not here so Carver can kick my ass, then what are you doing here?"

God, this was hard. Jamie cleared his throat. "I, um, have a letter for you."

Ash narrowed his eyes. "A letter? From who?" His eyes went wide. "You're not suing me for assault or anything are you? Look, I know I was out of line there at the church, but I never really touched you. If you think you're gonna make me pay just because I made a play for you, you can just forget it."

Dillon didn't have much patience to begin with, and Ash had just stretched it to its limit. "We're not here to sue you, dumbass. We're here to deliver a letter from Ben."

"Ben, who?"

Jamie knew what was coming. He tried to signal for Dillon to stop, but it was too late. Dillon said, "Ben Lewis, Barnes. You know, the guy you were screwing?"

Ash looked first at Dillon, then at Jamie. After giving them both his best impression of a deer caught in the headlights, he promptly threw up.

Jamie glared at Dillon. "Help me get him back into the house so we can clean him up. Thanks so much, Mr. Understanding and Compassion."

* * *

Dillon and Jamie sat in the family room at the back of the Barnes house, waiting while Ash finished showering. Dillon had cleaned up the mess in the entryway, while Jamie had gotten Ash calmed down enough to clean himself up. Now they were just waiting. Dillon cursed himself. He should have just kept his mouth shut, but that was damn hard where Jamie was concerned. Dillon couldn't stand the thought of Jamie getting hurt, but it was more than that. Ash's attitude, his total denial of the relationship with Ben--of even being gay--stung. It reminded Dillon far too much of the way he'd treated Jamie two years ago.

He looked around the Barnes house. He'd been here a couple of times before, for some of those raucous parties he mentioned to Jamie. One thing always struck Dillon. No matter how many people were here, be it ten or a hundred, the house always seemed empty. The furnishings were top of the line, and Ash's father had obviously spared no expense with the decorating, but the place had a museum like quality, as if no one actually lived there.

Ash came back in a few minutes later. His hair was still wet, and he was wearing fresh clothes. The thing that got to Dillon the most, though, was the lost look in Ash's eyes. He'd seen it once before, the night of Ben's memorial. He hadn't recognized it the first time, mainly because he hadn't known about Ben and Ash, but he now saw it for what it was. It was the same look Dillon had worn for the entire two years he'd been without Jamie. Dillon's heart immediately started to soften towards the guy. Ash had been in love with Ben.

Ash took the chair directly across from the sofa Jamie and Dillon shared. He was quite for several minutes before saying, "How much do you know?"

Dillon was gonna let Jamie handle it from here on in. He'd done enough damage himself. Jamie said, "Not much really. Ben told me that his boyfriend used to meet him at the old Tanner Mills, and that said boyfriend's family owned the place. We tracked you down through that."

"Why, though? What does it matter now? What, you wanna out me because of the way I've treated you? Go ahead. At this point, I don't even care."

"No one's gonna out you, Ash." Jamie pulled the thick envelope out of his coat pocket. "Ben left me the key to a safe deposit box in his will. There were two letters inside, one for me, and the other labeled, 'To be revealed.' In his letter to me, Ben's last request was that I find out who his boyfriend was and give this to him. I've done that." Jamie stretched out the hand that held the envelope.

Ash looked at it long and hard before reaching out to take it. Even then, he held it between two fingers, as if it was a poisonous snake about to strike. Ash looked to Jamie. "What's in here?"

Jamie shrugged. "That, I couldn't say. Ben asked me not to open it, so I didn't. My job was to find out who you were and to deliver it." He stood up, prompting Dillon to do the same. "I've kept my word. Now maybe Ben can rest in peace."

Jamie turned to leave, and Dillon followed. They'd almost made it to the door, when Ash said, "Wait." Then, a little quieter. "Please?"

Jamie turned. "What is it?"

Ash lowered his head. "Could you stay with me while I open it? I . . . I'm all alone here. My dad won't be home for another week, and--" He broke off, but not before Dillon heard the trembling in his voice.

Jamie trekked back across the room. "Is that why all the lights are on? Because you feel a little less lonely?"

Ash looked up. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"I used to turn all the lights on at Aunt Sadie's, right after my mom left." Jamie smiled. "Used to drive my aunt crazy, but I think she understood."

