Fahey's Flaw (3 page)

He entered the school office and spoke with a secretary he knew.

“Hi, Detective Fahey.” The pretty young woman smiled at him. “You’re early today. Or does Connor have an appointment?”

“Hey, Marsha. Nope, I’m here in an official capacity today. Maybe you can help me figure out who I need to speak with.” He gave her a condensed version of his spiel and handed over one flyer. He placed the bag with the rest of them on her counter.

She read it thoughtfully. “Wow. This is incredible. Let me run it past Principal Andrews and see what he says.”

“Thank you.”

She took the sheet of paper and disappeared into the office behind hers. A few minutes later she returned with the principal.

“Wynn! How are you?” He extended his hand and they shook.

“Hey, Tim. Doing fine, thanks. I see Marsha showed you the flyer. We’d like to send one home with each student in grades eight through twelve and see if we can get the word out there about how dangerous this stuff is.” He mentioned a few of the specifics.

Tim Andrews nodded. “I think it’s a great idea but I can’t answer you today. The board will have to make a decision about it before we can send them home. Might be two weeks or so.”

“Two weeks?” Wynn was stunned. “You’re kidding me. This is a time-sensitive issue. A student here in Kansas City was hospitalized because of this junk and we’re trying to make sure no one else follows suit.”

“Yeah, I get that. But I know some of the board members, and they’re going to say that bringing this drug to the kids’ attention is basically introducing it to them. The cheap price will appeal to some kids. This flyer could cause them to seek out the drug when they hadn’t known about it before.”

“Did you miss the part about organ failure, permanent damage and possible death?”

“Nope, but I’m sure plenty of the kids will overlook that. You know teenagers, Wynn. They’re invincible. Nothing’s going to happen to them.”

“Wow. Okay. Am I the only parent who makes sure his kid doesn’t feel that way? Con knows better than most that it can be an ugly world out there, and no one is immune to it.”

The principal smiled. “Connor is a lucky kid, because he has you to talk to about that stuff. Not all our kids are so fortunate. Look, I’m not saying we won’t do this. I just have to run it past the board. Part of the process when dealing with a private school. You can either leave the flyers and we’ll pass them out when we can, or Marsha can call and ask you to bring them back.”

“I can leave them. Thanks, Tim. We need everyone we can get going to bat for us about this nasty business.” He pushed the bag of flyers toward the secretary.

“If we can’t use them, we’ll call you. But we should be able to.” The principal extended his hand again.

Wynn shook hands and thanked him. He nodded to Marsha as he left then, slightly frustrated, shoved the door to the office a little harder than he meant to.

“Whoa!” A man on the other side of the door had been carrying an armload of books and papers, which he promptly dropped.

“Oh, shit! Sorry.” Wynn scrubbed a hand over his face, embarrassed at the stupid stunt.

The man chuckled. “Language like that will get you a demerit. Five demerits equal the loss of—”

“A privilege. I’m aware. And God bless the advent of email, so my kid’s teachers can notify us each time he loses something.” He squatted down to pick up the books and papers that had scattered. “Really sorry about this. Guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The red-haired stranger crouched before him and gazed into his eyes. “No big deal. I was turning this stuff in to Marsha, anyway. It only took me three hours to sort it and categorize everything exactly like I needed it.”

Wynn looked into his bright green eyes and had a tough time looking away. He tried to focus on the words the hunk had spoken and not his sexy pink lips, surrounded by a neatly trimmed mustache and beard. “Three hours? Damn, I’m really sorry.”

Scooping the last of the papers up, the fellow stood. “Not really. Just giving you shit. I thought I’d see how quickly you could get to five demerits. I’m still wagering it’ll go fast.”

Smiling sheepishly, Wynn rose and faced the man who was just his height. “Like father, like son, I guess.”

“Who’s your son?”

“Connor Fahey. He’s in eighth grade.”

“Ah-ha, of course. I know Connor. I have him in English class.”

“Really? I’m surprised we haven’t met. I usually go to his parent teacher conferences, but there are so many teachers to talk to when they reach the middle grades, maybe I missed you.”

“Actually, I had to be gone during the most recent conferences due to a family emergency.”

“I’m sorry. Now that you mention it, I’m pretty sure I missed the conferences before that. Work, you know.” He smiled sheepishly.

