This is a work of gay-themed romantic fantasy. If you are not interested in reading a story which may contain explicit sexual content or if such content is illegal in your locale then please--back out now!
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Thank you for reading the continuing adventures of The Detective and the Druid. As always, questions, comments, suggestions and complaints are always welcome. This is my first foray into this type of writing and I am trying to home my craft with each Chapter. Drop me a line at HonableRonable@gmail.com or RonVenable@hotmail.com . Likewise, if you wish to be notified when something new is up please let me know and I'll send out a notification.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN The Grand Staircase
CHARACTERS
Ben Dover, Age 48 -- Instructor, Department of Criminal Justice, King's College
Fiona Foxworth-Cleighbourne, Age 55 -- Realtor
Glenn von Gabler, Age 37 -- Building Contractor
Caleb "Catfish" Calhoun, Age 35 -- Recovering at Seacliff Manor
Nils Gustafsen, Age 32 -- Neophyte Runic Mage
Mahesh Sahipalamahani, Age 39, ER Attending Physician
Darren "Dusty" Bottoms, Age 58 - Chief of Security, Kings College
Billy-Clyde McCorkindale, Age 29 - Campus Security
"Sign here, here and here!" Fiona Foxworth-Cleighbourne instructed Ben. "Initial where I've marked the checks and we're good to go!" The big man's mind was still boggled at the idea of spending three-quarters of a million dollars on a building that would likely require another $250,000 to make it livable but that was real estate in Kings Harbor. The Firehouse had canal access to the Pacific Ocean and Starlight Bay and the new boat lift that came with the property could handle a large craft. That alone made it a good buy; even if he didn't end up living here Ben knew he'd have no problem selling the place for a handsome profit. It didn't hurt the Firehouse was located on the edge of the hip and happening "Arts District" of Kings Harbor. Location, location, location! That's what the Realtors always said--and this house had it in spades!
"Done, done and DONE!" the Texan said, signing the last bit with a flourish.
The Realtor handed the big man her Tablet. "Now--if you'll just authorize the funds transfer to the city by tapping AGREE on the green square, I can hand you the keys!"
Ben tapped the requested key and watched $750,000 plus God knows how much more in taxes, fees and whatnot drain out of his account in a flash. It wasn't that he couldn't afford the property but had more to do with sticker shock at the expense of buying property in Coastal California. The big man took comfort in knowing the market was even crazier in San Francisco.
"Fiona tossed the big man a small key ring. "Do you know what you're going to do with the place?" she asked.
"I've got a pretty good idea...." Ben replied. "Glenn von Gabler has agreed t' be m' Contractor; Golden Gables specializes in historic renovation so it's a good fit! He was also kind enough t' hire Catfish on as a Finish Carpenter."
"I remember him," the Realtor allowed dubiously. "How is he doing?"
"He has his up n' down' days," Ben admitted. "More up' than down' since John-Thomas started workin' with im."
"That's good," agreed Fiona. "The poor man seemed so--broken when you found him! I think it's great you and your family are willing to help him--but wouldn't some place like the VA be better?"
"With all due r'spect Ma'am," Ben replied coldly, "the VA Hospital is under-staffed `n' overcrowded! I c'n say with certainty they don't have th' resources t' deal with Catfish's problems." He didn't try to explain what a place like that would do to a powerful Empath like Catfish--all that suffering in one location? It would be like having your soul boiled in acid!
"Sorry!" Fiona said, trying to sound contrite, "I guess I over-stepped!" Then she changed the subject. "Are you anxious to get into your first year as a full-time Instructor at Kings College?"
"Yes n' no..." Ben admitted. "I love teachin' but school politics r' grindin' me down! Plus--a lot of folks don't care f'r me..."
"I don't see why not!" Fiona responded. "You've always seemed perfectly charming to me--maybe a bit opinionated at times but at least you aren't nasty with it!" The woman began packing up her paperwork. "I'll get these things filed," she told the man. "And remember, if you have any further Real Estate needs, I'm your gal!"
