by Lazuli
Part 9 ~ Safe And Sound
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In all it took three days to get to Florida, six or so hours a day being around the most Ben could tolerate in the car, which they broke up with stops for refreshments, or a nice view, or just a breath of fresh air. When Ray finally pressed the remote for the automatic door for his parking garage and drove under his apartment building he was ready to holler with delight. With Ben in his chair, they took the elevator to the lobby so Ray could inform the concierge that he was back, and that no-one should be allowed entrance in his name. That done, they travelled up to the ninth floor and Ben was welcomed into Ray’s satisfyingly secure home. “This is impressive,” Ben observed with apparent surprise. The apartment was spacious and pristine, more like a show home than a space that was truly lived in and loved. There was nothing personal, nothing that said Ray Vecchio. Not a single photograph of his family or a sentimental ornament or memento from his missed life in Chicago. “But impersonal.” “I’d already started packing up before I came to see you. All my photos are at the bungalow, and…” Ray looked around. “Yeah, not much different to be honest. It’s never been what you’d call cosy. But it was what I needed. It’s remote,” Ray explained, “despite being in the middle of things. You see what I mean?” “I do.” “I didn’t have anything else to spend my money on so I thought, nice home.” Ray took another look, seeing it through Ben’s eyes. “Nice apartment, not a home. I’ve never felt settled since— Anyway, moving on, better things to think about.” “Like Chicago,” Ben suggested, with a clear undertone that meant them being back together. “Like Chicago,” Ray echoed, catching the undertone and very happy to agree. “And finally back to being the Ray Vecchio?” “Yeah,” Ray said thoughtfully. “You’re right.” He threw a smile at Ben. “Might get a Riv now.” “Think the Riv could accommodate me?” “You’ll be on your feet before I get around to buying the car.” “You seem very sure of that.” “One of us has to be positive. Positive about the positive, not positive about the negative,” he attempted to clarify. Ben understood though, and pointedly ignored him, wheeling over to the window and pretending to take in the view while visibly checking to make sure there were blinds to hide behind, even if they were on the ninth floor. Ray rubbed his hands, ready for action. “Tell me what needs moving or adjusting and I’ll get on that.” Ben travelled around the room and an armchair was repositioned, the dining table adjusted, the sofa shoved back, and the coffee table turned around and wedged against a wall. The kitchen couldn’t be helped, the counters being just high enough to be uncomfortable, but if Ben wanted to raid the fridge it was doable. Bathroom was deemed fine once the shower seat from the bungalow was in place. Bedroom, also fine after Ray rolled up a rug, and cleared out a couple of drawers for Ben’s temporary storage. “I’ll sleep on the couch, you take the bed,” Ray suggested. “I’ll leave the door open and if you need me I’ll hear you.” Looking less than impressed, Ben nodded along before attempting the move, chair to bed, and slumping onto his back once he achieved it. “Comfy,” he sighed. “That’s why you’re getting it.” “What’s the concierge’s name?” “Pete.” “Has he been here long?” “Longer than I have. There’s another guy
does the nights, Felipe, he’s also always been here. Paula is the cleaner for
the communal areas, so you might hear her about. I trust them, there’s nothing
to worry about.” “I’m sure you’re right.” Ben didn’t look sure, but on this
occasion Ray wasn’t about to humour him. “Okay, I’m going out to get some
groceries. Got your phone?” “Yes.” Ray was halfway out of the door when he
turned back. “Can you get yourself up?” Ben tried a couple of times, chuckling
rather than losing his temper when it proved harder than he’d imagined to sit
up again. “Upper body strength,” they chorused as
Ray took his hands and hauled him upright. “Maybe no more turtle impressions until I
get back.” “Maybe not,” Ben agreed as he crossed
back into his chair. “Anything special you want?” Ray was halfway out of the room again. “Combination of the gun safe?” Ray stopped and turned back, hoping Ben
was kidding, but no. Despite coping unbelievably well, and this being possibly
the safest place he could be, the fear was there, just beneath the surface. The
undeniable, ungovernable curse of PTSD. Ben reversed as Ray came back into the
room, watching closely as he crossed to the far wardrobe and opened the door. The
safe was on the floor, and Ray quickly entered the combination, throwing the
door back. “What do you want?” “What have you got?” “Something discreet? Or something to stop
an elephant?” “In between.” Ray brought out a Walther PPK and a box
