Stumptown Page 3

  “That leaves it open.” Douglas laughed.

  “Just remember to keep the noise down. You don’t want the neighbors to hear.”

  Harrison’s eyebrows lowered. “Go on!” he said.

  “Bye! And that’s not my sexual preference,” Justus teased. He closed the front door behind him and continued to laugh all the way to his car.

  Chapter Three

  The knot in Justus’ stomach had not loosened all weekend. After submitting the missing person report, the officer explained that, should they locate Jack and his actions were voluntary, they might not be able to disclose his whereabouts unless he gave the police permission to do so. “Filing a missing person report on an adult doesn’t entitle you to know where they are, only that they are safe,” she had said.

  Why did I even bother? Justus had the feeling he had wasted his time and that the police were not really going to do anything. He wondered if this was how Harrison felt last year when Thomas had disappeared.

  Adding to his discomfort was the fact he had been avoiding Dean’s phone calls, and there were many, sometimes one right after the other. He did listen to the messages, which did not help matters because Dean sounded so happy and hopeful. Why doesn’t he take the hint?

  “Cheer up,” Harrison said when they reached the twenty-eighth floor. “Remember, focus on work.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Justus said.

  “I know,” Harrison answered. “But give the police a chance to do their thing.”

  “There you are,” a woman greeted when Justus and Harrison walked into the main office. “I left you something on your desk.”

  “What?” Justus asked and turned around to see her slip out the door heading for her office downstairs.

  “Wonder what that was all about?” Harrison said.

  “Me too,” Justus said and picked up his pace.

  The file room was a windowless room right inside the main office doors. It had an open archway instead of doors, something that Justus did not understand given the sensitive files stored in the cabinets. In the center of the room, two desks had been pushed together, facing each other. They were separated by a small cloth-covered partition that sat along the front edges of the desks. It was the width of the desk and a foot high. Large, metal filing cabinets lined the walls. The cabinets to the right were white, against the far wall, gray, and to the left, black. At first Justus thought they were color coded based on the files inside, but he quickly learned the color had nothing to do with the filing system. A large schoolhouse-style clock hung above the cabinets on the wall opposite the doorway. Its mechanism was synced with the other clocks in the outer office. Debra, his former workmate, had accused Justus of ducking out early to their boss. She had always been trying to get people fired. It turned out that she had tampered with the clock. Regardless, in the end, she had been the one who lost her job.

  Justus stopped abruptly in the doorway when he saw the something on his desk. Harrison bumped into him.

  “Well, well, well,” he said and put his hand on Justus’ shoulder. “Guess you were either really good or really bad,” he teased and laughed.

  Justus scowled at him. He knew who had sent them. There was only one person who would have. How did he know where I worked? Did I tell him?

  “So, who are they from?” Harrison asked and slipped past Justus. He walked over to the flowers and took the small card off the plastic fork stuck in the center of the bouquet.

  “Don’t!” Justus gasped, sounding afraid.

  Harrison looked at him and laughed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I know who sent them,” he answered.

  “You do?”

  “Yes, it’s the guy I spent the night with,” Justus admitted.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to tell people where you worked. Isn’t that one of your rules?”

  “Yes,” Justus answered sounding disgusted with himself. “It just slipped out. Would you take them away, please?”

  “What do you want me to do with them?”

  “I don’t know, keep them or give them to someone. I don’t care. I don’t want to see them.”

  “Then I’ll give them to Vicki since she brought them up.”

  “Fine,” Justus answered.

  Harrison picked up the vase and started to leave. He stopped and handed Justus the small envelope. “At least read the message,” he said in a fatherly tone.

  Justus took the envelope. Harrison left. Slowly Justus walked over to his desk. He opened the unsealed flap and pulled out a small card. “Have a good day, Dean,” it read. He stuck the card back into the envelope and dropped it into the wastebasket under his desk.