Ash was so miserable, Dillon could feel it, even from where he stood. "It's always been like this. My mom is busy with her new husband and their kids, and my dad . . . well, I know he loves me, but he's got his own thing goin' on. Know what I mean?"

Jamie nodded and reclaimed his seat on the couch. Dillon joined him, and then looked to Ash. "Where's Chad? I thought you two always spent the weekends hangin' out."

"He wanted to, but I didn't feel like it. I haven't felt much like partying since, well, you know."

"Since Ben died?"

The look Ash gave Jamie was heartbreaking, even to Dillon. "Yeah. Not since then."

Dillon couldn't stand it. "Look, Ash. You and I have sorta been friends most of our lives."

"So?"

Dillon leaned forward. "So, friends tell each other stuff. Talk to us, man. Tell us what happened."

Still holding the letter, Ash leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. "There's not a whole heck of a lot to tell. I've known I was probably gay for a while now, but except for the occasional blowjob at one of those rest stop glory holes out on the interstate, I haven't really done anything about it. When the urge got too bad, I'd go out there, get my rocks off, and be finished until the next time. That's where I met Ben. Well, not met him, exactly. I mean, I knew him from school, but the rest stop is the first place we ever hooked up."

When Ash paused, Dillon said, "Not to be an ass, but what about all those girls you're always, um . . ."

"Screwing? Cause that's all it ever was." Ash opened his eyes. "Sure, I've had lots of sex with a lot of girls, but I never used any of them. Every single one knew that I wasn't gonna make a commitment. And I wasn't using them as a cover. I like girls--even like the sex--just not as much as I do with guys."

Jamie nodded. "You're probably bisexual, then, with a preference for men."

Ash closed his eyes and leaned back again. "Probably, but none of that really matters, anymore. I don't want to be with anybody, male or female. All I wanted was Ben. Then he dumped me, and before I could make it right, he died."

Jamie's whole body went rigid. "Wait a minute. What do you mean 'Ben dumped you?'"

"Just what I said. We met that night, after the dance. I'd seen that kiss he gave you. I got so pissed, I ended up telling Ben I wanted him to make a choice: me or you." Ash opened his eyes again and glanced at Jamie. "I know that was the wrong thing to do, especially since I'd just gotten done feeling up Blair Dees on our way into the gym. But Ben was the one who wanted to keep things light. He suggested that I keep dating girls--keep sexing them up--so no one would get suspicious. Hell, I guess I was using girls as a cover, after all. Nothing like fucking a woman at your boyfriend's request." Ash laughed, but the sound held about as much joy as a public execution. "After I saw him lay that kiss on you, I realized just how much I had to lose if I lost Ben. I begged him to stay with me, to make some kind of commitment. I even told him I was ready to come out, to tell everyone about us, my father included. He freaked out when I told him. Said he didn't want that with me. He walked away from me, but not before telling me he never wanted to see me again."

Jamie looked more confused than Dillon had ever seen him. "Ash, are you sure about that, about what he said, I mean? Think real hard. Ben told me the exact opposite of what you're saying now."

Ash looked at Jamie like he was crazy, but there was no malice in his voice when he said, "Of course I'm sure. It's not everyday a man loses the only person he's ever really loved. Why do you think I spent the next twelve hours calling him every thirty minutes, begging him to meet me at the foreman's house so we could talk? He finally gave in somewhere around call number twenty-three. I guess he was on his way to meet me when he was hit by that car."

Jamie looked like he wanted to say something, but Ash must not have noticed. Dillon saw it, though. It took him a minute, but the pieces eventually clicked. If Ben was on his way to meet Ash, what was he doing out on Tully Road, in the opposite direction from Tanner Textile?

Ash picked up the envelope again, holding it with a firmer grip this time. "You really don't know what's in here?" When Jamie shook his head, Ash said, "Might as well find out," and tore into it.

Dillon watched as Ash pulled a folded piece of white paper and what looked like an envelope from one of those twenty-four-hour photo places out of the larger envelope. Dillon remembered Ben's words from the letter Jamie had read to him over the phone. I took something from him I had no right to take or something like that. He had a bad feeling about what could be in that photo package. Dillon was about to suggest that Ash go for the letter first, but it was a moot point. Ash reached for the paper first, anyway.

Ash didn't even make it to the first line before he started tearing up. He held the paper out in front of himself. "Would you read it? I don't think I can."

