Steal My Heart

Chapter 6

brIAN LAY awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying the kiss on an endless loop. He blinked as the door slowly opened and the dogs jumped onto the bed and settled on either side of him. Damn, who would have thought a single kiss could get him so wound up? And yet it was the middle of the night and it was all he could think about.

“You guys like Hilliard,” he said. Both dogs lifted their heads in a Why are you talking now? kind of look. “I know. You like anyone who is willing to scratch your head and give belly rubs.”

Gigi blinked at him and then put her head down once more. He knew he was being stupid and just needed to settle down. The dogs drew closer as the evening air chilled the room. He liked to sleep with a window open to catch the fresh air and so he could hear the waves as they crashed against the coast.

Footsteps in the hall drew his attention, and he got up to find Gran using her walker to get to the bathroom. “Why are you still up?”

“Can’t sleep,” Brian said.

“I can’t either, but I’m old. What’s your excuse?” she retorted, and Brian rolled his eyes. “Does it have to do with our dinner guest?”

“Gran,” he said softly.

“I saw you two, and I saw the way he kissed you. It was damned steamy, and now you’re up in the middle of the night. It sounds to me as though you have Hilliard on your mind.” She continued on, and Brian went back to his room. The dogs had moved to where he’d been sleeping, taking up the warm spot on the bed. Brian scooted them over and climbed back under the covers, hoping he might be able to rest. Fortunately, once Gran had returned to her room, he rolled over and sleep finally came to him.

Still, he dreamed of a dark-haired man with intense eyes who kissed him like the world was ending. Those strong arms held him tight, and he wanted more, but the man stayed just far enough away that Brian couldn’t draw him closer, no matter what he did or how much he wanted to. The kisses were intense, but he couldn’t seem to touch him.

The dogs whimpered when he sat straight up in bed, breathing deeply, hard as a rock and wondering what the hell was going on. Both dogs blinked at him and then jumped down from the bed, probably going to sleep with Gran because she didn’t thrash around. Brian needed to rest—he had work to do today—but his subconscious had other ideas. Still, he lay back down, hoping his mind would quiet.

brIAN YAWNED as he touched up the trim on Hilliard’s house. He held the brush still as the uncontrollable motion went through him.

“It looks almost done,” Hilliard said from behind him.

Brian didn’t dare turn around. He wanted to, but every time he saw Hilliard, his mind made these flights of erotic fantasy that he needed to keep under control. It had only been a kiss, but his mind was charging ahead full speed. “It is.” He continued with the last of the touch-ups and then climbed down from the ladder. “I got some floor paint for the treads on the new stairs, but I think we need to wait a while for the wood to age before we paint it. I just have the fence repairs to go.” He needed to keep things professional since he was working.

“That’s good. And I have to figure out what I’m going to do with this yard. Everything is overgrown and out of control.” Hilliard had already pulled out a lot of weeds and had most of the beds cleared, but now they were empty patches of earth. “I suppose that can wait until we finish up the other work.”

Brian felt Hilliard’s gaze on him as he set down the brush. “The garden center here offers design work. You might want to get them to make up a plan for you, and then all you’d have to do is plant what they suggest. Gardening isn’t one of my areas of expertise, but they’ve helped a number of the inns and other people in town.” He dared a glance at Hilliard and found him smiling at him. Damned if Brian didn’t grin back like an idiot. He stepped toward Hilliard and looked at the house.

“Wow, what a difference. This looks so much better.”

“It does.” Brian lifted his gaze upward as the fog thickened. Just an hour ago, the sky had been clear, but now the haze and clouds obscured the sky, lying low over the land. Fortunately most of the painting was done, with only the touch-ups still wet. The weather was highly unpredictable, and sometimes you just had to go with whatever happened.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” Hilliard asked. “I thought we could meet here about nine and go south.”

Brian nodded. “That would be good. But I hope I’m not causing you a whole bunch of trouble.”

“Where did that come from?” Hilliard asked. He seemed to be holding his breath.

