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Ray looked down in horror at the dark brown puddle spreading around his feet. “Jesus! Watch where you're going!” He lifted a foot, shaking off droplets of coffee.
“Oh, man, I’m sorry.”
He froze, wide eyes lifting at the familiar voice. “Kowalski?”
Blue eyes looked back at him, just as surprised. “Ah, shit,” he muttered with a wince before thinning his lips into a tight smile. “Uh, hey Vecchio.”
It had been months since he’d last seen Kowalski, not since the showdown with Muldoon at the mall. Shrugging off his shock, Ray snapped his mouth shut, looking at Kowalski with an irritated squint.
“Shouldn't you be wearing your glasses?”
Kowalski's shoulders hitched up to his ears. “They’re not an everyday thing.”
“Maybe you should think about making them one.” His lips twisted wryly. “This is great. First, you drove my car into Lake Michigan. Now you've drowned my brand new pair of shoes.”
Kowalski's jaw tightened. “Hey, first of all, it was on fire—what else was I supposed to do? Second, you bumped into me. Third, your shoes will dry; they'll be fine.”
“Yeah? What about my coffee?” He waved his hand at the soaked ground. “Am I supposed to slurp it up off the pavement?”
Kowalski rolled his eyes, crouching down to pick up the empty paper cup. “Quit bitching.” He tossed it in the bin, then pulled open the door of the coffee shop. “Come on, I'll buy you a new one.”
“Gonna buy me a new Riv too?” Ray grumbled as he walked past Kowalski inside.
…
Balling up a napkin, Ray tossed it onto the table, along with the pile of others he’d used to dab at his shoe. He frowned down at the streak he couldn’t seem to get rid of. They were going to need a proper polish. Great.
A cup of coffee was placed on the table. He looked up as Kowalski slid into the seat across from him.
“There you go, Vecchio. Happy now?”
Ray scowled at him, holding up his shoe. “What do you see, Kowalski?”
Kowalski froze, lips pursed, ready to blow on his coffee. He squinted at Ray. “Uh, a shoe?”
“Yeah. And what don't you see?”
Kowalski's eyes flicked from the shoe to Ray's face, then back again. “This a trick question?”
“Your face. That's what you don't see. The leather is supposed to shine.” He bent down, shoving the shoe back on his foot.
“Christ, Vecchio. Get over it. It's a shoe. Look at mine.” He lifted his mud-caked boot on the empty chair between them. “Been wearing the same pair for ten years. Must've stepped in a thousand puddles, among other things, and you don’t see me complaining.”
“That something to be proud of?” Ray wrinkled his nose, using a rolled-up newspaper to shove Kowalski’s boot off the chair. “Some of us have standards.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kowalski lifted his cup to his mouth, barely covering a grin. “I know. Style Pig.”
Ray rolled his eyes. Popping the lid off his cup, he stirred in a packet of sugar, then took a sip. “So, I heard you were back at the 3-2. I’m a little surprised, thought we lost you to the Great White North.”
Kowalski snorted. “No chance.” He shook his head, emptying three packets of sugar into his own coffee. “Don’t get me wrong—it was amazing. A once-in-a-lifetime experience. And I mean once. I’m glad I did it, but I’m glad to be home, you know.”
Ray grunted a laugh. “I hear you. It’s beautiful up there, but damn brutal. The two times I went up almost killed me.” He raised his cup in salute. “So congrats on making it back in one piece.”
“Thanks.”
They both took a sip at the same time.
“Hey, uh,” Kowalski cleared his throat. “I just want to say, I did take good care of it. Or, at least, I tried to.”
“Huh?”
“The Riv.”
“Oh.”
“I knew going in that the car was central to the whole Ray Vecchio image.” He waved a hand at Ray. “And I get how important a guy’s car can be to him. I’m telling you, I took it seriously—not a scratch, not a ding, not even a smudge until—”
“Fraser.” Ray’s lips twitched, and he let out a wistful sigh. “Yeah, he tends to have that effect on Rivs. You know the one you drove into the lake was my third? Two separate Rivs got blown up within a year of knowing the guy. Technically, the second time wasn’t Benny’s fault, but I swear there’s something cosmic going on there; Rivs and Fraser can’t exist in the same zip code for too long. It almost feels like the universe is trying to tell me I can’t have the two things that I l—”
He cut himself off, faking a cough. Picking up his cup, he busied his mouth by taking a drink, hoping that the chatter in the coffee shop would drown out what was unsaid.
“Anyway,” Ray said gruffly, avoiding Kowalski’s eyes. “No hard feelings. Wasn’t your fault.” He waved a hand.
“Good,” Kowalski said after a beat, drumming his hands on the tabletop. “For what it’s worth, though, it was a beautiful car, and I’m really sorry about what happened to it.”
“I appreciate it,” Ray mumbled. His shoulders relaxed a little since it seemed Kowalski wasn’t going to push him about what he’d almost said. After all this time of keeping his feelings for Benny in, he couldn’t believe he’d nearly blurted it out—to Kowalski, of all people.
The guy who had borrowed his life for a year, then ran off on a wild adventure with Fraser. Just the two of them out in the wilderness for months. Out in the cold, sharing a tent. Ray had to wonder if Fraser had ever tried his ‘close body contact’ line on Kowalski. If they had—
“You get a new one yet?”
Ray blinked, shifting in his seat. “Riv? Nah. I’ve done some looking around, but they aren’t exactly easy to track down. It was a miracle I got lucky enough to find the ones I did.” His shoulders slumped. “I don’t know, been thinking maybe it’s just not meant to be. Some things you just can’t have no matter how bad you want ‘em.”
“I hear that.” Kowalski’s gaze drifted toward the window for a quiet beat. “You keeping in touch with Fraser?”
Ray took a long drink of his coffee, trying not to think about why his words might’ve made Kowalski bring up Fraser. “Yeah.” A smile flickered across his face. “He sends me these long, detailed letters about what he’s up to—most of it is written in Fraser-speak, so I don’t know half of what he’s talking about.”
Kowalski chuckled, head bobbing.
“And he gives me a call now and again when he finds the time to climb a pole." He chuckled. "He seems to be doing okay. Back in his element.”
