BELOVED--19

* * *

Alejandro Hernandez laughed as he read Monterey's morning paper. What a rag! he thought to himself. There was a death notice in there already for his brother and his bitch of a sister-in-law, and he knew that arrangements for the visitation and funeral Mass would probably be appearing the next day. People were so predictable, and he was just the person who could take advantage of that. He knew without a doubt that Berto would choose Vargas's Funeral Home to prepare the bodies and hold the visitation, and that Our Lady of Guadalupe would host the funeral Mass. It was a neighborhood thing.

Obviously, the funeral home and the church were two points at which he would be able to take out Berto, and also the two Emrick boys if they were somehow stupid enough to show up for the "festivities." Alejandro knew he had to fulfill his contract with Walter Emrick or the man would expect his money back. Not that he'd give it back.

Houses lined the street across from both Vargas's and Our Lady of Guadalupe, and if his memory was correct, many of them had attic windows on the third floor through which he could squeeze off a few well-placed shots with a rifle he had purchased from a friend a few days ago.

Alejandro discarded the newspaper and hailed a cab in front of the flea bag hotel where he'd been staying under an assumed name, heading out to scout the territory. If the owners of the houses he picked for his dirty work didn't want to cooperate for the money he would offer, they wouldn't live to tell about it. Life was so simple.

* * *

Just as he'd said he would be, Captain Tom Ridenour was in the chief's office at the Monterey Police Department when Ian and Berto arrived at 10 a.m. Chief Jim Henderson, a Viet Nam veteran and veteran police office on the brink of retirement from the Monterey P.D., made everybody welcome after introductions were made. Ian was impressed with the chief's acuity and demeanor. As Henderson and Tom Ridenour shook hands with Berto, they expressed their condolences on the loss of his parents. Coffee was served, except that Berto had bottled water.

Tom Ridenour explained to Chief Henderson his and Ian's belief that Walter Emrick had hired Berto's uncle Alejandro to kill Emrick's own children, Carl being the abuse victim and sole witness against him in the child abuse case. He added that Ian and the entire Carson family were now more likely targets than before because they'd taken in Berto, whom Alejandro had hired to discover the Emrick boys' whereabouts. Henderson already knew that Alejandro was the chief suspect in the murder of Berto's parents. The visitation and funeral for Berto's parents, Ridenour said, would be perfect occasions for Alejandro to take out any members of the extended Carson family who showed up.

Once informed of the tentative sites for the upcoming visitation and funeral, Henderson pulled down large wall maps of the city that one could write on with magic markers, and began to circle the sites and discuss some of the challenges for security they posed. After thoroughly familiarizing themselves with the maps, including streets of ingress and egress, Ridenour suggested that they take a ride and reconnoiter the area in question firsthand. Ridenour rode with the chief and one of his lieutenants, and Ian and Berto went in the Navigator so they could stay behind afterwards to make final arrangements with the funeral home people and with the pastor at Our Lady of Guadalupe church for the visitation and funeral.

The three police officers identified the third story of the houses across the street from the church and the funeral home immediately as a potential havens for a sniper. The chief committed one contingent of his SWAT team for the two sites, who would be given special instructions to watch the higher windows of the neighborhood houses. Fortunately, both the church and the funeral home had areas at the rear of their properties which were totally protected from view on the street. It was getting back to those protected sites that posed a danger.

Berto pretty much went numb as Ian and the three police officers finished formulating their security plans, which would include distribution of Alejandro's mug shot to all the police officers and private security who would be hired by Ian to be on duty. The private security would work under the direction of the onsite police commanders.

When they were satisfied with preliminary security arrangements, the police officers went back to the chief's office, and Ian and Berto first visited the pastor at Our Lady of Guadeloupe, followed up by a visit to the funeral director at Vargas Funeral Home. Still numb, Berto let Ian make most of the decisions, only speaking up when he was asked a question. The priest, Father Saucedo, was very kind and gentle with the boy.

Ian was pleased about the arrangements for the visitation and Mass at the church. The visitation would be from 9 to 11 a.m. on Wednesday, followed by the Requiem Mass at the church at 11:30 a.m.

Ian then got on the telephone to a very professional security agency that his law firm had used numerous times, and engaged them for twenty officers for Wednesday starting at 8 a.m. Their field commander was instructed to get in touch with the SWAT team commander at the Monterey Police Department for deployment and specific orders.

Ian knew that the hard part was yet to come--when Berto went back to his house for the first time since the murders. When they got into the Navigator at the funeral home, Berto behind the wheel again, Ian spoke up.

"Berto, are you sure you're up to stopping by your house today?"

