Loose Ends

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Did Ivan Ramsey even know who he’d been talking to on the phone? No, of course he didn’t. Why would he? Just because Tucker hadn’t been able to get the young man out of his head since that day almost two weeks ago when Jaydin had his surgery, didn’t mean that Ivan would give Tucker a second thought. And with all that had happened to that family in recent days, thoughts of a semi-closeted, divorced, gay cop would be the furthest thing from Ivan’s mind.

If only Tucker could put Ivan out of his own mind. For whatever reason, he found himself thinking about the young man frequently. Well, to be fair, he was supposed to be thinking about him. Tucker’s job was to solve the mystery of Ivan’s mother’s death. Tucker needed to remain focused on not only Ivan, but the entire family. He needed to find a link, if there was one, to the murderer. Either one of the family members themselves or someone they associated with was likely responsible.

Though in theory it was possible a stranger had burglarized the home, killed Mrs. Ramsey, then torched the place, it was unlikely. Most cases like this proved to be inside jobs. The key to piecing the puzzle together was to learn as much as possible from every individual associated with the victim, then follow the right leads.

Without even talking directly with Ivan, Tucker had all but eliminated him as a suspect. Everything about his demeanor, according to the accounts by family and friends of his reaction to his mother’s death, told Tucker that Ivan had been floored by his mother’s unexpected passing. Even his defensiveness on the phone, his natural tendency to protect and defend his family, suggested he harbored intense familial loyalty. Yes, he’d argued with his mother the day before her murder, but the very nature of that conversation indicated how close they were and that he wanted to maintain this relationship with his mom. He’d opened up to her, told her he was gay. If the conversation hadn’t gone well, as apparently it hadn’t, Ivan would not likely strike out with vengeance. He’d likely retreat. He’d probably pull away from her to allow her time but never completely give up on gaining her acceptance and understanding.

Was this really the case, or was Tucker projecting? He remembered how difficult it had been to come out to his own family. Fortunately, both his folks were amazingly supportive. They didn’t live nearby, but they’d been thrilled when Tucker got engaged, and they’d been involved long-distance in the life of their grandchild. In spite of all she’d been through with Tucker, his mom told him that his coming out of the closet was not nearly as big a shock to her as he’d expected it to be. Frankly, she said, she’d been more surprised by his engagement to Janelle. Not because she was Black, but because she was female.

It didn’t at first make a whole lot of sense to Tucker. He wasn’t exactly the gay stereotype. He didn’t listen to a lot of show tunes or gesture with campy hand movements and wrist flops. He’d never had any desire to dress in drag, hated shopping, and knew nothing about interior decorating. He was in every way the cliché “straight-acting” gay dude. So how had his mother known about him? She said it was an intuition, something she’d just always sensed.

Apparently all mothers did not possess this sixth sense when it came to picking up on their child’s s****l orientation. Maybe it was a gift only bestowed on some mothers, or maybe it was a characteristic that many parents chose to ignore. It didn’t seem as predominant among fathers as it was with mothers, but this came as no surprise. Women overall were more in touch with their emotions. They could pick up on signals unspoken that men often overlooked. Hopefully Tucker would learn to open himself up enough to tap into this sort of empathy when it came to his son. No matter what Jaydin’s s****l orientation or gender identity was, he wanted to support his child a hundred percent.

When the dispatcher at the front desk dialed him at his cubicle, Tucker took a deep breath and steeled himself for the interview. He rose from his chair and made his way down the hallway to greet Ivan Ramsey. As he stepped around the partition and locked his gaze upon Ivan’s face, Tucker was taken aback momentarily. The vibrant blue in Ivan’s eyes seemed to penetrate Tucker’s soul, and as Ivan stood there defiantly, his air of confidence ignited something within Tucker. An inexplicable thrill coursed through Tucker’s frame, tingling down his limbs, and he thought for a second he was going to pop a boner judging from the tightness in his pants. But he took another deep breath and cleared his throat, ignoring the natural reactions of his body. He had a job to do, and that’s all there was to it.

“Ivan, I’m Detective Brown.”

Ivan’s eyes opened wider and the corners of his mouth curled up just a bit into what seemed like a smirk. “You’re Jaydin’s dad. I remember you. You were late for your son’s surgery.”