  When Justus rounded the corner of SW 9th Avenue onto Stark Street, he could hear the excited chatter of a group of guys headed for Stumptown. Judging by the lack of parking for two blocks around the club, it promised to be a good night. He opened the heavy, carved wood door and immediately the music spilled into the street.

  Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Justus spotted the gang at their usual table. Dale waved him over.

  “Hey where’ve you been?” Dale asked. “Normally you’re the first one here.” He gave Justus a bear hug.

  Justus pulled out an empty chair over to the table and sat down between Dale and Scotty, facing the dance floor. He glanced at Marcus, seated on the other side of Scotty against the rail divider. Marcus was distracted by someone on the dance floor.

  “May I get you something from the bar?” a voice spoke into Justus’ ear, causing him to jump.

  Justus looked at the server. He recognized him immediately as the guy Dale had hooked up with the week before, only now neither would look at the other.

  “Uh, sure, a Captain Morgan’s and Coke, heavy on the rum,” Justus answered.

  “Coming right up,” the server said and gave Justus a pat on his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

  “Busy night,” Justus said, almost having to shout over the loud music and chatter.

  “Live DJ night,” Scotty shouted back. He pointed toward the head of the dance floor at the large speakers and console that had been set up.

  That explains the added volume, Justus thought.

  The server returned and set Justus’ drink down in front of him. Justus paid for the drink and gave him a tip. The server thanked him, glared at Dale for a moment then left.

  “I take it the romance is over?” Justus asked Dale.

  Dale shot a glance over his shoulder in the direction of the bar and then turned back to his friends. “Yeah, and it was so promising, too. How could someone so hot be so lousy in bed?”

  “What?” Marcus gasped, glanced at the bar and then back at Dale. “You not talking about Troy are you?”

  “Yes,” Dale answered.

  “You’re nuts! What do you mean? He’s an animal,” Marcus said in the server’s defense. “It must have been you.”

  Dale glared at Marcus and pursed his lips as though getting ready to punch him.

  “Never mind him,” Scotty interrupted. “Any news on Jack?”

  Justus’ shoulders slumped a bit. He looked at his drink. He really did not want to talk about Jack even though he could not get Jack out of his head. He took a gulp of his drink and almost choked. It was a lot stronger than he had expected.

  “I made the report last Saturday,” he finally said. “The policewoman said they’d look into it but not to get my hopes up. If Jack doesn’t want to be found we may never know where he went or why, or if he intends on coming back.”

  “Well, thanks but no thanks,” Marcus quipped. He gulped down the rest of his drink, leaving only ice cubes to melt away.

  “What’s the good of filing a report then?” Scotty asked.

  “She did say when they find him they could at least let us know if he’s okay.”

  “Well, that’s something, I guess.” Dale sighed and slumped in his chair a bit.

  “So, now what?” Scotty asked.

>   “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to get another drink and have a look around,” Marcus responded. “There are some really hot guys out tonight and some new faces.”

  “Who are you kidding, you aren’t looking at faces,” Dale teased.

  “Very funny,” Marcus said while he stood up. Before anyone could object, he disappeared in the crowd.

  “He’s such a whore,” Dale said.

  “Don’t call him that!” Scotty snapped. “You’re not exactly innocent.”

  “Well excuse me, Virgin Scotty.”

  “Enough!” Justus shouted. “Will you two stop it already?”

  “Well, he started it,” Dale said.

  “No, you started it by calling Marcus a whore,” Scotty snapped again.

  “I don’t care,” Justus said. “None of us, except you Scotty, have any room to talk.”

  “That’s right.” Scotty sneered at Dale.

  “Fine, I’m outta here.” Dale stood up and was gone.

  “Some things never change,” Scotty said. He shook his head and took a sip of his drink.

  “We should cut him some slack,” Justus said. “He’s worried about Jack.”

  “No, he’s being a jerk, as usual,” Scotty groused.

