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Beef Matson Archive - Chapter 5 & 6

A Person In A Position of Trust
A Beef Matson Mystery
by Rick Chris
© 2004 Rick Chris
Illustrations and photos ©2004 Rick Chris

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Chapter One - A Unseasonably Cold November

Beef Matson cuddled up snug and warm to the guy he had eyed in the bar and finally asked to come home with him. The other guy was cute, maybe around five foot nine, brown hair with some blond highlights on top and to Beef's delight, he had a lightly furry chiseled chest. Beef felt so perfectly relaxed as he snuggled close to this wonderful little hunk with the only sound that of a drapery cord rapping gently against the wall as a cool, damp breeze crawled in through the window. Then the other guy began to speak.
"You know," said the little guy, "I've been thinking this over. You're a private detective, right? Judging from your apartment you can't be making a a tremendous yearly income."
"What…?" asked Beef.
"Though I'm still in school," continued he little guy, "I expect an entry level accounting position of at least $60,000 a year when I graduate. Obviously, I expect anyone I get involved with to be on par with me financially especially in terms of a yearly income. Therefore, I couldn't really consider a relationship with you since you're not making anywhere near that. You're extremely good looking and have a wonderful body, so perhaps occasional encounters could be arranged when I feel the need for a release."
"Listen, you little twit…," began Beef, clearly very irritated.
"That's your phone, you'd better answer the phone," said the little guy.
Beef could hear the ring. It was his phone.
"You should answer the phone."
As Beef stirred himself to answer the phone. As he did the little guy suddenly disappeared replaced by one of the four pillows he had in his bed.
"A dream, thank God. That little twit was just part of a dream."
The only sound in the dim room was the drapery cord rapping against the wall. Then the phone rang again. Beef swung his hefty upper torso around to get the phone from the night stand. A quick glance through the window showed a early morning view of an unfriendly looking San Francisco Bay, cold looking with lots of low clouds. Beef cleared his throat and picked up the phone.
"Yeah, this is Beef," he announced.
"Randy? A little bit slower, Randy. You're kidding. When did this happened? You're kidding. Have you been charged with anything? Give me a break. Don't worry. I said don't worry. We'll talk about everything when…we'll talk about everything when you get back."
Beef stood up against the bed as he listened to Randy and then sat back down quietly listening for awhile to his assistant. Then he began to speak again.
"Sounds like it's all a bunch of crap. No, get your ass back here. Everything will be all right. Just jump on a plane and come back. Thing's will be a lot better with you back here. Don't worry. Look, you've got a great support network that can work for you here. Just get your things together and get your tush on a jet and come back here. Yeah, pretty chilly here. Pretty cloudy outside, looks really damp - it's two hours earlier here, you know."
Beef paused again to listen to Randy.
"Randy, you don't need that crap. From what you've told me about your family…well, whatever you call those people back there, sounds like something you could expect from them. Just get yourself back here and we'll work things out. Randy, I'll get some great professionals working on your side, just get your body back here. 'Nuff said? Okay, we'll talk about it later. I'll pick you up at the airport, just leave a voice mail for me about your flight number and arrival time. Okay. Take care. Bye."
Beef hung up the phone and stood up and stretched his naked body, thrusting his pelvis forward. Speaking out loud as he continued to stretch, turning his shoulders from one side to another, Beef grumbled to himself, "Man - Randy, it's amazing you turned out as good as you did after growing up with that bunch of low lives."
Beef bent a bit over and took another quick look at the foreboding weather over the bay. "It does not look one wee bit good out there, that's for certain."
The digital clock showed that it was almost a quarter to eight. "Kind of pointless to head back to bed now," said Beef again to himself, "Might as well seize the day."

Beef then made a short walk into his kitchenette and clicked the switch on the coffee maker which shortly began to awake with hissing sounds. Then Beef walked into the small bathroom and began to wash his face and then lather it with shaving cream. When he had finished shaving, the coffee maker was nearly finished brewing a pot. Then by the time Beef had grabbed a mug and put some cream into it, the coffee was finished. Beef took the cup with him back to the bathroom and began to turn on the shower faucets.
As Beef stepped into the shower, he began to wonder if Randy's problem was going to wind up being a big problem or a small problem. "Big or small, big or small…" he muttered as he braced himself against the first shot of the shower spray. The hot spray of water felt good as Beef drenched himself in the water. First he gave his teeth a good brushing and then rinsed his mouth in the shower allowing the water to flood his eyes and nose. Then grabbing the shampoo, Beef first washed his raven black hair and then grabbing the washcloth and the bar soap, vigorously scrubbed his body down. After rinsing himself down, Beef grabbed a spare bottle of shaving cream he kept in the shower. Squirting some shaving foam in his hand he then slapped the foam around his genitals. Grabbing a spare razor he also kept in the shower, Beef gave his testicles a quick shave. Though kind of a hairy guy, Beef liked his balls smooth and thought a trimmed genital area was more civilized looking, plus he just liked the feel.
Turning off the shower, stepping out and grabbing a big fluffy towel, Beef roughly dried himself off. "Oh yes," said Beef in a loud voice, "Now I feel alive." Beef admired his naked self in part of the bathroom mirror that was not fogged over. "Oh yeah boy, you are lookin' good." Beef strutted back into his bedroom. Beef enjoyed being naked in the comfort of his own digs and he especially felt good after the shower. The bedroom seemed colder, probably because of the shower but also because the a stronger breeze seemed to be blowing in through the open window. The drapery cord was now banging furiously against the wall and even the heavy drapes were shimmying around in the breeze. A chorus of fog horns and ship whistles was coming noisily through the window from the bay. This was joined by the siren of a police car and then by two noisy motorcycles. Then symphony was added to by some guy yelling in the street below. Beef shut the window and the room became pleasantly silent. The windows in the bedroom instantly began to fog up because of the humidity pouring out of the bathroom and the chilly air outside. Beef clicked on the radio. The first thing Beef heard was a commercial with Christmas music in the background. "If the commercials are upon us, can Christmas be far behind?", Beef commented.
After the commercial, weather news and a forecast came on. The forecaster told of how an early cold snap was affecting the western United States with temperatures already reaching twenty below in Montana and Idaho with no let up in sight. The forecast assured steadily deteriorating weather conditions for most of California with clouds, fog, drizzle and perhaps some steady rain promised for the San Francisco Bay area. The forecaster stated the present temperature to be 41 degrees.
"Ooh, I am going to need a boyfriend", announced Beef, "A warm cuddly, hunky boyfriend. At least for the duration of this cold weather. Yeah big guy, come cuddle with me!"