“Guilty.” Tucker nodded. “To be honest, I was late because I’d gotten called to the fire. I’m sorry I didn’t realize at the time…”

“Yeah, me too.”

“You want to come back to a conference room? We can talk about this a little more easily there…in private.”

“So you can record me without me knowing? Have someone watch me through two-way glass?”

Tucker smiled. “Nothing as formal as all that. I’m just gathering information at this point. I want you to know, we’re on the same team here. We want to find the responsible party, right?”

“I’m not on any team.” Ivan tightened his jaw and squared his shoulders. “Well, let’s go then.”

Tucker led the way back down the hall to a small conference room. There were, in fact, cameras mounted in each corner of the tiny room. Tucker quickly pointed them out, explaining they were surveillance cameras. “We can go to a different location, if you’re more comfortable. We can go over to the diner or outside…”

“No, this is fine.” Ivan took a seat at the folding table. “I don’t have anything to hide. Go on, ask your questions.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“Well, apparently you’re already aware that the cause of your mother’s death wasn’t related to the fire.”

“I just found out from my dad. Moments ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ivan scowled. “Who would do something like this?”

“Do you know of anyone who was unhappy with your mother? Did she have any enemies you were aware of?”

“Enemies?” Ivan laughed sardonically. “You can’t be serious. My mom’s been a member of women’s church guild for the past two decades. She organized the bake sales for the missionary fund, taught Sunday School, and volunteered for Vacation Bible School every summer. And it wasn’t just the church she was involved in. She was a Cub Scout den mother when Brandon and I were young. She used to be on the PTA. She’s sponsored every imaginable charitable event from the Alzheimer’s walk to the Breast Cancer Relay for Life. No, she didn’t have enemies! Everyone loved my mom. Everyone!”

“Did you ever see her become angry or get into an argument with anyone?” Tucker kept his tone even, unfazed by Ivan’s emotion.

“She was a human being, ya know.” The timbre in Ivan’s voice rose slightly. “Of course she got angry. But no, I don’t remember her arguing with anyone. She didn’t even argue with my dad. That just wasn’t her. She was all about…” he sighed.

“About what?”

“She was concerned a lot about appearances. She would never make a scene. Never. So no, she didn’t have enemies.”

“Anyone you know of who disliked her? Falsely accused her? Threatened her?”

“No! No, don’t you think I’d have reported that already?”

“Ivan, do you own any handguns?”

Ivan stared at him a moment, his mouth opening slightly. His eyes grew wide with an incredulous stare. “Are you serious? You’re asking me if I own a gun? What the hell? Do you think…?”

“I don’t think anything. I’m asking because I have to ask everyone. Ivan, do you own a handgun?”

“No, I don’t own a f*****g handgun! I don’t own any guns.”

“What about your family?”

“Well, ya know, I’d think you’d already have that figured out. There was a fire and everything was burnt, the place utterly gutted. I’m sure you already know my dad had a gun cabinet with guns in it. What kind, I have no idea. I’ve never been into guns.”

“So your father owns guns. What about your brother, Brandon?”

“Brandon didn’t kill our mother, and neither did my dad!”

“Do you know if Brandon owns a handgun?”

“I don’t know! Maybe…probably. Our whole family…we were raised to believe in the Second Amendment. It’s not a crime to own a gun. That doesn’t make a person a murderer.”

Tucker reached down and removed his holster, placing his weapon beside him on the table. “I’m a believer in the Second Amendment myself. Ivan, please relax. This isn’t an inquisition.”

“You could’ve fooled me. It sure feels like one!” His eyes were becoming moist. Damn, Tucker hadn’t wanted to reduce him to tears.

“Let’s change the subject, okay? Tell me about you. I know you’re a nurse at St. Joe’s.”

Ivan reached up to rub his eyes with each index finger, then looked at Tucker. “I guess I’m going to have to tell you something about myself, something that’s none of your business, but I know you’re going to find out anyway…if you haven’t already.”

Tucker leaned back, resting his forearms on his chair’s armrests. He raised his eyebrows.

“My mom and I had words the day before she died, not exactly an argument. More of a disagreement.”

“Okay.”