Dillon wasn't sure if Ash was talking to him or Jamie, but judging from the look on Jamie's face, he was in no better shape to read it than Ash. Swallowing hard, Dillon leaned over and took the letter from Ash's hand. Clearing his throat, Dillon began to read.

"Dear Ash, I've done a lot of really bad shit in my life, but I can honestly say I've never felt guilty about any of it. Not until now, that is. Most of the guys I screwed over had it coming. The way I see it, they got what they deserved. But not you. The only real crime you committed was getting mixed up with a hustler. Yeah, that's me. I was a hustler, Ash. A whore. I was pretty damn good at it, too, if I do say so myself. Where do you think I learned all those little tricks I used on you? Come on, admit it. That ass flexing thing I used to do drove you wild." Dillon stopped long enough to wince. Definitely too much information. He sighed and continued reading. "I can't take all the credit, though. I learned from the best, a guy named Burke Carpenter. Burke was my foster father/pimp. Hell of a guy, let me tell you. Actually, as far as pimps go, he wasn't so bad. He started me early, and by the time I was fifteen, I was pulling in the cash. Not that I ever saw any of it. Burke gave his boys just enough for clothes and food. At first it seemed like an okay deal, but the older I got, the more I got tired of sucking cock and bending over just to make some guy who's supposed to be taking care of me rich. That's why I finally ran away. I was picked up and sent to Nora's, and from there, you know the rest. Just thinking about how much money I lost to that guy makes me mad, so I'm gonna shut up about him. Before I do, though, there's one more thing I have to tell you about good ole' Burke."

"Burke might have been a sleaze, but he was damned smart for a piece of slime. Burke always said, 'Diversify your interests.' I had no idea what that meant when I was fifteen, but now I know that it's the same thing Nora means when she says, 'Never put all your eggs in one basket.' Anyway, Burke's idea of diversifying his interests was to tape his boys having sex with their clients. We aren't talking your average clients here, either. Some of the guys were city leaders, police officers, trust fund babies. Burke had a stable of wealthy regulars. Why do you think no one's ever been able to shut him down? He has too many satisfied customers in high places for that to ever happen. Like I said, Burke is smart. He never counted on just the income he made from whoring us out. He'd tape these guys having sex with us, and then use the tapes for leverage. Not only would he get the fee they paid him to 'do' us, but he'd have something he could use against them later on. Like I said, sometimes he'd flat-out ask for money, but most of the time it was favors he was after. I may have hated the guy, but he was a good teacher, and I'm a quick study. I decided to diversify my own interests. That's where you come in."

Dillon felt like he was gonna throw up. He knew what was coming. Apparently, Ash did, too. Dillon looked across the coffee table. Ash was a sickly shade of white, but it was his expression that chilled Dillon to the bone. Rather, his lack of expression. Not a single one of the thousand emotions Ash had to be feeling was written on his face. In a dry monotone, Ash said, "Keep reading. Finish it." Dillon looked to Jamie. The pain on his face was evident, but Jamie only nodded, giving Dillon the signal to do what Ash said. With little choice, Dillon picked up where he'd left off.

"J was always telling me that I was better than most people thought, but I knew that wasn't right. I know myself for what I am, well, was: a hustler who's always looking out for the bottom line. You deserve to know the whole truth, so I'm gonna tell you, as bad as it is."

"Our little meeting at the rest stop was no accident. Oh, the first time I saw you there, I had no idea you were gay, but I soon found out. I saw you and another guy sucking each other off in one of the bathroom stalls. Those glory holes do come in handy. I knew you were rich, so I staked you out. Took me about two months of ground work, but I finally engineered a run in with you. I built our relationship slowly, and the minute I had your trust, I knew we were ready for phase two: fucking. You helped by choosing the Mill for our meeting spot. Lots of places to hide a camera in that old foreman's house. I'm not as high-tech as Burke was, so I went for one of those time lapse thirty-five-millimeter cameras, the kind that can be set to take pictures every few minutes. I'd set the timer before you got there, get you all hot and bothered, and by the time we were both naked--slide show city."

"I took the pics to one of those one-hour-photo places and trotted them down to your dad's office. Told him unless he wanted to see his son's ass plastered all over the Net and beyond, he'd pay up. Since I didn't need any favors, I asked for cold, hard cash. Your dad forked it over without even putting up a fight. My plan worked better than I'd ever dreamed. The only problem was, I grew to like you too much."