The teacher returned the smile and shuffled his load to one arm so he could extend a hand. “Reilly O’Keefe. And truth be known, I don’t think I’ve had to email you once this year. Connor’s a good kid.”

Wynn clasped his hand and an electric spark shot up his arm. He released it quickly and attempted to straighten the books he held. When he realized the guy was staring at him he said, “He is. Oh! I’m Wynn Fahey.”

“Nice to meet you. I think I’ve met your wife. Pretty brunette, drives a Lincoln Town Car?”

Clearing his throat, Wynn replied, “Ex-wife. She drove a hatchback when she was married to me. She moved up and I moved…on.” He shrugged.

“O-kay, then. Sorry about that. Here’s to moving on. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Fahey.” He reached for the things Wynn held.

Handing them over, Wynn replied, “Detective Fahey. Or Wynn. You can call me Wynn.”
You can call me anytime
. He tried to remain focused, but his heartbeat sounded unnaturally loud to his ears. He needed to get the hell out of there and on with his day, but for some reason he was dragging his feet.

“Wynn.” Reilly’s smile hadn’t wavered. “I like that. It was nice to meet you, Wynn. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He nodded toward the office.

“Oh, sure. Sorry again, about ramming into you.”

“No worries. I’ve always enjoyed a good ramming. And yeah, that earned me five demerits, right there.” He winked and turned around, then entered the office.

Wynn watched him go, trying to keep his mouth from hanging open. One thing he couldn’t control was his cock, which was rapidly firming up in his trousers.
What the hell just happened?
He wasn’t sure, but for a moment he wondered if he stood there long enough, could it happen again?

Chapter Two

Wynn had better luck at some schools than others, but at the end of the day felt satisfied that he’d done his part to get word of the new drug out there. He touched base with the chief and Mel before he headed home for the night.

His house was a seventies, ranch-style single level that suited him just fine. A bedroom for him, one for Con and a third he’d converted into a home office. There was a single garage, which was all he needed. He knew Con’s mother’s house was three times as grand but he didn’t want or need that much space.

He ate some leftover chicken and a salad that looked too much like vegetables for Con to touch. A half-hour later he changed into shorts and a T-shirt and went for a long run. Trying to clear his head, he couldn’t keep images from circling his brain and heading south.

Reilly O’Keefe’s face as they crouched together, gazes locked. His crystal-clear green eyes and sculpted jaw line, accented by a neatly trimmed beard. Reilly telling him that he’d always enjoyed a good ramming.

What the devil did that mean?
His imagination ran wild during his run and he worked up a sweat, not just from the exercise. He needed to peel off his clothes and step into the shower, where he could relieve his sexual frustration. He’d never remembered being attracted to a ginger before, but damned if he wasn’t hot as hell for this one.

He’d managed to keep his urges under control with regular hand jobs, especially considering his long, dry spell. But since he’d run into Reilly, literally, he felt wired up, like his motor was running and he needed to let off some major steam in a big way.

Wynn shrugged off his shirt and tossed it in the hamper just as his phone rang. He grabbed it and looked at the screen.

Sydney.
Groaning, he pressed the ‘Answer’ button. “Hey, Syd.”

“Wynn. We need to talk about Con and the party he wants to go to Saturday night. He mentioned he asked you to call me.” Her voice was shrill and annoying as hell. He wondered if he’d grown used to it all those years ago, or if her tone had changed over time.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’ve been busy. Actually, I didn’t figure there was much point in discussing it if you don’t want him to go.”

“It’s not just me, Wynn. Derrick agrees it’s not a good idea, and so does Cissy Baxter.”

“Is ‘Cissy’ really a grown woman’s name?”

“Focus, Wynn.”

“Aw, come on, now. To be honest, Derrick would agree with you if you told him the sky was purple with black polka dots. And any adult who goes by ‘Cissy’ can probably be talked into anything.”

“Do you know what your problem is, Wynn?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“You’re too laid-back. It’s a character flaw.”

“Thanks for that. Anything else you called to bitch about, or does that pretty much cover it?”

“You’re a pain in my side, Wynn Fahey. I’m trying to include you because it’s the best thing for Con, but you don’t make it easy.”

