The Colors of Hate - 56

Vince clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Why would these men come here to threaten you, Dean? Why not somewhere where there’s less potential for anyone to see them?”

“For the next few days I’ll only be at one of two places, here and at a safe-house, and I’ll have a police escort coming and going. This whole idea is police sanctioned to catch these men in the act of threatening me.” Which was not quite the truth but Dean wasn’t going to play with the semantics of the statement. “I wanted your input on how best to handle the announcement. And of course,” he looked at Frank and Vince since they were the powers-that-be, “your approval to do this.”

“And if we don’t give it to you?” Frank asked.

“Then I guess I’m back to square one.”

“Well you have mine,” Vince told him.

“And mine,” Frank stated.

“Thank you,” Dean said with a sigh of relief. “So…”

“So,” Carrie glanced at the others, “how about some of us hit the bars tonight and gossip about what’s going on at the theater. See if we can get the word out even more, and hope these men hear about how Dean’s now holed up at the theater until it happens. Or…” she glanced at Dean, “would that sound like a set-up?”

Jim shook his head, saying before Dean could reply, “With this group, gossiping is a way of life when we’re at a bar or the club. I think people would be shocked if we didn’t.”

“Hey,” one of the actors called out, “I resemble that remark.” Everyone laughed, easing the feeling of tension in the room.

“Does anyone see in major flaws in this plan,” Dean asked, regaining their attention.

“One,” Carrie said. “What happens when the men do show up? I really don’t want to find your beaten, bloody body behind one of the backdrops.”

Dean smiled tightly. “It’s not going to happen. That part we have covered. And now, thanks to all of you, the men will have to come here to get to me. So, unless anyone objects, we can bring this meeting to an end.”

No one did. Most of the people left, a couple of them stopping to tell Dean they were proud of him for having the guts to do the television interview in the first place.

When everyone else was gone Frank came over to Dean. “One question, and maybe I should be asking Detective Lasiter but he’s not here. He told me to beef up the security on the theater. Do you know if he still wants it? It could make it harder for these men to get to you.”

“We hadn’t thought of that. I’ll make a unilateral decision and say go back to what it normally is and I’ll let him know.”

Frank nodded sharply and walked quickly from the room.

Dean took a deep breath of relief. Well it’s done, and please God it works.

The Colors of Hate - 55

“All right, here’s the gist of what’s going on.” Dean paced the rehearsal room. The assembled people—about half the company, including Carrie and Jim—listened intently. “The TV interview I did a couple of days ago did not sit well with my father and his followers.”

“Big surprise there,” one of the actors muttered.

“Exactly. My father paid me a visit then returned home. That much I know for certain, thanks to the police. However there are two CVA members still lurking around. One is the man some of you saw dancing with Angela at the club the night she was murdered. That part’s neither here nor there at the moment. What is, is the fact that I’ve received threats from him because of my interview.”

“What can we do to help?” Tayla asked in concern.

“Do you need a safe place to stay?” another actor asked.

Dean shook his head. “At the moment I’m all right as far a housing goes. The thing is, I have to get these men to come after me, and it has to be here in the theater. Anything else, according to the police, would smack of a set up.”

“Why don’t the cops just arrest them, if you know they’re the ones who are threatening you?” someone called out.

Dean chuckled. “Apparently there’s this small thing called proving it. It’s one thing to know it’s them, but they’re smart enough not to leave any real evidence behind.”

“Do you have a plan, or is that why we’re here?” Jim asked.

“I’ve got a vague plan. I want to make a very public announcement about an organization that wants me to be their ‘face’ as they counter all the lies the CVA and other such groups are propagating. And before anyone asks, this isn’t for real but I need to make it sound as if it is.”

“You can make the announcement after the show tonight,” Tayla suggested.

One of the actors shook his head. “Too soon. They’d hear about it and then just go after him somewhere else. We need to let it out that the announcement is coming up. Play it up to get as much publicity as possible.”

“Good point,” Jim said. “Okay, what about a slash banner across the posters out front. Something like, ‘Dean Travers will make a major announcement about the CVA and his plans for the future after the performance on Friday evening’.”

Frank nodded. “We can do that. Plus, we’ve got a new ad for the show that's going into the newspaper Friday morning. I’ll see to it the information about your ‘announcement’ is added to it Dean. If these men haven’t done anything before then, it could give them the final push.”