"I'm what Nora always called a one-man-man. She claimed that no matter how much I screwed around, there would always be one special guy who held my heart. She was right about that. I wish that guy could have been you, but the truth is, James Walker had me wrapped around his finger from day one. Just because I couldn't love you, though, doesn't mean I didn't care. Okay, I didn't at first. To me you were just a red-hot fuck/meal ticket. But as I got to know you--as a person, not just as a wallet--I realized that what I was doing was seriously fucked up. When you started telling me you loved me and begging me not to break up with you, I lost it. That's why I broke things off. Don't get me wrong. I didn't feel bad enough to give back the money, but I couldn't keep doing what I was doing. Who knows? Maybe doing that one decent thing will get me into Heaven. I used to believe that if there was a God, he wouldn't waste his time on me, but meeting J changed all that. Only God could send someone like him to a guy like me. Anyway, in the inner envelope you'll find the only copies of the pictures I took. Well, besides the ones I gave to your dad, but I'm sure he destroyed those the first chance he got. Just so you know, your father didn't seem to be upset by the fact that you were gay, Ash. He was mad as hell that I was using you, but the gay thing didn't seem to enter into it. He may have a hard time showing it, but the guy really does love you. He said he'd do anything to protect his son. When you read this letter, try to remember that someone really does care about you. Even if I was never able to. I'd say I'm sorry, but you'd never believe it after all this--Ben."

Dillon refolded the letter, at a total loss about what to say next. Gee, Ash sorry your boyfriend took pictures of the two of you going at it like bunnies and then blackmailed your father. Somehow, that didn't seem to cover it. Dillon looked to Jamie, who seemed every bit as lost as he did. Ash was the only one of them who looked like he was still in control. He stood up and started towards the door, without ever even looking at the pictures.

Jamie stood, too. "Where are you going?"

"To take a whiz. Why, you wanna come hold it for me?"

Normally, Dillon would have laughed over such a smart-assed comment, but there was nothing funny about the flat, even tone Ash used when he said it. Dillon said, "You okay, man?"

Ash shrugged. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be? So I got fucked. So what? Won't be the last time."

Jamie reached out to him. "Ash, we'd understand if you weren't exactly okay with this. I mean--"

"Look, Walker, can this wait until I get back. Unless you want to come in there with me while I piss, it'll have to." He left before either one of them could say anything else.

Jamie collapsed back against the couch. Dillon held up his arm and Jamie scooted underneath until the two of them were pressed as tightly together as possible.

Dillon smoothed his fingers through Jamie's hair. "How you holding up?"

Jamie sighed and buried his face in Dillon's side. "I'm not crazy about the fact that my best friend was a blackmailer, or that he left me the money. God, who am I kidding? It makes me sick to my stomach." He turned his face back up to look at Dillon. "Want to know the worst part, though?"

"You know I do."

"The worst part is, it doesn't change anything. Even knowing what Ben did, I still care about him. I still see him the way he was with me. Does that make me a horrible person?"

"Nope. It makes you, you. Like I told you before, you're one of the most forgiving people I've ever met. You always see the good side of folks."

Jamie leaned back against Dillon's arm and closed his eyes. "I just hope Ash is able to move past all this. The way he looked just then scared the hell out of me." Jamie opened his eyes again and sat up. "Speaking of Ash, he's been gone a little too long to suit me. I'm gonna go check on him."

"Want me to go with you?"

"No, he'll just feel like we're ganging up on him. Where's the closest bathroom in this place?"

"Down the hall and to the left, I think."

"Gottcha." Jamie stood up, pausing just long enough to give Dillon a light peck on the lips. That Jamie was able to be affectionate in the middle of all this was a gift to Dillon. He only hoped Ash could find the same thing with someone. Someone who was actually able to love him back this time.

Jamie had been gone for less than a minute when Dillon heard him screaming. "Oh, God. Dillon, help me, please!"