  “What on earth have you been drinking tonight?” Justus asked. “This is a new side of you.”

  “It’s just Coke,” Scotty admitted and tilted his glass to show Justus its dark-liquid contents. “Sometimes he gets on my nerves, that’s all.”

  “I see. Well, nice to hear you speaking up,” Justus said and bumped shoulders with him.

  “Mind if I join you guys?” Dean asked and slipped into Dale’s abandoned chair before either Justus or Scotty could answer.

  “Hi,” Justus gasped and felt his body go numb. “What are you doing here?”

  “What everyone else is, I guess,” he answered and smiled while he looked at Justus.

  “Oh yeah,” Justus said.

  “So, who’s your friend?” Scotty asked.

  Justus glanced at Scotty and felt panicked. Reluctantly, he introduced the two.

  “Nice to meet you, Scotty,” Dean said politely. “I’m glad I ran into you.” He looked back at Justus. “So how was your week?”

  “Crazy.”

  “Did you get the flowers?”

  “Flowers?” Scotty asked.

  Justus glanced at him and then back at Dean. “Yes, thank you,” he acknowledged.

  “I was wondering because you haven’t returned my calls.”

  Scotty drank the last of his Coke and stood up. “I’m gonna get another Coke,” he announced and slipped away.

  Without his backup, Justus felt himself growing more anxious. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling cornered. “A lot has been going on. One of our friends is missing.”

  “Oh my, I’m sorry. What happened?” Dean asked sounding sincere.

  “We don’t know. He was last seen leaving the Valentine’s Day party with some guy.”

  “I see.”

  The conversation died quietly. Justus looked across the dance floor at the bar where Scotty stood with his fresh glass of Coke. Justus realized he was not coming back.

  “Say, I was wondering if you wanted to get out of here and come up to my place?” Dean asked.

  “I just got here,” Justus answered and shook his head. “I’d sort of like to stick around.”

  “Okay, maybe later then?” Dean’s tone sounded hopeful.

  “We’ll see,” Justus said and immediately the image of his father flashed in his head. Whenever Justus’ father or mother said those words it meant no. Justus cringed inside at the thought that he had turned into his parents. “I’ll be right back.”

  Before Dean could say another word, Justus practically leapt from his chair. “I gotta pee,” he said. He left his drink behind and slipped into the crowd. Keeping up his pretense, he headed for the men’s room where he hoped to find an empty stall so he could hide out.

  Pushing on the swinging door to the hallway, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Dean was not following. The door struck something with a loud thud. Justus quickly jumped back and pulled the door open.

  “I’m so sorry,” he apologized to the man leaning against the wall rubbing his forehead. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” the man answered and laughed. “Something wrong?” he asked and looked past Justus, through the small window in the door, at the bar.

  Justus gave the stranger the head-to-crotch once over: fabulous light brown hair, piercing dark eyes, nice beard and mustache, and a body screaming to get out of those clothes. Justus smiled at his new conquest. “Yeah, I’m trying to get away from someone.”

  The man smiled and leaned closer. “Name’s Barry,” he said into Justus’ ear.

  “Justus.”

  “Well Justus, you ran into the right person. Come with me. I know a place we can go where that guy won’t find you.”

  “Sure,” Justus said. I’d follow you anywhere.

  Barry turned around and headed back down the hall toward the restrooms.

  “The men’s room?” he asked Barry.

  “You’ll see.”

  Barry stopped at a door across from the men’s room and looked back up the short hallway.

  “The maintenance closet?” Justus asked.

  Barry laughed a deep hearty laugh. Justus felt his knees weaken a bit. “No,” he answered and pushed the door open revealing a small room with a cot. Justus’ pulse quickened. “This is the room they use for people who get sick or need to lay down for a bit.”

  “You’re serious?” Justus asked. In his brief one year of being allowed in bars and clubs he had never heard of such a room. Before Barry could answer, he rushed into the room and sat down on the cot. Barry let the door close.