Kowalski smirked. “His element, I guess that's it.” He leaned forward, wrapping his hands around his cup. “He was starting to get a little down here in Chicago at the end. Homesick, I guess. But as soon as he landed on all that snow, it was like a switch flipped. He was a different person. Well, not really different—Fraser can't be anybody but Fraser—but it was just…” He shook his head, “I don't know, more himself, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, sure.”
A heaviness settled in Ray’s gut, thinking about how Kowalski got to see a different side of Fraser than he ever did. Sure, Ray had gotten a glimpse of the life he had up there—from what he’d seen, it looked sad and small, despite all that wide open space. But there had to be more to it for him to go back. Something more than what he had here. It hurt to picture it—Fraser out there, freer than he’d ever been around him. It hurt to think he might not have known the real Benny. Not all of him. Not the way Kowalski did anyway.
He coughed away the ache in his chest. “Anyway, I should get going. Thanks for the coffee.” There was a squelch as he stood up. “I’ll bill you for the shoes.”
Kowalski snorted, standing up as well. “Yeah, you do that.” He stuck out his hand. “Take it easy, Vecchio.”
“You too.” He gave Kowalski’s hand a quick shake before making his way out of the coffee shop.
Stepping into the cool morning air, he took a deep breath. Running into Kowalski had been in the back of his mind ever since he’d learned he was back in the city; all things considered, it wasn’t that bad. Still, he didn’t want to make a habit of it. Maybe he’d have to think about going to a new coffee place. He just hoped Chicago would be big enough for the two of them.
…
Every Saturday, 2:00 pm, Chicago time, found Ray waiting for the phone to ring. It made him feel a little bad for the way he’d teased Frannie and Maria for doing the same kind of thing when they were kids. He was worse now than they ever were; palms sweaty, leg jiggling, eyes flicking between the phone and the clock. He couldn’t help it. Saturdays at two were his scheduled calls with Fraser.
Eyes watching the minute hand inch closer to twelve, his fingers twitched in anticipation. Ray grinned as the trill of the phone came.
Right on time. Punctual as ever, Benny.
It took everything in him not to snatch up the receiver before the first ring even finished. But he held back, waiting for a respectable three rings.
“Benny! How’s it going up there?”
“Hello, Ray.”
Warmth spread in Ray’s chest. He could picture the smile on Fraser’s face.
“Everything is well here. How are you?”
Pressing the phone close to his ear, Ray relaxed back into the couch cushion and sighed. “I’m good, Benny.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Closing his eyes, Ray listened to the sound of Fraser’s breathing under the static and wind for a moment, imagining he was next to him, parked in the Riv, a quiet moment during a stakeout.
“Ray? Are you there?”
Heat prickled up Ray’s neck. “Uh, yeah. I’m here.” He shifted in his seat, trying to drag his mind back to the present. “So, listen, uh, I know it’s only October, but Ma’s been bugging me about asking if you maybe want to come down for Christmas. She likes to start planning the menu early, you know.”
Heart-tripping static was his only answer for a moment. The crackle of the line always made Ray afraid of losing the connection. He squeezed the phone tighter as if he could keep the call from dropping.
“Oh.” Fraser cleared his throat. “Well, that’s a very kind offer. And I would love to attend, but I’m afraid, as the only officer without family, I felt it was my duty to volunteer to work over the holidays.”
“Of course you did,” Ray muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, a smile forming despite himself. “I figured it was a long shot.”
“Please extend my apologies to your mother. I do wish I could be there.”
“Sure thing,” Ray said with a sigh. He wanted to argue the ‘without family’ point; tell him he had a whole big, obnoxiously loving family waiting for him in Chicago, all he had to do was come back.
But if Benny was happy where he was, Ray would just have to learn to be happy for him.
“I heard that you ran into Ray. Er, Ray Kowalski.”
Ray tensed a little.
Only one person Fraser could’ve heard that from. Which meant that he talked to Kowalski before him. He wondered if they had a dedicated day and time too. Or maybe Kowalski was a higher priority. Maybe they talked every day.
Cut it out.
He took a breath, let it go.
“He ran into me, actually.”
Fraser chuckled, and the warmth flickered back into Ray’s chest.
“Yes, he was terribly sorry about your shoes.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Other than that, he said that it was a pleasant interaction. I must say, it makes me glad to know that the two of you got along. I had hoped you could become friends.”
Ray’s shoulders slumped. Friends with Kowalski? Sure, he seemed like an okay guy, but… Did they really need to be friends? It’s not like they worked together or anything. Maybe if Fraser were still here in Chicago, Ray could understand why he'd want the two most important people in his life to get along. But he wasn’t. He had chosen to go back up north. It shouldn’t make a difference to him whether or not Ray and Kowalski were friends if he wasn’t even around.
Except it did apparently. And unfortunately for Ray, he had never been able to deny Fraser anything.
But he wasn't sure about this. Being around Kowalski just felt...weird. For two guys who barely knew each other, they had a fair amount of baggage between them. Ray'd rather just shove it all under the bed than unpack any of it.
Still, Ray couldn't find it in him to outright say no to him.
“Yeah, friends. Sure," he said, rubbing his temples. He coughed. "Anyway—enough about that. Tell me what’s going on up there.”
Ray happily listened to Fraser ramble about everything and nothing until the line crackled one last time, then went dead. Sighing, he set the phone gently back in its cradle. He checked the clock—2:32.
Only a hundred and sixty-seven hours and twenty-eight minutes until the next call.
…
A few weeks later, Ray was sitting at his desk, chicken pecking up a report on the computer when the thing chimed at him. Blinking, he jerked back.
“What the hell was that?” He tapped the side of the monitor. “Something wrong with this thing? It better not eat my report.”
A snort of laughter erupted from the desk opposite him. Ray glared at Moreno, the twenty-six-year-old rookie Welsh had partnered him with last month. It must be punishment for something, but he just wasn’t sure what.
“You’ve got mail.”
“Huh?”
“E-mail, Vecchio.”
“Oh.” Ray’s eyes flicked back to the screen, noticing the little icon that had popped up in the corner. “Right. I knew that.”
Squinting at the screen, Ray clicked on the little envelope.
From: Kowalski, R. <[email protected]>
Sent: Thursday, November 4, 1999 3:42 PM
To: Vecchio, R. <[email protected]>
Subject: riv
Got a lead on a 1971 Buick Riviera in Kalamazoo. Needs some work, but runs. Interested?
