Page 24 of Coven of Corpses

“Robert Frost has a poem about stopping by woods on a snowy day.” Demmy’s voice was slightly muffled by Cody’s jacket. “He called them lovely.”

“Seems kind of a stretch.”

Demmy looked up, arms still around him, and smiled. “Where’s my big strong linebacker hiding?”

Cody smirked. “Deep inside this tired and sad guy in his mid-thirties.”

Demmy put a hand against his cheek. “I’m sorry it’s been so hard lately.”

“Lately?” Cody was trying for levity, but it fell short.

“Okay, maybe the last five or more years.” He studied him. “You doing all right?”

Cody hesitated. He trusted Demmy more than anyone, so why couldn’t he talk about losing his grandmother? Why hadn’t he been able to cry about it? Deep inside he knew the reason, but knowing didn’t make it any less frustrating.

It was too big, and it cut too deep. And he was afraid if he let it start, he wouldn’t be able to shut if off again.

So he smiled, even though it felt a little shaky, and said, “I’m not quite all right, but I’m finding my way back.” Because that was as close to the truth as he could get at that time.

He leaned down for a kiss. Demmy’s lips and tongue were familiar and comforting.

“Family can be so intrusive, can’t they?”

Startled, Cody whirled and instinctively put himself in front of Demmy. He slid one arm back, hand on Demmy’s hip to keep him in place. To maintain a touch.

A short distance off, Oliver Berridge smirked as he stepped out from behind a tree, zipping his pants. Daylight flashed off the lenses of his glasses.

“What the fuck, Ollie?” Cody snapped. “You out here turning tricks for money?”

Oliver frowned and looked around. “With who? And, no, you sasquatch, I’m out here looking for the spot the body was found last night. The coffee caught up with me.”

“Marking his territory,” Demmy said, stepping out from behind Cody, “like any good investigative reporter.”

“Oh my God, I’m not a reporter anymore. Do you guys even listen to me?”

Cody looked down at Demmy. “Did you hear something?”

“You’re childish.” Ollie flipped him off. Maybe he would fit into the Bower family dynamic after all once he married Dave. “What are you two lovebirds doing out here? Looking for a private spot to have sex since the Bower Bunch has been all over town the past week?” He fixed Cody with a look. “Dave said you got called into work and had to leave the storage unit. Is this what you consider work now? Traipsing around the woods in the general area of a crime scene and hooking up?”

“We’re not traipsing,” Cody said, not even addressing the hooking up part, because, to be honest, if Demmy had been willing, he’d have been open to exchanging blow jobs out among the trees. They’d done it before.

“We’re investigating, like you,” Demmy said. “Which, yes, does involve some form of traipsing. But there’s more to it than that.”

Ollie crossed his arms. “Like?”

“Like if it was any of your business, we would have called you specifically and told you to meet us out here,” Cody said.

“Call me? Okay, Boomer. How about send me a text?”

Cody turned to head back the way they’d come. He lifted a hand and said over his shoulder, “Bye, Ollie. Nice walking up on you peeing in the woods. See you when you marry my brother in three months.”

“Hold on. Peace!” Demmy said. “Cody, please come back.”

Cody reluctantly returned to stand beside him. “He started it.”

“Oh my God,” Ollie said. “All of you Bower boys. I swear to God.” He looked at Demmy. “This was my morning: Dave and Brady had to get their mom on the phone because Dave had, and I quote, ‘hah’d’ the cereal.”

Cody hid his smile behind his hand. He noticed Demmy shaking his head, and wondered if he remembered the specifics. It had been something Roman had started, of course. He’d open a fresh box of cereal, usually the one with the best prize inside or highest sugar content. Putting his mouth over the open bag, he’d blow into it with a loud “Hah!” He said it marked the cereal as his and no one else could eat it. They’d called it ‘hah-ing’ the cereal, and after that, whenever their parents returned from grocery shopping, all five boys would race to get to the cereal first. It was outlawed the day Brady ended up with five stitches because Grant hip-checked him into the counter.