The Artist and the Actor – 20

 

 

When he arrived home late Monday afternoon, Colin had debated letting Shane know about his visit with Detective Randall. It took him all of two seconds to decide against it as he didn't want to precipitate another set-to with him. Or have him ignore my call because he's out with some guy he works with, or at a club trying to pick someone up. True, when he'd said something about Shane's having a new man in his life, Shane had denied it, but then he'd denied he was playing around when they were together—until Colin had found out otherwise.

 

Changing into his grubbies, he'd fixed a quick supper before getting back to his painting. It was well after midnight when he stopped, cleaned up, and went to bed. Despite being exhausted, he couldn't fall asleep. Something was niggling at him and he finally figured out what. With everything that had happened, he had forgotten to call his parents.

 

Of course, they didn't call me, either. Maybe enough time had gone by that we don't need to 'commemorate' Kenny's death by rehashing everything that happened? He supposed that could be the reason as far as his parents were concerned. They had done it every anniversary since that fateful night. Now, perhaps, they wanted to move on. He knew he had decided it was time for him to do so.

 

There was another reason he had conveniently forgotten to call them, he realized. He might have said something to them about Gene Logan's murder. If anything would have brought back the pain and anguish, it would have been telling them the same thing had happened to another young man, ten years to the day after Kenny had died. "It's just as well I didn’t call, and that they didn't," he said under his breath.

 

Having come to that conclusion, he was finally able to fall asleep.   

 

Tuesday morning he was back in his studio, hard at work. Because he hoped the detective might call, he put his phone on 'vibrate' then stuck it in his pocket. In some part of his mind, he also hoped Shane might call, even though he knew it was doubtful. He'd said he would be at the theater doing run-throughs all day and tomorrow, too, and then there would be a full rehearsal on Thursday—and opening night was Friday. Chances are he'll use it as an excuse not to get in touch with me. Not that I blame him, after the way I acted. Maybe, if he doesn't call, I'll call him. Or maybe I won't. Who knows? He chuckled softly. "I don't, that's for sure.