Deadly Silence 5 by Victor J. Banis

Author:Victor J. Banis [Banis, Victor J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Gay, Mystery & Detective, Crime, Romance, Suspense, MLR Press; ISBN ISBN# 978-1-60820-106-8, Erotica
ISBN: 9781608201051
Google: XBIgw3PHd2cC
Amazon: 1608201058
Publisher: MLR Press
Published: 2010-06-29T12:00:00+00:00

DeaDly Silence 87

“You did everything but drop Spanish fly in his beer, honey.

Stanley, Tom’s in love with you.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? I’m not sure you know what that means. Tom isn’t one of those silly queen types, falling in and out of love at the sniff of a new crotch. Tom’s a one man kind of guy. You can’t cheat on a man like that. It would destroy him.”

“I haven’t cheated on him.”

“Yet.”

“Yet.”

“Listen to me, Mister Korski, you cannot…”

“I know.” And Stanley looked so miserable that his old friend nearly relented, but Chris wasn’t having any of that, either.

“…You cannot step out on Tom Danzel. You just cannot do that.”

“I know,” Stanley said again. “It’s just, well, I don’t want us to become one of those couples who stay together only because we think we’ll be less miserable with one another than we will be on our own.”

Another silence descended. Solange came by carrying a pot of coffee, filled Chris’s cup and took note that Stanley’s was still full, and decided that this was not the time to linger for her usual chat with these two. Clearly, something was up, something serious. She went on to the next table, signaled away the approaching waitress to give her two friends time to resolve whatever the issue was.

“So, what are you going to do?” Chris asked finally.

“I don’t know.” Almost crying.

“Tom’s in San Diego?”

“He gets back this morning. In an hour or so.”

“And you’ll be waiting for him with open arms?”

“Of course I will. What do you think I am?” 88 Victor J. Banis

“Sweetie, this is not the time to ask me that question.” Stanley’s cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID. Patience Pendleton. If there was anybody he did not want to talk to at this moment, she was it. Still, she was a client, one who was paying them an exorbitant amount of money.

He dutifully pressed the button and said, “Yes, Patience?”

§ § § § §

Norman Shandler was staying with his sister in El Cajon, a bedroom community to the east of San Diego. Tom spent the night at a Marriott near the airport. The sun was just creeping over the horizon the following morning when he set out in a rented Toyota for El Cajon. With the help of a friendly GPS

device Hertz had provided, he found the address he was looking for, a pleasant little bungalow on a quiet cul-de-sac.

The collection of toys, bicycles, wading pools and skateboards littering the front lawn and the driveway suggested the house itself, however, was unlikely to be so quiet, and that impression was confirmed the moment a sullen looking teen-aged girl opened the door for him. In the background, a television blared and a couple of childish voices were engaged in a heated argument.

“Am not.” “Are so.” “Mom…”

A harried looking woman came out of what looked to be the kitchen, balancing an infant on one hip. “You must be the detective,” she said, and without waiting for affirmation, turned her head toward the stairs and yelled, “Norman.

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