Glenn von Gabler came clomping down the metal stairs from the second floor. "You got lucky on this one big bear!" he said. "There's no major structural issues with the place although you're gonna want to do some serious upgrading on the electrical and plumbing! I doubt this place has been touched since the 1960s!" Glenn only stood about 5'8" but he was heavily built with the musculature of a competitive body builder. His short blond hair was worn in a buzz cut and merry blue eyes shown out of his tanned face.
"I was plannin' on installin' a Power Sphere `n Water Mixer," the Texan told him. "I know I won't need it often but I want to make sure I have a good HVAC system in addition t' th' new furnace!"
"I'll have a crew ready to start work right after Labor Day!" the blond man promised. "So--have you decided what you're going to do with those roll-up doors front and back?"
"I found four wrought-iron window frames at Urban Remains," Ben replied. "I think they'll fit perfectly. Catfish said he'll make up a set o' doors f'r th' center slot. I thought I'd do French Doors along th' canal side an' big windows on th' driveway side!"
"That's going to be a lot of custom work!" the Contractor informed him.
"And it won't be cheap!" both men said together.
"I know!" Ben said with a wry smile. "If I'm gonna do this place by God I'll do it RIGHT!"
"I like the way you think big bear!" the Contractor said. "Just understand that what you want is going to cost..."
"If I couldn't handle th' price tag I'd never have started this job!" Ben assured him.
"This could be the start of a beautiful friendship!" Glenn said with a broad smile. The Texan returned the grin knowing the muscle-bound contractor would do excellent work on the property and wouldn't try to cheat him. (He was grateful to the awen for that bit of knowledge.) Ben also realized this build would be a long and complicated one; he was prepared for that. "So, will you be by Tuesday morning to help inaugurate the build?"
"Can't," the big man replied. "I have an `Intro t' Criminology' at eight AM an' Office Hours after that. I'll drop by when I can--but I'm gonna leave th' work in y'r capable hands Glenn-Bob. That's what I'm payin' y' for!"
Ben drove back to Seacliff Manor and found Catfish working in a barn he'd converted into a shop space. The Texan popped his head in to check on what the other man might be working on. Catfish had proven to be a gifted woodworker and carpenter with an artist's eye for making beautiful things. Currently he seemed to be doing something with stained glass. "I didn't know y' worked in this medium," Ben commented as he stepped inside.
"Mr. Nils taught me," the sandy-haired Veteran replied. "Your brother gave us some old gold coins to work with so Mr. Nils put strength' and protection' runes on em then we melted em into the glass. I'm going ta use `em ta make the front doors of the Firehouse!"
Ben smiled. He never tired of listening to the "mountain music" of the younger man's voice. "Gonna be a right interestin' piece!" he observed. "Ya sure th' runes won't lose their power since th' coins `r' melted into th' glass?"
"Mr. Nils says not," Catfish replied. "One of th' Laws of Magic' says once a thing is part of somethin' it stays a part of that thing'--even when that thing changes form!"
"We'll just trust Nils on that then!" the Texan replied. "He'd know better `n either of us!"
"It's the `First Law of Magic'," Nils said, coming out of the back of the barn. "The Law of Contagion says once a thing becomes part of something it stays a part of it! It doesn't matter if the thing changes form. That's why I can inscribe runes on those coins and Catfish can melt them into the glass; the runes will still be there!"
The big man just shook his head. "Too complicated f'r this dumb hick!" he observed. "So--ya came in f'r the weekend?"
The blond triathlete nodded. "Cliff invited me," he said. "I--hope that's not a problem..."
"Why sh'd it be a problem, ol' Son?" Ben wanted to know.
"You must hate me!" the younger man said. "Sometimes I still hate myself! I can't believe I let myself get sucked in to all of Orlando's lies and drama!"
"Son--folks do stupid things when they think they're in love!" the Texan told Nils. "Yes, you made some bad choices! I don't hate you for that! But I hope you're startin' t' at least TRY an' make better ones!"
"Like dating Sam?" Nils gave the older man a wry smile. "He is awfully sweet--and he truly doesn't care about my money or anything I can give him. He just likes me for me!"
"He does!" Ben agreed. "You n' Sgt. Sam ud be a good match--if ya let y'rself be..."
"I'm done with bad boys!" Nils said.