“See…” He took a deep breath. “She was always a person of faith, deeply religious. And it concerned her when Brandon and I didn’t live our lives the way she thought we should—the way she thought God would want us to.”

“So she was unhappy about a lifestyle choice you’ve made.”

If looks could kill, Tucker would’ve been dead. “No, it’s not a choice!” The way Ivan’s face scrunched all up when he scowled almost made Tucker burst out laughing. “I mean, what we talked about. It wasn’t anything about my choices…well, not really.”

“You don’t have to tell me all this.” Tucker leaned forward. “I want to find out who killed your mother, Ivan. I don’t think you did it, but I think you can be a big help to us in this investigation.”

“W-wait. If you don’t think someone in my family is guilty, then what’s the point of this questioning?”

“I haven’t been able to officially rule anyone out as a suspect. I’m just being straight with you. In my professional opinion, you don’t fit the profile. You have no motive. You have no weapon.”

“Well, you already established there were weapons in the house. I could have used one of them.”

Tucker couldn’t help himself. He smiled as Ivan sat across from him glaring petulantly. “Well, I suppose…”

“Has anyone ever told you that you come across as a smug asshole?” Ivan crossed his arms over his chest again.

Tucker shrugged. “My ex-wife a few times.”

“You should listen to her. She seems like a brilliant woman. Look, since I’m not a suspect, mind if I leave?”

“Ivan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Tucker rose from his chair as Ivan shot up and spun around to face the exit. He stepped to the door, then turned his head in Tucker’s direction. “Call me when you have some actual information…or if you have a real question for me. And for God’s sake, please quit wasting time harassing me and my family. There’s a killer on the loose somewhere.”

He didn’t wait for Tucker to respond, but pulled open the door and stormed down the hall.

Tucker made no attempt to stop him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ivan’s dad had been staying with Brandon and Jessica since the fire but had finally decided he needed to get away for a while. Ivan’s parents had purchased a timeshare in Florida where they vacationed every winter for two weeks. David offered to take Ivan with him, but Ivan hadn’t yet accrued enough vacation time. Plus, he needed to immerse himself in work. He loved his job, and as painful as his mother’s passing had been, he had to go on with his life. She’d have wanted him to do exactly that. She’d have insisted.

Now on day shift, he’d just completed his three day stretch of twelve-hour shifts. Well, they called them twelve-hour shifts, but in reality they were usually thirteen or fourteen hours. It was now Friday evening and he had the next two days off. He’d promised himself he’d do something that wasn’t depressing. He’d shed enough tears, spent hours looking through family photos on f*******: and Shutterly, remembering his mom. Although all her family pictures had been lost in the fire, she had painstakingly and fastidiously scanned and uploaded all the old print pictures, preserving them in digital format. He and Brandon had teased her at the time. Nobody does that, Mom. But she had.

Carrie had suggested he come over for a movie night on Saturday and he probably would. She had a little girl whom Ivan adored, and Carrie’s husband was about the least homophobic straight guy Ivan had ever known. Well, other than Brandon maybe.

He’d known Carrie since college. They went through the nursing program together and had been best friends ever since. She remained the one person in whom he was comfortable enough to confide anything. She’d known he was gay before he started coming out to any of his other friends or family. And she’d been there for him when Liam had dumped him, or when he’d dumped Liam. However you chose to look at it.

God, how had he gotten involved with a guy like Liam in the first place? The two were polar opposites. Liam majored in political science and was a conservative. He viewed everything in terms of the bottom line, in black and white. s*x was s*x, and it shouldn’t be confused with emotion or intimacy. Liam didn’t cuddle. He wasn’t the type who spoke terms of endearment. And he wasn’t even a baby step out of the closet.

In many ways, Liam’s core values had mirrored Ivan’s mother’s. He too concerned himself with appearances, though if you were to point this out to him, he’d vehemently deny it. He said he didn’t give a s**t what other people thought of him and projected a cocky air of self-confidence, yet Ivan always suspected it to be a veneer. If anything, Liam had been terrified of other people judging him.

Their politics didn’t mesh, but so what? Ivan’s parents had been rock rib Republicans his entire life, and that really didn’t bother him. Had Liam been one of those Log Cabin members, they might have had their disagreements, but at least Ivan would’ve been able to respect the principles on which Liam stood. Instead, Liam was very open about his conservative political views, but he kept his s****l orientation a deep, dark secret.