Brian suddenly felt exposed. He wished he hadn’t said anything, but he had already opened the can of worms. “Sometimes I think I’m the one person who is destined to be a pain in the ass for everyone else. I can’t seem to just go through life unscathed. Gran has had to put up with a lot, and now I’m foisting my problems onto you. I just think that maybe everyone would be better off is I wasn’t around.”

“That’s bullshit. Your grandmother stuck around because she loves you, and I may not be a trained investigator, but I’m going into this with my eyes open. I know what I’m doing, and I agreed to help you.” Hilliard lightly touched his shoulder. “You don’t need to second-guess yourself all the time.”

“I guess,” Brian whispered. It would be nice to have proof that he hadn’t carried out the burglary. He knew he had been with Gramps at the time, and he had never stolen from anyone. But that didn’t seem to matter to a lot of folks in town. “Guilt or innocence doesn’t seem to make a difference to anyone once you’ve been to jail. As far as most people are concerned, I did it, and they won’t look beyond that.”

“Well, what we have to do is prove that you didn’t. Once we do that, everyone is going to know you were wrongly convicted. So we take a road trip tomorrow and try to find someone who remembers seeing you and your grandfather that day. We’ll also look into who actually did the burglary. They can’t hide forever. Someone knows more than they’re saying. We simply need to get to the bottom of what happened.” He squeezed lightly, and Brian closed his eyes, his entire being concentrating on that one point where Hilliard touched him.

“But what if we do this and no one cares?” That was his true worry. All that everyone would remember was what he was accused of.

Hilliard chuckled. “In a town this size, everyone is going to know what happened. And once they do, things will change.” He squeezed once more, and then his hand fell away. “Just relax, and let’s concentrate on finding the proof we need. From there, we can appeal your conviction on the grounds of new evidence that proves it couldn’t have been you.”

Brian turned to Hilliard. He seemed so confident that Brian wanted badly to believe him. But he had already seen that the justice system didn’t always get it right. And what if they had the proof and no one cared anyway?

No, he had to put that aside and let Hilliard do what he did best. At some point he had to trust someone.

“Okay. I’ll be here tomorrow at nine, and we can look for a needle in a haystack.” He just hoped that the needle was actually there to be found.

“READY?” HILLIARD asked as Brian approached the house. The clouds hung over the coast, and there was even a bit of mist in the air.

“As I’ll ever be.” Brian wasn’t convinced that this would do any good. After all, it had been over two years. People changed jobs, and it wasn’t likely anyone was going to remember him and Gramps. Still, if Hilliard wanted to spend his time doing this, who was he to tell him no?

“Then let’s get to it.” Hilliard led the way around to the side and unlocked the Mustang. He slid in and started the engine. Then he pressed a button and the roof slid back. “We might as well have some fun while we tool down the coast.”

That grin was infectious, and for a second Brian forgot why they were going. He climbed in, and Hilliard pulled out to drive through town. It took about two minutes before the wind in Brian’s hair blew out some of the old cobwebs he hadn’t realized were there. By the time they turned onto the main road heading south, Brian had his eyes closed and let the wind carry him away.

“There’s really something amazing about the convertible, and it isn’t the sun, but the wind and the air. I have a few sweatshirts in back if it gets chilly, but I love having the top down.”

“Me too. I think this could become my favorite car thing.”

Hilliard laughed. “What’s your current favorite?”

Brian chuckled. “Maybe connecting the car to my phone so I can choose my own music.” He smiled as Hilliard handed him a cord and told him to go for it. Soon enough, they had added a soundtrack of ’80s dance tunes to their drive. Brian didn’t know if this could get any better, but by the time they crossed the Little River bridge, they were singing along, and Brian actually thought this could be a day to remember.

The song changed, and Hilliard laughed. “Oh my God, ABBA?” he cried, and before long the two of them were singing to “Dancing Queen” at the top of their lungs. The fun continued into Queen’s “We Will Rock You” and “We Are the Champions” until they were both grinning like fools, singing until they were nearly hoarse.

They drove around a bend in the road, and Brian stopped singing.

“That’s the Point Arena Lighthouse. Gramps and I stopped there to see the light and the sea lions. The turnoff is a mile or so up ahead.”