Until the next dark and dangerous charmer comes along, Ben thought. But he kept his thoughts to himself. "I'm rootin' f'r th' two o' you!" was all he said.
"How long do you think it'll take to get those doors finished Catfish?" Nils asked. "I can't wait to see them hung up and in place.
"Might be a bit," the Veteran admitted. "I want to make sure they look good as well as bein' strong! Now that I've got a full-time job with Mr. Glenn I can't work on m' own projects as much!"
"Take y'r time, ol Son," Ben said. "What I've seen so far looks beautiful!"
Kings College was situated on a large plateau with the "Old School" AKA "Upper Campus" atop the plateau and the "Lower Campus" AKA the "New School" was on the flatlands beneath. Connecting the two portions of the College was a long set of concrete stairs jokingly referred to as the "Grand Staircase" or sometimes the "Thigh Blaster." Someone, in all their wisdom, had decided that all of Ben's classes would be in the "Upper Campus" while his office had been moved to the Lower Campus. A long meandering ramp for the "differently abled" also connected the two halves but since it was almost four times the distance Ben decided just to take the stairs.
Ben had just taken his first step down when he was literally blind-sided and knocked off his feet. The big man went down in a tumble of arms and legs and he couldn't seem to stop rolling! Unconsciousness took him at some point and he found himself being grateful for that...
{{Ben! Ben! Wake up! Come on big guy--don't you dare die on me now that I just got back...}} The Texan groaned as he tried to lever himself up but found it hurt too much to move. {{Somebody called the Paramedics--they should be here shortly!}}
The big man slowly opened his eyes to the telepathic entreaties and found himself staring at a pair of honey-gold eyes that looked oddly familiar. "Sully...?" he finally managed. "Am I--dead?"
{{Not for lack of trying on the Blackshirt's part!}} came the increasingly-familiar voice in his head. {{Looks like you rolled almost three stories--most of the way down the Grand Staircase!}}
"That explains why I feel like I just got used as a tackling dummy for the Houston Texans!" the big man replied. He finally got his head turned enough so he could focus on who was beside him and was surprised to see a skinny red Mastiff laying close to his side. "Sully--is that you in there?"
{{You're smarter than you look!}} The emotion behind the words carried a good-humored chiding not malice. {{The Morrigan offered me a chance to come back to Earth so I took it! Guess I should have read the fine print... It looks like I'm going to be your personal Guardian from now on!}}
Fire and Paramedics arrived to take Ben to the ER so he could be checked out. When the Texan was loaded into the ambulance Sully jumped in as well and wouldn't leave no matter how anyone tried to coax him out. (He even went so far as to bare his teeth at one of the Paramedics who tried to remove him bodily.) "Leave im be!" Ben finally said. "He's my dog an' I'm sure this whole thing has im a might upset!" With no other choice the Paramedics finally decided to let Sully ride along and let the Hospital deal with him...
Dr. Mahesh Sahipalamahani checked his clipboard one final time. "You're going to look like you went ten rounds with Mike Tyson--minus the bitten-off ear! The good news--you have no broken bones and there is no evidence of a concussion. Do you know why you fell?"
{{A Blackshirt PUSHED him! How many times does he have to repeat that? Weren't you listening the first time--IDIOT?}}
{{Sully,}} Ben sent, {{the Doc can't hear you!}}
"Did you say a Blackshirt pushed you?" the Doctor queried. "Are you certain?"
{{Maybe he can,}} the Texan amended. {{Maybe he's just not ready for telepathic communication with a canine!}} "Doc," Ben said aloud. "I was slammed by some guy in a long-sleeve black shirt, black pants n black footwear! I'll admit I didn't get a close look. I s'pose it could have been some Goth kid who got scared an' ran but th' College doesn't have a very high percentage o' Goths an' most of em `r decent folks!"
"You should be careful about throwing accusations like that around!" the Doctor cautioned.
"Frankly, Doc, I'm s'rprised t' hear ya say that!" the big man said. "You gotta know them boys ud happily ship ya back t' India if ya so much as looked at em wrong!"
"Part of the reason I advise caution," Sahipalamahani advised. "You don't want to get on their Radar!"