The Colors of Hate - 54

Kirby wished he knew what was going through Dean’s mind. Was he just tired, unwinding from what had been a very stressful day, or was it something else? He had promised Dean he would put whatever feelings might be developing between them on hold until everything had settled down. Maybe he shouldn’t have. He tapped a thumb against his lips, took another drink of coffee, and then turned to set the cup down.

He could feel Dean’s eyes on him still and looked back now, a slight smile playing across he lips. “Come here,” he said softly.

Dean flinched away as if Kirby had shouted the words.

Reaching out, Kirby placed one hand on Dean’s shoulder, tugging gently.

For a brief moment Dean resisted. “I thought…”

“Don’t think. Do.” Sliding his hand up, he cupped the nape of Dean’s neck, urging him to come closer.

Dean did, his eyes searching Kirby’s face as if looking for confirmation of what he thought was happening.

Kirby traced a finger over the shape of Dean’s mouth, moving it away seconds later to replace it with his lips, brushing them lightly over Dean’s. When Dean didn’t try to move away Kirby increased the pressure. He felt Dean respond, kissing him back hesitantly.

“I won’t take it any further than this,” Kirby whispered. “Not tonight. I just wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss you.”

“It felt good. I mean… Oh hell.”

Kirby laughed. “Yeah it did, at least I thought so.”

“I did too.” Dean’s gaze locked on Kirby’s mouth before he leaned close enough to kiss him again.

Kirby returned the kiss as it was given, slowly and gently, not asking for more than what Dean was willing to allow.

When they broke apart Dean sighed. Kirby pulled him against his chest, just holding him.

“That was…” Dean whispered.

“Wonderful, awful, the first time you’ve ever kissed a man?”

“Wonderful, I think. And,” Dean paused before admitting, “yes, the first time, for kissing that is.”

“Not big on kissing?” Kirby asked.

“I never wanted to. It seemed. Damn it.” He turned his head to look up at Kirby. “I’m not a total innocent, but somehow…”

Kirby nodded, understanding. “You’ve had sex with a man, but never gone to bed with one, or even gone home with one.”

Dean nodded. “I couldn’t allow myself to do that.”

“I get the picture.” Kirby cupped Dean’s chin in one hand. “When this is over and you feel ready, if you want to that is, I’ll show you what it’s like to make love, not just have down and dirty backroom sex.”

“I want to. Just not…tonight.” Dean shook his head. “I feel like… Damn you wouldn’t think I was almost as old as you. I’m acting like a high school kid, or worse.”

“Not at all. You’ve had to keep everything inside and hidden. I suppose the best description would be, it’s as if you’ve lived your whole life in a cave and now you’re out in the world and free to explore what it has to offer.”

“That was very poetic,” Dean told him, smiling. “And very true. I want to explore it all.”

“Just not tonight. That’s fine. We’ll take things one step at a time.”

“Thank you,” Dean whispered. Then, probably to the surprise of both of them, he kissed Kirby again and it wasn’t tentative this time. It wasn’t probing, but it definitely was a kiss that said he wanted to do it. And somehow, it managed to promise there would be more, in time.

The Colors of Hate - 53

Dean nodded. “I know a bit. A few names of people who support my father behind the scenes, or who did back when I lived at home. The money men.”

Reid shook his head. “That could put you in more danger than you are now. We don’t really want them to try to kill you.”

“All right, we won’t go in that direction. But,” he smiled, “maybe something even better. I’ve got some real prestige now because of the TV interview. So, I let it out there are some powerful people who have come to me, asking me to be the front-man, the face of an organization being formed to counter the CVA lies and distortions.”

The two detectives considered his idea. Finally they both nodded. “That could do it,” Kirby said. “That could definitely bring them out of the woodwork. They won’t kill you. It would be counter-productive. But I’d be willing to bet they’ll want to threaten you in person. All we need is to record them when they do and we’ll be able to arrest them for criminal threatening or intimidation. If their threats are based on your sexuality it also becomes a hate-crime.”

“Then we have a plan. I’ll try to figure out how to implement the publicity part, and I bet some of the people I work with can come up with some ideas. After all it is a theater.”