of ammo, showing them to Ben. “Thank you kindly.” Handing the weapon over, Ray saw the
determination on Ben’s face. Not the expression of a victim, not anymore. He
squeezed Ben’s shoulder in parting and left to go to the store, feeling lighter
than he had in days. … Ray leapt to the worst conclusion when he returned and heard Ben’s voice in conversation. He placed down the grocery bags as silently as possible, drew his gun, and followed the sound to the bedroom. Poised just outside the doorway, he listened for a moment before standing down, re-holstering his gun, and going back for the shopping. Dropping the bags in the kitchen, he called out to Ben that he was back, receiving a cheerful acknowledgement, but no rush to join him. The last of the groceries were being put away when Ben rolled in. “Max has made an arrest on that case.” “That’s great. Who was it?” “The teacher.” “The teacher? That doesn’t make any sense. There’s no way…” “The second victim was in the school furnace.” “Oh, fu— What a piece of work.” Ray took a look at Ben’s very smug face. “You called it? The teacher?” “I did. You see…” Ben went off on one of his extended explanations that really only needed half a dozen words to cover, and Ray nodded contentedly along to the background noise, quietly happy for the return of The Mountie™. Halfway through cooking dinner there was a tap on the apartment door. Ben went for his gun, and Ray rolled his eyes and waved him away. “Moving boxes,” Ray explained, and opened the door to find Pete there with a flat stack of cardboard boxes. “I’m sorry you’re going, man,” Pete said as he handed the boxes over. “You coming back anytime soon?” “Moving on,” Ray explained as briefly as he could. “You okay to oversee the removals firm when they come for the furniture that’s going to Chicago? I will make it substantially worth your while.” “Can’t argue with that. Just let me know what and when,” Pete said, nodding all the way back to the elevator. Door shut and locked, Ray dumped the boxes in the living room and returned to his cooking. Ben wheeled himself back into the kitchen. “Would you prefer to stay here?” he asked Ray bluntly. “Are you going to be here?” That caught Ben by surprise. “Well, no. I have to go back to Chicago.” “Then I wouldn’t prefer to stay here,” Ray smiled. “Chicago will work. Unless you want to run away together?” “Don’t tempt me.” “The offer’s there.” Ben obviously took time to think about it, rocking the chair back and forth on the spot. “Wherever I go I’ll always be looking over my shoulder. If I go back to Chicago, things will eventually be resolved one way or another.” “Benny… You need to tell me what this is all about before we go home.” Ben fell still, colour draining from his face. “If I say I’ll try, is that good enough?” “No. Yes. I know you’re not being difficult on purpose, but I just want to know enough to keep you safe.” “Us safe.” Now it was Ray’s turn to pause. “You think it’s evolved into an us thing?” “That’s what I’m afraid of.” “Then I really need to know.” Ray turned a sympathetic look on Ben. “But not tonight. Tonight we forget about it. We’re safe, we’re sound, we have good food, we have beer, we have TV. We have a deck of cards if you want to lose the shirt off your back.” “We have packing.” “We do indeed have packing,” Ray agreed, “but, once again, not tonight. Are you in any hurry to get back?” “Will you cancel Doctor Lee for me?” “Sure.” “No. No hurry to get back.” “Plus you need a few days to recover from the trip.” “Yes. That was surprisingly arduous.” “The fact that I don’t think you relaxed once couldn’t have helped.” Ben was nodding along in agreement. “But we coped.” “We did.” Ray was tempted to make flamboyant promises that they’d always be together, and they’d always cope simply because of that, but it still didn’t feel like his place. The man who refurbished a bowling alley knew he was a support column, not a foundation. That made him laugh quietly to himself. “What?” Ben asked. Ray shrugged, knowing he couldn’t share that, and ushered Ben to the table. … As bedtime approached, Ray fussed, and Ben got on with washing up and changing his clothes as best he could in his new surroundings. Ray then fussed some more, insisting on going back to the car to fetch the bag with the capped urinal in case Ben needed to pee in the night. Then there was the question of a drink, should it be needed at three in the morning. Glass of water, or bottle of water? Which was easiest to deal with? Should he have thought to buy a pack of drinking straws? Ben spent a lot of time telling him not to worry. Which made Ray worry that there were bigger worries as far as Ben was concerned, but he was reluctant to bring them up and offer Ray a way in to the conversation that he was clearly doing his best to avoid under any circumstances. Asking for an extra pillow was as demanding as Ben got, so Ray fussed. And once Ben was