Turning the Page (22 page)

“Yes. Are you?” Hans asked.

“Yes. Just stay where you are. There’s glass everywhere, and if Gary tries to get up, I’ll take care of him.” He bent down as Gary began to shift his arms to get them under him. “Move and I’ll use your head for a soccer ball,” he growled at Gary, who stilled.

Sirens blared, and the front door opened, police streaming in, guns in hand. They stopped when they saw Gary on the floor.

Malcolm pointed toward the door. “His gun is in there. There’s glass everywhere, so be careful, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d take this sad pile of trash out of my house.” He had had more of Gary in the last few days than he wanted for the rest of his life.

“Who called us?” the officer in charge asked with a steady gaze that brooked no bullshit.

“I did,” Hans said. “He broke in and held me at gunpoint until Malcolm came downstairs. Then he threatened both of us. Malcolm was able to occupy his attention, and when Gary was about to shoot, I knocked him out with a glass paperweight. That’s where the glass came from.”

“No one has touched the gun except him. Fingerprint analysis will confirm that. His name is Gary Hanlan. He was a partner in my law firm until he resigned.” Malcolm tossed Hans his phone. “Call Lyndon—he’s in there—and ask him to come right over.”

“Who is Lyndon?” the officer asked.

“My attorney,” Malcolm answered. He had no intention of letting anyone put either him or Hans through any bullshit.

“And you are?”

“Malcolm Webber, senior partner at Warren, Hanlan, and Webber.”

That had the desired effect.

“We have touched nothing, and I’ll allow you to gather whatever evidence you need.”

“Well, thank you.” He didn’t sound remotely amused. “If you want, you can join him in the living room.”

He motioned one of the other officers into the kitchen, presumably to get the gun, and Malcolm joined Hans, sitting on the arm of the chair and taking Hans’s hand. The officers handcuffed Gary and picked him up off the floor, removing him from the house.

“All I could think of was keeping him away from you,” Malcolm told Hans.

“And I was trying to figure out how to call the police without him knowing. Then, when he was about to shoot, I grabbed the only thing I could think of to throw at him. I got lucky and hit him on the back of the head, and he went down like a ton of bricks.”

“Where did you learn to throw like that?”

“When I was in Africa. I wanted to have one of the heroes in one of my early books subdue the killer with an old-fashioned sling. The idea was to do sort of a historical adventure. Part of my research was in basic weapons, and I learned how to throw with accuracy. I haven’t done it in a while, but I guess I remembered when it counted.” Hans held him closer. “How did you know to talk to him like that?”

“I had to try to calm him and see if he’d surrender on his own.”

The officer turned back to them. “Gentlemen, I’m Detective Rodriguez, and I’d like to ask you both a few questions.”

“Our attorney is on the way,” Malcolm said.

“We just need to know what happened,” he persisted.

“Gary broke into my house and held us at gunpoint. I tried to talk him down, and Hans made one hell of a shot with a glass paperweight and took him out.”

“Did he say why he was here?”

“He was senior partner but was removed a few weeks ago. He also resigned from the firm, and things have been going very badly for him since. He was acting erratically at the office, and I think he intended to shoot us and then take his own life. He blamed me for his troubles.”

“But you were the one who got him elected senior partner in the first place,” Hans said.

“True, but I’m also the one who replaced him, and when Gary went after our clients, we shut him out. He had nothing left and couldn’t take it.” That was all Malcolm intended to say until Lyndon arrived.

“You threw the paperweight?” Detective Rodriguez asked, turning to Hans.

“Yes. In Malcolm’s defense, and I’d do it again. He had Malcolm at gunpoint.”

“You are?”

“Hans Erickson, Malcolm’s boyfriend,” Hans said. “I’m a writer.”

Detective Rodriguez blinked a few times. “Not
the
Hans Erickson?”

Hans nodded.

“I love your work. I’ve read
Diving the Storm
twice, and I gave a copy to my son. It’s awesome.”

“Thank you,” Hans said quietly. “I never expected my research to come in handy in such a practical way.”

“We’ve arrested Mr. Hanlan and will charge him. I’ll need to take some information and have you both make statements. It’s pretty clear what happened, and your stories are supported by the evidence.”

