Golden Trail
Page 117

Then he wanted to go on vacation.
With Rocky.
And maybe his boys.
His phone chimed, he looked at it sitting in the seat, its screen lit and he picked it up and flipped it open. Another text from Raquel.
Okay, baby. You have dinner?
He smiled at the phone, his earlier irritation evaporating, and texted back.
No but I’m good.
He sent the text, flipped the phone shut and started upending and twisting it in his fingers as he looked back at the doors to see kids coming out.
Youth Group met in the old sanctuary, the church that had stood there for fifty years before they built on the new, modern sanctuary which was four times the size and the new build included a Fellowship Hall, kitchens and offices. They still used the old sanctuary for church business, like Youth Group, and rented it out. The new church wasn’t new, as such. It had been built when Layne was a kid. But it didn’t resemble the old church at all, even if it was attached to it. The new church was attractive but the old church had charm, it fit the ‘burg. Even when he was a kid and his mother took him there, Layne never understood why they built it that way. The two buildings were attached but they didn’t match. Two different styles, two different eras and the new church, even though it dwarfed the old one, never seemed like it belonged.
He watched Jasper, Giselle and Tripp leave the building and head to the Charger. He also watched Tripp say something that made Jasper throw his head back and laugh and Giselle turned hers to smile a big smile at his son. Then he watched Tripp take advantage of the smile and grab her hand. She couldn’t hide being startled by the contact but she didn’t pull away either and walked to the Charger holding Tripp’s hand.
Layne’s lips tipped up. Tripp was definitely learning cool.
His phone chimed and he had another text from Rocky.
There’s a plate in the oven. Remember to turn it off, will you?
Got it. Go to sleep. Layne texted back, flipped the phone shut and tossed it back to the seat.
Then he watched the kids drive away in their cars or with their parents who had come to pick them up. Then he waited for Gaines to leave. The Honda and a red Ford Focus were the only cars left in the lot.
Then he waited longer.
Then he waited even longer.
Finally, he saw the lights streaming through the stained glass windows of the old sanctuary go out and, five minutes later, Gaines walked out with a young girl. Pretty. Tall. Thin. Dark, long hair, so healthy it gleamed in the lights of the parking lot. Layne knew she was sixteen since she could drive, maybe seventeen. But she didn’t have the confidence of a senior, she didn’t hold her body in that way that hinted at the woman she’d become. She still had girl in her.
Which made their farewell turn Layne’s stomach.
They were right under an overhead light but she still placed her hand on Gaines’s chest and got up on her toes and he bent his head, put his hand to her waist and kissed her neck.
“Son of a bitch,” Layne hissed at his windshield.
So much shit was going down, he was off his game. He should have had a camera ready mainly because he’d promised Rocky he’d get a photo of Gaines to Merry but now because, if Layne had shots of it, that kiss would make the Youth Minister need to answer uncomfortable questions. He had one in the glove compartment but he didn’t have it out.
Even so, he would never have imagined Gaines would stand in the parking lot of the f**king church and kiss a teenager’s neck for any driver in any passing car to see.
This guy was bold which meant he thought he was untouchable.
There had to be a reason for that. There had to be leverage. He had to have something.
Layne pulled out his camera and took shots and watched as Gaines smiled at her all the while she waved as she went to her car. She got in and took off and Gaines got in his Honda and left the lot. Layne waited while Gaines turned right on Green then he tossed his camera to the passenger seat, rolled out of the secluded, tree shrouded, unlit back area of the lot and kept his eyes on the Honda, flipping on his headlights and turning right with three cars between them.
Gaines turned right again on 56 and so did one of the three cars between them. Layne followed.
And he followed him straight to The Brendel where Gaines turned right into the entrance and Layne had no choice but to turn right with him.
Jesus. He either lived at The Brendel or he was visiting someone there at ten at night.
Layne slid through the gate Gaines opened and Gaines took the first right while Layne went left, toward Rocky’s place. He parked in one of her spots, grabbed his smokes from the glove compartment, his small digital camera from the seat and got out of the car. He walked into the road, tucking the camera in his inside jacket pocket and looked toward where Gaines turned.
No Honda in sight.
Layne took a swift moment to survey the area. Muted lighting but it was good. It didn’t invite strangers. There weren’t many dark corners. The streets were well lit so you could make your way. Someone came there wanting to do something they shouldn’t, they’d think twice because there was nowhere to hide and it was easy to see.
Good for the tenants. Bad for Layne.
He shook out a cigarette and walked to the sidewalk in front of Rocky’s unit. Then he lit it and took a stroll. A man outside having a smoke and a walk, he moved passed the unit next to Rocky’s and jogged across the wide entrance road to the complex. Then he hit the sidewalk on the other side. Four units in, just around a curve, he found the Honda parked next to a sporty, red Mazda.
Unit K.
Apartment one, lights out. Apartment two, lights on behind blinds. Lights on in apartment three, up the stairs and facing the small field that separated The Brendel from the next development, wide windows and a long balcony, twice the size of Rocky’s but without the two story windows. No curtains or blinds closed but Layne had no reason to stand there and watch.
“Fuck,” he whispered, lifting his smoke, taking a drag and exhaling as he dropped his hand, staring at the license plates on the cars and memorizing them. To save time so he didn’t have to do it in the morning, he was considering jogging quickly to the parking spaces to check their apartment number with the hope no one spotted him when he glanced back to the window and saw him.
Gaines at the window to close the blinds. Jacket off. Shirt untucked. Bottle of beer in his hand. He was home or at least in for the night.
He lived at The Brendel.
No Youth Minister could afford The Brendel.
The blinds started swinging closed and Layne made his way back to Rocky’s.