"Too late!" Ben told the man. "I've been on th' `Sons' Radar since I broke up one o' their shindigs durin' Pride weekend!"
The Doctor looked at Ben with a new respect. "You were one of the Vets who stepped in to prevent the vandalism? The whole community owes you a debt of gratitude!"
"Son--I'd like t' think any decent human bein' with a speck o decency would a' done th' same thing!"
The next day Ben made his long, painful way to the offices of Campus Security. He was greeted by Darren ("call me `Dusty'") Bottoms, the Security Chief who offered the new arrival coffee and access to a box of doughnuts. "So--what brings you down here, Mr. Dover?" the Chief asked once the two men were settled.
"I came t' check on th' status o' th' investigation into m' accident," the Texan drawled. "When c'n I see a report?"
"Report?" Dusty seemed confused. "It was an accident!"
Ben gave the man a hard look. "Son--didja get y'r Security Credentials from a box o' Cracker Jacks?" he finally asked. "Assumin' it was an accident--which I assure you it was NOT--th' `higher-ups' will be wantin' some CYA! You understand CYA?"
"Cover Your Ass?" the Security Chief guessed. "I didn't think about that--but you're right! You could sue the school and they'll want to make sure they're in the clear!"
"Got it in one!" the big man agreed. He almost felt sorry for Dusty; the guy may have been an ex-Cop but years of issuing parking tickets and dealing with minor disputes had clearly softened his police instincts. Ben found himself wondering how well Dusty would do should something serious like a rape happen on his watch; maybe he'd rise to the occasion or maybe, just maybe, Dusty was part of the problem. "Do ya have Cameras coverin' th' Grand Staircase?" Ben asked.
"Of course!" Dusty replied. He was getting uncomfortable under Ben's grilling. "We tape everything 24-7! It erases after two days!"
"Maybe y' better pull the footage from yesterday b'tween 9:45 `n' 10:15 AM!"
"Yes Sir!" Ben followed Dusty into the server room where a big beefy man with brush cut brown hair was playing with his phone while cameras from all over the campus displayed live feeds. "Billy-Clyde--do we pay you to play Candy Crush ™ while you should be on duty?"
The Security Guard dropped his pone guiltily. "Sorry Sir..." he mumbled. Billy-Clyde got a look at Ben and frowned and the Texan honed in on a bracelet of wrapped burgundy, white and gold on the Guard's left hand.
"I need you to pull up the footage from the cameras on the Grand Staircase from yesterday--9:45 to 10:15 AM!"
"Sir?" Billy-Clyde was starting to sweat.
"Today!" Even Dusty was starting to notice how the Guard was reacting. "Is there a problem Billy-Clyde?"
"N-no Sir!" Billy-Clyde began tapping keys and three screens went blank.
"Is there a problem Son?" Ben's words were deceptively mild.
"Maybe the cameras are on the fritz?" the Guard suggested.
"Son--please don't lie t' me!" Bn said oh-so-politely. "Y're not very good at it an' right now y're lookin' at bein' fired--if not criminally charged! So, if the cameras ain't busted. The footage was deleted--right?"
"Dusty--please!" Billy-Clyde begged his boss. "You know I need this job! I've got a wife and two kids depending on me at home!"
"Why did you delete the footage Billy-Clyde?" Dusty may not have been the best Cop in the world but he was smart enough to know when his own job was on the line.
"I didn't!" Billy-Clyde was sweating profusely now. "I swear I didn't!"
"Son--push up y'r right sleeve--if y'd be so kind..." Again, Ben's words were deceptively mild. "I c'n see a bit of a tattoo on y'r bicep--let's have a look at it shall we?"
The Security Guard turned pleading eyes to his boss. "I don't have to show him, do I?" he asked. "I got rights!"
"Yes, you do," Dusty agreed, "but the College has rights too! "I can fire you for dereliction of duty since I caught you playing with your phone when you should have been on the job. I don't think you're smart enough to delete the record of you erasing the footage from those three cameras! If you want ANY hope of keeping your job, you'd better start cooperating! Show Mr. Dover the tattoo! I don't know why he wants to see it but I'm sure he has his reasons..."