"I don't know. I have to do it sometime, so..."

"All right," Ian said, feeling terrible for the boy. "But we can leave anytime you want to."

"OK."

Berto fired up the car engine, and they drove a few blocks over to the Hernandez's house. Berto had been accurate in his description. It was a nice neighborhood, full of tidy little houses all painted up and in good repair. There was no litter on the streets, and the tiny, fenced lawns were all trimmed.

They looked at the front door of Berto's house, and were stunned to see at least a hundred bouquets of flowers fastened there and across the front porch.

"The neighbors," Berto explained, starting to tear up.

After they alighted from the truck, a girl about Berto's age came down off her porch next door and over to Berto, speaking to him in Spanish. They talked briefly and hugged silently as Ian hung back, and the girl went back home. Ian and Berto climbed the steps to the house and saw remnants of crime scene tape clinging to the front door. Berto inserted his key in the lock, and they went inside.

Except where the crime scene investigators had moved a few things and the blood on the carpet, the house was immaculate inside. Ian sat down in an easy chair and closed his eyes for a moment while Berto went to his parents' bedroom and pulled two suitcases out of their closet. Taking them to his own room, he began to put some of his favorite clothes into the suitcases along with an ipod that he'd worked all one summer to buy, and a few books.

Berto came out of his bedroom carrying the two suitcases and sat down in a chair across from Ian. The boy's eyes scanned the room, knowing that he might not see it again for awhile, if ever. He looked at his mother's inexpensive little art treasures scattered around the room, and began to sob as they sat there.

Ian struggled to keep tight control of his emotions so he wouldn't break into tears himself as he sat in the chair and looked around the living room. So many memories here, he thought to himself, thinking about Berto's mother and father and their life together. Finally, he asked Berto, "Do you want to take the desktop computer with us?" He nodded at a computer on a desk against the wall.

"Yes, if there's room in the truck. I have some programs and files on it."

"We'll make room. But we'll be back here when your uncle is in custody," Ian tried to assure him.

"Mrs. Vega will need room for her things in the truck," Berto reminded Ian.

"There will be."

The two of them unhooked and unplugged the computer components and carried them out to the Navigator. Then Berto retrieved his suitcases and locked the front door again.

"Have you ever eaten on the Wharf?" Ian asked Berto when they got in the truck, Ian at the wheel this time.

"One time when I was a kid," Berto said. "It's pretty pricey down there. Lots of tourists."

"Yeah," Ian agreed. "We have some time before we have to pick up Yolanda. Let's go up there and grab some lunch. My treat."

They did. Once in San Francisco, Ian put the truck in a park and lock lot, with the computer in the third row of seats covered up with some of Berto's clothes. They walked through the raw wind to the Ferry Building, and went to the Slanted Door. They didn't have reservations, but the maitre de recognized Ian immediately, and seated him and Berto right away at a table with a breathtaking view of the Bay. Ian slipped the man a generous tip. At Ian's urging, when it was time to order, Berto had crab on glass noodles as the main course, as did his host. It was mouth wateringly good.

The service was great. The restaurant staff turned over the tables in the place without making anyone feel that they were being hurried through their meal. When he and Berto were finished, Ian paid the bill, once again leaving a generous tip, this time for the wait staff. They walked back to the Navigator and left for Ian's condo.

Berto smiled as they sat in the driveway and waited for the gate to the garage to open.

"You don't know how many hours I sat across the street and waited for you to come home," he told Ian.

Ian smiled, saying nothing, and after parking, they took the elevator up to the penthouse.

Yolanda Vega greeted the two of them at the condo door when they arrived upstairs. She hugged Ian and met Berto, greeting him in Spanish and giving him a hug.

"I miss the family so much, Mister Ian," Yolanda said. "It too lonely here now."

Ian smiled. "Enjoy the last few moments of peace while you've have it, Yolanda," he said. "Seven boys and a baby are going to provide plenty of noise and confusion where we're going."

"I ready for it," Yolanda said, smiling. "You know that."

They went into the living room, furnished with low profile, modern furniture with some antiques interspersed, along with beautiful, original oils on the walls, to get Yolanda's two suitcases and a garment bag. Berto looked out the huge windows, and was stunned by the view of the city from that vantage point.

Ian went back to Mark's and William's rooms, picking up a few items they had asked him to get for them, putting them into a book bag he found in Mark's closet to carry them.

When they were ready to go, Ian and Berto carried Yolanda's clothes down to the garage. Ian let Berto drive again, Yolanda sharing the second row seats with some of her luggage. As a precaution, Ian had Berto exit the garage through a little used door out on to a side street just in case they had been followed.

