Epilogue

Several months later

“I still cannot believe that you two decided to take the big step so fast,” Boyd said and nudged him playfully.

“What could be the point of waiting?” Mason pulled at his collar. He was accustomed to being inside a suit, but this one was new; in fact, all his clothes were new since Rhys had insisted. 

“True, true,” Boyd admitted. “Rhys looks amazing, by the way.”

Although they had plenty of friends from the music industry invited to their wedding ceremony, Rhys had insisted on playing a few songs himself, so he was at the piano on the small stage, exchanging jokes with the people in the band. 

Mason wanted to look all serious on that special day, but he couldn’t help break into a goofy smile each time he looked at Rhys. When the minister had allowed him to kiss his partner, Mason had made the entire audience hoot over how breathless he left Rhys. After all, they had been inseparable during these last months, which meant that their physical need for one another should have calmed down a bit.

It looked like nothing of the kind would happen soon. 

“I noticed an unoccupied place to your left,” Boyd commented. “Is it for someone who couldn’t make it?” He made a move to take the full champagne flute from the table, but Mason caught his arm. 

“He’ll make it.”

“Hmm, mysterious. And who’s the guy?”

Mason didn’t know just how much secrecy Billy needed, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Ah,” Boys said as if he knew it all. “Don’t tell me it’s that guy.”

“What guy?” Mason decided to play dumb.

Boys seemed a bit uncomfortable under his direct gaze. “Are you still mad at me about that time? The guy made me swear.”

“Oh, he made you swear,” Mason commented. “And since we’re all twelve, there was no way in hell you could break that promise.”

“It seemed really serious. I mean, you wouldn’t get mad at me on your wedding day, right?”

“I can’t,” Mason replied. “Your wife brought Rhys the perfect toaster as a wedding gift. Apparently, he’s big on toast or something.”

“Phew, then she saved me,” Boyd said. “But just so you know, I made him swear that he would take care of you, no matter what.”

“Ah, he swore. You swore. Then it all makes sense.” Mason wasn’t really upset anymore, but he liked to pull Boyd’s leg a little for not saying anything at that time.

“He has a knack to make people like him. No surprise he’s some big shot in his line of work. I wonder where he is right now. Most probably, cracking some new case somewhere. It was one hell of a ride. I mean, for you guys. I’m still not sure I understand how you managed to bring someone like Levine Goldman to his knees.”

“Billy paid you royally, didn’t he, Boyd?” Mason asked, unwilling to let his best friend off the hook that easily.

“Yeah, he did,” Boyd admitted and laughed. “But honestly, it wasn’t only the paycheck I got that convinced me. He told me to opt for someone I truly trusted among all the people I worked with. And I didn’t hesitate one bit when I told him about you.”

Rhys flexed his fingers over the piano and broke into a happy tune while the people around him sang along. Renzo was, of course, a scandal, striking a lewd pose on top of the piano. Ary was doing his best to accompany Rhys, but he appeared to hit the keys randomly. No one seemed to care that they were completely out of tune.

“I suppose I can’t stand mad at you,” Mason said.

Boyd followed his line of sight. “Of course. Of all this, you got yourself a husband. Who would have thought it possible?”

Mason shrugged. “Certainly, not me.”

“Yeah. You were like the prince of doom, destined to die alone. Sarah got so worried about you that she began scouting her friends for all the gay acquaintances they had. She really wanted to set you up with someone.”

“Then I dodged a bullet, there,” Mason said.

“You can bet. Sarah might have strange ideas about what the right people could be for other people.”

“Hey, she chose you. Ah, I guess that makes the point, though.”

Boyd made a sour face, but only for a moment. “She’s crazy about Rhys. Now she can brag to friends that sometimes, she has a celebrity over on Sundays.”

“Rhys likes her back. I thought I would be the guy to cook in this family, but Rhys now experiments with all of Sarah’s recipes.”

“Oh, yes. He even told her that you once set the kitchen on fire. When had that happened?”

“Some time ago.” Mason’s thoughts traveled back. It still felt strange to believe he had been able to see Toby’s ghost. But he had come to terms with it somehow. 