in bed it was a relief for both of them when, after establishing that he could be called at any time, for any reason, anything at all, really, Ray said goodnight and took himself off to the sofa. “Ray?” Ray was just settling down to sleep on the sofa when the call came. Or rather he was pretending to settle, having had an ear permanently cocked waiting for the summons. Now he hurried back to the bedroom before faux-casually leaning in the doorway. “You okay?” “No,” Ben replied with exasperation that was levelled at himself rather than his companion. “I’m sorry. Can you stay here?” Ray came and sat on the edge of the bed. “No, I mean…” Ben tapped the bed beside him. “Here. Would it be too awkward?” “No, it’s fine, it’s no stranger than pushing two beds together, and we did that at the last hotel.” Of course it was the right thing to say, just as it was the right thing to do, but Ray had a distinct moment of ‘What the fuck am I doing?’ before he actually did it. Once alongside Ben in his own snug and familiar bed, things felt more natural, and maybe he hadn’t been lying when he said it was nothing more than pushing separate beds together. He decided it was best not to overanalyse any of this. “You want me to yak at you for an hour to bore you to sleep?” “You don’t bore me to sleep, you… I don’t know how to put it. Reassure me. Your presence reassures me. Brings me comfort.” There wasn’t a quick answer to that, as Ray swallowed down an unexpected surge of emotion at that response to his simple act of support. “Well, there’s no more to say about the bowling alley, or that time in my life. I think you’ve had enough of it.” They both knew what Ray was saying. Ben had stated that he wasn’t happy with Ray’s life beyond him, and Ray wasn’t about to indulge in any anecdotes that made Ben feel on the outside. “And I’m sick of Armando in every sense,” Ray stated categorically. “Tell me what we’re doing tomorrow,” Ben suggested. That was better, that was all about them. “Okay… There’s a little café five minutes from here that does the best breakfast – grilled cheese sandwich with three layers of bacon, don’t argue – so once we’re scrubbed up and looking presentable, we’ll be headed there.” “Is there a barbershop locally?” “Sure. We saying goodbye to the pretty boy hair?” “Yes,” Ben laughed scornfully. “There goes the trademark!” “Thankfully.” “After that, we – well, I – have to go the station to talk to the boss. You get to meet Max and, although you think you’ll be talking about that case, you’ll actually be listening to a lecture on the Florida Gators. If you’re particularly honoured you’ll be allowed to view his super special 1995 Gators souvenir ball, that he believes is hand-signed by the squad rather than being printed. It’s printed. Don’t mention it’s printed.” “Understood.” “For a detective that’s quite a blind spot.” “Always wise to avoid sport or religion. Or in this case, potentially one and the same.” “Good call. Then, after the boss has called me an ungrateful
bastard and thrown me out, I’ll show you the exact spot where Miriam and I were
standing when she called me a waste of time.” “She said that?” “At that moment she had a point.” “No.” “You had to be there.” “Ray…” “That done, we’ll go for a stroll and find somewhere to get yet more food: you get to choose, but I will be nudging you towards the pancake house. Then we’ll come back here for you to rest for a couple of hours, pack one whole box, then maybe go out for some sightseeing. Now we don’t need to discuss that case, when we meet up with Max tonight he can bring along his very lovely wife, Shirley, who is far too good for him, and we’ll take them for dinner somewhere fancy. How’s that sound?” “I’m not sure if I’ll need to rest.” “You’re not taking into account the effects of the haircut. Look what happened to Victor Mature.” Ben raised an eyebrow at that. “Samson,” Ray explained. “Y’know, Samson and Delilah. You need an afternoon with Ma watching old movies.” “I’ll bear that in mind. Meanwhile, if I very carefully fold a couple of the boxes for you perhaps I won’t over-exert myself?” “Okay. But I’ll do the tape. Your upper body strength probably can’t cope with packaging tape yet.” Ben turned his head to study Ray in the half light; Ray mirrored him. “I know you’re humouring me, and I appreciate it.” “I don’t know about humouring. Just…think of pancakes and try to get some sleep. If you need to wake me up for anything, don’t think twice, okay?” “Okay.” There was perfect peace for three minutes. “Will your boss really call you ungrateful and throw you out?” Ray shrugged against the pillow. “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.” … Ray was up first, pleased to see Ben fast asleep, and making the most of the almost privacy to check for calls and messages. As time went on with no reports of sightings, Ray was started to feel that Diefenbaker was long