Who's Afraid of Joe Vincente - 7. Chapter 7

Tom discovered that there was open seating in all his classes. No matter, most students took the same seat at each class meeting. He stood outside his Spanish class until the guy he was hot for entered the room. Then Tom scurried in behind him and took a seat adjacent to him. The boy was more than pleased. He had his eyes on Tom, also.

Tom put his hand out, and said, “My name’s Tomas Guzman, but everyone calls me Tom. I just moved into the neighborhood, and I’m new here. Where do the guys go to hang out?”

The young man’s grin lit up his face.

“I don’t hang out with the other guys,” he said. “I’m gay. You are too, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am, and I think you’re hot.”

“You’re way hotter. There’s a luncheonette in the next street. Do you want to meet me there after school, and we’ll get acquainted?”

“I’d love to, but if you tell me your name, that’ll be a good start.”

“Oh sure, my name’s George Cole, but everyone calls me Georgie.”

“Pleased to meetcha, Georgie,” Tom said, pumping Georgie’s hand. Just then the teacher came in, and conversation ceased. At least conversation in English ceased, and Spanish began. When the class ended, the two young men walked out together.

“I’ll seeya later,” Georgie said, and Tom smiled at him.

“You betcha. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Georgie was waiting for Tom in front of the luncheonette when he arrived. The weather was getting very brisk, and they rushed into the restaurant. There were no available tables in the place, so they sat at the soda fountain. Tom ordered a chocolate malt, and Georgie ordered a black and white ice cream soda.

“Where did you live before?” Georgie asked.

“Downtown.”

“No kidding, me too.”

“You mean you haven’t been here very long either?”

“About a year or so. Hey, if we’re both new to the neighborhood, we should introduce our folks. Maybe they’re anxious to meet the neighbors.”

Tom wasn’t going to beat around the bush. Even if Georgie was very wealthy, he was going to come out with the truth.

“The thing is, Georgie, that I live with my guardian. He has lived in his house all his life. He might even know your folks I just recently came to live with him. I’m not ashamed to admit that before I lived with him I was homeless.”

“That’s one weird coincidence,” Georgie said. “I’m living with foster parents. When they agreed to take me in, they had just become empty nesters. They have two kids, and the youngest got married this past summer. How did you get yourself a guardian?”

“Some gay guys are lucky and their parents stand by them. My dad kicked me out. He caught me going down on a neighbor. I didn’t know where to go or what to do, so I lived on the streets. I got caught trying to rob a house. Instead of having me arrested, the owner of the house became my guardian. Not only is he rich, but he really loves me. Nobody ever loved me before.”

Tom started to cry, and Georgie put his hand on his new friend’s shoulder.

“I have an older brother,” Georgie started his narration, “his name is John. He’s gay also, and we used to fool around in our room when our parents thought we were asleep. We didn’t do anything heavy. We just fondled each other, and occasionally one of us came in the other’s palm. My dad caught us at it one night, and he kicked us both out. I think the real reason he did that, wasn’t because we were gay, but because we were poor, and this way, he wouldn’t have to support us anymore. I don’t know what happened to my brother, but unlike you, I went to the nearest police station. They hooked me up with a social worker, who put me in the foster care system. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that my foster parents love me, but they show me more affection than my folks ever did.”

“We are both so lucky,” Tom said.

The check came and Tom insisted on paying. “My guardian gave me way too much for lunch money, but I’m not pissing it away. I never had money to buy Christmas presents before. I’m going to use the money I’ve been saving to buy expensive Christmas presents for my two new dads.”

“You have two dads?”

“Yeah, my guardian is gay, and he has a partner who’s just as nice to me as he is. You wouldn’t believe it, but my other dad is a tough police detective.”

“Unbelievable,” Georgie said, giving out a low whistle.

As they were leaving, Tom asked Georgie where he lived, and they both broke out laughing. They were only four brownstones apart.

“Hey man, I live with a gay couple,” Tom said. “They wouldn’t care who I brought into my bedroom. In fact, they’d be happy, because I always tease them by coming on to them, and they keep telling me to get a boyfriend.”

“That’s nice to know. Let’s exchange telephone numbers.”