In private, Liam made the argument to Ivan that his personal life was no one else’s business. He did not feel the need to flaunt being gay, to “shove it down anyone’s throat.” You had no problem shoving it down mine last night. But Ivan generally didn’t waste his breath arguing. He’d hoped that in time Liam would evolve. Eventually he’d begin to come out of the closet and allow Ivan to share all of his life as his partner and not just his “roommate.”

But that day never came. The spring of their senior year Liam announced he’d taken a job in D.C, an offer he couldn’t refuse. But when Ivan offered to apply for some positions in Washington and Maryland, Liam brushed him off. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Ivan, standing at the bathroom sink in their dorm room, turned and stared at him, astonished. “What do you mean? How are we going to…?”

“I think we should maybe think about seeing other people.” Liam sat on his bed, computer in his lap, and didn’t even bother to look up at Ivan.

“What?”

“I mean, well…” He finally raised his head to glance over at Ivan. “You know I’m going to have to get married someday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. But I guess you mean to someone other than me?”

“I mean really married. To a woman. If for no other reason than for my career. There might be a way we can still see each other on the side, though. Maybe we could figure something out.”

Ivan stood there, paralyzed, and his jaw nearly hit the floor. “Liam, hasn’t the past two and a half years meant anything to you?”

Liam sighed, then looked back at his laptop monitor. “Let’s not talk about it now. We’ll work it out.”

Ivan worked it out for them. He packed up and moved out. He moved back to his parents and commuted for his finals. He then landed the job at St. Joseph’s which was where he’d been interning. He hadn’t seen or heard from Liam since graduation. He worked for some high-powered Senator now.

Since then, Ivan hadn’t gotten serious with any guy. He’d barely dated. His bizarre work schedule didn’t help, but beside that, he wasn’t ready to have his heart shattered again. The worst thing about his disastrous relationship with Liam was that he hadn’t really even been able to talk to anyone about it. Only a handful of friends from school knew about them. But he wasn’t in school anymore, and he hadn’t come out to his family yet. Thankfully, he’d had Carrie.

As he pulled his vehicle into his carport, Ivan cursed himself for not stopping somewhere for takeout. He had nothing in the fridge. Maybe he’d order delivery. Or maybe he could call Dustin, his one gay friend. If Dustin didn’t have a show tonight, he might want to catch a bite with Ivan and head over to Extasy afterward for a couple drinks.

Dustin, aka Miss Dusty, lived in Ivan’s apartment building. He…or she…did drag and was the most glamorous and hilarious drag queen Ivan had ever known. Well, to be honest, she was the only drag queen he knew personally. They had no romantic connection but had become close over the previous two years since Dustin moved in.

As Ivan stepped out of his car and closed the door behind him, he fished his cell phone from his scrub pocket. But before he could ring Dustin, he heard his name. He spun around to face the very friend he was about to dial.

“Hey, man, I was just about to call you.”

“Doll, you have a long day?” Dustin walked briskly across the concrete, sashaying with heels clicking all the way, and placed his hand on Ivan’s shoulder.

“All my days are long.” Ivan smiled and sighed. “And I’m starving. Want to go grab dinner? My treat.”

Dustin raised his hand to his chest, barely touching the cleft of his pectorals with his fingertips. “It must be fate. The gods have destined us to dine together because I was just on my way to get Chinese takeout.”

“Have you ordered already?”

He shook his head. “Oh no, I never call ahead. I like to wait there and flirt with the cute Asian guy at the counter. Sum yung hung guy.”

“Figures.” Ivan smiled. “Let me get changed real quick. Come on, you can have a drink while you wait.”

“Sugar, I can help you change. Won’t take me but a second to get you out of those scrubs. Unless,” he raised a finger to his chin as if thinking. “Unless you want to just keep them on and give me an examination.” He winked.

“I’m too hungry to think about c**k right now. Come on.” He took a step down the sidewalk and motioned for Dustin to follow.

Dustin’s bottom lip protruded slightly. “All I get from you is rejection.”

“And free food.”

“That too.” He smiled and skipped to catch up. “You must really be hungry!”