“All right. Anything else we need to talk about?” Reid asked. “If not I’m going home and get some sleep.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see you in the morning.” Kirby walked him to the door, locking and bolting it, as well as setting the alarm, once he’d left. When he returned to the living room he found it empty and most of the table cleared. Smiling slightly he went into the kitchen to find Dean rinsing off the plates before putting them in the dishwasher. “You don’t have to do that,” he told him.

“You ever try to scrape dried-on food off in the morning? It sucks. Besides if I’m staying here I want to pull my own weight.”

“Okay. I wasn’t really complaining, just commenting.”

Dean finished up while Kirby went back to clear the rest of the table, putting the small amounts of leftover food into the refrigerator. When they finished Kirby asked, “Are you heading to bed or would you like some coffee?”

“Coffee sounds good to me. I’m tired, but not, if you know what I mean.”

“I totally do.” Kirby set the coffee to brewing.

“So…are you rich, or just on the take?” Dean asked in a teasing tone of voice.

Kirby laughed. “Neither. This place belonged to one of my brothers before he decided to get married and move out of state. It was half paid for, he let me take over the mortgage, I refinanced it down to payments I could afford and now it belongs to me.”

“Nice. Maybe someday I’ll have a place to call my own. Oh, did I tell you my landlord isn’t planning on kicking me out.”

“Great. That must be a relief.” Kirby poured them each some coffee and they went back out to the living room, settling down on either end of the sofa.

“It is. If there’s one thing I hate it’s apartment hunting.”

“I’m with you on that one.” Kirby smiled at him over the rim of his mug.

Dean liked how Kirby’s eyes sort of crinkled up when he smiled. It made him seem more human, less cop, although he couldn’t have said why he felt that way. He studied his face, feeling suddenly tongue-tied.

Kirby cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I…”

“You what?”

“I don’t know.”

The Colors of Hate - 52

Dean came into the living room in time to see Reid enter carrying several take-out bags from a local deli. “I gather this is a working supper,” Dean said as Reid put them down on the table and Kirby disappeared into the kitchen.

“Of course. What else?” Reid asked.

“Nothing.” Dean shrugged.

Kirby reappeared with bottles of beer balanced on three plates. He set them on the table, went back for silverware, then they sat down to eat.

“Tell Reid about your father’s visit,” Kirby said after they’d made some inroads into the meal.

Dean gave him a brief version of what had happened, ending with, “He’s all bluster.”

Reid shook his head. “Don’t count on it. Mr Jones is still in town, along with another cohort. We finally located his whereabouts. Unfortunately we have no reason to roust either of them.”

“I see,” Dean said slowly. “Where are they?”

“Southtown Motel, using aliases. But we’ve confirmed the one man is Jones.”

“So now what?”

“That’s a good question. We could wait them out, but if they leave there’s no guarantee your father wouldn’t just send someone else, presuming they’re here on his orders.”

“Which they might not be,” Kirby pointed out. “Jones might have decided to deal with you on his own.”

“Then why hasn’t he tried to?”

“Excuse me? Who do you think slipped the message under your hotel room door, and spray painted the front of your building? Mickey Mouse?”

“Okay, point made.” Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair as he looked at Kirby. “I could start wandering the streets at two a.m.” he said with a slight smile. “That should draw them out.”

“Not happening,” Kirby growled in reply. “Besides, they’d think it was a set-up, all things considered.”

“It would be better to draw them to the theater,” Reid said pensively. “If we could come up with a way to do it. It is Dean’s venue, so to speak. The place he spends the majority of his time.”

Dean nodded, began to say something and stopped as he looked at the two detectives. “Question. Is this something homicide cops usually do? I don’t want the two of you getting in trouble because of me.”

“We’re on our own time right now, so the department really has no say in it,” Reid told him.

“And I threatened to take a leave of absence if he didn’t help out here,” Kirby added.

Reid chuckled. “The one threat that really works. I don’t want to be stuck with someone else, trust me.”

“Back to the problem at hand,” Kirby said. “What can we do to get them to the theater? We need something which doesn’t smack of a set-up.”

All three men thought about it as they finished the last of their meal. Then Dean snapped his fingers. “Got it. I publically threaten to go to the newspapers with the full story of the CVA. The truth behind the lies of who and what they are.”

“Do you actually know that?”