******
"…I swear it was giving Berry's mother the finger!"
The heart of a home is the kitchen - old proverb

Beef snagged a pair of white briefs and a pair of white athletic socks from a dresser drawer and put them on. He then went over to the small desk in his bedroom and toyed with the Rolodex until he found the card he was looking for. He pushed his finger down on the card until it stayed in place. The card read:
"Berenice (Berry) Starr, attorney at law. Vigorous defense of the rights of gay people." Beef clicked off the radio and pulling a chair under himself, began dialing the phone on the desk using the number from the rolodex card. The number he dialed range a couple of times and then was answered. A woman's voice said hello.
"Uh - Yeah, hello. Is Berry there? This is Beef Matson."
"You want to talk to Berry?", asked the woman. "Are you a friend of hers?"
"Yeah, she knows me pretty well", replied Beef, "I've worked with her before."
"Are you a boyfriend of hers?", asked the woman.
Beef was confused. "Uh…no. She has someone. A partner."
"Berry is a lawyer", the woman emphasized, "She would make an excellent catch for a guy…"
"Actually", countered Beef, "I'm calling about a business matter. This is very important…"
"I've been trying to get her to develop her social life focusing on some good male companion…" Something interrupted the woman.
Beef then heard voice in the background then some muffling of the phone with some rapping on the receiver. In the background Beef heard a new voice speak to the woman who had been on the phone:
"I'll get the phone. Isn't that movie you wanted to see going to be starting on cable pretty soon?"
Finally a familiar voice was on the phone.
"Hello? Can I help you?"
"This is Beef. Beef Matson. Bobbi, is that you? I need to get in touch with Berry."
"Oh, hi Beef! This is Bobbi. Berry isn't here; she had to run some errands this morning. Can I take a message for her?"
"Oh yeah, sure Bobbi. How are you doing? By the way, who was I talking to? She seemed to want to get Berry paired off with a boyfriend."
"Oh, I'm o.k., I guess, Beef. That was Berry's mother. She's going to be with us for the holidays.
Then in a slightly hushed voice, Bobbi decided to share some concerns with Beef.
"Sorry about her trying to hook you up with Berry, she's kind of aggressive that way. Beef, I don't know if I'm going to be handle this woman all the way through Christmas. She knows all about Berry and I but she hasn't giving up on trying to pair us, and especially Berry, with just about every guy she sees. It's like every year Berry's family goes through this thing of who's going to have her mother over for the Christmas holidays. The thing is, her mother is not very family oriented and she hates the holiday season, so I don't know why she has to stay with anyone for the holidays. Since she and Berry's father got divorced years ago she hasn't developed any relationship with anybody and she hates being around her kids, so like why is she even here? She bases her whole self worth on whether or not men find her interesting and as she is getting older and younger men are not showing interest in her, she's getting into a panic. She feels there's something wrong but she's decided it's because all men are going gay and that men are no longer going to be interested in women and this will be disastrous for women - or at least that's how I understand her. So she's on this kick where she wants to teach me to how to keep men interested in women - like copping feels of strange men in public. Then she tried to tell me how important it was to perform certain really organic sexual acts on men in just the right way. I told her that I just did not want to hear about stuff like that and she gave me this really puzzled stare. Yesterday, I took her grocery shopping with me and the woman wanted me to set up shopping carts to block the aisle so that she could trap men to force them to notice her. Occasionally I'd turn around to find that she'd taken off somewhere down the aisle, stalking some man. Then she was pointing out all these men she wanted me to hit on. It's like mother dear, what part of les-bee-awn do you not understand? Oh gawd!"
"Sounds like she's the holy terror of the supermarket," commented Beef. Beef decided Bobbi needed to vent, so he decided to continue politely listening.
Bobbi continued. "And you know, I love my kitchen and all the home keeping stuff and especially the holidays. Well, Berry's mother thinks anything having to do with the home or kitchen is some sort of evil Martha Stewart conspiracy to enslave women in the kitchen. She thinks that the kitchen is a just a place to put a frozen dinner in the microwave and sit around talking about where to pick up guys. So now when I'm trying to make my home really nice for the holidays, this woman is determined to let me know that she thinks my decorating and cooking is, well - stupid. Yesterday afternoon, I tried to get her in the Christmas spirit by getting the boxes of Christmas decorations from the basement. The best I got out of her was what a waste of time unpacking the decorations was since it would all be put back in the boxes in a few weeks anyway. And then it was how stupid the whole concept of decorating was, how dumb some of the ornaments looked and then…what was the point of decorating a house where just two women lived. Arrrgh! Then Beef, you know what happened next?"
"What?" Beef asked sympathetically.
"I unpacked the angel ornament that we put on the top of our Christmas tree and I looked at it and I swear it was giving Berry's mother the finger!"
"Oh please…", responded Beef.
"No seriously…"
There was a sudden muffled banging sound in the background which interrupted Bobbi.
"Do you want to check that out?", asked Beef.
"I think I'd better…right back," said Bobbi.
Beef waited a few seconds and Bobbi returned to the phone.
"Berry's mother bounced one of my microwave bowls on the floor. Didn't hurt it. It's good that I went to check, though. She was going to try to burn down the house. She had a bag of microwave popcorn set to microwave for seventeen minutes. Actually, that would be good. If she burns down the house and then there is no house for her to stay at and I can have a Christmas in peace.
"Just hang in there," interrupted Beef, "People tend to mellow out during the holidays."
"I can hope," replied Bobbi. "Maybe with a lot of strong hot toddys."
"Your mother-in-law likes hot toddys?" joked Beef.
"Not for her - for me," laughed Bobbi.
"Oh, please…" said Beef.
"I guess I'll just try to take one day at a time. You know even Mr. Jingles and the Lady Astrid stay away from Berry's mother, they hide when she's around."
"Mr. Jingles and the Lady Astrid?" asked Beef.
"Our cats," replied Bobbi, "Berry's mother is not a cat person. Anyway, this whole adventure for the holidays should be a culture shock for Berry's mother. I love to entertain during the holidays and our parties tend to be predominately lesbian. Mother is a wee bit, no, make that a whole lot, uncomfortable with groups of lesbians. So maybe that might take some of the wind out of her sails. It's like being man crazy is the only thing she knows what to do with her life."
Beef could hear more noises at the other end of the line.
"Just a minute, Beef", said Bobbi. "Berry's here, she's just coming in the door. Hold on."
There a was a pause for a few seconds and then another voice came on the line.
"Beef?" asked a female voice.
"Yeah, Berry?" said Beef, "I'd like to retain your services."
"Sure Beef," replied Berry. "Turn about is fair play since you've worked for me on a number of cases."
"Not for me exactly, but I'd like you to represent Randy, my assistant."
"Sure Beef, I remember Randy. What's the problem?"
"Well, no charges yet, but they may come up. Randy's been accused of child molestation. Supposedly, some children he baby sat for when he was a teenager. And a guy he lived with when they were both teenagers may be going to sue Randy for molesting him."
There was a silent pause on the other end of the phone line.
"Randy went back to Illinois to visit with the people he grew up with when he was a teenager. When he got there, they hit him with a lawsuit for molesting this other guy and had the police question him about molesting children he baby sat for back then." "Do you still want to handle the case?", asked Beef
"Of course", replied Berry. "Beef, have you ever noticed any inclination on Randy's part of a well…sexual interest in children?"
"Never. I've always observed Randy's tastes to be in a completely different direction. He prefers big hairy guys. I would find it very hard to believe that he would have an inclination for little kids.
"Randy's attraction to masculine men is pretty apparent," stated Berry. "In some of the child custody cases I've handled, molestation charges against the gay parent will sometimes surface. These always prove to be groundless. Usually it has to do when the other person seeking custody has some involvement with some right wing religious group and they try beating that tired old drum that a gay parent will be a child molester and therefore will be an unfit parent. I always find it suspicious when people wait for years and years, as in this case with Randy, to suddenly decide that some molestation had occurred in the past. Then on top of that, some right wing religious type seems to always turn up to give advice. It always leads me to think that perhaps there might be some other motivations lurking in the background."