And just like that, the reason they were here came rolling back over them. Hilliard made the turn, and they continued out along the point toward the ocean, the white light tower growing closer and more impressive as they drew near.

“Gramps always loved it here. The light itself is okay.” Brian motioned, and Hilliard pulled over. “It’s the seals and sea lions that are the real stars here.”

“I get that. But we need to see if anyone can help place you here that day. What would be memorable about you and him?”

Brian paused because he hadn’t really thought about how this would work. “Gramps had this real thing about lighthouses, and apparently he’d been reading, so he probably had a conversation with one of the keepers about lenses and the kind of light they had. He also used a cane to get around. Gramps had been really tired all the time, but on the trip he had more energy, and I thought he might be improving.” Instead, maybe he was using up all he had left. At least that was what it seemed like now.

“All right. Let’s see if there are people here who might have met him.” Hilliard pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, the roll of the ocean instantly replacing the hum.

Hilliard got out, and Brian did the same, realizing just how futile this whole thing might be. How in the heck were they going to find someone who remembered them after all this time and with the number of visitors a place like this got? Brian wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he followed Hilliard up to the house and visitor center.

“Excuse me,” Hilliard asked a man outside with a name badge. The light was still in use as a navigational aid, so it had official keepers, which Brian thought was pretty awesome. “I’m hoping you can help us. I know this is a long shot, but my friend and his grandfather visited here on a trip down the coast about three years ago or so. Would there be anyone here who might remember them?”

At least the man, who was about their age, didn’t dismiss them right away or laugh. “I’ve been here two years because the last keeper retired. He moved out east, as far as I know.” He pulled off his hat and scratched his head. “Sorry.” He shifted his gaze to look up at the top of the light, and Brian did the same, hoping for some sort of inspiration.

“Can I ask, do you have security cameras?” Hilliard asked.

“Sure do. Had to install them a few years ago. Even out here, we have issues sometimes.”

Hilliard smiled. “How far back do the files go?”

The man nodded. “I see. Sorry. We only keep a few months, and then the files are discarded to make room for newer ones. But I can check. Sometimes the old keeper kept stuff he didn’t need to. I’ve been cleaning some stuff out but haven’t gotten to that yet.”

Brian wasn’t hopeful, but the date was etched in his mind. He gave it to the keeper, who went inside to check.

“I don’t know how much this whole thing is going to help. The coast out here is really rugged. That’s what Gramps liked. We were away from tons of people, and we just drove. There aren’t many more places like this.” Which is why it had been so easy to pin the crime on him in the first place.

“We’ll figure something out. If you don’t look, then you don’t find anything.” Hilliard seemed so sure of himself. Brian wished he could have that kind of confidence.

The keeper returned, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anything from around that date.”

“Well, thank you for looking,” Hilliard said. Brian thanked him as well before heading back toward the car. Maybe he just wasn’t meant to be cleared. Maybe it was his destiny to carry this around with him for the rest of his life.

“Hey,” Hilliard said as he strode to the car. “It’s okay. This sort of thing happens.” He pulled open the door and slid behind the wheel.

Brian got in, wanting to ask Hilliard to just take him home. This entire exercise was futile; he should have seen that from the start.

“There’s nothing out here for us,” Brian said softly, staring out toward the ocean.

“You don’t know that.” Hilliard squeezed his knee, and when Brian turned toward him, he was met with a hopeful smile. Then Hilliard kissed him lightly. “We have to try. If someone remembers you, then we have a major hole in the case, and it’s a significant enough development to petition the courts. If we can establish a solid alibi, then we’ll get the court to take notice and provide the evidence to the police to get them on our side and convince them to reopen the burglary case.” He seemed so excited that Brian found himself feeling the same way. Hilliard’s energy and outlook were contagious.

“Okay,” he said, flashing a small smile.

“Good.” Hilliard slid his hand around the back of Brian’s neck and gently tugged him forward. He leaned closer, kissing him hard, sending Brian’s mind into a spin. He had no idea how Hilliard could affect him this way, but every time Hilliard kissed him, Brian felt like he could fly. When Hilliard paused, he breathed deeply, eyes wide. “I think I’m going to have to do that every time we don’t find anything.”

