A Secret to Die For Read online

  “I get the picture. I’ll play farmer and harvest them.”

  “Where’s your straw hat?” Conley grinned when Brian shot him a look of disgust before they went downstairs—Conley to the study, Brian out to the back yard.

  Another step in our becoming friends, at least as far as he’s concerned? Conley hoped so. He would need Brian’s friendship before he could put the next step of his and Alistair’s plan into motion. It’s hard to become close to someone if they only see you as a guy who shows up to do what he’s paid to and nothing more. He had to have Brian totally involved in his life before his year at the house ended if he was going to accept what would happen—and help Conley accomplish it. Just don’t fall in love with him, Conley admonished himself. He’d come close to doing that once and the results had almost been disastrous for both of them.

  * * * *

  “Something smells delicious,” Conley said as he came into the kitchen late that afternoon. “My mouth has been watering for the last hour.”

  Brian turned from the stove, smiling. “It’s a bit hodgepodge but I think it works. I didn’t realize there were herbs in the garden, too.”

  “You name it, Alistair and I planted it,” Conley replied. “Okay, not quite true but sometimes it seemed like it. He planned on having an apple tree, after I gave him Sir Kenith, but that never happened.”

  “Maybe we should get one, and an orange tree, too. Of course that would mean tearing up some of the lawn.” Brian went back to stirring the stew. “I’m not sure I like that idea. But in the front yard?”

  Conley chuckled. “Then every kid in the block would be raiding them as soon as the fruit ripened. So stick to buying Sir Kenith, or Sir K as you insist on calling him, what he needs.”

  “It’s shorter and easier to say,” Brian protested.

  “It is. I guess I’m hidebound. Be glad I don’t add the ‘the Red,’ too.”

  “Yeah. That would be a mouthful.” Brian got a serving bowl from the cupboard. He had already set the table in the dining room—the first time he’d used it since he’d moved in. Filling the bowl with the stew, he took it to the table. When he got back to the kitchen he found Conley had already put bread on a plate and gotten out the butter—which he took to the table while Brian got the coffee pot to fill their cups.

  When everything was ready, they sat down to eat.

  “You’re not a bad cook,” Conley commented after taking a few bites.

  “It’s only stew. Hard to mess that up, even without adding meat.”

  “You have no idea. I’ve eaten some I wouldn’t feed to pigs,” Conley replied.

  “Ouch.” Brian continued eating for a few moments before asking, “It’s none of my business, but how did you and Alistair meet?”

  “At a small book fair. He seemed to be interested in a couple of antique-looking volumes and was about to pay the price the seller was asking. I knew they weren’t worth nearly that much, so I stepped in. I though he was just an older retiree with an interest in books and no idea about what he should be paying. I was wrong. He knew what was going on and intended to report the man to the people running the fair, after the man took his money. Needless to say, when that happened the seller was banned and the word went out about what he was doing.”

  “Justice prevailed and my grandfather was so impressed with your knowledge he immediately hired you to catalogue his books.”

  Conley laughed. “Not quite. He did thank me for being concerned and invited me out for coffee. We talked, he told me about his collection and invited me to visit sometime to see what he had. When I did, a month later, needless to say I was impressed. I was also appalled that in some cases he had no idea exactly what he had. As he put it, “I see something I like; I buy it, usually from reputable dealers or second-hand shops.” He admitted he’d been collecting for years and there was no real rhyme or reason to how they ended up on one shelf or another.”

  After a brief pause to eat again, Conley continued. “We became friends because of our mutual love of books. It helped that I was working for a man who owned an antique store. While I couldn’t afford most of the books he had in stock, Alistair could and I let him know when there was something he might be interested in. Finally, about six months after we’d met, and a couple of months after he’d volunteered to give Sir Kenith a home, he broke down and asked if I’d be interested in making some sense out of his collection. Believe me, I jumped on the chance.”

  Brian nodded. “How did you end up being his gardener or grounds man, or whatever you want to call it?”