Berry scheduled a time for Beef to meet with her in person for a more in-depth discussion of Randy's predicament. The appointment would require a drive out to the far suburbs where Berry had her in home office in the house that she and Bobbi owned, so Beef scheduled for a morning appointment with the idea that at least he would have part of the day left after the long drive.

Beef quickly straightened up the sheets and bed spread and grabbed a large teddy bear sitting in an overstuffed chair near his bed. He placed the bear in the middle of the bed.
"If you're really good, Fred, I'll get you a little bear companion for Christmas. Then you won't have to guard the place all day by yourself', said Beef shaking his finger at the stuffed animal.
Beef's apartment was modest but was nicely furnished with quality furniture and other furnishings which gave it the feel of a small house rather than a walk up apartment. Many of the items in the apartment, such as an ornate dressing mirror, a heavy chest and pieces of artwork, were given to Beef often in payment for his services as a private investigator. Mostly, the accent of the apartment was on comfort with the place having a secure and homey, but masculine feel to it.
Beef continued to dress, quickly putting on a pullover and a clean pair of jeans. He finished by putting on a pair of very clean white athletic shoes. Beef realized that he needed to start the day by getting some breakfast and the meager offerings of his kitchen just wouldn't satisfy his appetite. Beef paused a second and then thought to himself, "The Cozy Cup. I'll grab a bite there. It's still early enough so it shouldn't be that crowded." Beef grabbed his wallet and keys and then his warm winter jacket from the closet near the front door and left his apartment.