A shiver ran through him at the idea of slipping behind the wheel of a Riv again. He hovered over the reply button, but didn’t click it, picking up the phone instead. Asking the operator to connect him to Detective Kowalski at the 32nd, he tapped a pencil against his desk as he waited for him to pick up.
“Ve—Kowalski.”
Ray winced in sympathy as Kowalski corrected himself; he knew the struggle of shaking off a persona.
“Uh, what can I do for you?”
He cleared his throat. “If you’re messing with me about this Riv, I’m going to wring your scrawny neck.”
There was a quiet beat on the other end, followed by a chuckle. “I take it you got my e-mail, then. So, you interested?”
“Does a Mountie always say ‘thank you kindly?’ Of course, I’m interested! How’d you find it?”
“I know a guy.”
“Mysterious.” Ray grabbed his notepad. “This guy got a name? Address?”
A pause, then, “You busy Saturday?”
“No,” Vecchio said slowly, pencil hovering over the notepad. “Why?”
“Great. I’ll pick you up around noon.”
“Oh, uh, you don’t have to do that.”
Kowalski sighed. “Listen, the guy that I know is my cousin. I can get you a deal. Besides, you’re gonna need a ride if you want to drive the Riv back to Chicago, so…”
Ray closed his eyes. Do it for the Riv.
I had hoped you could become friends.
Do it for Benny.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Kowalski. I’d appreciate it.”
“Was that so hard?” Kowalski huffed. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Yeah. See ya, then.”
The reluctant smile slid off his face after he hung up.
Shit, Saturday. No way were they making it back from Kalamazoo in time for his call with Fraser.
He could always take the call on his cell, he supposed. But those conversations were private—just for the two of them. The idea of Kowalski, or anyone, listening in felt wrong.
His stomach dropped.
Benny and the Riv.
Destined to be forever at odds, it seemed.
…
“Ray! What a surprise,” Fraser’s delighted voice sprang from the other line.
“Back at ya,” Ray said, lips curving in a grin. When he’d called the detachment, he hadn’t actually expected Fraser to be there. He was never there, always out in the field. “I thought I was going to have to leave a message.”
“Message?”
“Yeah, uh, I won’t be able to make our call this week.”
“Oh?”
The disappointment in Fraser’s voice sliced Ray clean in half; most of him hated letting Benny down, and some smaller, selfish part warmed at knowing Fraser looked forward to their talks just as much as he did.
“Yeah. Kowalski and I are taking a trip to Kalamazoo to check out a Riv.”
“Oh!” Fraser brightened immediately. “Well, that’s wonderful!”
“I don’t know about wonderful, but it’s promising. Hopefully it’s not in too bad shape.”
“Yes, of course—the car. I hope it meets your expectations. And that you and Ray enjoy your trip together.”
Ray’s lips slanted downward at the sound of Fraser’s eagerness; it really did mean something to him that he and Kowalski got along. Guess that meant he’d have to try a little harder.
He sighed. “I’m sure it’ll be good.”
“I’m afraid I must be going. Safe travels, Ray. I’ll speak to you next week.”
“Bye, Benny.”
…
Ray looked at his watch, careful not to spill the coffee he was holding in each hand.
12:16.
He tapped his foot, craning his neck up and down the street. A few minutes later, a sharp double-honk made him glance up just as a black Pontiac GTO swung toward the curb.
Ray leaned down to the open passenger’s side window. “You own a watch?”
“I said ‘around noon’.” Kowalski flitted a hand in the air. “Still well within the ballpark. You getting in, or what?”
Blowing out a breath, Ray handed Kowalski one of the coffees through the window. “Here.”
“Thanks.” He perked up.
“Don’t get too excited—it’s cold.” He opened the door and slid inside.
“As long as it’s not decaf, I’m all over it.” Lifting the cup to his mouth with one hand, Kowalski jerked back into traffic with the other.
…
“Want some?”
Ray’s eyes dropped to the packet of Juicy-Fruit that Kowalski shoved under his nose. “No, thanks. My dentist would kill me.”
“Huh.” Kowalski tossed the pack onto the console, blowing a bubble. “You know,” he scratched at his chin in contemplation. “I’ve never had a cavity.”
Ray gaped at him. “You're kidding. With all that sugar you eat?”
“Just lucky, I guess.” The gum snapped between his teeth as he shot Ray a grin.
Ray grunted and watched the scenery blur by for a moment. Okay, make an effort. Talk about something other than dental hygiene.
“So, what are the Kalamazoo Kowalskis like?”
“Rutecki. Mom’s side of the family.” Kowalski adjusted his grip on the wheel. “I don’t really see much of them these days. We all used to get together for holidays and stuff when I was a kid, but nobody’s really around anymore. Rodney—my cousin with the Riv—he’s the only one left there. Uncle Jim passed a few years back, and my aunt Nora moved out west to live with her daughter.” He shrugged, steering the GTO around a curve.
“And your folks, they're in Arizona, right?” he asked, cobbling together what he knew about Kowalski’s life from second-hand information.
“Yeah. Moved down there after my dad retired.”
“They come back up for Christmas?”
Kowalski snorted, head shaking. “No way. They barely like visiting in good weather. Chicago winters were one of the main reasons they moved down there.”
“Oh.”
Ray had spent most of his life practically suffocated by family on every side of him. Until Vegas, he’d never known what it was like to spend the holidays alone—sure, he’d wished for peace and quiet now and then, but he’d never imagined how terrible the silence could feel. It was the loneliness that really choked you.
Maybe that was something Kowalski understood about Fraser in a way Ray never really could before.
“Mind if I turn the radio up?” Kowalski asked, already reaching for the dial.
“It’s your car.” Ray winced as music blared from the speakers. His ears would just have to deal with it.
…
Ray’s heart sank at the sight of the busted-up 1971 Buick Riviera. Gold paint chipped and freckled with rust. A broken taillight. A dented hood. A crack spiderwebbing through the windshield.
It was a tragedy.
“I, uh…I told you it needed some work.”
“Some?” Ray’s eyes bugged.
Kowalski waved a hand. “Don’t worry—this is just cosmetic stuff.” He twirled a set of keys around his finger and then tossed them to Ray. “It’s the inside that counts.”