Ben pointed at the wrapped bracelet on Billy-Clyde's right wrist. "Those are `Sons o' Purity' colors!" he told Dusty. "I c'n see a bit o' burgundy under Billy-Clyde's uniform sleeve! I s'pect if he rolls it up, we'll see a Burgundy Maltese Cross superimposed on a flamin' sun!"
"Is that your tattoo Billy-Clyde?" Dusty looked genuinely shocked and betrayed. "How long have you been involved with those nut-jobs?"
"Do I have to?" the man asked again.
"No, you don't!" the Security Chief told the sweating man, "any more than I have to keep you employed! I have you dead-to-rights on two serious infractions! Give me a reason why I shouldn't have you escorted out of here in the back of a police car!"
"What?" Billy-Clyde was finally scared. "I didn't do anything--honest!"
"It's called accessory after th' fact'!" Ben told him. "Knockin' me down them stairs is, at best, assault n' battery! A good D.A. c'd make a case f'r attempted murder. You deleted th' footage that makes you an accessory! Hell Son, I could prob'ly make a case f'r accessory b'fore th' fact as well as after! I c'd even see ya gettin' sent up f'r Conspiracy!"
"What if I could give you the footage?" the Security Guard suggested. "I copied everything before I deleted it--just in case..."
"You aren't as dumb as ya look!" Dusty actually smiled. "Hand it over!" The Guard was quick to do so. "Now," the Chief said, "I'm calling the Cops to have you arrested!"
"What--you can't do that!" Billy-Clyde was practically panicking. "I did what you asked! Why are you turning on me?"
"Believe it or not, I'm trying' to save you some grief!" Dusty told the man. "Whoever knocked Mr. Dover down those stairs will likely get arrested! If that happens the' `Sons' will know who's responsible!"
"Let's hold off on involvin' th' Cops..." Ben suggested mildly. "Billy-Clyde I'm sure you're right sorry y' got involved with those bad folks!" The Security Guard nodded his head frantically. "We'll all look at that footage; maybe one of us c'n identify who did th' deed--if th' man r'sponsible had any sense he prob'ly covered up so we couldn't get a clear image. Likewise--I'm sure he'll have plenty of friends t' SWEAR he was somewhere else!"
"You've really thought this through," Dusty commented as Billy-Clyde produced a thumb-drive and loaded up the deleted footage.
"It comes from bein' a Detective f'r all those years," the big man replied. Once the footage was cued up it didn't take long for them to find the images of Ben being slammed from his blind side and going down hard. As expected, the assailant wore a hoodie and sunglasses--but left a recognizable tattoo on the back of his right hand exposed.
"Do you know who that is?" Dusty queried. Billy-Clyde swore he didn't and Ben suspected he was telling the truth.
"I know `im," Ben allowed. "He's in m' Monday/Wednesday/Friday Intro t' Criminal Justice Class--guess that explained why he looked none too happy t' see me this mornin'!"
"What are you gonna do?" Billy-Clyde wanted to know.
"Nothin'--yet..." the Texan replied, "an' you ain't gonna do nothin' either! Are we clear?"
"Yes Sir," the Guard said meekly. "I'm sorry I got involved in this mess!"
"Son--y'r sorry ya got caught!" Ben said. "Start by admittin' that! You ain't really a bad guy--but ya made some bad choices! You have th' option t' stop makin' those bad choices an' start makin' better ones! Whether ya do that is entirely up to you! Now--listen up! Make two more copies o' that thumb drives! One goes t' Mr. Bottoms--I'll take t' other as hostage f'r your future good behavior!"
The Security Guard was quick to do as requested. "And that's it?" Dusty said. "You don't want anything else?"
"I want you t' take a more active role runnin' this department!" Ben told him. "You should have known about Billy-Clyde's affiliation r at least questioned him once y' saw th' bracelet! Who knows what t' other guards r' up to!"
"I'll be more careful in future!" the Chief promised. "This is a good job and I'd hate to lose it when I'm this close to retirement!"
"Good enough then!" the Texan said. "Come on Sully boy--we got a class t' teach..."
END CHAPTER SIXTEEN
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