“Is Gary talking?” Malcolm asked.

“All we’re getting out of him right now is gibberish. Maybe the conk on the head scrambled his brains. He’s being transported to the hospital. An ambulance is on its way.”

“You might have someone see if they can match his shoes with tracks in the snow around the house. I noticed them the other day, and in hindsight he may have been watching the house, looking for me.”

He made notes. “We’ll do what we can,” he agreed as Lyndon came inside.

“What happened?”

“Gary’s cheese fell off his cracker, and he tried to kill Malcolm,” Hans answered. “He held us at gunpoint, and I took him out with a paperweight.”

“We’ve cooperated with the police, and they’ve been good,” Malcolm said. He’d contacted Lyndon as a precaution in case the police got everything messed up.

“We’ll need both of you to make a statement, and we’re going to get Mr. Hanlan some medical attention. He’ll be in custody the entire time,” Detective Rodriguez said as flashes went off in the hallway.

The police took photographs in the house, and everyone stayed clear and let them do their jobs. Finally the police finished and got ready to leave.

“We got a few good prints in the snow, and they match Mr. Hanlan’s boots.”

Malcolm nodded, relieved that he had an answer as to who had been outside the house.

“We’ll arrange to come down tomorrow to sign statements and press charges,” Lyndon told the detective and walked out with him.

“That was enough excitement to last a lifetime,” Malcolm told Hans once it was just the two of them.

“Yeah. That’s a new one. And you were so calm—it was impressive.”

“I was shaking like a leaf.”

“But it didn’t show. All those years in court and in front of clients really paid off. You looked calm and collected. Gary didn’t have a chance,” Hans said.

“He was going to shoot. And who knows what might have happened if it hadn’t been for you?” He leaned closer to Hans, holding him and sitting still. This whole thing was overwhelming, and everything that had happened slammed into him all at once. Now that it was over, fear welled up inside. Malcolm shivered and shook for a few minutes. “Gary was going to kill me. I could see it in his eyes. He intended to shoot any second.”

“I know. I saw him get ready and had to act.” Hans shook as well, and they held each other.

“The last thing I ever expected was to be held at gunpoint.” He was a tax attorney, for God’s sake. Granted, he dealt with people who tried to cheat on their taxes all the time, but it wasn’t like he defended hardened criminals.

“It’s going to be fine. Gary is in custody, and he isn’t going anywhere.”

“His lawyer will try to get him out on bail,” Malcolm said. “That’s what he does.”

“Maybe. But I’d think that would be hard. He’s been showing signs of mental instability. Make sure you make that clear when you give your statement so that the police can request that he be held as a danger to himself as well as others.”

“I’ll have to talk to Ellen. She noticed it as well.” Malcolm’s mind was already working toward how he could build a case. “Maybe there are others who can help.” He had no intention of allowing Gary to go free if he could help it. There was little doubt in his mind that Gary would come after him and Hans again if he were allowed to go free once more. He’d been so fixated on him and the perceived slights Malcolm had caused.

“Don’t worry about that now. He’s not in any shape to go anywhere at the moment, and he isn’t going to be for a while. He was hit pretty hard. I hope I didn’t hurt him too badly. I mean, he is a real prick and I hope he ends up in jail for a damn long time, but I don’t want to be the one who scrambled his brains.”

“You sure have a colorful way with words at a time like this.”

“I’m a writer, and I get a little giddy when my life has been threatened. Sue me.” Hans flashed a nervous smile.

“Never say that to a lawyer.” Malcolm was pleased that he could tell a small joke of his own, and it made some of the tension that had settled on his shoulders fall away.

The front door opened and closed, and Lyndon came back into the room. “I think this is going to be a pretty open-and-shut case. The police are convinced that your stories are true and that Gary was the aggressor. I don’t expect any repercussions from you throwing the paperweight to subdue him. After all, you were in Malcolm’s home with his permission and Gary was not. I’m going to go back home. Give me a call if you need anything, and I’ll work everything out tomorrow so you can give your statements. Other than that, I suggest the two of you try to relax and get some rest.”

“We will, thanks,” Malcolm said, getting up and walking Lyndon to the door. “I appreciate everything.”