Cozy Cup was indeed a cozy coffee shop on the Castro. Cozy, but very popular with a loyal following of regular diners. When Beef got to the Cozy Cup the weather had deteriorated even further, with the wind blowing a spray of chilly mist from the north-northeast down Castro Street. As Beef approached the entry of the Cozy Cup, he had his jacket collar pulled high around his neck and had his hands thrust deep into the jacket pockets. As he opened the door to the restaurant Beef entered into a warm ambiance of laughter, conversation and music, "How Deep Is Your Love" by the Bee Gees drifted out of the loudspeakers as it played on the jukebox. The place had a friendly smell of breakfast and on this particular morning the cafe even had a fresh, clean smell to it along with a spicy smell of reminiscent of Christmas time. Beef noticed that someone had hung Christmas decorations throughout, modest decorations of some evergreens and lights which nevertheless gave the small place a cheeriness, especially on a dreary morning such as this was. Beef looked around for available seating. As of yet, no one appeared to be waiting to be seated but all the seats at the counter were already filled and looking further, Beef noticed that the last empty place was a booth in the back, so he walked back there and sat himself down. The Cozy Cup was an excellent place to people watch and the rear booth was good ringside seat. Blanche and Dorothy were the two middle aged waitresses who were on duty this morning. Blanche was a heavy set, outgoing woman who didn't take any grief from anyone and who frequently exchanged good natured barbs with the customers. Dorothy was a quiet, good natured person with a readily given giggle.

Blanche suddenly appeared at Beef's counter with a pot of coffee.
"Mornin' Beef, coffee this morning?"
"Of course, thanks!"
Blanche poured hot, steaming coffee into one of the Cozy Cup's standard heavy beige colored cups.
"Hey Blanche," inquired Beef as he poured a bit of cream into the coffee cup, "Is it my imagination or is the place a bit more spit and polish this morning?"
"If you mean clean," replied Blanche, "the owners had some cleaners come in this weekend and give the place a real going over for the upcoming holidays. Some little cleaning company run by a bunch of dykes. You should have seen these women, they were all about the same size, a bunch of short stocky gals. They went through the place like a bunch of little tanks, human cleaning machines. After they finished, I couldn't believe it was the same place, everything looked brand new and it even had a real fresh brand new smell to it. Now I even feel safe to eat here." Blanche laughed. "They even steam cleaned the fainting couch in the ladies restroom."
"You have a fainting couch in the ladies room?" inquired Beef. "Do you faint a lot?"
"Only when I have one of my dramas!" Blanche put one of her hands to her forehead and threw a glance up to the ceiling imitating the pose of a silent screen movie star and then laughed heartily.
Breaking the pose, she turned to Beef and asked, "Made up your mind or should I give you a couple of minutes?"
"The usual," answered Beef.
"You make it too easy, Beef. Give a holler if you need anything else. Like our Christmas decorations?"
Beef nodded.
"Dorothy helped put those up. She's got a lot more Christmas spirit than I do."
"Well, you've got a little Christmas spirit," noted Beef, "what's that Santa you've got pinned to your blouse?"
Blanche looked down at the little Santa head.
"Oh, one of the customers gave me this. Watch what happens when I pull the cord on his beard. Santa's nose lights up. Must mean he's got a snoot full."
Blanche laughed and strolled away to give Beef's order to the cook.

"I'll have the dildo supreme!"

Beef watched the ebb and tide of customers in the restaurant. Beef guessed that a number of customers had stopped in for breakfast before they headed downtown to do some early Christmas shopping. An older, white haired lesbian couple stopped at the register to pay their bill and pulled a Santa cap out of shopping bag and gave it to Dorothy, who put it on. A big, burly cop who had been sitting at the counter gave a guy he had been sitting next to a tender kiss and hug and then stood up and left to pay his bill. As these people left they were replaced by even more people who were coming in out of the chilly mist, so that there were now people waiting for available seating. Blanche continued to wait on customers sitting in the booths. At one booth a group of young gay men were feeling particularly frisky. Blanche took the orders of the other men in the group and then paused momentarily for one guy who had mischief on his mind.
"Well, Hon", she inquired, "Have you decided yet?"
"I think…', replied the joker, "I'll have the dildo supreme!"
Blanche arched her eyebrows disapprovingly and responded.
"Precious, what makes you think we would name one of our dishes after one of your boyfriends?"
The other guys in the booth laughed energetically and the embarrassed joker gave Blanche a legitimate order.

Beef's mind drifted back to Randy and he thought how Randy loved the Cozy Cup. Beef knew why. Randy loved old music and the Cozy Cup had a jukebox crammed full of old music. The jukebox was one of those new digital machines with an incredibly large selection of songs and the customers faithfully fed it coins so that the music kept on coming. It never failed to amaze Beef what people wanted to hear as all kinds of music from the middle and late 20th century came pouring out of the loudspeakers. Beef would observe how people's moods would change and they seemed to cheer up when they would hear some song from long ago they had forgotten about. It was always a guess as to what might be coming up next, be it a song by Steely Dan, Ella Fitzgerald, Tony Bennett, Brenda Lee, The Turtles or even some obscure song from the early 1950s. The music was sort of some sort of comfort food for the soul and it seemed to make coming into the Cozy Cup for breakfast or lunch much like coming home for dinner. Someone had apparently already put Christmas music into the jukebox because the next song up was "The Christmas Song" by Nat King Cole. This song had an immediate mellowing effect on the crowd as the conversations became slightly quieter. A young guy in another booth began to snuggle up against his boyfriend as the boyfriend chatted with a third guy seated in the booth. Beef looked at the plate glass windows at the front of the restaurant. The clouds had become thicker and he could see some heavy white raindrops against the backdrop of buildings, almost looking like snowflakes. Beef leaned back into his booth sipping the hot coffee. It did indeed for that particular moment feel just like Christmas. Now if only he had a warm, cuddly boyfriend.
"Here we go, Beef", said Dorothy, standing at the side of his booth with a tray. "Your usual. A Spanish omelet, hash browns, pancakes and orange juice. Shaken, not stirred." Dorothy winked.
"Shaken, not stirred," said Beef, in his best Sean Connery impression.
Dorothy did a double take.
"My gawd!" she exclaimed, "You sounded just like Sean Connery. How do you do that?"
"It's a gift," replied Beef.
"Sean Connery, my favorite." Dorothy held her hands to her chest.
"Mine too!" said Beef, winking.
Dorothy giggled as she walked away.