  “I sort of fell into it. He asked me what kind of flowers I thought he should plant; because at that point all there was back there was the lawn, the pond, and the trees. Given his age, once he’d decided to take my advice, I volunteered to plant them.” Conley laughed. “He knew why I did and was highly incensed at first. He didn’t consider himself old, just well-seasoned, to quote him. Then…” Conley sighed. “Then he was diagnosed with cancer and began chemo, which left him weak and perpetually tired. Ergo, I took over the gardening chores.”

  “And did a great job of it,” Brian replied.

  “Thanks.”

  “I wish I’d known Alistair,” Brian said wistfully.

  “You’d have liked him. He was good people.”

  So are you, I think, despite my original assessment. Brian didn’t say that aloud, instead asking, since they’d finished dinner, if Conley would like dessert. “There’s ice cream and pie.”

  “Apple pie?” Conley asked hopefully.

  “Yep.”

  “Then pie with ice cream on top.”

  “You got it.”

  Conley volunteered to clean-up while Brian fixed dessert, and then they took it into the living room to eat when Brian suggested they watch one of the movies Alistair had owned.

  * * * *

  Conley had felt guilty when he’d lied to Brian about how he’d met Alistair. Not that he’d had much choice. It was much too soon to tell him the true story. Now, he covertly watched Brian, certain he was too engrossed in the movie to be aware of what he was doing.

  He’s not particularly handsome, but when he smiles it lights up his face. He’s warming up to me, too, I think. You don’t ask the hired help to eat dinner with you. At least not in my experience.

  “Watch the movie. It’s more interesting,” Brian said, chuckling.

  “Caught me. I was trying to figure out what it is about you that reminds me of Alistair. I think it’s the eyes. His were dark, too. His hair was lighter, though. More medium to dark brown, not black like yours.”

  “Did you get your red hair from one of your parents?”

  “I did. From my dad. He was a mix of Irish and Scottish,” Conley replied, lying through his teeth—again.

  “I guess I should have known, from your last name,” Brian said before returning his attention to the movie.

  I wish I didn’t have to lie to him. But needs must…Conley sighed to himself and got back to the movie, but he couldn’t help glancing at Brian on and off. He’s just a man, he cautioned. Nothing special other than the fact he’s Alistair’s grandson and for whatever reason Alistair felt he was the man I need. The problem is, it takes two, and Brian might not see it that way. Time will tell, I guess.

  Chapter 4

  A month passed, during which Brian and Conley cemented their friendship. Brian made it a practice to cook dinner for them on his days off. He discovered making vegetarian meals wasn’t as hard as he’d expected, and they were pretty good as well, with the right spices. Conley continued working on Alistair’s library—but slowly. Once he finished there would be no reason for him to be at the house except to take care of the yard and spend time with Sir Kenith.

  By then it was late August and the weather was hot and dry. Brian decided rather than stay home on his day off he wanted to go swimming at the outdoor pool in a park not too far from the house.

  “Now if I can convince Conley to come with me…” Taking out his phone, he called him. “Do you like to swim?” he asked when Conley answered.

  “It’s been a while since I have, but yeah, I do. Why?”

  “Grab your swim suit before you come over here. I’ll make us a picnic lunch. It’s my day off and I’m making you take one, too.”

  Conley laughed. “Works for me. It’s nine, would ten be too early?”

  “Good question. Let me check.” Brian put him on hold before searching for the pool’s hours. “Ugh,” he said when he got back to Conley. “They don’t open until noon.”

  “Is there somewhere nearby where we can hang-out?”

  “It’s in a park, so I guess?”

  “Good. I’ll pick you up around eleven.”

  “We can walk. It’s not that far from the house,” Brian replied.

  “Okay. I’ll be there at ten-thirty.”

  After they’d hung up, Brian quickly did his usual Monday chores—dusting and vacuuming—and fed Sir K. As soon as he’d finished he made sandwiches for their picnic by stuffing pita bread with tomatoes, lettuce, pepper jack cheese, and red bell peppers, putting them and bottles of fruit juice, along with towels for swimming, in his small backpack. With that done, he went upstairs to change into his swim trunks and then examined the results in the bedroom mirror.