They walked each other home, and not an hour later, Mrs. Anderson, Georgie’s foster mother, got a telephone call. The caller identified himself as Joseph Vincente, Tom’s guardian.

“I live just a few doors away from you,” Joe said.

“How wonderful to speak to you. Georgie has done nothing but talk about Tom since he got home from school.”

“The reason for my call is that we are taking Tom out Sunday evening to celebrate his birthday. If you allow it, we would love for Georgie to join us.

“Why, of course he can.”

“Tell him to dress very casually.”

******

Although Ken and Jim kept their eyes and wits working overtime, while seeking out John Cole, the truth is that they had a ball socializing at the bar. Jim looked exceptionally hot for a middle-aged man. The clothing Ken gave him was meant to attract a man. Every time someone got too friendly with Jim, Ken took his hand as if to say back off, he’s mine.

The two detectives combed the bar for three straight nights. Ken told Jim that he couldn’t make Sunday night because he and Joe were celebrating Tom’s sixteenth birthday. He asked Jim if he wanted to get another detective or take the evening off.

“I can go there alone. I think we’re striking out on this lead anyhow.”

“If you do go alone, be very careful, not only with Cole, but with the boys,” Ken said, and broke out laughing.

******

Tom and Georgie, Ken and Joe, had a wonderful time all evening during their birthday dinner. Both boys were very impressed at how the restaurant staff fawned over Joe. There were times of lots of laughter, but unfortunately, at odd moments the two young men would break into tears, either separately or at the same time.

Ken was aware that they were happy tears. He knew Tom’s story, but he was curious as to why Georgie was crying. He took the bull by the horns.

“Why are you crying, Georgie?” he asked. “Did someone harm you?”

“I feel comfortable telling you my story because you’re both gay,” he said. He then proceeded to tell them everything he had told Tom.

When he mentioned that his brother’s name was John Cole, Ken’s blood turned to ice. He took out his cell phone, and said he’d be back in a moment. He stood just outside the restaurant and called his precinct. He requested that a picture of John Cole be E-Mailed to his cell phone immediately.

Minutes later he was back at the table. He showed Georgie the picture he had just received, and asked if it was his brother, John.

“Yes, it is. How did you get this picture?” Georgie asked. “Is John in trouble?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

His phone rang again. It was someone from forensics, who informed him that a single hair recovered from John Cole’s baseball cap matched the DNA on the ticket stub.

He couldn’t wait for the party to break up, and get Joe and Tom home to safety. His mind was working overtime imagining horrible scenarios. What if John wanted to reconnect with his brother, and discovered that Joe Vincente’s ward was Georgie’s best friend? What mischief would he be capable of? He had already killed several people.

******

Jim was uncomfortable at first without Ken at the bar, but he got into several conversations with some of the patrons, and he relaxed, but he never let his guard down. Of course, he got hit on a couple of times, but he told the guys that his partner was waiting for him at home. Fortunately, they backed off.

‘The Male Room’ remained open until 2 AM on every night of the week. On Friday and Saturday nights, the place was so crowded that the staff had to shoo the revelers out, but Sunday was the evening before a work day. Consequently, the place started to empty out about 11 PM. Jim decided to call it a night at about midnight.

The side street, where Jim had found parking earlier that evening, was practically deserted. He approached his car, took out his remote door opener, and unlocked the car. Two seconds later he was dead from a bullet fired at close range right through his head. He never knew what hit him.

John Cole grabbed the remote out of Jim’s hands, and loaded the body into the back seat of his own car. He got behind the wheel and drove to where Jim currently shared his apartment with his son Keith. He dragged Jim’s body out of the car, and threw it on its back. The body sprawled itself over Jim’s stoop. The street was deserted. John placed a theater ticket in Jim’s trouser pocket. He shot off both of Jim’s knee caps, and he casually walked away. He was lost in the dark seconds later.

John smiled to himself. He was wearing latex gloves, which he would dispose of later. He was sure he had gotten away with another murder using the same MO as Joe Vincente’s hit men. He hated Jim Canella. He blamed Jim for breaking up his relationship with Keith. He strutted away from the body, smug in his belief that he could not be traced to the murder. He had no idea that the police already knew who committed the murders, and they had forensic evidence linking him to the murders; not just forensic evidence, but the good kind; the kind that stands up in a court of law.