Beef had an enjoyable, mellow breakfast. He exchanged greetings with a couple of acquaintances who had also stopped in for breakfast. The time Beef spent at the Cozy Cup was mostly uneventful except when the jukebox played "C'mon and Swim" by Bobby Freeman(1) and some queen got up and decided to show the place he knew how to do the swim. Later, a young, slender African American postal carrier came in to deliver a few letters and she attempted stardom by doing a short expressionist dance to "Twine Time" by Alvin Cash and the Crawlers. She even got some appreciative applause from some of the customers and left, blowing a kiss to her fans.

"…maybe San Francisco has a lot of ghosts, a lot of gay ghosts."

Blanche stopped at Beef's booth and put his bill on the table.
"Thanks again, Beef and stay warm, looks like we're in for some rough weather."
Beef told Blanche about the weather forecast he had heard earlier in the morning. "I suppose a cold snap will make it feel more like the holidays," observed Blanche. "My brother was really into the Christmas thing," she remarked as she stared out the windows, becoming uncharacteristically wistful for a few seconds.
"Does your brother live in the area?" asked Beef.
"No…" Blanche paused, "He passed away years ago from AIDS. It's sort of strange but whenever I see some Christmas decorations I'm always reminded of him putting up decorations at his house. Sometimes I have such strong thoughts of him right around Christmas that I think he comes back to visit for the holidays. In spirit, of course. But I guess that's all pretty silly."
"It's not silly if it's important to you," said Beef.
Blanche looked around the restaurant a bit as if to see who was listening to her. "Sometimes I get to wondering about all the gay men who died in this city, if maybe San Francisco has a lot of ghosts, a lot of gay ghosts."
"I never thought of it that way," replied Beef, "You might have a point there."
Blanche smiled a brittle smile and went back to waiting on her tables.

*****

Just outside the Cozy Cup, three women and a young girl were observing the proceedings. The women were well dressed, two in suits and one woman in new designer jeans and very white sweat shirt with a large American Flag on the front. The young girl was dressed in an expensive looking outfit, a dress with matching shoes with her hairdo and manicured and painted fingernails making her look like a miniature beauty queen.
"There, that one in the back booth." Said one of the women pointing to Beef who was getting out of his booth and reaching for his jacket.
"That's the blond faggot's boss."
The other two women jostled to get a better look.
"What a beautiful man," observed another of the women. "It's a shame he's being wasted on this lifestyle."
The other women nodded in agreement.
"This one," continued the first woman, "has been a royal pain in the side to just too many people. But if we can take his little assistant down, they will both fall."
The other women smiled.
The little girl began making a clopping sound with her shoes.
"It's really cold out here", she complained. "Could we go inside and have breakfast?"
"No dear," corrected one of the women, "We would not want to go into this place. This is a sodomite place. We would not want to not socialize with sodomites, let alone eat with them. We'll get something at the hotel."
The three women and the little girl then walked down the street and got into a large, late model SUV.

Chapter Two - Meet Randy Hardwicke

Beef pushed up his collar as he walked out of the Cozy Cup and into still chilly morning air. The sky no longer looked as threatening as it did earlier and the sun was beginning to break through the clouds. The first thing Beef felt he needed to do in this business with Randy was to have a look around his assistant's apartment. A large part of him did not want to snoop around in Randy's place, but Beef realized that Randy's apartment would be the first place that would be searched if there would be an official investigation and better to be safe than surprised. Randy had left his apartment keys with Beef in case there were any problems while he was out of town, so this was simply a case of Beef taking a walk down Castro to Divisadero and down Divisadero until he reached the building where Randy rented a small apartment. As Beef strolled his thoughts turned back to how he originally hired Randy. He chuckled to himself as he remembered having an office for a very short time in a trailer owned by a friend of his and then a tiny office back behind a bar. Then as his business picked up he got his present office in the small building near the intersection of Market Street and Church and then finally he decided he needed an assistant so he could concentrate on the business and have someone else tend to the paperwork, the office and so on. Out of the small parade of applicants that he had interviewed no one seemed very enthused about the job, most were polite job seekers who seemed to be just looking for a job to tie them over until they found something better. Beef found the personalities of a couple of applicants irritating, he suspected a couple others as having a substance abuse problem and some seemed to have way too much attitude and even cast a disparaging eye at his humble office.

Where Castro meets Divisadero

Then there was Randy. Randy found out about the opening through some friends unlike the other applicants who found the opening in a classified ad. Randy apparently had decided the job was just something he wanted to do and again, unlike the other applicants, Randy showed up in a sport coat and a tie, a new haircut and freshly shined shoes. When Randy showed up for his interview as very last person Beef was to interview, the detective had just about had made up his mind to hire the least offensive of the previous candidates. However, there was something about Randy. Randy was a good looking guy, blond and shorter than Beef, around five foot nine inches. Some of the other candidates had been good looking guys, but Randy seemed to have something the others lacked, sincerity and enthusiasm. Randy told how he had just moved to San Francisco and was looking for a position that was stable and in return he would throw himself into the job and Beef's detective agency would be so much better as a result. Beef of course, did not believe that any effort by Randy would have much of an effect on his business but somehow this energetic young guy with a sincerity that seemed genuine along with an unjaded innocence touched Beef. When the interview was over, decided to hire Randy right then and there. Beef was amazed how Randy lit up at the news, as if Beef had just hired him for an executive level position rather than something on the lower end of the economic scale.