  The look in Barry’s eyes sent chills through Justus’ body. Justus glanced at the small side table and under the dimly lit lamp noticed a small bowl of condoms in gold wrappers.

  “You sure we won’t be interrupted?” he asked and looked at Barry.

  Barry smiled and turned the knob on the dead bolt. “Door’s locked,” he answered.

  The music from the dance floor masked the sounds coming from the small room. Barry was right; with the door locked they were able to satisfy each other without interruption.

  “That was amazing,” Justus said while he lay in the afterglow with Barry partly lying next to him, partly on him.

  “It was,” Barry agreed.

  “Do you bring lots of guys back here?”

  “No, you’re the first.”

  Justus did not believe him. Barry knew too much about the room for this to be his first time. Justus wiggled free and started to get dressed.

  “Don’t you want to lay here a bit?” Barry asked.

  “Oh, I would but I’m with some friends. I’m sure they’re wondering what happened to me,” Justus answered, pretending as best he could that he really wanted to stay.

  Barry jumped up and started getting into his clothes. “If you wait, I’ll walk out with you.”

  “That’s okay. It might be better if we leave separately.” Justus stepped into his shoes and finished buttoning his shirt before unlocking the door. “I’ll see you on the outside,” he said then slipped back into the hall.

  He was about to push on the swinging door when the door burst inward. Justus jumped back a step.

  “Oh, there you are,” Dean said with a smile. “I thought you might have left or something. You said you were coming back.”

  Justus thought quickly. “I wasn’t feeling too good.”

  The sound of a door opening behind them caused Dean to look past Justus. Dean’s smile disappeared. Justus glanced over his shoulder. Barry was still doing up his belt, and his shirt was half untucked. He froze when he saw the two.

  “Come on, I’ll get you a drink,” Dean said and took Justus by the arm. Justus could not read Dean’s tone but the tight grip Dean had on his arm made him nervous.


  “I’m good, really,” he declined while being pulled back into the club’s main room.

  “A drink might help you feel better,” Dean insisted, leaning closer to Justus’ ear.

  The music seemed louder. Dean escorted Justus up to the bar, still holding onto his arm with a tight grip. He leaned across the bar and ordered two drinks. When the bartender returned, he let go of Justus’ arm to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket. Justus seized the opportunity and slipped away.

  He did not stop running until he reached his car. He fumbled with his keys, nearly dropping them. Once he unlocked the driver’s door, he slipped inside and locked it securely behind him.

  Dear God, that was close.

  He put the key in the ignition and drove away. Once safely across the Burnside Bridge, he pulled over and took out his phone. He sent Scotty, Dale, and Marcus a text explaining he had to leave and would talk to them later. All except for Marcus responded. Justus figured Marcus was otherwise occupied. Still shaking, Justus headed home.

  It took twenty minutes to get through all of the traffic lights on Sandy before turning east onto Halsey. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his fingernails dug into his palms. He could not remember when he had ever felt so frightened.

  He turned north on 62nd Avenue before he slowed down. When he came to Broadway, he turned right and parked at the curb. It took all his strength to release the steering wheel and even then his hands shook. Before unlocking the car door, he turned and looked behind him to be sure he was not followed.

  “You’re sure home early,” Harrison greeted him when he came rushing into the house. Justus closed the front door and locked it behind him.

  Harrison stood in the foyer, a fresh glass of wine in his hand and a confused, yet concerned, look on his face.

  Justus lunged at Harrison and wrapped his arms around him.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Harrison asked while he held onto Justus’ trembling body.

  Justus did not answer. His throat tightened and tears began to seep through his tightly shut eyelids.

  Justus woke the next morning with the sunlight shining through his window. The aroma of bacon and freshly brewed coffee reached his nose. Harrison’s awake. Justus threw off the covers and grabbed his robe. He headed down to the kitchen.