“No problem,” Lyndon said with a sly grin. “Hans seems like a nice guy, and he sure has one hell of an arm.”

“He’s an incredible man who surprises me all the time.”

“That’s good.” Lyndon leaned back, presumably so he could see Hans once again. “You two have a good night.”

“We’ll try,” Malcolm said and opened the door, thanking Lyndon one more time. He watched until Lyndon got to his car before closing the door.

“Do you want to go or stay here?” Hans asked.

Malcolm had completely forgotten about their plans to stay at Hans’s. “Let me get the bags and clean up this mess a little before we get out of here.” He got a broom and swept up the glass, then threw it in the trash. Then he grabbed his bags, placing them near the door before helping Hans get to his feet.

They left the house, and Malcolm locked the door. They rode to Hans’s house in near silence. Malcolm couldn’t help ruminating over what could have happened.

“I fully expected him to shoot,” he said quietly just before turning into the driveway. “You should have gotten away if you could have.” Malcolm pulled the car to a stop.

“Did you think I was going to let that bastard take you and not do something about it?” Hans snapped. “Are you daft? Because that wasn’t going to happen.” Hans took his hand as soon as Malcolm turned off the engine. “What the hell is wrong, Malcolm? You look like I just told you that the moon is made of cheese.”

“I do believe you. I don’t understand why.”

Hans pulled his hand away and got out of the car, then closed his door with more force than necessary. Malcolm watched him walk across the headlight beams and then go into the house. He wondered if he should go home. He was tired beyond belief, and this whole thing with Gary had left him feeling older than he had in a very long time. He cared about Hans, and yes, he loved him, but he hadn’t been able to protect him.

A tap on the window brought his attention to Hans.

“Are you coming inside?” Hans asked when Malcolm lowered the glass.

Malcolm opened the door and got out, then lifted his bags from the backseat. “Maybe I should go home and let you get some rest.”

Hans stepped closer. “Maybe you should stop thinking about whatever is rolling around in that brilliant mind of yours and come inside.” Hans stepped back, pulling Malcolm along with his intense gaze.

Malcolm closed the car doors and followed Hans back into the house.

“You really need to let go of this age thing. It’s not an issue to anyone except you.” Hans closed the door. “Unless of course I’m not mature enough for you and you really need someone your own age.”

Malcolm set the bags on the sofa. “I couldn’t protect you from Gary.”

“First, neither of us knew we needed protecting from the little nutball. And second, this is a relationship. We’re not cavemen, and I’m not the little woman who needs to be taken care of. In case you haven’t realized it, we worked together. You held Gary’s attention so he wasn’t watching me the whole time, and I was able to take him out. I’d say that was pretty special.”

Malcolm couldn’t argue with that. “But I have to ask you something. I’m a decade older than you. That means that there’s every chance I’ll get sick eventually, and you’ll need to take care of me. I did that for David because I loved him, but it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. And I don’t want you to have to do that for me. It ripped my heart out every day to see him slipping further and further away from me by inches. I don’t want to have to go through that again, and I don’t want someone I love to have to do that for me.”

“You know that doesn’t matter.”

“But it does. I watched David die slowly, and it nearly killed me.”

“Malcolm,” Hans said gently. “We don’t get to choose what happens to us, including whether we get cancer or some other disease. That’s all part of life. You know that. But if you stop living, then you’re giving up on everything and everyone, and I doubt that’s what you want.”

“I don’t. I’ve been happy. You make me happy, and I love you for bringing joy back to my life. But what if it ends?”

“And what if it doesn’t?” Hans countered. “What if we get another twenty or thirty years together, and then we both die in our sleep because of some rare disease that only two people who love each other can get that makes them die at the same time?” Hans was being silly, but he was trying to make a point, so Malcolm kept his mouth shut. “Does it really matter?”

Malcolm had to admit that it really didn’t, because the thought of going home and leaving Hans behind made his heart ache and ice water race through his veins. “I don’t want it to.”

“Then it doesn’t. It’s as simple as that. Because I love you too, and I think you’re sexy, fun, and amazing to talk with, and I want to spend years getting to know you. I think it will take that long.”