Dillon was down the hall and to the bathroom in two seconds. Jamie was holding on to Ash's legs as Ash sagged like a rag doll from what looked like a belt lashed to the railing for the glass shower doors. Unfortunately, in keeping with the scale of the house, whoever designed the bathroom oversized the shower stall, making the top of the thick brass railing only about two feet shorter than the bathroom's nine foot ceiling. Jamie was doing his best to hold Ash up so he could breath, but he was staggering under Ash's weight. Dillon ran to help, taking Ash's body on himself. The stool Ash had used to stand on while he tethered the belt was still within reach. Jamie picked it up and stood on his tiptoes to unbuckle and untie the thick leather. The minute Ash was loose, Dillon lowered him to the floor and pulled the belt free of his neck. Ash was breathing, but barely. His pulse was almost nonexistent as Dillon whipped his cell phone out of his pocket and called nine-one-one. He prayed to God they got there in time.

* * *

Brandon handed Jamie and Dillon each a cup of steaming coffee. They were the only three people in the waiting room of Chicago General's I.C.U. at the moment, and Jamie was grateful. He couldn't get the picture of Ash's limp body from his mind. He felt sick, and he felt responsible. If he hadn't given Ash that letter, none of this would have happened. His only consolation right now was that Ash was still alive, albeit barely. Well, that and the fact that Brandon wasn't questioning the story Dillon and Jamie had given him. At least, not yet anyway.

Brandon sat down across from Dillon and stretched his long legs in front of himself. "Okay, let's go through this one more time, just so I'll have it all straight in my head when I go back to the station to file my report. You say you went to see Ash because you had some papers that belonged to him and needed to give them back."

Jamie said, "Yes, sir," and felt the slight nudge from Dillon's knee. Since they were sitting side by side, Brandon didn't seem to notice it, but Jamie got the message, loud and clear. He knew Dillon wanted him to tell Brandon everything, but Jamie couldn't do it. Not until he knew what Ben was doing out on Tully Road that night. Not until he had a chance to get a few things settled in his mind.

Brandon took a sip of his coffee. "When you got there, did he seem anxious, depressed at all?"

Jamie played it off. "I don't really know Ash that well, Sheriff. Not well enough to judge his mood."

"Uh huh. And these papers you say you had of his, what were they, and how did you come to have them in your possession?"

"I didn't read them, Sheriff." True enough. Dillon had read the letter out loud at Ash's request. "I'm not really sure why I ended up with them, but when I realized the papers belonged to Ash, Dillon and I took them over there."

Brandon narrowed his eyes. "So the fact that you were at Ashton Barnes's house the night he tried to off himself was just some stellar coincidence? Some cosmic mistake?"

"Oh, yeah. No doubt." Jamie wasn't lying in the least when he said that part. This whole thing was a mistake, from beginning to end. Jamie still loved Ben, loved the memory of him, but he was blown away by his first real glimpse of Ben's mercenary side. How could Ben be so loving with him, and so damned cold towards everyone else? It made no sense.

Brandon crossed his ankles. "Well, whatever the circumstances, Ashton is damned lucky you showed up when you did. What did he do, get up to go to the bathroom and then lash a belt to his neck while he was in there?"

Jamie shrugged. "I'm not sure what he was thinking." True again. He couldn't imagine what Ash must have been thinking.

"What made you decide to go back to the bathroom to check on him? Did you have a reason to be worried about him?"

Jamie was this close to coming apart under the questioning. He was grateful when Dillon stepped in. "Actually, Jamie had to pee, Sheriff. He figured Ash would be finished. Speaking of Ash, how is he?"

Brandon sighed. "I'm not sure. As soon as I got the call from the nine-one-one dispatcher about a possible attempted suicide--and found out who it was--I called my brother, Keith, who's a neurologist here on staff, and asked him to take the case. It's not unusual for me to request a specific doctor for a case, and Keith is one of the best. If anyone can put Ash back to rights, it's him."

"Wait a minute. What case? Ash hasn't committed a crime or anything."

Brandon made his voice sound as gentle as he could. "Jamie, he tried to commit suicide. That's not something to be taken lightly. If Ash does pull through, it's gonna be a while before he can go back home. He'll need to see a team of psychiatrists and counselors, and those guys will have to be satisfied that Ash won't try to kill himself again before they let him leave. Even then, he's gonna need therapy, maybe even medication."

Jamie rubbed his hands over his face. God, what a mess. Dillon leaned forward. "Here comes Keith."

Jamie looked up to see the eldest Nash brother coming down the hall. Keith Nash looked a lot like Brandon, dark haired and blue eyed, but there was no doubt which one was the doctor and which one was the sheriff. Keith just screamed bedside manner, while Brandon was the picture of a no-nonsense cop.