Soon they were flying across the Golden Gate Bridge on the way back to San Rafael. Berto was still a little numb after visiting his house, but despite his pain over losing his parents, he was grateful to Ian Carson and his family and Catherine MacKenzie for taking him in. And grateful to all the boys for their kindness and for just being there for him in dark days. He realized he cared a lot about every one of them.

* * *

Cam wasted no time whipping the Camaro out of the school parking lot after their last class with Kevin riding shotgun. He headed first toward a mall, where they went to a baby store and bought a child seat suitable for transporting an infant. It had the FTC seal of approval, and recommendations from lots of other children's organizations.

Then, with some lingering reluctance, they drove to the clinic to get tested for STD's. Kevin took Cam's hand before they got out of the car.

"I'm glad we're doing this, but we're all right, y'know," he told him confidently.

Cam looked into his partner's handsome face, and his chest tightened up with the love he felt for this boy. He raised Kevin's hand and kissed it.

"I know. Let's hit it."

They went inside and signed in, the young girl behind the reception desk obviously smitten with the boys' good looks. She tried to engage them in unnecessary, casual conversation before the boys sat down, and then checked them out thoroughly from across the waiting room. The guys filled out some paper work. Ten minutes later they were placed in separate examination rooms, given gowns and told to strip and hang up their clothes in a little closet. Cam hoped that Kevin wouldn't really get a woman doctor to examine him, because he'd never hear the end of it if he did.

A nurse came in first and swabbed the inside of Cam's cheek with some kind of sophisticated Q-tip that could be withdrawn inside its own cover. "This is the oral test for HIV," she explained as she capped it. "We'll know in 10 minutes whether it's positive or negative. If it's negative, the test for HIV is complete. If it's positive, we'll have to draw some blood for additional tests." She left the room, taking the sample with her. She returned with a middle aged, male doctor in a few minutes, who snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Alexander," the man said to Cam. "You're negative for HIV," the doctor told him. "And that's good news," he added. "Are you are sexually active?"

"Yes," Cam said.

"All right. Now we want to examine you for other STD's. We'll look at your skin for pubic or anal warts and for sores. Lie down on the table on your back, if you will, and raise your gown." Cam complied, and the nurse left the room. The doctor put on a reflector headset, adjusted the angle of reflection, and began examining Cam's penis and crotch area. When he was done, he had him turn over on the table. Telling Cam to spread his cheeks, he checked his anus.

"You're good," the doctor said.

Cam turned over on his back on the table and began breathing again.

"Now, one last test," the doctor said, smiling faintly. "It's a little uncomfortable, but not really painful. The dreaded 'plastic stick.'"

"What?"

The doctor walked over to the counter and opened a drawer. He removed a slim package, and tore off the cellophane cover. He turned back to Cam carrying a little plastic stick tapering down to a small, smooth, round point.

"I'm afraid to ask," Cam said.

"Yeah, I have to insert this in your urethra. Not far up, but it has to stay in there for a minute."

"Oh, man."

"Yeah. You ready?"

"Yes," Cam said, taking a breath.

The doctor grasped the boy's penis, and pulling back on the head to spread the piss slit open, and gently inserted the plastic stick a short way up it. Cam gasped.

"Are you all right?" the doctor asked quietly. Cam nodded. Leaving the stick where it was for thirty more seconds, the doctor then slowly withdrew the test stick. Cam audibly exhaled in relief as the doctor took the stick over to the counter. He sealed it in a special tube, and peeling a label off Cam's paper work, placed it on the tube for identification.

"It will be a few days before we have the results of this last test. Do you want us to send you a written notice of all our findings, or do you want to call here for the results?"

"I'd like to call," Cam said. "But can I get them in writing, too?"

"All right." The doctor removed another sticker from Cam's packet, and placed it on a card with the clinic's address and telephone number. "Here's your ID number. Just call and ask for clinic results, and give your ID, and they'll tell you. If it's positive for anything, you'll be given an appointment to come back for treatment, and you should do that. Otherwise, any sexual partners you may have will be put at risk. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Have you always used protection when you have sex?"

"Yes, sir. All the time."

"Multiple partners?"

"No, sir."

"That's good. Stay careful. Please stay careful." The doctor smiled. "You can get dressed and leave anytime you're ready. Thank you for coming in."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Cam put his clothes on, and went back to the waiting room. Kevin wasn't there yet. The receptionist made eyes at him, but he avoided eye contact and picked up a magazine to read. Kevin came out in a couple of minutes, and they walked out of the office.

"Shit, man," Kevin said after they left the building. "Why didn't you tell me they were going to shove a log up my dick?"