Randy did make true to his promise of having an effect on Beef's business. Randy it seemed, was a jack of all trades. Not only did Randy do a bang up job of organizing the files, finally getting them out cardboard boxes and into Beef's filing cabinets, but Randy tackled every other aspect of the office with aplomb and vigor. Over a couple of days, Randy cleaned the small office suite, both his little reception area and Beef's main office, like it had never been cleaned before. Randy even took down the venetian blinds, scrubbing them until they changed from dull lemon yellow to shiny eggshell white. Randy insisted the blinds probably had been hung around 1946 and had never been touched since. Beef's office began to look less of a relic and more alive and shiny. Randy rented a steam cleaner and cleaned the somewhat vintage furniture so even it had a newer look and much fresher smell to it. Randy quipped that he moved Beef's office forward from the film noir era to Cinemascope™ era. Randy's other abilities began to show when he fixed the hardware and software problems with the office computers and even networked his and Beef's computer. Randy even found a nice second hand stereo that someone had tossed out and installed it in Beef's office, wiring the speakers on the wall giving the office a feel of one of a more plush office suite. In fact, Beef found his clients becoming much more relaxed in his office; before it seemed like clients were always looking around at the file stuffed cardboard boxes and maybe expecting a rat to run across the room. Randy also acted as Beef's liaison to the other businesses in the building. The building had mostly gay owned businesses and the owners of those businesses were rather social, liked to have little get togethers now and then, especially for holidays. Beef was not into these social duties so it was nice to have Randy do this and maintain a good neighbor policy. On top of this, Randy was just pleasant to have around. Randy was almost always upbeat, occasionally liked to tease, and he would make wry comments though he would make a point of never being hurtful towards someone.

Randy

As Beef walked up Divisadero nearer to where the building that Randy had his apartment in, the scenery became more bleak and the buildings more run down. There were no houses that had that "painted lady" look in this neighborhood. Everything seemed to be a shade of gray. Finally Beef came to the building that contained Randy's apartment. As he walked up to the front of the building to look at the apartment directory, Beef spied an older man standing a few feet away on the sidewalk. The man rested his weight on a cane and appeared to be disabled, perhaps from palsy. A young woman stood beside the man, her body language and dress suggesting substance abuse and prostitution. The man called out to Beef.
"Who ya lookin' for?", the man yelled with an accent that would seemed to be more at home in a small Midwestern farming town.
Beef walked closer to the man and as he did, he became aware of an odor of urine and alcohol coming from the man. A little trickle of drool drained out of the man's mouth.
"I'm looking for Randy Hardwicke's apartment, I believe it's in this building." Answered Beef.
"Oh yeah, Randy. I know that Randy. He's the one on the top floor. He's got the top floor apartment." Responded the old man. The old man looked Beef over as if trying to decided what kind of profession Beef was in.
"Hey!" barked the old man. "That Randy, he in some kind of trouble? He involved in some drugs or something?"
Beef begun to walk to the front door of the apartment building and stopped, somewhat irritated turned and looked at the man.
"What makes you say that … about the drugs?"
"He's one of those gay kids." blurted the man. "They're always into drugs."
Beef just smiled a phony smile at the man and continued to walk to the apartment entrance. The young woman standing next to the man was whispering something to the old man and pulled him to walk with her down the street.

Using Randy's key, Beef unlocked the lobby door and as he walked into the small lobby of the building a stale smell of urine, cigarette use and just plain decay engulfed him. The building's interior was dark, with dark brownish gray carpeting in the hallways, woodwork painted dark brown and dingy, gray walls. The building seemed to be the total opposite of Randy's bright, optimistic personality.
"Good God, Randy, "Beef muttered to himself, " We have got to find you a better place to live."
Beef found the long, narrow stairway that made it's way up to the floor Randy's apartment was on. Randy's apartment seemed to be the only apartment on that floor. The other doors in the short hallway appeared to entries to storage rooms and one door probably lead to an attic. This floor at least had a fresher smell to it than the bleak hopeless first floor though it was still just as dark and gray.

As Beef got closer to the door of Randy's apartment, he became aware of a cleaner smell and then as he unlocked and opened Randy's apartment door, a fresh, wholesome smell blossomed out. Entering the apartment, Beef began to think of the scene from The Wizard of Oz where the movie switches from black and white to color. In stark contrast to the rest of the building, Randy's little apartment actually looked like a pleasant place to live. It had light, color and it was scrubbed so clean it looked like it did not belong in the slummy old building.

Beef decided to give the apartment a quick look over and be done with it. He decided to start with the kitchen. The kitchen was a small narrow galley kitchen with a small window at one end. Probably to supplement storage space, Randy had pots and other utensils hanging from the ceiling. As Beef entered the galley he bumped his head lightly on a large cooking pot hanging near the entrance. Obviously, Randy's shorter stature helped him avoid collisions with the things hanging from the ceiling. Beef quickly looked over the kitchen area. A paint job that Randy had apparently given the kitchen help disguise the wear and tear. Sharp, spicy aromas emanated from the small kitchen window where herbs grew vigorously from several small pots. Also on the window sill a small citrus tree smelled sweet with white blooms. Beef remembered Randy telling him how all his houseplants including some dwarf citrus trees were seized and destroyed at the border when he moved to California, so this little tree must be a replacement. Beef suddenly turned and walked out of the kitchenette, forgetting the large cooking pot at the entrance to the galley. The pot hit the side his head making a loud, low pitched gong sound like the sound of a bell in a Buddhist temple. Beef winced and grabbed the side of his head.
"You bitch!" he yelled.
Then Beef chuckled and motioned his hand towards the pot much like Curly of The Three Stooges would do and making a sound much like Curly would make.