  “Anyone who sees me will know the sun and I aren’t on speaking terms,” he grumbled. His arms and face were tan. The rest of him was a pasty white. He quickly went into the bathroom to check under the sink. He thought he remembered seeing a tube of sunscreen there. “Yes!” He grabbed it, checked the expiration date, and since it was still good he put it on his dresser while he got dressed in cut-offs and a T-shirt.

  When he was downstairs, he put the sunscreen in his pack, and on impulse got a drawing pad and some pencils which he put in the pack’s front pocket. By then it was almost ten-thirty. He paced the living room, suddenly nervous as he waited for Conley to arrive.

  I’m being stupid. There’s nothing to be nervous about. We’re friends, aren’t we, and it’s not like a date. It’s two guys spending the afternoon at the pool.

  He’d finally convinced himself of that when he heard the front door open and Conley call out, “I’m here.”

  “Be right there.” Brian slung the backpack over his shoulder before joining him. He resisted gulping when he saw Conley. Although they were both dressed in shorts, Conley had on a tank top which accented his muscular arms and chest.

  I look like a wimp next to him. Not that it matters, I guess. It’s not like anyone will look at us and wonder why he hooked up with me when he could have any guy he wanted. If he was gay, that is, and there’s nothing that says he is. The truth and he knew it. Conley had never given any indication he might be interested in men. Of course he hasn’t talked about any women in his life, either, any more than I have. We’ve never shared that kind of personal information. Maybe because I was afraid to? Afraid if I told him I’m gay he might decide to go back to working on Grandpa’s library when I’m at work so he doesn’t have to be around me? No, he’s not like that—I don’t think.

  “How far are we going?” Conley asked, breaking into Brian’s musings.

  Brian waggled his hand. “Ten blocks, give or take.”

  “A walk in the park,” Conley replied, grinning.

  Brian laughed. “We can do that when we get there.”

  “Which won’t happen if we don’t get moving.” Conley took his wallet out, setting it on the table by the front door after putting a few dollars and his keys in his pocket. Figuring it was a smart idea, Brian did the same and they took off. He wasn’t worried about what was in the backpack. If someone boosted it while they were swimming he wouldn’t lose anything worth worrying about.

  Ten minutes later, Conley grumbled, “Who ordered this weather? I’m about to melt.”

  “Not me, that’s for sure,” Brian replied. “We’ll feel better once we’re at the park and in the water.”

  “Us and half the other people in the city.”

  “Probably,” Brian agreed.

  Conley had called it right, it seemed. Despite being a Monday, the park was fairly full—mothers with kids, groups of friends, and couples, all seeking relief from the heat while they waited for the pool to open. Brian and Conley managed to find a place to sit and eat under one of the trees.

  “Smart,” Conley said when Brian handed him a bottle of fruit juice. “If this had been a soda, it probably would have spewed all over me when I opened it.”

  “Then you’d have made a mad dash to the pool, even though it’s not open yet.”

  “Maybe?” Conley laughed, drinking half the juice in one long swallow before starting on his pita sandwich.

  As they ate, they people-watched, making comments on some of the more entertaining ones.

  “Now they have the right idea,” Conley said, gesturing to two men who had brought their own beach umbrella. It was stuck in the ground and they were lying half under it, one man’s head on his companions shoulder. “I bet they do this every chance they get.”

  “Because they knew to bring the umbrella?”

  “That, too, but look at them. They’re obviously a couple. Right? They want to go swimming and damned if they’re not going to, no matter what. But, they also know they’re safe here. No one’s going to hassle them. Ergo, this is their go-to place.”

  Brian nodded, wondering if Conley was right. “Are people looking at us and thinking the same thing? That we’re gay?”

  “Perhaps, although we’re not cozied up the way they are.”

