Breathe by Sloan Parker Page B

problem
    with it. I know he"s gay. Just didn"t know he"d lived here with someone.”
    Silence followed. Paul looped his forefinger and thumb around the neck of the
    beer bottle and twisted it back and forth without lifting it off the table. The scrape
    of glass on wood didn"t seem to bother him. “That"s surprising,” he said. “He"s not
    ashamed of it, but around here, you don"t advertise. Most people he raced with
    didn"t have a clue.” He stilled the bottle. “You know about the accident?”
    Jay"s breath hitched. He inhaled and tried to make it appear natural. “Yeah.”
    Paul leaned forward in a posture of pure warning. “If you"re here because
    you"re a friend, then I might tell you how to find him. If you"re here "cause you hate
    him for beating you on the track or something else he did to you back in the day and
    you"re out to stick it to him, then fuck off.” He paused and then added quietly, “He"s
    in a bad way.”
    “You"ve seen him since he got out?”

    Breathe

    51

    “Nope.” Paul seemed to have passed by some hidden barrier and couldn"t stop
    himself. He assumed they shared a kinship in their affection for McCaw. “I tried to
    help him. I did. He broke it off and refused to see me. Our relationship died the day
    of that accident.”
    Paul"s words penetrated Jay and plucked away at his resolve to hate and
    blame.
    Was seeing Jay again, no matter what the reason, going to make things worse
    for McCaw? Worse for both of them?
    The answers didn"t matter. Something inside Jay told him he had to do this—
    had to let the tortured man from the courtroom recording off the hook. It"s what
    Katie would want. “I need to find him.”
    “Sonny"s Tavern. South side of town.”
    “I tried there. They said he hasn"t been in for a few days.”
    “Before he left, he was there a lot. I imagine he"ll pick up right where he left
    off.” Paul took a long drink from his beer, then met Jay"s stare. “Maybe you can help
    him. If you don"t want to try, then don"t bother, yeah?”
    All Jay could manage was a nod. Maybe he had used up his allotment of verbal
    lies.
    “He"s staying with his sister. Nancy Connell.” Paul wrote an address on a slip
    of paper and gave it to Jay.
    “Thanks.”
    “Could you give him a letter for me?” Paul went into the hall and returned
    with an opened white envelope. “It came for him last week.” He slid the envelope
    across the table. “There was no return address, so I opened it. I thought it might be
    important.”
    Jay nodded and picked up the envelope.
    “It"s some kind of hate mail. I guess about the accident.”
    Hate mail ? “What?”
    “It doesn"t say who it"s from. Maybe the guy whose wife died wants Lincoln to
    feel bad. I don"t know. I tried to contact Lincoln, but he won"t return my calls. He
    should know about this, though.”
    “I can…” Jay stared at the envelope in his hands. Who had sent it? And what
    did it say? “I can give it to him.”
    “Thanks.”
    Jay stood. He made it four steps toward the kitchen doorway then stopped, his
    back to Paul. “How long were you and Lincoln together?”
    Paul didn"t respond.
    He should let it go. Keep walking. What did it matter anyway? But the silence
    disturbed Jay. He turned around.

    52
    Sloan Parker

    Paul was staring sideways into the empty kitchen. When he finally looked at
    Jay, he said, “Seven years.”
    Longer than he and Katie, even counting the high school years between going
    steady and their first official date. “I"m sorry.”
    Paul got up from the table and walked to stand before a window across the
    room. “It wasn"t his fault. It"s just how it had to be for him. Looking back, I don"t
    think we could"ve avoided it—other than the accident not having happened. Not
    that anyone can change that now. He needs to let go of the guilt. He needs to forgive
    himself.”
    Blame. It surrounded Jay. Every day for a year. And here was a man who
    placed none of it on McCaw.
    What did it mean to be at fault?