“The way you and Billy got Levine in cuffs was legendary,” Boyd said. “Seriously, it was like you had divine help or something. A guy like that shouldn’t be easy to catch.”

“It wasn’t divine help,” Mason retorted. But he had had help, with Billy as a badass investigator or problem solver, as he called himself, and Toby, who, even if he had seemed just a goofy ghost, had brought his contribution, too.

“Anyway, what happened next was so frigging weird. I mean, Levine was a fraud, through and through. To think that he would keep his real mother to work as a maid.”

“It was because of the DNA tests that they discovered that, right?” Mason asked. That piece of information had come as a pretty big surprise. 

“Yeah. It looks like Levine’s parents couldn’t have a child, so his father thought of a solution.”

“By getting pregnant one of the maids,” Mason completed the statement.

“Weird rich people,” Boyd said with a snort. “And they kept it a secret for so long. Levine learned about it after he reached twenty, as I heard. And by then, Anita had raised him, anyhow. I guess it wasn’t that big of a shock for him.”

“Still, he kept his mother working as a maid. What didn’t he find a way to help her? With his money, anything was possible.”

Boyd shrugged. “Who knows? But that explains that bat-shit crazy brand of loyalty on her part. Only a mother would go that far.”

“That far as to kill a guy who she overheard blackmailing her boss, slash son. Well, that was what she thought.” 

“Toby just wanted to be safe. Levine had learned that he was trying to warn off Renzo. He cornered Toby and threatened him. So Toby thought of putting Levine’s mind at ease, by telling him to meet and give him the micro SD card. He also warned Renzo, so he felt he had done everything he could without putting himself and Rhys in danger. He thought he was guaranteeing their freedom, so there was no blackmail. Here I am, creating theories, and you’re doing nothing to stop me, Mason. Was that how things were?”

Mason nodded. “Pretty much. Only that someone had seen Toby leaving Levine’s office, and that made the situation worse.”

“Who did?”

“The hitman hired to kill Renzo,” Mason explained. “Toby must have thought he could warn Renzo, and be done with the responsibility he had toward a friend. He even wanted to destroy the evidence. But Levine must have learned from his hired henchman that Toby had been there that night.”

Boyd seemed to ponder for a while. “Do you really think Levine would have let Toby live?”

Mason shook his head. “I don’t know. But I don’t think so. Levine wanted Renzo dead only because he was better than him at promoting new artists. His greed was of a strange nature, that to be recognized as number one in all his enterprises.”

“Strange man,” Boyd concluded. “But let’s not forget this is your wedding day. How about another glass?”

The server hurried to their table with a new bottle of champagne. Mason hadn’t gotten tired yet of hearing congratulations and wishes of goodwill from the people invited. He had still hadn’t heard that toast he had been waiting for, though. But the ceremony was not over yet.

***

“I’m so beat,” Rhys complained and put his head on Mason’s shoulder. “Should we go, too? Everyone else already did.”

Mason stood there, his eyes on the untouched champagne flute. 

“Ah, we’re still waiting for him, right?” Rhys said and snuggled close to him. 

Mason put one arm around him. “Yes, we’re are. He’ll come.”

It didn’t take a genius to know that Billy worked and lived dangerously. But Mason had no intention to let his mind go there. If the man said he would be there, he would be there.

“Do you think the news on the wedding went national? I checked a few newspapers, and the ad we placed was there,” Rhys commented. “But what if Billy didn’t read those?”

“I think we paid our wedding one more time in ads online, offline, and everything in between,” Mason replied. “There is no way he could have missed it.”

Rhys nodded. “He’ll be here then.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but we need to clean the tables,” a server said as he approached them. 

“Just one more minute,” Mason said curtly, and the man took the hint.

“Maybe we should take the champagne with us,” Rhys suggested. “We might have Billy join us a bit later.”

Mason didn’t like the idea of giving up, but the personnel at the venue were getting impatient. They were working people and needed to get back home to theirs just like anyone else.

“All right,” he agreed, albeit reluctantly.