  Flashing back to what he’d been thinking earlier, Brian asked, “Would it bother you if they did?”

  Conley looked at him, smiling. “Why would it? I know you’re gay. Alistair told me. So am I. So while we’re not a couple, they’d still be half right.”

  “He knew I am? You are?”

  Grinning, Conley replied, “He found out everything he could about you, Brian, so yeah, he knew. And yes, I am too.”

  “Why haven’t you said something?”

  “I guess it never came up. If you’d have asked, I would have.”

  “I wonder…” Brian looked away, staring off into space.

  “If he decided to play matchmaker? I doubt it. We were friends and I worked for him, but my sexuality never came up.”

  “So he didn’t know.”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay.”

  * * * *

  Another lie in the string of them I’ve told him. A small one, but still…

  Conley glanced toward the pool. “We might want to finish eating and get moving. People are already getting in line.”

  They did, and when they were inside the gate they found a spot next to the fence to spread out the towels Brian had packed.

  “Last one in,” Brian said, stripping off his shorts and T-shirt, which left him in only his swim trunks.

  Conley eyed him with interest. Brian’s shirt had been large on him, as they usually were, Conley had noticed in the past. If he was trying to hide his chest, he shouldn’t have. He’s got nothing to be ashamed of. Sure, he’s no muscle builder, but there’s not an ounce of flab, either.

  “Are you going to stand there, staring?” Brian asked, sounding disconcerted.

  “Nope.” Conley stripped down to his trunks. “I hope you thought about sunscreen because I didn’t and you’re going to need it.”

  “I found some at the house. I hope it means it when it says it’s waterproof,” Brain replied, taking a tube from the backpack. He started slathering it on until everything he could reach was covered. “Could you…? Would you mind?”

  “Your back. You bet. Turn around.” Conley took the tube when Brian handed it to him, squeezed some into his hands, and set to work. At first, Brian tensed when he touched him. “I’m putting on sunscreen, not trying to seduce you,” Conley said, chuckling.

  “I know that,” Brian muttered, visibly relaxing.

  For a brief second Conley considered replying, “Not that I wouldn’t like to.” The truth, he realized. Much too soon, though. He isn’t close to being interested in me that way, I don’t think. Of course until a few minutes ago he didn’t know I might reciprocate if he is. When he was finished, he said, “Not to pull a Sir Kenith on you, but the last one in…”

  Brian obviously got the joke because he laughed as he made a dash for the pool, with Conley right on his heels.

  * * * *

  Brian got to the edge of the pool, sat, and slid in. He would have dived if there weren’t half a dozen kids bobbing about. The last thing he wanted to do was take the chance they’d be right under him when he landed. Conley must have been of the same mind, because he sat and slid off the edge into the warm water as well. For a while they swam side-by-side as much as possible. Feeling playful, Brian went under, grabbed Conley’s ankle, and pulled him down. Conley got free and shot to the surface sputtering water.

  “Bri, you’re asking for it,” he said when Brian came up beside him. “Turnabout and all that.”

  Seconds later Conley dove down, gripped Brian’s ankle and before Brian could react his head was under water. Then Conley wrapped his arms around Brian’s waist, taking them back to the surface. They hovered there, kicking their feet to stay afloat. Conley’s eyes were glittering with amusement. Then they darkened and for a moment Brian thought he was going to kiss him. Instead, Conley pushed him away and took off across the pool.

  What the hell?

  He went after Conley, catching up with him moments after he’d climbed out of the pool. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about,” Brian asked.

  * * * *

  “The games?” Conley replied, smiling innocently. “Just having fun. You paid me back and…” He shrugged.

  “No. After that. I thought…Never mind.” Brian quickly headed back to where they’d left their things.

  He thought I was going to kiss him—and he was right. I almost did until I came to my senses. Now how do I explain that to him, or should I ignore it and hope he decides he misread what he saw.

  By the time he reached him, Brian had dried off and was putting on his shorts. He handed Conley a towel without looking at him.