Catching them, Ray pulled open the driver’s side door, grimacing at the metal squeal. The upholstery was shot too—rips and cracks all down the vinyl. Still, a strange sense of calm settled over him as he lowered himself into the seat.
“It’s not too bad,” Kowalski said, sliding into the passenger side.
Ray let out a soft laugh as he traced the empty lighter socket. “No lighter. Of course.”
“So I’ll get Hot Rod to knock off another fifty.” Kowalski nudged his arm. “Go on—start ’er up.”
Ray took a deep breath and turned the key. The engine knocked and spluttered before letting out a final cough and dying. He cut a long, dubious look at Kowalski.
“Okay,” Kowalski said, lifting both hands. “So maybe I can get him down another hundred or two.”
…
“I’m not sure about this,” Ray said, rubbing the back of his neck as they sat in Rodney’s office, waiting for him to dig up some paperwork.
“It’s a good deal, Vecchio. Relax.”
“Hm.”
They’d talked Rodney down to four hundred dollars, and he’d thrown in a free tow—no way that hunk of metal was making it back to Chicago on its own.
“But how much am I gonna have to sink into it just to make it drivable?”
Kowalski pursed his lips. “You know, I could help you out. I’m good with cars.”
Ray glanced at him sideways, brow lifting. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. My dad and I built the GTO from the ground up. I could put an engine together blindfolded.” He shrugged. “So, mostly you’re just paying for parts. Shouldn’t be too bad.”
“You’d really do that? Waste your free time fixing up my car for nothing?”
“Wouldn’t be a waste.” Kowalski leaned back and propped his boots on the desk. “I love working on cars. Besides, it’s not like my dance card’s full these days. But I can’t do it all myself—I’ll need an assistant. What do you say, Vecchio? You know your way around a socket wrench?”
Ray’s mouth tugged upward to match Kowalski’s grin. “You got a deal.”
…
Music was playing when Ray stepped into the detached garage of the Vecchio house. Kowalski was already there, completely at home. Ray tried to be annoyed that the guy was taking such liberties in his space, but couldn’t quite get there. Kowalski had been a big help—more than help. And Ray was actually enjoying tinkering on the Riv with him.
Dirty boots were sticking out from under the car, Kowalski’s top half eaten up by the undercarriage.
“Midnight golf, huh? Sounds like a blast.”
Ray frowned—who the hell was he talking to?
Ray looked around the empty garage as he shucked off his jacket.
“Can’t wait.” The creeper rolled out, and Kowalski’s head appeared, cellphone held to his ear. “Oh, hey, Vecchio’s here.” He acknowledged Ray with a smile and nod. Taking the phone away from his mouth, he said, “Fraser says hi.”
“Fraser’s on the phone?”
“Yeah, you want to—Oh, okay. Yeah. Me too.” The soft little smile on Kowalski’s lips made Ray’s stomach hurt. “I will. Later, Frase.” Closing the phone, he smashed the antenna down with his palm. “He had to go. Said he’ll talk to you Saturday.” Putting the phone down, he traded it for a wrench and dipped under the open hood.
Clearing his throat, Ray walked to the other side of the car. Leaning down on his elbows, he watched Kowalski work for a second. “So, uh, midnight golf? What was that about?”
Kowalski huffed a laugh, not looking up from the engine. “Yeah. Fraser was telling me about some things they do up there during the summer. You know, all those hours of daylight.”
“Oh.” Ray bobbed his head, lips pursing. “You planning a trip up there or something?”
“Taking a couple of weeks in July.”
“Hm. Did, uh, Benny invite you or…”
Kowalski paused, looking up, eyes squinting. “It’s something we had worked out before I left.”
“Huh.” Ray huffed. “So much for a ‘once-in-a-lifetime thing’ then.”
Kowalski’s knuckles flexed around the wrench, head cocking. “I was talking about mushing my ass off through the frozen tundra, didn’t mean I’d never go back for a visit. Besides, it’ll be summer. Completely different. I’m curious to see what was hiding under all that snow.”
“Right.”
Kowalski looked at him hard for a second, a grease-stained fingernail scratching at his cheek. “Something else you want to ask me there, Vecchio?”
Eyes dropping, Ray leaned farther under the hood, as if inspecting something. “Nah. Just making conversation.”
“Okay. I got one for you, then.”
“Shoot,” Ray said, voice casual, not looking up.
“Something I’ve been curious about.” Metal clinked as Kowalski leaned back into the engine. “Last I heard, you were trying to cozy up to my ex-wife. How’d that go?”
Ray’s head whipped up, smacking against the hood. “Shit,” he hissed, rubbing his scalp. “Jesus. Where the hell did that come from?”
Kowalski shrugged, teeth flashing. “Just making conversation.”
“That… didn’t work out,” Ray said, gaze falling again. “Stella’s great, but I wasn’t really ready for anything serious, you know, so soon after being under. We decided it was best to just be friends.”
Snickering, Kowalski swapped tools and then turned back to the engine. “Yeah, I know. My mom told me.”
“Your mom? Wha—”
“Now that we've got that out of the way.” Whipping a rag from his back pocket, he wiped his hands. “Why don’t you quit beating around the bush and just spit out what you want to ask?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ray mumbled, checking that the oil cap was on tight.
“Quit bullshitting.” Kowalski swatted Ray’s hand lightly with a screwdriver.
“Hey!” Ray shook his hand theatrically.
“Out with it, Vecchio.”
“Fine!” He raked a hand over his scalp, squeezing his eyes closed. “Are you… Is there…” Face twisting, he looked up at Kowalski. “Is there something going on with you and Fraser? More than…you know…friends?”
Lips pursed thoughtfully, Kowalski tapped the screwdriver against his hip. “Before Fraser, I only ever had one real best friend—hell, one real friend, period—and I married her. Look how that turned out.” He snorted softly. “No wife, no best friend. Stella can barely stand to be in the same room as me.” A rueful smile curved at the corner of his mouth. “I’m already a two-time loser, you think I would want to take a risk like that again?” He shook his head, smile turning brighter. “Besides, it’s just not like that. We’re buddies. Partners—even with a country between us.”
“Really?” Ray’s heart was thumping. “You don’t have feelings for him?”