Brandon, Jamie, and Dillon all stood as Keith held out his hand to Jamie. "Keith Nash, brother to Megan and this lug right here, as well five assorted others."

Jamie shook his hand. "James Walker. Megan talks about you a lot."

Keith beamed. "Of course she does. I'm her favorite brother."

Brandon elbowed him in the ribs. "Quit clowning and tell us about Ash."

Keith eyed Jamie and Dillon. "Normally I'd only give this information to Ashton's next of kin." He looked to Bran. "Any luck getting in touch with his dad?"

"Not yet. I got through to the secretary at Barnes Securities, his dad's company. She said she'd try to reach him, but I have no idea when that will be."

Keith nodded. "Since these two saved Ashton's life, I'm sure his father won't mind if I bend the rules just this once. If he does, he can take it up with you." He grinned at Brandon.

Bran said, "Gee, thanks. Why don't we sit back down and then you can give us the update?"

The four of them chose their chairs, Keith and Bran facing Jamie and Dillon. Keith said, "From the E.M.T. report and your own statements, the best we can figure is that Ash was only without oxygen for two minutes, tops. That's a good thing. The M.R.I. shows no obvious signs of brain or spinal cord trauma, again, a good thing. His vital signs were faint and iffy when he came in here, but now they're steady and climbing, the third ball in our court." He shifted in his chair. "Now for the not so good. Ash is still not conscious, and we can't find an obvious cause. I'm guessing shock, but like I say, that's just speculation on my part. He's got a two-inch contusion encompassing the circumference of his neck, most noticeable in the front where the bulk of the force was exerted against his skin, and there's no doubt it'll leave a scar. A good plastic surgeon could probably decrease the appearance of the scar, but he'll always have a slight reminder of what he tried to do. That won't be his only reminder, either. Ashton's vocal cords were damaged. He'll be able to talk, but his voice will never sound the same. Even with all that, though, he's one lucky young man. Our goal now is to keep him from ever trying this again."

"I already explained to them about the observation and the counseling." Brandon stood up, stretching. "I'm gonna try one more time to light a fire under that secretary's butt, and then I'm off to the station to fill out a report." Bran clapped his brother on the back. "Keep me posted." He squeezed first Dillon and then Jamie on the shoulder. "You two call me if you need me, or if you think of anything else that might help Ash." The look he gave them let Jamie know that Brandon had no doubts they were hiding something. Thank God he wasn't pressing it. With one last goodbye to all three of them, Brandon left.

Keith stood as well, prompting Dillon and Jamie to rise to their feet. "I've got another critical patient upstairs, so I'm gonna go back up. Why don't the two of you head on home? It'll be hours before Ash wakes up, I'm guessing, and even then, you'll have to wait until he's moved out of I.C.U. before you can see him."

That sounded like a plan to Jamie. He was tired, tired of all the sickness and death, and tired of trying to reconcile his memories of Ben the friend with his knowledge of Ben the blackmailer. He felt Dillon take his hand and lead him towards the exit. Jamie was more than happy to go.

The elevator ride down to the parking garage was largely silent. It wasn't until they were halfway between floors nine and ten that Dillon said, "Are you so quiet because you're worried about Ash or because you're thinking about Ben and what he did?"

Jamie grimaced. "A little of both, I guess. Well, that and I'm still trying to figure out what Ben was doing out on Tully Road when he'd promised to meet Ash at Tanner Textile."

Dillon leaned against the south wall of the elevator. "Maybe he just said that to get Ash off his back. Promising to meet somebody and then standing them up is a sure way to get that 'fuck off' vibe across to them."

Jamie shook his head. "I don't think so. Ben was way too direct for that. If he'd wanted to tell Ash to fuck off, he would have just said it. No, if Ben told Ash he was gonna meet him, he was planning on following through."

Dillon said, "Maybe," but Jamie could tell he had his doubts. After a few minutes of silence, Dillon picked back up with, "So, what's the plan?"

Jamie did his best to project the proverbial halo. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Come off it, Jamie. This is me you're talking to." The elevator doors opened to their floor just as he said it. Dillon took Jamie's hand and led him out. "I've known you too long for that to fly. You've always got some kind of plan. You're a whole lot like Megan on that score."

Jamie gave in. "All right. I'll tell you what I'm thinking, but you aren't gonna like it."