“Huh?” Brian said, blinking, trying to make sense of what he said.

“It’s simple. Whenever we get unhelpful news, I kiss you. Make the most of a bad situation.” He started the engine and backed out of the parking spot to head down the drive and out along the point toward the main road. Brian sat in the passenger seat, just watching Hilliard. There was something about him that made everything seem okay. Brian didn’t know if he could trust or believe it, but it was there. Damn, he wished he could believe what Hilliard did—that everything would be fine. But his experience was something completely different.

At the end of the point, Hilliard turned south. “Where did you and Gramps stop next?”

“We stopped for lunch a ways south and drove as far as Point Reyes to the next lighthouse. I’ll show you when we get there.”

Hilliard sped up, the air blew through his hair, and Brian sat back to try to enjoy the ride.

“ARE YOU sure this is the place?” Hilliard asked as he pulled into a diner that looked to be from a different era.

“Yeah. Gramps liked the place. He said it reminded him of a diner he used to eat at when he was a kid. The food was pretty good.” Brian got out of the car, and they went inside.

“Is anyone familiar? I know it’s been a while.” Hilliard sat in a booth, and Brian took the place across from him.

“There was a server that Gramps talked with for quite a while. She was older, and it was quiet, so she settled in for a good talk while we waited for our food.” He wished he could remember her name. She and Gramps had enjoyed talking about the way things used to be, and it was possible that she might remember them. “I don’t see her. All the people working here look young.” And like they hadn’t had a good meal in a long time.

“What I get you?” a woman asked in a heavy accent.

“There used to be an older lady who worked here a while ago. Really friendly?” Brian asked.

The server shrugged.

“Lisa?” the other server offered quietly. “She doesn’t work here anymore. The place was sold a while ago.” She had less of an Asian accent, but her eyes were as sunken as the other woman’s, and her skin as sallow. Neither of them looked healthy. Brian’s appetite went south, and Hilliard leaned forward.

“Thank you,” he said softly. Both women glanced toward a door at the back of the dining area, fear in their eyes. Brian was about to get up when Hilliard lifted his phone so the women could see it. Brian didn’t know what he was showing them, but the women looked at each other and then turned away. Hilliard slipped his phone in his pocket, and the second woman brought them each a glass of Sprite.

Brian wondered what that was about, but Hilliard’s expression told him he shouldn’t ask and just drink. Hilliard pulled out some money and paid for the drinks, finishing his Sprite before leaving a tip and thanking the women. Then he motioned to the door, and Brian finished his drink as well. He and Hilliard got in the car, and they headed away.

“Okay. What was that about? I hate Sprite. And what was with your phone?”

He unlocked it and passed it over. The screen read: Need Help? Sprite = Yes, Water = No. He handed it back to Hilliard.

“Those women were scared to death, and I doubt they’re being fed properly. And something had to be going on, so I thought I would ask without raising suspicion. If the boss thought I was onto what was happening, he’d cause a lot of trouble.”

“God,” Brian breathed, realizing that Hilliard was probably understating things. It was likely that the women would simply disappear. “What do we do?”

“The last time I flew into California, every time I went to the airport bathroom or public restroom, there was a sign in English and Spanish with a number to call if you need help. When we come into reception again, see if you can find a picture of it and we’ll call that number. Jot down the name and location of the restaurant so we don’t forget it, and we’ll see if we can help.”

“You did this without raising suspicion, didn’t you?” He was slick and maybe a little sneaky.

“The boss was just in the back, and he might have ways of either watching them or listening to them, so I tried to make this as unobtrusive as possible.”

“But how do you know they’re telling the truth?” Brian asked.

“Desperation and fear. Both of them reeked of it. Who knows what happened? Maybe they were trafficked into the country and are now working off some debt for pennies an hour. I represented a whole family back in Cleveland who had been taken advantage of. I was able to help them, but Alan was angry because they couldn’t pay.” Hilliard shook his head. “He turned out to be a real asshole. I always wanted to be a partner in a large law firm, one big enough that I could take the occasional case just because it was the right thing to do. When we started the firm, I had visions of growing it into something special, a firm we could be proud of and one that would eventually become what I had always envisioned, one that could help people like those women in the diner. But Alan, my ex-partner and jerk extraordinaire ex-boyfriend, squashed that vision like a bug.”