The largest part of Randy's apartment was a long narrow living room area. Right outside the kitchen galley Randy had a small dinette table which was up against a window that looked out on the street and let a good amount of light in. A larger window was at the other end of the living room but it looked out at the gray wall of the building next door and as a result the rest of the living room was rather dark. Still, the room had a homey look of throw pillows and comfortable looking chairs. The living room was filled with a collection of furniture that Randy had gathered here and there, from rummage sales to dumpster "orphans". Randy told how he was able to pick up all sorts of things for free or next to free when the Internet bubble burst, often picking up something nearly brand new that someone had abandoned at a dumpster. Beef looked about and saw the stereo system remembered how Randy told him how he pieced it together and refinished a cabinet that he had found for it. In and about the cabinet was Randy's collection of CDs and even vinyl albums, most of it old music. On the walls there was a small gay art collection, much of it apparently prints clipped from magazines and nicely matted and framed. There was a small original painting signed by an artist named Rick Chris who Beef had never heard of. From Randy's apartment it almost looked liked Randy was making more than Beef was paying him. It was just that Randy was so darn industrious and creative.

Last to check out was the postage stamp bathroom and Randy's bedroom. The bedroom had a single bed, an end table, a dresser, a couple of small chests of drawers and a small desk on which Randy's computer sat. The small window in the room faced against the same gray wall as the living room window did so the room was dark and Beef switched on a light. Beef was becoming less and less motivated to look through Randy's belongings. Having worked closely with Randy, it was very difficult for Beef to perceive Randy as a child molester, however he knew that if there was to be an "issue" with his assistant, Randy's apartment would be thoroughly searched. Though even if he found going through Randy's apartment more and more distasteful, it was something Beef felt he needed to do. Beef turned on Randy's computer and the machine began to boot up. The computer was used, something else that Randy had acquired, fixed up and upgraded. Finally the computer was operational with the monitor contributing its glow to the room. Beef checked the Internet browser, its bookmarks and history files and found nothing incriminating. Next the detective explored the hard drive and similarly found nothing to suggest a sexual interest in children. Beef shut down the computer and looked over the rest of the bedroom.

The only thing left to explore was the closet, a small oblong space that ran the length of the narrow end of the room. Beef immediately noticed a pile of erotic men's magazines on the floor of the closet. He quickly browsed through the pile of magazines, all of which displayed men of a beefy and masculine nature, pausing only to admire a particularly interesting specimen. Clearly, Randy's interest in men were those of a much more mature nature. Outside of Randy's clothing there was nothing else in the closet except for some shelves at one end at the closet. Randy used these small shelves to display apparent mementos of his younger life. There were souvenir items, a couple small stuffed animals, small toys and a couple shelves devoted to framed photographs. There was a photo of Randy and another young man with their arms around each other, standing outside somewhere, probably in Illinois where Randy grew up.

"Beef Matson, my hero!"

On the floor under the shelves of this mini gallery, Beef noticed a book, a handmade scrapbook. He crouched down on the floor, slid the book out and began to page through it. On the pages of the scrapbook were taped photos and newspaper clippings, clippings about him and the cases he worked on. The scrapbook was a work of art, in which Randy was carefully preserving bits of Beef's career. There were photos of Beef's office and the building it was in. Photos of Beef at his office desk and Randy in the reception area along with photos of the little parties the other businesses in the building would occasionally have. No matter how small a newspaper clipping was, Randy had clipped and placed it in the scrapbook. Whether it was just a mention of Beef being at a social function or winning an award, or just even a mention of Beef's detective agency in a local directory, it had been clipped and placed in the book. Randy had even including all sorts of small, seemingly unimportant items such as ticket stubs, postcards and invitations in the book. As Beef reversed his paging through the book and returned to the inside of the front cover, he noticed something he had initially overlooked. A small piece of artwork that Randy had created on his computer and pasted to the inside front cover read, "Beef Matson, my hero!" Beef swallowed hard and then gently closed the scrapbook and carefully placed the book where he had found it. The detective stood up feeling somewhat disgusted with himself for snooping around his assistant's apartment. As Beef looked around at Randy's humble bedroom, a strong paternal feeling came over him along with an even stronger sense of determination. Whatever storm was brewing around Randy, Beef would shield him and bring his assistant through and out of it. He then left, carefully locking the door to Randy's apartment.

By the time Beef got to the building his office was located in the blue skies had retreated and he was being pelted with a few cold raindrops. As he entered the building, the large, vintage lobby had a sense of security and stability after coming in from the rain. Beef unlocked and entered his office, noticing it was musty, dark and cold after being abandoned for the weekend. Usually Randy had arrived at the office before he did and the place was bright and lit up when Beef arrived. Beef went directly into his office and turned on his desk lamp, and brewed some coffee. He then got out of his jacket, shaking the rain off of it first and hung it in the little office closet. First tending to a few necessary chores, Beef got himself a cup of coffee and checked his voice mail. Then, finishing that he sat back in his chair at his big desk for awhile noticing how dark and quiet his office was. He had left the door opened to the reception room where Randy's desk was. He had not turned on the lights in that outer office. Walking to the reception room with a cup of coffee in hand, Beef paused looking over the small room. How drab and lonely the little office looked without the lights being on and without Randy being there. Beef recalled that last year at this time, Randy was putting up Christmas decorations in the office. Beef decided that when Randy returned to the office, the first thing he would have him do is put up the Christmas decorations, that would make things a lot better.

