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be easy, painless. Must be some weird mental association with the fact that it’s a painkiller being used.”
    “That might be,” Doug nodded.
    “So was the kid queer?” Christopher stared at Nate intently. “He even picked a girly way to die. What problem do you and your buddies have with homosexuals that makes it seem like this is okay? He tried to kill himself!”
    “What?” Nate breathed. His eyes had become red-rimmed, and he was still panting. “Caleb isn’t dead. He can’t be dead.”
    Doug tried to keep his voice casual and calm. “It sounded like he survived, but I’m not sure what happened to him.”
    Nate shot up from the table, angry. “No!”
    The stomp of heavy feet brought Terry Marshall back into the kitchen. Doug had to give him credit for not storming in screaming.
    “I… I didn’t hurt him! I never hurt him!”
    “Someone did,” Christopher said, his voice cutting like a razorblade. “Somebody hurt him so deeply, so badly, he dropped out. Sounds like he was trying to run away. But you can’t run away from pain. People, yes, but not pain. Someone hurt him badly enough he decided he’d rather die than live with it.”
    Marshall groaned. “The Owens boy has nothing to do with this. He had problems from the start, even as a little boy.”
    Nate stood up in a half-crouch, like a wounded animal. Tears slipped over his lower lashes. “You knew? You knew about Caleb? And you didn’t tell me?”
    “I heard about it, yeah. It’s a private matter, Nate. It’s not something his parents wanted the whole town talking about.”
    “You didn’t tell me!”
    “I didn’t want you to feel guilty,” said Marshall, reaching out to his son. “He had a lot of problems, even before.”
    Nate ducked away from his father. He sprinted toward the front door.
    Marshall rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “Mind if I get more coffee?”
    “Help yourself,” Doug said. “I’m sorry about that. When he mentioned Jeff Lowe’s done this before, I assumed he… knew.”
    “He wasn’t involved in that.” Marshall sat down at the table with a full cup of coffee. “His mom and I didn’t want him to find out about Caleb’s problems. The Owens live next door to us, and Nate and their son were friends when they were little. We didn’t let Nate associate with him when they got older, because the boy was a bad influence. But Nate wasn’t involved in that shit on the bus. I know he wasn’t, because my wife and I drove down to watch his game. He rode home with us.” Marshall looked at them both. “I like to think, if he’d been there, he’d have done the right thing. He’s trying to do the right thing now.”
    Doug nodded slowly.
    “He is sorry. And so am I. I can’t say I agree with….” Marshall gestured to the two of them. “Your lifestyle, I guess. But I’ve never held it against you. I swear I’ve raised him better than this, but you can’t control what they’re exposed to at school, you know? Whatever happens, whatever the sheriff decides to do with the charges, I just wanted you to know.” He stood up and took a long pull from the mug of coffee.
    “Look, I don’t want to be an asshole about this. You brought him out here, and he did apologize. I’m willing to let it go. I don’t know what the sheriff will want to do with it. That part’s out of my hands.”
    Marshall nodded. “I appreciate that. I guess I should go find where he’s run off to.”

Chapter 3

     
    M OST OF the drive passed quickly, with Doug guiding them down old Highway 93. The road wound through forests, mountains, and canyons, all the way to Idaho Falls. The scenery was amazing, but Christopher hardly noticed. No matter how beautiful or novel the trees and mountains were, all he saw was Peter’s face no matter where he looked. Except when he looked at Doug.
    When he woke up at five that morning, he’d been determined to leave. To go home, to get his life back, and to find a way to put Doug behind