gone, and maybe Ben assumed he knew so didn’t need to mention it. When all the other business was dealt with, he’d ask. Not before. No need to pile suffering on suffering. A quick shower and shave, and he managed to sneak into the bedroom to dress before Ben stirred. “Ray?” “No rush to wake up, it’s still early.” Ben stretched and slumped before opening one eye and peering in Ray’s direction. “That was the best night’s sleep I’ve had since they stopped drugging me.” “Good to hear.” Ray wasn’t going to mention that he’d been aware of Ben reaching out several times in the early hours to reassure himself Ray was beside him. However strange the sleeping arrangement had felt to start with, it had worked, and Ray wouldn’t be reluctant to try it again. “Can you help me sit up?” This was becoming routine. Without the overhead grab bar, Ray would ease Ben up until he was balanced, then help him move his legs off the bed. Once that was done, Ben took over, easily moving across to his chair now he was getting more practise. “I’m going to attempt a shower.” “Well, the seat’s in place, but I’m asking you nicely not to lock the door.” “I wasn’t intending to. I don’t like the thought of having limitations, but I’m not fooling myself.” Ben wheeled himself to the bathroom, carefully negotiating the standard width doorways, and the minute he was gone, Ray was back at the gun safe. Inside was a small Smith and Wesson with an ankle holster, and Ray had that strapped on in seconds. When Ben’s paranoia and its cause had been successfully dealt with, no doubt he’d look back and laugh at his precautions, but if Armando had taught him anything, it was to be fully prepared for the thing you absolutely didn’t have to be prepared for. … Breakfast was the food of gods, and Ray would swear he could see Benny put on weight with every mouthful of its gloriously unhealthy goodness. Ray and Ben had taken it in turns to push, or wheel, the chair to the café, Ray preferring it to be his job so Ben didn’t waste a single calorie. Ben went along with what Ray wanted once they left for the barbershop, and gradually became more accepting of his situation, and people’s curious glances. Ray was doing enough overprotective glaring for both of them. They had to wait for a while in the barbershop, but Ben was shockingly okay with them sitting at the window and people watching, throwing out observations and creating back stories to keep themselves amused. None of the back stories featured a psychopath so Ray counted that as a welcome reflection of Ben’s improved state of mind this far from Chicago. Eventually Ben was guided away by a chatty individual with an excellent manner, clearly familiar with accommodating disabled customers. Ray watched with an eagle eye for the first five minutes then, seeing Ben quite relaxed and happily conversing, he picked up a discarded newspaper and lost himself in the local stories. When Ben rolled back to Ray the haircut was a shock. Because Ray suddenly saw Benny, his Benny in front of him, the man he had run out on, and it made his longing to turn back time almost unbearable. But Ray just beamed at Ben’s happiness to be rid of his mop of hair, and complimented him on the absolute Mountie-ness of it. “Where’s your hat?” Ray asked as they left the shop, because all it needed now was the Stetson to make the entire world right. “I have no idea. The uniform wasn’t with the boxes from my apartment either. Maybe I was fired and nobody told me.” “If they’re paying for you to laze around, you can’t have been disowned.” Ben chuckled at the term, but the perplexed expression didn’t disappear for a while. … The visit to the police station didn’t go quite as planned. When Ray and Ben made their entrance Max was up to greet them, throwing Ray a quick hi before shaking Ben’s hand so hard it almost came off at the wrist. He made it clear that Ben’s intervention had taken weeks off his investigation and, going forward, Ben was now his chosen oracle. “Aren’t you going to miss me at all?” Ray asked. “Who are you again?” came the expected answer, and Ray was laughing as he went to find his boss. That wasn’t what was unexpected though. Lieutenant Hazel Frank drew him into her office and sat him down, gently questioning the circumstances of his compassionate leave and intuitively suspecting there was something more than needing time off for an injured ‘family’ member. Whatever he’d said to Ben, Ray knew there was no way Hazel was throwing him out, she’d always been a thoughtful and insightful officer, and her concern was all it needed to allow Ray to unburden himself. He found himself telling her everything: background, facts, conjecture, what Ray didn’t know and Ben couldn’t say, but how this famously brave man now reacted fearfully to every creak of a building settling, or a bird’s shadow passing a window, and his absolute certainty that he was in the