"It wasn't a log, exactly!" Cam corrected his partner, laughing. "Quit complaining. I didn't know what they were gonna do, or I'd have practiced on you at home."

Kevin snorted derisively. "It didn't matter," he said, grinning. "My dick is so big, that stick hardly touched me inside."

"Yeah, right!" Cam said, and they both broke down laughing. "Were the lady doctor's hands soft on your privates?" Cam asked.

"There was no lady doctor, you lyin' piece o' shit!"

Cam smiled.

They drove over to the hospital, and contrary to Cam's usual practice, parked close to the hospital door where his car doors just could possibly be dented by other car doors. They went directly to the maternity ward, taking the child carrier up with them. Little Kevin was ready to go as soon as the nurse put a sweater on the child and a little cap on his head. The little guy didn't make a sound, but followed every movement around him with those big, alert brown eyes of his. Cam and Kevin buckled him into his carrier, and after Kevin signed some papers, away they went to the car.

Kevin climbed into the back seat while Cam worked from the front passenger side, buckling the travel seat to the back of the passenger seat facing backward. Little Kevin was still silent and observant. Cam bent down and kissed the baby's head before he got out and closed the passenger door. Starting the car, he drove toward home.

"I love this baby," Cam told his partner. "I haven't seen anything this cute since the first time I met you. That was a long time ago."

"Uh huh," Kevin said.

Kevin talked to the infant most of the way home in his soprano child voice, and had the rapt attention of his son.

"I'm happy!" Kevin said to his partner as they finally drove in the driveway. "Happy, happy, happy!"

The boys had no sooner carried the child in the MacKenzie back door than they were swarmed by everybody in the house. Ian and Berto were back, and there was a lady in a maid's uniform standing in the background, smiling, but everybody else surrounded them and peered at the child, talking excitedly. Little Kevin was scared, and started to cry.

"Why don't you take him upstairs and give him his bottle?" Catherine suggested. "But first, I want you to meet Yolanda Vega, an important member of Ian and Mary's family. She's going to help us out, especially now that the baby is here."

Cam went over to Yolanda, and instead of shaking hands with her, enveloped the woman in his arms, kissing her cheek. Yolanda beamed, and then Kevin, holding the carrier on one arm, came over and hugged and kissed her as well.

"Mom, we met Yolanda when we stopped at the Carsons' on the way home from the Big Sur," Kevin said as Cam nodded. "It's really good to see you again, Yolanda!"

"I know Cam and Kevin," Yolanda said, smiling.

"I forgot," Catherine said.

Cam carried little Kevin up the back stairs, followed by Mark Carson and Dan Emrick. As they took the baby out of his carrier and put him in his crib for a moment, Cam and Kevin noticed a few changes to the room since morning. For one thing, Catherine had bought them a little floor model refrigerator which was humming away. When Kevin opened its door, there were a dozen bottles of baby formula sitting inside. There was also a new table with a hot plate on it and a pan to heat water when it was time to warm the bottles.

"Thanks, Mommy," Kevin said to himself. He picked the baby up, and putting him in the center of his and Cam's bed, lay down beside him and started to croon to him. The baby jerked his arms and legs and seemed to smile. Gas pains, maybe, Kevin thought to himself, remembering from the baby class.

"Little Kevin is spastic, Cam, just like you," Kevin told his partner.

"Shut up, man," Cam said. "Don't even joke about that."

Dan and Mark sat down on the bed and looked at the baby admiringly.

"Y'know, this 'Little Kevin' shit is going to get old real fast," Mark suggested. "Why don't you call him 'KC' for 'Kevin Cameron?"

"'Casey,'" Kevin mouthed. "I like that, Mark! You're a genius. Well, sort of. Cam, whaddaya think?"

"I like it!" Cam said from the depths of his closet. "Let's do it." He emerged from the closet carrying hangers with his kilt, dress shirt and sash on them.

The dreaded prom with Teri McKee as his date that coming Friday night was closing in fast, and it was time recheck his clothes.

Chapter 1	Chapter 2	Chapter 3	Chapter 4	Chapter 5	Chapter 6	Chapter 7	Chapter 8
Chapter 9	Chapter 10	Chapter 11	Chapter 12	Chapter 13	Chapter 14	Chapter 15	Chapter 16
Chapter 17	Chapter 18	Chapter 19	Chapter 20	Chapter 21	Chapter 22	Chapter 23	Chapter 24
Chapter 25	Chapter 26	Chapter 27	Chapter 28	Chapter 29	Chapter 30	Chapter 31	Chapter 32
Chapter 33