“You’re trying to include me because the judge said you have to. And the pain goes both ways, sister. Only I was thinking of a spot slightly lower than my side.”

She gave an audible sigh. “Do you take anything seriously or is life just a big joke to you? When you have children, Wynn, you can’t be so
laissez-faire
about things. Sometimes you just have to pull your big boy panties up and deal with stuff.”

“Well, gee, Syd. I would, but I stopped wearing underwear a long time ago.” He couldn’t resist the jab, and only wished he was there in person to watch the smoke escape from her ears.

“I’m hanging up now. You can tell Con we discussed the party and it’s not happening. You’ll pick him up Friday after school and bring him home Sunday by noon. And I swear to God, Wynn, if I so much as hear a whisper that you let him go to that party, I’ll have you back in court so fast your head will spin.”

“Don’t worry, dear. I never thought his going was a good idea to begin with. You just didn’t bother to ask how I felt about it. I’ll get him Friday. Have a nice weekend.” He ended the call and tossed the phone on his bed.

Whatever boner he’d had was long since forgotten after the conversation with Syd. He kicked out of his shorts and boxers and headed to take a much less steamy shower than he’d originally planned.

* * * *

Thursday morning, Wynn continued making rounds to the private schools while Mel visited their public counterparts. He’d just stopped for lunch when he cell rang with an unknown number. “Fahey,” he answered.

“Detective Fahey, this is Reilly O’Keefe from St. Sebastian’s Academy. I don’t know if you remember me.”

Remember you? Are you fucking kidding?
Wynn cleared his throat. “Mr. O’Keefe, of course. Has anyone knocked you off your feet today?”

Reilly chuckled. “No one as good-looking as the guy who did it yesterday.”

Wynn’s eyes bugged as he realized what he’d said.
Shit.
“Well, that didn’t come out exactly like it sounded in my head.” Yet the man’s reply intrigued him.
Could Reilly be gay?
He struggled to bring the conversation back around to safer territory. “I feel lousy about that, you know. I really am sorry.”

“I’m not. It made for a memorable first encounter.”

Something about the way he said it made Wynn wonder if they might have a
second
encounter. “Okay, then. Good.”

“So listen. I spoke with Tim Andrews about the reason for your visit yesterday. The flyers are a good start, but I think we can do more. This is something I feel strongly about, and I was hoping we might get together to discuss it. Unfortunately, I don’t get a lunch hour, per se. It’s more like thirty minutes and some days twenty. So I was wondering about dinner.”

Startled, Wynn could only repeat, “Dinner?”

Reilly chuckled again. “Yeah, the meal at the end of the day, you know, after you’re done working?”

“I know
what
it is. I was just a little surprised. I might be able to do dinner. I guess it depends when you were thinking.”

“Well, tonight is pretty short notice. What about tomorrow night?”

Wynn’s mind raced. “Uh, can’t do tomorrow. Picking up Con for the weekend. I’m actually free tonight if you wanted to shoot for that. This is a time-sensitive business, so the sooner the better would probably be good.”

“I totally agree, the sooner the better. Tonight works just fine. You name the restaurant and I’ll find it.”

Since he didn’t eat out much, Wynn scrambled to come up with a place. Jeff Taylor’s boyfriend’s pub came to mind and he said, “What about the Cock and Bull British Pub on Troost? They have good food, and it’s a nice atmosphere. I know the guy who owns it.”

“Oh, sure. I’ve been there a couple of times. The food is good. I can be there at six or after, how about you?”

“Six is good, that’ll give me just enough time to go home and change.”

“Into something more comfortable?” Reilly teased.

Wynn pretended to ignore the meaning of the comment. “Jeans are always more comfortable than work clothes. I’ll see you at six, then?”

“Looking forward to it. Bye.” Reilly ended the call.

Still holding the phone to his ear, Wynn thought about everything Reilly had said.
Something he feels strongly about.
Was the meeting strictly business, or did the sexy teacher have an ulterior motive in mind? Was he reading meaning into the subtle comments or could Reilly actually be gay…and interested?

Those thoughts niggled at the back of his mind for the rest of the afternoon. His heart warred with a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Even if he is gay, there’s nothing we can do about it.
Ever the analyzer, he made a mental list of the reasons why not.