Rhys grabbed the full champagne flute and a still half-full bottle. “Don’t worry, Mason. We’ll get to see him.”

It felt good to hear someone so determined to believe that. Mason stood up and followed his husband to the limousine waiting for them outside.

***

For a moment, he hoped that Billy would suddenly appear, maybe even from the backseat of the limo, but the car was empty. The driver, a young attractive Latino man in his early twenties, held the door for them.

“Sorry to keep you working at this hour,” Rhys apologized.

The driver just nodded. The brim of his hat obscured his face. Maybe he didn’t speak too much English, Mason concluded. Still, he wanted to see his face –

“Mason, are you coming?” Rhys called from him from the backseat. 

Mason handed him the champagne flute, which he held so that Rhys could get inside. Once they were both there, a silence fell between them.

“Are you disappointed?” Rhys asked and stared dejectedly at the champagne flute in his hand.

“I guess I’m more worried than disappointed.”

The limousine started moving. Most probably, the driver already knew their destination. 

“What should we do with this?” Rhys pointed at the still full flute.

“No point in wasting it.” Mason smiled. He could be wrong, but it didn’t matter. He lowered the privacy screen. “Hey, man, pull over for a bit. We have a favor to ask.”

Rhys gestured for him to explain. As the driver stopped the engine, Mason took the glass from Rhys’s hand. 

“We have a friend who didn’t make it tonight. We just got married, and we saved this drink for him all night. We would like you to drink it in his stead. And maybe say a few words if it’s not too much.”

“Senor, I cannot drink,” the driver said in a heavy Mexican accent. 

Rhys patted his arm. “Mason, leave the man alone. He’s working. He cannot drink.”

Mason pondered for a second, but then he extended his arm and placed the drink in front of the driver. “Does your new case require you not to drink a drop, Po?”

He half-expected the driver to turn to him and express his surprise.

Which was just what he did. “Just how exactly could you tell, Mason?”

Rhys yelped in delight. “Oh my God, Billy! Is that you? You’re so different!”

“Just take this drink and hold that toast already,” Mason warned, but he was smiling broadly.

Billy took the flute and raised the glass to them. “Well, a promise is a promise, guys.”

Only his voice and eyes reminded them of good old Po. This guy was slender, tanned, and sported a sexy grin. 

“You really are the master of disguise, aren’t you?” Mason asked.

Billy threw him a knowing look. “Not that much of a master if you could tell it was me.”

“I have no idea how Mason realized it,” Rhys intervened. “You look so different. I guess if I look at little closer … Ah, what am I saying? You really are different!”

“Thank you, Rhys. My reputation is grateful, but Mason here makes me think that I need to get better at disguising myself.”

“I was just expecting you is all,” Mason explained. “Otherwise, I don’t think I would have been able to tell.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel good. But where were we? Ah, the toast.” Billy raised his glass higher. “To Rhys and Mason, the best partners to one another and to any guy who’s fortunate to call them his friends.”

Rhys clinked the bottle against Billy’s flute, drank from it, and then passed it to Mason to do the same.

“To love,” Billy added, as he crossed looks with Mason.

“May it happen to you, too,” Mason replied.

“I thought we were sharing goodwill and wishes,” Billy said with a grin. “I think you might have just cursed me now, Mason.”

“All right. Then let me say something else. To the guy who always believed Rhys and I would end up married.”

“Are you trying to say you had doubts?” Rhys asked.

“I couldn’t hope you would go with an ordinary guy like me,” Mason replied.

“Ordinary,” Rhys said with a small cute snort. “Drink up, guys. It’s really our wedding!”

“Wait,” Mason interrupted them, as Rhys was filling Billy’s flute again. “If Billy gets smashed, who is going to drive?”

To his dismay, the two little devils began laughing.

“We’ll figure out something, dad,” Billy said nonchalantly.

“Dad, huh? And wait, are you going to tell us your real name?”

Billy pondered for a moment. “Maybe when you two celebrate fifty years of marriage.”

When they laughed now, Mason joined in. Fifty years of marriage? That sounded doable.

THE END