A year passed, and three
more. Trent
slowly managed to push Rory to the back of his mind, only occasionally
wondering what had happened to him. Had he just picked up and left? Possible,
even though if he had, he’d left all his belongings behind. Had he been mugged,
something Trent
had cautioned him to be careful about the last time they’d talked? If so why
hadn’t he shown up at one of the hospitals or, God forbid, the morgue? All
those things ran through his head when he did think of Rory and of the life
they’d been building together before he vanished.
Then, four years after
Rory’s disappearance, Trent
got a phone call from Rory’s father.
“The New Orleans police just got in touch with
us,” Mr Mathieu said haltingly. “They found… some remains. They think they
could be Rory’s. There was a driver’s license and… and his class ring with
the—Damn, this is hard. It was just some bones.”
Trent listened with dismay, feeling as if he’d been
punched in the gut. “Are they certain the bones are his?” he asked quietly.
“I gather, from what the
detective said, that there weren’t many. It was in… they were buried in… Bayou
Piquant?”
Trent nodded, realized Mr Mathieu couldn’t see that and
replied, “Yes. It’s not too far outside of the city. How the hell…? Well you
wouldn’t know. Did the detective have any idea how long his body was there?”
“He didn’t say. My wife and
I are flying down in the morning.” He sighed sadly. “Not that there’s anything
to identify but we can’t just leave him… the… bones… to be buried in some
pauper’s grave.”
“Tell me when you’re
arriving and I’ll meet you at the airport.”
Mr Mathieu protested that
they could catch a cab into the city, but Trent
insisted he’d be there to pick them up. “You can stay at my hotel,” he added. “We
have a couple of vacancies at the moment.”
They settled the details and
then hung up.
How the hell did you end up in the bayou? Trent was devastated by the idea, and even more so by the
thought he would never see Rory again. He knew that somewhere deep inside he
had always hoped his lover would walk back into his life one day, smiling as he
said, “Did you miss me?”
Now that would never
happen.
I've just caught up on a few posts, poor Trent (and Rory of course). Enjoying so far!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Suze!
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