“Not those kinds. I love the guy more than anything, but not like that.” He turned back to the engine. “Which is a good thing for me because I'm pretty sure he's hung up on somebody else.”
Bang.
“Christ, Vecchio, you trying to give yourself a concussion?”
…
Hung up on somebody else.
The words had been turning over and over in Ray’s head for days. Fraser hung up on somebody? Since when did Fraser hang up on anyone?
Only one person came to mind—and no way was Kowalski talking about her. Fraser had let go of that a long time ago. It had to be someone else. Ray had been in Vegas for over a year; it wasn’t impossible Fraser had met someone new.
He’d wanted to grill Kowalski about it, but a blinding need for aspirin had derailed him. When he returned to the garage, Kowalski was packing up; he’d gotten a call about a homicide and had been busy with the case ever since.
Ray thought about asking Benny directly, but lost his nerve every time. Instead, he ended up reading through his old letters, hunting for any hint—any slip—about someone special. The only person Fraser mentioned regularly was his long-lost sister, Maggie.
Ray scoffed. Fraser got a whole sister while Ray was gone. It killed him that he hadn’t been there for Benny when she showed up. He should’ve been.
What else had he missed?
Whoever it was, Ray just hoped they were good enough for him. Someone who would take care of him. If anyone deserved to be loved and cherished, it was Benny.
…
Dinner at the Vecchio house was always chaotic, but Christmas dinner was a particularly frenzied affair. On top of the already sizable number of immediate family members, there were aunts, uncles, and cousins—including second and third, along with all the other folks that were called ‘family.’ Then there were the strays Ma liked to take in; anyone she met who didn’t have plans was welcomed with open arms.
Which this year included Kowalski.
As soon as he stepped through the door, Ma Vecchio was squishing his face and crowing about how skinny he was.
“Oh, poor thing! I’m going to make sure you get an extra-large portion.”
Over her shoulder, Ray stifled a laugh. It was a Vecchio dinner—every portion was extra-large.
“Uh, thanks, Mrs. Vecchio,” Kowalski mumbled, lips pursed like a fish between her hands.
“Call me Ma.” She patted his cheek and bustled back to the kitchen.
Ray’s laughter finally gave way once she was gone.
“Jesus. That’s some grip she’s got.” Kowalski rubbed at his reddened cheeks.
“Yeah, all that stirring really helps upper body strength.” He clapped a hand on Kowalski’s shoulder. “I’m glad you could make it.”
He was a little surprised how true it was. Still tied up with a murder investigation, Ray hadn’t seen much of him the last couple of weeks. Restoration on the Riv had been delayed for the most part, making Ray realize just how much he’d been enjoying the task. And how, he had to admit, Kowalski wasn’t bad company.
“Thanks for having me.” Head ducking a little, his usually cocky smirk turned shy.
“Come on, let me take your coat. Make yourself at home.”
…
“I don’t know how you all stay so slim with the way your Ma cooks,” Kowalski said as Ray walked him to his car. Dirty slush from last week’s snow lined the street.
Ray chuckled, tugging his sweater tighter. “Like you with your cavity-free teeth—just lucky, I guess.”
Kowalski’s laugh misted in the cold as he hopped over a mound of icy sludge. “Sorry, I haven’t been able to work on the Riv much lately. This case, you know.”
Ray waved him off. “Are you kidding? Don’t worry about it. You’re doing me a favor just by helping. How’s the case going?”
Kowalski blew out a long breath. “Pretty gruesome. I’d much rather be under the Riv, trust me. Double homicide. Newlyweds. But we’re close to nailing the ex-husband, so hopefully it’ll be wrapped up soon.”
“Well, good luck. Hope you get the scumbag.” Ray slowed as they approached the parked GTO. “And thanks for coming tonight. Everybody loved having you.”
“Hey, hold up a sec,” Kowalski said, catching Ray’s sleeve and gently steering him closer to the car.
Ray glanced longingly toward the warm house. “What is it?”
Kowalski unlocked the door and ducked inside for a moment.
Ray frowned as Kowalski straightened up again, holding a small box wrapped in shiny red paper. “What’s this? You already gave me a gift.” He lifted his hands, still wearing the new gloves Kowalski had given him earlier—Saw these and thought of you. They match your shoes.
“This, uh… isn’t exactly from me.”
Ray’s frown deepened. He tore open the wrapping. “Where did this come from?” His voice dropped to a hush when he lifted the car lighter from the box.
“Fraser had it.”
“Fraser?”
“Yeah. I’ve got most of the stuff he left at the consulate stored at my place. He grabbed this before the Riv went into the water. He’s been holding onto it all this time.” Kowalski nodded at the lighter. “I guess you must’ve mentioned this Riv was missing one. He wanted you to have it. He said it’s—what’d he call it…” he scratched his chin. “Serenity? No, that wasn’t it.”
“Serendipity,” Ray said, holding up the lighter between his fingers, the silver glinting off the streetlight.
Kowalski snapped his fingers. “Yeah. That.”
Ray smiled, his eyes stinging, throat feeling tight. He didn’t feel the need to rush back inside anymore; his heart felt warm enough already.
…
Since Fraser had said he volunteered to work during the holidays, Ray hoped that meant he was hunkered down at the detachment—with a phone.
His heart leapt when the line clicked, and Fraser’s voice filled his ear.
“Merry Christmas, Benny.”
“Ray!” The formal tone he’d answered with melted instantly into something warmer. “Merry Christmas to you as well. It’s so good to hear your voice.”
Sinking back against his headrest, Ray sighed. “You too.” He smiled down at the lighter in his hand. “I got your present.”
“Oh?”
His fingers curled around the metal. “It’s just what I wanted. How’d you know?”
“It was just a hunch, I suppose.” Ray could hear the smile.
“A hunch?” He chuckled. “You’re something else, you know that, Benny?”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I mean, who else would think to grab a lighter while hurtling toward Lake Michigan at a hundred miles an hour?”
“Well, I knew how much difficulty you had locating one previously. And…” Fraser paused, voice softening. “I regretted yet another Riv having to be destroyed. I suppose I wanted you to have a piece of it, at least. I’m glad you’ve found a place to put it. How are the repairs going?”
“It’s good. Kowalski really knows his stuff.”