* * *

Just as Jamie predicted, Dillon didn't like what he was planning. Even so, Dillon was supportive and offered only minimal protest when they pulled up in front of the Reed County Jail the following Monday after school.

"You sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure. The only person who might have seen anything that night--that we know of, anyway--was Barry Sledge. He's the last person ever to see Ben, and if Ben was up to something that night, Sledge might have seen it."

"Jamie, the guy's in jail for vehicular homicide. He hasn't even been sentenced yet. What makes you think he's gonna tell you anything?"

Jamie reached for the door handle. "He may not say a single word to me, but I don't have anything to lose by trying. I'm hoping that if I approach him the right way and show him that I'm not any kind of a threat, he'll open up to me. That's one of the reasons I want to go in by myself. If you come with me, he might not say anything. One on one is better."

"I understand, but just be careful. And hurry. Keith sent word through Megan that we can see Ash this afternoon."

"He's awake, then?"

"Awake and in his own room." Dillon left the car running and leaned back in the seat. "I'll wait here for you." Jamie reached for the door handle just as Dillon said, "Hey, Jamie?"

"Yeah?"

"I . . ." He trailed off, and Jamie could tell he was measuring his words. Finally, he said, "I'm here if you need me."

Jamie leaned over and gave Dillon's lips a soft brush with his own. "I know that. Why do you think I've made it through this whole mess as well as I have?" He left before Dillon could say anything else.

The Reed County Jail wasn't a place Jamie wanted to become well acquainted with. Unlike the small cluster of holding cells attached to the sheriff's office, the county jail had the look of a prison, from the gray, peeling paint on the walls to the stands of metal detectors anchored in the lobby. In essence, it was a prison, the place where the most serious offenders were held over for trial, and where those serving less than a year did their time. After signing in, Jamie was led to the visitor's area, a row of glassed-in booths with phones on either side of the glass. The officer in charge instructed Jamie to have a seat at booth seven and wait. Jamie swallowed against the butterflies in his stomach and did as he was told.

Barry Sledge came out a few minutes later. Even with the orange jumpsuit and the cuffs encircling his wrists, Sledge didn't look like a killer. Jamie did his best to remember that this man was responsible for Ben's death, but one look at Sledge's pitted face and brown, sorrow-filled eyes had Jamie feeling pity for the man.

Sledge sat down and picked up the phone, motioning for Jamie to do the same. Jamie picked up in time to hear Sledge say, "There must be a mistake here. I was told I had a visitor, but I don't know you." His voice was scratchy and strained, years of alcohol abuse having made its mark.

Here goes. "Mr. Sledge, my name is James Walker, and I need to talk to you. I promise I'll make it quick." Jamie hesitated. "I'm a friend of Ben Lewis."

All the color drained from Sledge's normally ruddy face. He started to hang up the phone, but Jamie wasn't about to let that happen. "Wait, don't hang up. Please. I promise I'll make it quick, but this is important, and you're the only one I can ask."

Sledge hesitated but put the phone back to his ear, giving Jamie the window he needed to say, "I'm not here to talk about the accident, not really. I have reason to believe my friend was supposed to have been somewhere besides Tully Road that night. Since you were the last person to, uh . . . see him, I was hoping maybe you saw something--anything--that might help me figure out what he was doing out there."

Sledge looked around, making sure no one was standing behind him. Finally, he said, "Look, kid, all I can tell you is what I told the cops when they picked me up. I was driving home from Philly's Tavern when I saw this kid laying in the middle of the road. I tried to slow down, but he was wearing black and I didn't see him until it was too late. There wasn't anything I could do for him, so I split. I didn't see nothing or no one besides that."

Jamie's mind was reeling. "What do you mean Ben was 'laying in the middle of the road?'"

Sledge screwed up his face. "What are you, deaf? I meant just what I said. I was moving along Tully Road at a fair clip and all of a sudden, there was this kid, just laying there." Sledge snorted. "Not that the cops believed me. Thought I was lying just to save my own skin. That court-appointed, ass-wipe lawyer they assigned me swore up and down all the tests confirmed that kid very well could have died from the impact of my car. That's when I knew I couldn't get out of it, so I took the deal the D.A. offered and told em what they wanted to hear. Well, I got news for em: I wasn't lying. I may have hit that guy, but let me tell you something, Mr. James Walker, I didn't kill him. You want my opinion? That boy was dead before I ever came along."