Running

Julesmonster

Part 1



For two years after he left for New York Justin called Brian at least once a day. For two years, he came back for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, the 4th of July and pretty much any other long weekend he could get away from work.  For two years, despite the fact that they were hundreds of miles apart and fucked whoever they wanted, Brian felt like he still had Justin.



And then everything changed overnight.



Brian could still remember the last thing Justin said to him.  They had been teasing back and forth about who could pull more tricks in a day.  Justin had scoffed at Brian’s assumption that he would win and had challenged him to prove it.  They would each have twenty-four hours to pull as many men as they could.  Just before they hung up, Justin stopped and whispered, “You know, no matter how many men there are, they’ll never compare to you.  It’ll always be you.”



“I know that, Sunshine,” Brian had said lightly.  “I am the best.”



Justin had chuckled and they hung up with their usual, “Later.”  But now, Brian wondered why he hadn’t told Justin how he really felt.  Why couldn’t he say that Justin would always be the only man he could ever love?  It was true and they both knew it, but Justin needed to hear it sometimes.  That was a lesson he thought he had learned.  But apparently not.  And now…



When Justin didn’t call him the next night at the end of the designated bet and didn’t answer Brian’s call, he brushed it off.  When he hadn’t called the next day or the next and he still wasn’t answering his phone, Brian began to worry.  He started calling Justin and leaving voicemail every couple hours.  But Justin never answered.  He blew up Justin’s email inbox with messages but got no response.  Three days of that and Brian was frantic with worry.  He called Jennifer to see if she had heard from Justin.  She hadn’t.  He called Debbie and Lindsey and every person he knew Justin kept in contact with on a regular basis.  None had heard from him.  He called the gallery where Justin’s art showed and where he worked part time and was told that he’d quit a week ago, but his paintings were still selling.  A week ago…that was before their last conversation, but Justin hadn’t told him.  In fact he had said work was fine when Brian asked.



Brian sat down and tried to think it all through.  Justin had quit his part-time job.  That wasn’t so shocking.  He’d been making enough from his art to live for six months or more, but he liked getting out and talking to people.  He said it helped him paint.  So why would he quit?  And why wouldn’t he tell Brian?  Unless, whatever happened, whatever reason he wasn’t returning Brian’s phone calls, was something he planned and hadn’t wanted to tell Brian.  In that case, those last words seemed even more important.



Brian stopped trying to piece it together.  He didn’t have enough information to form any reasonable answers.  Besides, he was a man of action.  He packed a bag and was on the next plane to New York, despite Cynthia’s protests.



Justin’s roommate answered the door and said, “You’re Brian, right?’



He grabbed an envelope from a table by the door.  “He asked me to give this to you.  Seemed pretty sure you’d show up.  I guess he was right.”



Brian looked at the plain manila envelope with his name on it and hesitated to take it.  He knew that he wasn’t going to like what he found in there.  But what real choice did he have?  He took the envelope.  “How long ago did he leave?”



“A week ago,” the guy said.  “I’m sorry I don’t know more to tell you.  He didn’t leave a forwarding address.”



Brian nodded numbly and tucked the envelope into his bag and walking back to the street in a daze.  Justin was gone, and he had done this to Brian purposefully.  He had left him.  Not left him, as in he moved to another state while they still maintained a relationship, but left him as in never see each other again.  He had planned it out and not said a word to Brian, maintaining to the end that he loved Brian, and now he was gone.  That just wasn’t acceptable.



He went to the gallery next.  They repeated what they had told him on the phone.  Justin didn’t leave any contact information.  Then the manager came over and added that Justin said he would arrange to have the next set of pictures shipped.  That was new information.  It at least told him that Justin wasn’t in New York any more.  But it didn’t tell him why he left or where he went.



Without any more leads to follow, Brian went home.  But he wasn’t giving up.  He hired a detective to carry on the search.



His conversation with the detective brought home the fact that he really knew very little about the life Justin led in New York.  He knew where he worked and where he lived, but he didn’t know who his friends were.  He didn’t know where he liked to go out dancing. He didn’t know what he did when he wasn’t painting or at the gallery.  He didn’t know if Justin had gotten into harder drugs or had fallen in with another Pink Posse.  Those thoughts only made Brian worry more as all sorts of horrific scenarios played through his mind.



The only relief to his anxiety came when Jennifer called him a few days later to tell him that Justin had called.  Justin was alive and well, but he wouldn’t even tell Jennifer where he was or why he left.  He was simply calling to let her know he was alright and keep her from worrying too much.  She thought maybe Brian might need the same assurance, so she had called.



That set up the pattern for the following months.  He’d work himself into the ground trying to keep busy and keep from obsessing over Justin’s disappearance.  Some days he’d be consumed with worry.  Some days the guilt would take over.  The worst days were the ones when he was overflowing with anger towards his wayward lover.  Those were the days even Cynthia avoided him.  Then Justin would call Jennifer and Jennifer would call Brian and he’d be okay for a day or two and the cycle would start all over again.



Brian tried to convince Carl to trace the weekly call, but he refused… something about right to privacy or some such bullshit.  Brian got Debbie on his side, though, and he thought that it might only be a matter of time before the semi-retired policeman caved to his bride.



For two years, Brian had gone along with his life, believing that someday Justin would come home and they would take up where they left off, maybe even get married.  But now Brian wasn’t sure of anything…except that he wanted Justin to come home.