“Sounds like he really was a dick,” Brian said as he watched his phone. When they came into the next small town, he got a signal and found the number. Brian called, and Hilliard pulled over. Brian let him explain what he’d suspected and what he’d done.

“That’s good. … Yes.” He explained things once more, describing the women, then smiled. “I’m glad you can help.” He ended the call and pulled back onto the road. “It’s a state agency, and they said they would have someone out there and that they knew just how to handle the situation.”

“But—”

“They assured me that their people understood what they needed to do and that they would be careful to make sure the women stayed safe and were going to be treated well and get the help they needed.” He continued driving. For the moment, at least, Brian was much more worried about the women than he was about himself. “Where did you stop next?”

“At the lighthouse in Point Reyes. Gramps wanted to see it, but when we got there, he wasn’t able to actually get to the light. There are a lot of stairs from the visitor center down to the light itself. He was able to see it from the center, though.”

“That seems like a shame. This was a trip for your grandfather.”

“I know. But it’s, like, three hundred steps, and there was no way he could’ve made it. But Gramps found ways to keep himself occupied. He insisted that I make the trip and take pictures for him. So I went down, took pictures on my phone, and sent them to his phone.”

Hilliard pulled off to the side of the road. “Do you still have those? And the texts?”

Brian nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure I do. I don’t delete things like that. I tried to show that to my lawyer and the police, but they weren’t interested and discounted it as proof of nothing.”

Hilliard shook his head. “We’ll get images of those when we get back. They were wrong, and your lawyer was inept. That’s all I can say about that. He should have been looking for anything to help you. That was his job. It could help build our case that you were elsewhere. It probably isn’t enough to conclusively show that you were here because it would only mean that someone with your phone took the pictures, but they could help bolster the case.” He pulled back on the road. They turned inland for a ways until they came to the turnoff for Point Reyes and then entered the national park. Brian wondered in passing if they kept track of cars that came and went, but figured that was too much to hope for. They made the twenty-mile drive out toward the light.

“I can’t believe you’re doing all this to help me,” Brian said as they reached the visitor center. They had already been on the road for a couple of hours and would still have the entire drive back.

“Stop. If there’s a way to prove you were with your grandfather, then we will.” He patted Brian’s leg. “Now, since we’re here, why don’t we go on out to the light and see if there is anyone who might remember you.”

Brian got out and joined a group of others as they made their way down the path. He hadn’t been kidding about the stairs. It took them ten minutes or so to get down the path and the cliff face to the actual outcropping where the light stood. A ranger was giving a general talk about the light and when it was built. No one seemed familiar, but that wasn’t a surprise. It had been years, and hundreds of people visited every day.

Brian went out to see the light itself more closely and realized that Hilliard wasn’t with him. He paused to look for him but went on, getting a good look at the lens before wandering around the equipment building. By the time he reached the trailhead once more, he found Hilliard speaking to one of the rangers.

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Hilliard said as he approached. The ranger went inside and returned a few minutes later shaking his head. “Well, thank you. I knew it was a long shot.” Hilliard turned away.

“What?”

“They have cameras because of security and the foot traffic, but they only keep the footage for six months and rotate it out.” He shrugged.

“It’s going to be that way everywhere,” Brian told him. “It isn’t like anyone is going to remember me or Gramps after all this time, and even if they think they do, they aren’t going to be able to testify to it. Too much time has passed.” He turned toward the steps and the trek back to the car. “We might as well head back. There isn’t any more to see.”

“Okay. But we aren’t giving up. There has to be a way. We just need to find it.” Hilliard started back up the steps, and Brian sighed. They had found nothing, and yet it had been a very long time since anyone had been so stubborn for his benefit and in his defense. One thing was for sure: if there was a way to prove he was innocent, Hilliard was determined to figure out what it was.