sights of this mystery assailant. Hazel took it all in, worried brown eyes fixed unerringly on Ray. “What was your intention today, coming here?” Hazel asked. “I was about to quit.” “Well, under the circumstances, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Being a serving officer puts you in a stronger position when it comes to dealing with this individual. Remain on compassionate leave, keep your badge and gun on you at all times, let me know your movements and… Are you going back to Chicago or staying here?” “I’m just here to pack up for the move to Chicago.” “Is there any indication that this individual has followed you here?” “None. We were careful.” “Can you prolong this visit? I want to speak with Lieutenant Welsh and see what assistance he can offer.” “None of this happened in his precinct. The accident, and where we’re currently living is in the 29th.” “I’ll find out who’s in charge there and bring them up to speed.” “I can string this visit out,” Ray agreed, relieved at how seriously this was being taken but feeling awkward that he had no solid details or description to offer. “But we’re chasing a ghost right now. Until I get Benny to talk… He has PTSD and it’s doing its best to ruin his life. He freezes when we get anywhere near the subject.” “Will he object to me knowing what you’ve told me so far?” “No. Maybe. How can you move this forward with no evidence?” “Let’s just say I’d like the appropriate people to be forewarned. Leave it with me.” “I appreciate it.” “Can I meet him?” “Sure, he’s outside.” They went to the office to find Max midway through the history of the Florida Gators; Ray threw a ‘told you so’ look at Ben, who just smiled and nodded. “Benny, this is Lieutenant Hazel Frank; Hazel, this is Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police.” Ben and Hazel shook hands and made polite conversation for a few minutes before she withdrew, apparently having a few urgent calls to make. Dinner with Max and his wife was arranged for that evening, and Ray guided Ben outside to the spot where Miriam had changed his life forever. “Why did she call you a waste of time?” Ben asked. “I knew she’d come to find you but I thought at least she’d be polite about it.” “She had the bullet…” “Wait. She took the bullet?” “Afterwards she took it away with her so I’m assuming you have it back.” “I need to check.” “Why would you want it? When we get back can we find it and throw it in the trash?” “No.” “The doctor said you didn’t even want it taken out.” “I know it sounds bizarre, but it grounded me. I appreciated the connection.” “You appreciated the bullet I shot you with?” “That’s too simplistic. And it’s now beside the point.” “But you’re keeping it?” “I am. And this particular conversation is over.” Ray’s face was not happy; Ben smiled. “Anyway, Miriam?” “Yes, Miriam. She had your precious damn bullet, told me I’d almost killed you, and questioned why I hadn’t been in touch. I think just calling me a waste of time was her being polite.” “I should have thought things through.” “Do you regret me being involved?” “Absolutely not.” “Then you thought things through enough.” Ben drew breath to continue the conversation, but Ray quickly cut him off. “Hungry?” “No.” “Think you’ll get hungry between here and the pancake house?” “Only if the pancake house is a substantial distance away.” “Yeah,” Ray surrendered his pancake dream. “Hefty breakfast.” “It was.” “Want to see around the place?” Ben stopped to think; the hesitation told Ray everything he needed to know. “Or shall we just go back to the apartment? Make a start on that box?” Ben nodded gratefully, and gestured for Ray to push the chair back to the car. … Despite his earlier protestations, Ben was clearly grateful for the chance to rest, heading to the bedroom and manoeuvring himself out of the chair, attempting to move his own legs but eventually calling Ray in to help. Since the shared bed taboo had now been broken, Ray had no qualms about sprawling out next to him. “You like it here?” he asked. “I do. As much as I like it anywhere at the moment.” “You feel safe?” “I suppose so.” “Safer than the bungalow?” Ben thought. “Perhaps. Or should I say I feel as safe as my…condition allows.” “I get that. I thought we could extend our stay by a few days.” “I take it Lieutenant Frank didn’t call you ungrateful and throw you out.” “I’m not staying around because of that, but you’re right. And I hope you’ll forgive me if I overstepped the mark.” Ray went on to recount the conversation he’d had with Frank, her suggestion regarding keeping his job, and her determination to alert their local precinct regarding the perceived threat. “How did you persuade her to do that?” “I didn’t need to, she knew something was up. I’m guessing that I’m so predictable and boring nowadays that my change in behaviour stood out a mile.” “Reading between the lines, I’m assuming she suggested we stay here longer than planned.” “You mind? Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut but her office is like the confessional, everything just comes pouring out!” Ben chuckled at that. “It would be self-defeating to mind. I don’t honestly see what she, or Welsh, or anyone at the 29th can do, but… I’m grateful for the consideration.” “Changing the subject. I think. How did you feel about being out today?” “Although I particularly enjoyed certain elements, I was never less than anxious.” “I’m sorry, Benny.” “Don’t be.” “I am, because I was going to suggest we go for a drive tomorrow, take in some of the coast, chill out and not think about what’s going on at home.” “Can we see how I feel after tonight?” “And that was stupid, cramming too much into one day. How about I change that to tomorrow evening, and we have the whole day to do nothing beforehand.” “Would you mind?” “No, I should have thought. I’ll call Max now.” Ray got up and went into the living room to make his call. While he was at it, he cancelled Ben’s appointment with Doctor Lee, and checked his voice mails. After a moment of dithering he called Lieutenant Frank, and was brought up to date on her efforts. “Hazel has managed to get the bungalow put on a couple of patrol routes,” he reported back to Ben. “And there’s a sergeant at the 29th whose mom lives two streets away and he’s there a lot, so he’s going to keep an eye out for anyone hanging around. That’s all anyone can do until we have more information.” Ben visibly tensed, clearly knowing what Ray was asking for. But, also clearly, it had to wait. “Your lieutenant is very thoughtful.” “She is. It’s almost a pity we can’t stay here indefinitely. Can’t you ask Canada for a Floridian outpost?” “That’s impossible. How would Diefenbaker find me?” Ray froze. “Diefenbaker?” “Of course.” “Diefenbaker?” “Yes, you know…” Ray’s adrenalin rocketed, then he was pacing around the room so fast he almost took off. “Where the hell is he? I’ve been worried sick about him, not knowing if I should mention him, if he’s even still alive…” “It became necessary to tell him to go away and keep safe.” “Due to the back story I don’t get to hear about?” “Yes.” “And you didn’t bother to tell me?” “I just did.” “Oh, jeez…” Ray scrubbed his hands over his crew cut, not quite knowing whether to laugh or cry. “God, I am so stupidly happy about that damn wolf. How do we find him?” “We don’t. That’s the point.” “Aren’t you worried about him?” “No. I miss him but I’m not worried. He can look after himself.” “What? He’ll actually get off his ass to hunt for prey?” Ben frowned at such an illogical suggestion. “No, he’s highly manipulative. He’ll always find kind hearts to keep him fed.” Ray’s energy drained and he collapsed onto the bed. If he’d been alone he would have screamed into the pillow to let out a little tension. He stared into Ben’s face, astounded by the picture of calm he presented. “You’re really not worried?” “Not about Diefenbaker. So long as he stays clear of me, I think he’ll be safe.” “That’s… Damn, that part of it is horrible.” “It won’t be forever.” Ray closed his eyes and counted to ninety-seven before his eyes popped over again. “I told Hazel about the wolf.” “Is that a problem?” “It is if Dief gets picked up and dropped off at the bungalow.” “Call her.” “Again? She’ll think I’m stalking her. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” “I would have thought you’d enjoy the opportunity to call her,” Ben said leadingly, obviously fishing for information but not exactly sounding like he wanted to hear. “You mean…? Nah. She’s my boss, and we’re actually friends, that’s more than enough.” Ray thought Ben looked pleased about that, but if he’d been worried that Ray might fall for his Lieutenant and abandon him, he couldn’t be further from the truth. Once upon a time Hazel may have been the kind of woman Ray would have dreamed of asking on a date, but he’d long since realised that he was taken. He’d suspected as much for years but figured it out for certain when he’d found he could love Stella, but never be in love with her; how else could he have let her go so easily, and been so delighted by her successful second chance with the Ray that wasn’t Ray Vecchio. “You looked at me quite strangely when you saw me with my hair cut. Just for a moment.” “You caught that? I was back in the past. It was surreal.” “The past where you wanted to go?” “I guess. But I’m not fooling myself.” It made Ray think though, and when it came to missed chances, the last thing he wanted to do was dwell on the past. In fact, he’d be much better off if he stopped being wistful and concentrated on the here and now. “It’s no good, I have to call Hazel and tell her about Dief. You okay here for now?” “Safe and sound, like you said.” “Yes,” said Ray with relief. “Safe and sound.”
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