BJBJBJBJBJ



“You should at least call him, Honey,” Jennifer scolded her son.  She had given up trying to convince him to come home.  Now she would settle for getting him to talk to Brian.  “He’s a wreck, Justin.  This isn’t fair to him.  You say you love him, but you don’t shut out the people you love.”



“I have to,” Justin said, and Jennifer could hear the tears in his voice.  “I don’t have any choice.  At least not right now.  Maybe… someday.  I left a letter explaining as much as I could for him.  That has to be enough for now.”



Jennifer gave a frustrated growl.  “It isn’t enough and it never will be!  You’re destroying him, Justin.  He’s lost weight.  He doesn’t sleep.  He’s swings from angry to depressed to anxious on a daily basis.  You have to do something!”



“It’s killing me too,” Justin said angrily.  “I don’t like this any more than you or Brian, but I don’t have a choice.”



“Justin…”



“I have to go,” Justin said coolly.



“I’m sorry,” Jennifer told him.



Justin sighed and relented.  “Me too.  I’ll call next week.  I love you.  And tell Brian…”



“I’ll tell him you love him,” Jennifer said.  “Because it’s the truth.”



“Yeah.”



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Jack Waters walked into Kinnetik without an appointment, but when the receptionist called back to Mr. Kinney’s office, his assistant had directed her to Mr. Kinney, who had told he would be out to escort the man himself.  Whoever this guy was, Jenna figured he must be important.  He didn’t look very important, though.  He was scruffy.  He was unshaven and wearing wrinkled clothes that had seen better days.  He was wearing a button-down shirt unbuttoned over a green t-shirt, jeans, and running shoes.  His one concession to the fact that he was entering a respectable business was the sports coat he had thrown on over everything.



“Jack?”  That was Mr. Kinney.  Jenna sat up straighter and watched as he led the scruffy man away.



BJBJBJBJBJ



Brian was anxious to hear what Waters had to tell him. The detective had called two nights before saying the he thought he might have a lead.  Brian had been anxious since then, waiting for news.



“I think I might have found him,” Waters said once they were in Brian’s office with the door shut.  “There is a Justin Taylor in Mercer, Vermont.”



“Vermont?” Brian asked.  “What the hell would he be doing up there?”



“If it’s the right guy, he’s involved in a custody case over two minors,” Waters told him.  “Alexander and Robert Anderson.  Their mother and adopted father were killed in a car accident about six months ago, not long before your boy disappeared.  The case is between the biological father and the adopted father’s parents.”



Brian shook his head.  “No, that can’t be the right Justin Taylor.  Justin doesn’t have kids.”



Waters nodded.  “You could be right.  It might not be him.  But he is an artist.  And I was able to trace the shipments made to the gallery in New York to a UPS store in Bristol Vermont.  That’s two towns over, but the closest UPS store to Mercer.”



Brain sat back in his chair and let his brain work.  It seemed like it was spinning, but suddenly all the pieces began to fall into place.  “The mother… her name was Daphne, wasn’t it?”



Waters looked at the little note pad he carried with him everywhere.  “That’s right.  Daphne Anderson, maiden name Chanders.”



“Oh fuck,” Brian said.  On the one hand he knew that he had finally found Justin.  On the other, Daphne was dead and Justin was fighting for custody of her children—who were apparently his children as well.  No wonder he’d run to Vermont.  But why was he hiding from Brian?



“Okay, I’m going to need as many details about this custody case as you can get, including who Justin’s lawyer is and what sort of background he has,” Brian said.  “I also need Justin’s address.  It looks like I’m going to Vermont.”



BJBJBJBJBJ



Brian wondered just what the hell his Sunshine had been thinking.  He was driving through back country roads in a rental car on his way to the house Justin was renting in Mercer.  From the information that Waters had given him before he left Pittsburgh, he knew that Justin and the Andersons had been granted shared custody of the twin boys for six months, after which, the case would be reopened for further examination.  What they were examining, Brian had no clue.  As far as Brian was concerned, if both guardians were dead, then custody should go to the biological father unless he was unfit.  And no one in their right minds could believe that Justin was unfit.



He also learned that Justin’s lawyer was one of two in the small back-woods county.  If there was some local conspiracy going on, it was likely that he would side with the Andersons.  Which was why Brian had hired one of the best lawyers in the state of Vermont to handle the case.  He just had to convince Justin to meet with him.



Brian drove through Mercer and realized just how small this town was.  There were two stop lights and a single street making up the downtown.  There were several side streets with houses, but not much else.  There wasn’t even a grocery store.  It wasn’t hard to find Justin’s house with so few streets to get lost on and soon Brian was pulling into the drive behind a minivan that had obviously been bought used.



“Shit, Sunshine,” Brian muttered, deeply offended by the vehicle.  “What have you let them do to you?”



The house itself wasn’t so bad.  It was a small colonial house painted cream with blue trim and shutters that looked like they actually worked.  The house was a little rundown but it was obvious that Justin took care of it.  There were flowers in the flowerbeds.  There was a small play area in the side yard and a patio with several plastic chairs scattered around.  Brian could imagine Justin out here playing with two little boys.



Brian shook off those thoughts and went to the front door.  Two quick raps on the door and he waited, his heart beating faster than he had thought possible.   And then the door swung open and there he was.



“Justin.”