Chapter One
Flipping through channels on the flat screen television, Detective Sergeant Kevin Bryson stretched out on his back on the motel bed and tried to get comfortable. James Tucker, his best friend, former partner and probably the love of his life had stopped answering his cell phone, and no one had heard from him in over three weeks.
It had been a long drive the day before from the Gulf coast of Florida to North Carolina, and once he arrived, he’d spent some time going from place to place in the small town of Sylva, even though it was early evening, asking questions in a few of the shops still open and in the small cafés, just like he’d done all day today. He went anywhere he could think of, really, that might get him results. The local sheriff’s department had been his first stop that morning, of course. They looked at his credentials and were polite enough, but claimed never to have heard of any cult operating in the area. When Kevin admitted Tucker left Florida willingly, they told him there was nothing they could do.
Everyone in town, as a matter of fact, claimed never to have heard of any kind of cult, religious or otherwise. They also claimed never to have heard of a former detective from Florida named James Tucker or his lover, a man Kevin knew only as Gavin—but then, he hadn’t really expected to get information so quickly. He was really only hoping to stir things up and get a lead.
Using cell phone records, he’d tracked Tucker to this general area, but that was as close as he could get. If Tucker had fallen victim to a dangerous cult, like Kevin thought he had, he believed there would be other cult members in the area, whether they were willing to admit it or not. If he asked enough questions, nosed around enough, he might be able to attract the attention of the group. He was hoping the cult members would come looking for him and save him further trouble.
He sat up on the side of the bed and stretched. He’d spent the morning in town and most of the afternoon searching on the internet for various churches or religious groups in the area. It was late afternoon now, and he needed to figure something out for dinner.
Levering himself off the bed, he stretched again. Damn, his back was a little stiff from the long drive. At the ripe old age of thirty-four, he shouldn’t have this many aches and pains, should he? Maybe if he actually did more cardio like his trainer told him to when he worked out at his gym, he might be in better shape. Up to this point, he’d been mainly interested in shaping his body and sculpting his muscles so he usually concentrated on the weights. Tucker used to laugh at him and say at least he’d look pretty when he wound up in the hospital with a heart attack someday. Tucker, himself, was a runner.
Tucker—Kevin felt the familiar twinge in his chest that he always got when he thought of him lately. He’d been in love with Tucker for so long, it seemed like a part of him by now. Tucker had never wanted to be involved romantically, claiming it was because they worked together, and saying it would ruin things if a relationship between them went wrong. So Kevin had reluctantly accepted the status quo and remained Tucker’s partner and eventually became his best friend. Of course, he was still in love with Tucker, and always would be. That went without saying. And he wouldn’t forsake him now, if there was any chance this crazy group was holding him against his will. He wanted to talk to him and see for himself, and he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less.
There had been almost no word from Tucker since he left Florida to travel to Tennessee almost a month before with a man he barely knew, this Gavin. The guy was from somewhere in the state, close to the border of North Carolina, and Tucker said he wanted to go with Gavin to explore his newly discovered family home. Gavin had told Tucker that he was taken from the area as a baby by his grandparents, and his real father was still alive and looking for him. The fact that Tucker was given no proof of any of this, and that he’d been hiding out from Gavin just a few days before, somehow no longer seemed to matter to Tucker, no matter what Kevin tried to tell him. Tucker had told Kevin he suspected Gavin was the leader of some kind of cult. What could have happened to change his mind so radically?
To make things even worse, they’d been right in the middle of a murder investigation, and the chief was so furious when he discovered Tucker’s absence and his refusal to return, he’d fired Tucker on the spot, a not surprising reaction. As it turned out, the man was a homophobic asshole anyway. Tucker had long suspected that about him, and he kept his orientation secret within the department. When Tucker left the way he had, word had inevitably gotten out about him.
At Kevin’s persistent urging, the chief had sent some investigators to check into the situation, and they questioned people at the Nightstick, a bar Tucker frequented, and at the hotel where Gavin had been staying. It hadn’t taken him long to discover Tucker and Gavin were lovers. At that point, the chief closed the investigation, saying Tucker had ‘gone off with his fag boyfriend.’
He’d called Bryson in his office to tell him he was no longer looking into the situation. “I guess he fooled us all with his homo lifestyle, huh? Let him go. Good riddance. And leave it alone, Bryson, or we’ll start to wonder about you too. End of story.”
It wasn’t the end of the fucking story for Kevin. For him, it was only the beginning. The assholes he worked with could wonder about him all they wanted to. If Tucker was in trouble, he wouldn’t turn his back on him to save himself.