“Yes. Ray is a very knowledgeable mechanic. I’m glad to hear the two of you are making progress.”
“Yeah.” Ray sighed. “We’re getting there.”
…
“That was a great game,” Kowalski said, crawling forward in the traffic exiting the stadium garage.
Ray shot him an incredulous look from the passenger seat. “We got creamed.”
Kowalski shrugged, smiling. “Still great. Been too long since I’ve seen a game in person. Thanks again for the tickets.”
“No problem. And, thanks for inviting me to tag along. You could’ve given the ticket to anybody—I wasn’t hinting. It was a Christmas gift.”
“Pfft. Who else was I gonna bring?”
“I’m sure there’s somebody. Your partner? Could’ve celebrated solving the case.”
“She’s from Detroit.” Kowalski grimaced. “Pistons fan.”
Ray shuddered. “Sorry.”
“Hell of a cop, though.” Kowalski twirled the toothpick in his mouth. “Man, I’m starving. You want to grab a bite?”
“Yeah, I could eat.” Ray eyed the endless line of brake lights ahead. “If there’s a place still open by the time we get out of here.”
“Here.” Kowalski shook the pack of toothpicks at him. “Cinnamon. Might help take the edge off.”
Ray narrowed his eyes but took one, slipping it between his lips. “Hm. Thanks.”
They inched forward. Kowalski tapped a restless rhythm on the wheel to the headache-inducing beat of some punk track on the radio.
“You mind if we give it a rest for a bit?” Ray nodded at the speakers. “Maybe we can just talk.”
Kowalski frowned but flicked the radio off. “What do you want to talk about?”
Ray removed the toothpick and rolled it between his fingers, pressing his thumb to the point. “I wanted to ask about Fraser. About what you said.”
Kowalski’s brows knit.
“About him being hung up on somebody.”
“Oh.”
“So?”
“So what?”
Ray slapped a hand to his forehead. “So who is it?”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious!”
Kowalski studied him for a moment, then shook his head. “Sorry, Vecchio. Can’t do it. Not my place.”
“What, it wouldn’t be proper or something?” Ray scoffed. “You spent too much time with Benny. Come on, Kowalski. Just put me out of my misery.”
“No can do, Vecchio.” A gap opened in traffic, and Kowalski eased the GTO forward. “But hey, you’re a good detective, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
…
It was Thatcher!
It had to be. The Dragon Lady. Of course. How could it have taken him so long to see it?
The realization came to him when he was finally taking down the Christmas lights and almost lost his balance, arms windmilling like a lunatic—a memory flashed in his mind of Fraser and Thatcher signalling each other across a rooftop.
As much as he tried to brush it off back then, Ray couldn’t ignore the weird little Mountie mating ritual the two seemed to have going on—with their romantic train top kisses and sexy secret semaphore. When he gave it half a thought, it was obvious.
So that was it. Fraser was up north, pining and waiting for Thatcher to get back from her stint as an international woman of mystery so they could settle into some cabin and raise a few mini Mounties.
Or else he was already resigning himself to the idea that he’d missed his chance. With the way he held onto people, it would be years before he let go and opened his heart to anyone else.
Ah, Benny.
Why did he always fall for the most unattainable women? He deserved someone who would follow him to the ends of the earth. Someone who didn’t make him jump through hoops. Someone who’d jump onto a moving train for him.
He deserved to be happy.
That’s all Ray had wanted for him since the day they met.
…
“I figured it out,” Ray said, passing Kowalski a spark plug.
“Huh?”
“It’s Thatcher, right? That’s who Fraser’s hung up on?”
“The Ice Queen?” Kowalski looked up, face scrunched. “I mean… I guess they had a kind of—well, I wouldn’t call it flirting—but a vibe, maybe. Something going on anyway, but…”
“So it isn’t her?” Ray asked with a frown, stomach flipping.
“I didn’t say that.”
Ray frowned harder. “So it is her?”
Kowalski only shrugged.
Huffing, Ray wrung a greasy rag between his hands. “You know, I used to think Fraser was the most annoying man in the world, but you’re really coming for his title.”
Kowalski just laughed.
Ray snapped the rag at him.
…
“Nah, that’s not right.” Ray flipped through another stack of swatches.
“What about this one?” Kowalski tapped an impatient finger on a pale shade of green.
Ray made a face. “Are you kidding? That looks like something Maria’s kids spit up.” Another flip. “Eugh. Pea soup.”
“Does it really need to be exact? You’ve been hemming and hawing forever. Green is green!”
Ray leveled him with a stony glare. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. The color is important. It’s crucial. It just is. What if someone told you to paint the GTO schoolbus yellow?”
Kowalski recoiled.
“Exactly!” Ray rifled through the swatches again, growing more agitated. “What, did they discontinue it or something?”
“Hey—hey, Vecchio.” Kowalski nudged him with his elbow. “What about this one?”
Ray glanced over with a skeptical frown… then his eyes lit up. “Hey, that’s it! You found it!”
“Finally.” Kowalski grinned and lifted the swatch. “Hey, Arnie! We found it. Ring it up!”
…
“Two months on back order?” Kowalski said as they exited the shop. “What the hell is that paint made of? Fairy wings or something?”
“The wait’s worth it for something you really want.”
Kowalski gave him a look over the roof of the GTO.
“What?”
He smirked. “Nothing.” He ducked down into the driver’s seat. “So,” he said as Ray slammed the passenger door, “at this rate, we should have the Riv up and running by spring—summer at the latest. You been thinking about where you’re gonna go first?”
Ray grunted. “Probably work.”
“Think bigger, Vecchio. After all this work, you should give it a proper spin. Really open ’er up.”
Ray pursed his lips. “I don’t know… maybe. There was a trip to Florida I had planned a couple years back that I never got around to.”
“There you go.” Kowalski punched him in the arm. “Getting warmer. Keep thinking about it.”
…
Ray’s lips curled in a smile as he stepped back, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as the sun gleamed across the freshly painted Riv.
A hand clamped onto his shoulder in a friendly squeeze. “You were right, Vecchio. The right color really did matter. That’s one beautiful vehicle.”
“Yeah.” Ray sighed, pulling the keys from his pocket and giving them a jangle. “Want to go for a ride?”
Kowalski grinned. “Hell yeah. Let’s see what it can do.”
After cruising along Lake Shore Drive for a while, they grabbed a couple of burgers and parked at a lookout point with a view of the water. Lights shimmered as the sun dipped, a mild breeze rolling off the lake in the early summer night. They sat on the Riv’s hood in mostly companionable silence.
“You still thinking of heading down to Florida—giving it a real test drive?” Kowalski asked, running a hand over the sleek hood.
Ray squinted toward the horizon. “I don’t know. I was thinking of maybe heading north instead.”
…
“Come on, Vecchio,” Kowalski huffed from the passenger seat. “We’ve got at least four days of driving ahead of us. You’re gonna have to give up the wheel sooner or later. You can’t do all the driving.”
“I know, I know!” Ray’s shoulders tensed as he tightened his grip on the wheel. “Just—not yet. It’s only been a few hours. Maybe after we stop for dinner.”
Snorting, Kowalski slouched down and propped his boots up on the dashboard. “That’s what you said before lunch.”
“Well, I’m not tired yet, so there’s no point in trading off.” He swatted Kowalski’s knee. “And get your filthy boots off my dash!”
“Fine.” Kowalski dropped his feet and reclined his seat. “I’m taking a nap. Wake me when it’s time to eat.”
…
The diner they’d stopped at was a hundred miles behind them when Ray let out a yawn.
Kowalski reached over and snapped off the radio. “That’s it. You either pull over and let me drive, or we find a place to sack out for the night.”
Ray’s lips pressed into a thin line as he finally eased off the gas. “Okay, okay.” He flicked on the turn signal. “Think I saw a sign for a motel a couple of miles back.”
Kowalski gaped at him. “Seriously? You’re really gonna try to hoard the wheel the whole trip, aren’t you?”
…
The Riv hummed along Highway 41, early sun flashing on the chrome.
Kowalski had one foot propped on the dash again, until Ray glared.
“I have a cramp.” Kowalski kneaded his calf.
Grumbling under his breath, Ray flexed his fingers around the wheel. His hands were stiff and sore.
Kowalski grunted.
“What?” Ray flashed a look at him. He was leaning back in the passenger’s seat, sunglasses down with a Red Vine dangling from the side of his mouth.
“Looks like I’m not the only one cramping up.”
Keeping one hand on the wheel, Ray shook out the other. “I’m fine.”
“Jesus Christ, Vecchio… If I’m not going to help with the driving, you might as well drop me off at the next airport, and I’ll just fly up there.”
Ray’s stomach dropped. He didn’t want to do this alone. “Okay, okay. Next time we stop to fill up, you drive.”
“Mm Hm.”
“I promise.”
…
It was by far the longest stretch Ray had ever driven in any Riv. Kowalski had done incredible work on the thing—she’d made the journey with only a couple overheating scares, and was still purring like new.
Ray’s stomach, on the other hand, was rumbling like crazy—and he could only blame part of that on all the greasy spoons and gas-station food.
Only a few hours left now until he would see Fraser for the first time in over a year. He was starting to wonder if this had been such a great idea, him just showing up unannounced. Fraser only knew about Kowalski coming. They had plans. What if Ray’s sudden appearance threw things off?
“Stop it,” Kowalski said, smacking Ray’s arm.
“Ow—what was that for? Stop what?”
“Fraser’s gonna be happy to see you.”
Ray blinked at him. “You think you can read my mind now?”
Kowalski shrugged, tossing a handful of peanuts into his mouth. “Spend enough time in a car with someone, that’s what happens.”
“Hmph.” Ray glanced out the window. “Same thing go for dog sleds? That why you think you know how Fraser’s gonna feel?”
“Just trust me, Vecchio.” Kowalski shook the peanut bag. “I’ve got good instincts.”
…
The town Fraser was living in wasn’t quite as far up north or as isolated as his father’s cabin had been. It was small, no doubt about it, but there were actual people around. It was summer, so the streets were likely a lot more crowded than they would be otherwise, but it was a decent size comparatively. There was a church, an inn, a general store, a tavern and restaurant, and even a little rec center.
It didn’t seem half bad. And it made Ray feel a little better knowing Fraser hadn’t completely cut himself off from civilization.
Barking greeted them as the Riv made its way up the long road to Fraser’s place. A smile broke out over Ray’s face at the first flash of white streaking toward the car.
Dief. He’d actually missed the furball.
Kowalski had the passenger door swinging open before Ray could shut off the ignition. “Hey, there, Dief! Look what I got for you?” Kowalski pulled out one of the beaver tails they’d bought in town.
Leaping up on him, Dief snatched the pastry between his jaws. Kowalski laughed, burying his fingers in his fur.
Then the door to the cabin opened up. Fraser strode out, grin so broad Ray could see it from the car. His breath caught.
Benny.
He and Kowalski met in the middle, arms wrapping around each other.
“Ray! What a nice surprise, I wasn’t expecting you for two more days. How—” Looking over Kowalski’s shoulder, Fraser froze.
Ray rose from the car, coming around slowly.
Fraser’s eyes went from wide and stunned to crinkling into a beautiful smile, shining with tears. “Ray.” His voice was hushed, a little shaky. He stepped back from Kowalski, almost instinctively closing the distance to Ray.
And then he was right in front of him, face full of wonder and…
Oh.
Ray’s heart lodged somewhere in his throat. He flicked a glance at Kowalski, whose face was split in a huge ‘told-you-so’ type grin, then back to Fraser.
“It’s…so good to see you, Ray. I—”
Before Ray even knew what he was doing, his hands were on Fraser’s face, pulling him in. Fraser stumbled into him, arms coming around Ray’s waist.
And then their lips were touching.
Fraser’s startled squeak melted into a soft, breathy sigh as their bodies fit together, clinging tight.
“Dief’s gonna take me for a walk. Aren’t you, boy?” Kowalski called.
Dief barked once. Kowalski chuckled.
“We’ll be back in a little bit. You two… have a good time.”
Even as Kowalski’s footsteps crunched away, Ray and Fraser didn’t part.
…
“Hey.”
Kowalski looked up from the book in his lap as Ray padded out of the bedroom.
“Can’t sleep?” Ray asked.
“I’m trying,” he said, holding up the book. “All this sun is throwing me off. Can’t tell day from night.”
Ray huffed a laugh. “Fraser said he has some chamomile tea. Want to try some?”
Snapping the book shut, Kowalski stood. “Sure. This isn’t cutting it.” He tossed the book aside.
They shuffled over to the small kitchen area. Kowalski sat at the table while Ray rummaged through the drawers. Finding the tea, he put the kettle on the stove, then sat down across from Kowalski.
“This place isn’t so bad, huh?” Ray said, looking around the cozy space. “Beats the place he used to live in. You ever see his dad’s place?”
Kowalski shook his head.
“Well, this is the Ritz compared to that.”
The kettle hissed, just shy of full whistle. Ray got up quickly—not wanting to wake Fraser—and poured two mugs.
They sat in quiet for a moment, stirring their tea.
Ray cleared his throat, then reached into his pocket, hand closing around the ring of keys. Placing the keys to the Riv on the table, Ray hesitated for a beat before sliding them toward Kowalski.
Kowalski blinked up at him with a knowing smile on his face. “So, you finally figured it out, huh?”
Chuckling, Ray curled his hands around his mug. “I can be a little slow on the uptake sometimes.”
Kowalski picked up the keys, dangling them from a finger. “You sure you want to let it go?”
“I’m not letting go of anything,” Ray said. “But, as I said, the Riv and Benny just can’t exist together too long. It’s fine right now, but once the weather turns, this will be no place for a car like that. So, will you take care of it for me for a while? Make sure to take ‘er out now and then?”
Tapping the key on the tabletop, Kowalski smiled sadly. “Sure thing, Vecchio.”
“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be glad to finally be able to do the driving.”
“Don’t get me wrong—I’m happy for you. Both of you. But…” He sighed. “Looks like I’m down another best friend.”
Ray’s shoulders slumped. He reached out and put a hand on Kowalski’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss you too, Kowalski.”
A creak from the bedroom made them both look up to find Fraser hovering in the bedroom doorway.
“Hey, Frase,” Kowalski said. “We yapping too loud?”
“No, no. You’re fine.” He stepped away from the door, pointing down the hallway. “I was just going to use the washroom. Please, don’t let me interrupt.”
Waiting until the bathroom door clicked closed, Ray said, “You’re not losing anything. You’ll always have both of us, no matter how far away, remember?”
Kowalski smiled. “Yeah, I know.” He picked up his tea and took a sip, wincing a little. “But it was nice having someone to go to games with again.”
…
“I know how to drive, Vecchio,” Kowalski said, zipping up his duffel.
“I know, I know. But a few little tips never hurt anybody.”
Levelling a glare at him, Kowalski said, “You don’t shut up with ‘em, and they might.”
Hands going to his hips, Ray glared back. “Give me a break, Kowalski. It’s hard to say goodbye. I have—”
His mouth snapped closed as Fraser came out of the bedroom, carrying Ray’s bags.
What the hell? Ray gulped.
“Uh, Benny,” he said, stomach turning. “Those my bags?”
“Of course, Ray. I took the liberty of packing them for you.” He held the bags out to Ray.
Dumbfounded, Ray numbly reached for the luggage. “But, I thought we—” He squinted at one of the bags. “Hey, this one’s not mine.”
“No, that’s mine,” Fraser said. “All the necessities I should need for now. And along with the things Ray has been kind enough to store for me in his apartment, it should be more than sufficient.”
“Sufficient for what?”
“Well, life, Ray.” He took his bag back and swung it over his shoulder. “I hope it isn’t too much. I’m unsure of how much room you have at your place—if you need me to leave something behind, I’m sure—”
“My place?” Ray said.
“Oh.” Fraser frowned, running his thumb over his brow. “Forgive me, Ray, I didn’t mean to be presumptuous. I just thought perhaps, given the recent…developments,” he blushed, “in our relationship that we would be sharing a home. But if that’s not what you want, I can always resume living at the consulate for now.”
“The consulate?” Ray shook his head. “Benny, what are you— Are you talking about moving back to Chicago? For good?”
“Well, yes.”
Ray cast a glance at Kowalski’s beaming face. He kept his own smile tamped down, afraid of getting his hopes up too soon.
“Are you sure about this, Benny? I was ready to stay up here with you. This is your home.”
Taking Ray’s hand, Fraser smiled softly. “No, it isn’t.” He looked out the window. “It’s a beautiful place, and for a long time, I thought it was what I was longing for. But,” His eyes drifted over Ray’s shoulder, extending his smile to Kowalski. “It’s not where I want to be. I want to be with the people I love. My friends, my…”
Ray squeezed his fingers and lifted Fraser’s hand to his lips. “Family.”
“Yes.” Fraser breathed the word, relief and certainty in it.
They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Ray reached a hand back without looking. “Give me my keys, Kowalski?”
Kowalski grumbled something. Keys jingled as he pulled them from his pocket and slapped them into Ray’s palm. “You know, Vecchio, if I’m driving, you and Fraser can make out in the backseat.”
Ray hesitated, lips pursed.
“Ray!” Fraser gasped, pink blooming in his cheeks.
Ray gave a tiny shrug. “I’ll keep that in mind for later.” He twirled the keys. “For now, it’s you and Furface in the back. And, I hope there won’t be any making out.”
“Ha ha,” Kowalski said. “You ever think about opening for Huey and Dewey at the comedy club?”
…
Ray shut the trunk and took a slow breath, letting his gaze sweep over the landscape. He knew it wouldn’t be the last time he saw it—Fraser would want to come back, visit, reconnect. And when he did, Ray would be right there beside him. This land was part of Fraser, and Ray loved the whole package.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, he clapped his hands together.
“Everybody ready?”
A mumbled yes from Kowalski, and an affirmative bark from Dief came from the backseat.
He looked over to the passenger’s seat. “You sure you got everything you need, Benny?”
Fraser reached across the seat and folded his hand into Ray’s. “Yes, Ray.”
Ray smiled, squeezing once before curling his other hand around the wheel. “Me too.”
The universe might finally be giving him everything he wanted. His eyes lifted to the rearview mirror and met Kowalski’s smile.
And then some.
…
Aside from a flat tire in Winnipeg and a broken windshield wiper in St. Cloud, the drive home was smooth sailing.