******

As Beef had asked, Randy had left a message on his voice mail about when his flight would arrive, so the next morning Beef headed down to San Francisco International Airport to pick him up. Surprisingly, this errand down to the airport went smoothly. Randy's plane came in on time, the traffic at the airport wasn't bad and in no time he and Beef were heading back north to San Francisco.

Beef had noticed the change immediately. Randy's manner was sullen, his face ashen, he was radically subdued. It was as if the upbeat, optimistic Randy had left on vacation and this other Randy had come back in his place. As they drove north on highway 101 back to the city, Randy sunk back into his seat totally silent, a condition very much unlike Randy.
"Doin' O.K.?" inquired Beef
Randy turned his head toward Beef and while keeping his head down and just lifting his eyes towards the detective, spoke.
"There was a woman at the other airport, at O'Hare. She yelled at me in the airport. That I should be sent to jail for the rest of my life…for molesting kids. There was even a TV camera there filming the whole thing. Then the security people got rid of her…told her she had to leave. It was…not good."
Randy suddenly turned his head forward and stared down at his knees.
"This kind of business brings out the crazies. She was probably some sort of attention freak," declared Beef. You're back here now, you're in a safe place and for now, that's all that should matter."
Randy appeared unmoved and continued to stare down at his knees.
Beef spoke again.
"This would be a good time for you to tell me about your childhood, your upbringing. Maybe we can figure out how these idiots think they can try and pin this crap on you."
"I've told you all about my upbringing before," replied Randy with a flat tone to his voice.

********

Randy remained silent as his mind traveled back to his past. There were things about his upbringing that he would never tell Beef, that he would never tell anyone. He remembered a teenage memory, a time months after Aunt Marion had died and his Uncle Marty telling him that they needed to have a woman in the house to take care of things and that Uncle Marty had arranged for his niece Sharon to move in with them. He remembered Sharon moving in with her common-law husband and their infant son and her husband's teenage son from a previous marriage. At first it seemed nice to have more people in the big old house, than an ugly reality set in. It would usually happened on a weekend, a Friday or Saturday night. In the very early morning hours it would start with a banging on the front door of the house, a loud jangling of keys in the door lock, the door slamming open and cursing, lots of cursing. From his bed, Randy would next hear crashing in the kitchen downstairs and Sharon cursing, swearing and screaming, often at the top of her lungs. Randy would come to know that when Sharon and her husband would go out on a weekend night, this would be how Sharon behave when they returned from their evening out. Randy would come to know that Sharon's screaming, violent behavior would often last for hours, many times until dawn. Only the duration of the outburst was the only thing that Randy could be reasonably sure of, the actual drunken drama would vary.

Sometimes Sharon would be content to stand on the landing of the stairway and scream curses at everyone in the house. Other times she would hurl endless insults and curses at her husband, language which was previously unknown in the home Randy shared with Aunt Marion and Uncle Marty. During her dramas, Sharon seemed to be determined to show how outrageous she could be, how much she could get away with. Randy remembered the night Sharon begun to punch and kick her husband on the stairs and then Sharon switched tactics and began demanding her husband have sex with her on the stairway. Randy then heard their grunting and wrestling on the stairs with Sharon still swearing and cursing. He could hear Sharon's husband spitting on her and calling her a whore with Sharon laughing and giggling.

Another night Sharon chose to stand in the hallway outside the bedrooms and scream insults into his and Uncle Marty's bedrooms. Sharon screamed that both he and Uncle Martly were sexless morons and that she wanted them both to have girlfriends and described,in very salty language, how she expected to hear them having sex with women when she would arrive home from one of her weekend bar hops.

Another dark night Sharon chose to stay downstairs and entertain herself in the dining room by throwing every plate of Aunt Marion's china collection against the wall until she had broken every piece. There were nights when Sharon would become violently ill and crawl to the bathroom. She would scream at Randy to come and hold her hair while she puked, which of course Randy obediently did.

Randy remembered talking with Uncle Marty about Sharon's behavior. Uncle Marty, who was rapidly growing frail with his health failing, seemed to be reluctant to do anything about Sharon, worrying about who else he could have come in to take care of him and the household. He would tell Randy, "It's just the alcohol, she'll get over it."
Most of the time Uncle Marty would just refuse to talk about the subject. No one in the household would ever mention Sharon's violent behavior. Sharon claimed never to remember the night before, yet Randy would over hear her bragging about her behavior to one of her sisters on the phone. Sharon apparently not only remembered her drunks, but enjoyed them and used them to terrorize the household as her way to let everyone know she was boss. It was as if the happy house he had shared with Aunt Marion and Uncle Marty had disappeared, replaced by this nightmare world ruled by Sharon.

Then Randy remembered the night he finally decided to confront Sharon. The night Sharon had been particularly crude to Uncle Marty, as if she could have been any more crude and on that particular night Sharon's drama had gone on even longer than usual. His heart racing, Randy put on his jeans and a shirt, left his bedroom and confronted Sharon, telling her to have some respect for the other members of the household and for herself. He remembered Sharon standing in front of him, pausing for a second as if in disbelief. Then she let go at Randy, without saying a word, suddenly kicking him again and again, knocking Randy to the hardwood floor and kicking him until Randy was pushed up against the wall. Then Sharon began screaming, calling Randy worthless, a fairy, a fruit, a faggot. All Randy could do was form a ball on the floor and drape his arms around his ribcage as Sharon seemed to concentrate her kicks to that area. Finally, Sharon's husband walked over and casually said in a disinterested tone of voice, "I think that's enough", and the attack stopped.

The next morning Randy got breakfast for Sharon's little boy as he usually did after one of Sharon's "nights" while she stayed in bed nursing her hangover. Randy even brought ice water with lemon slices for Sharon when she complained about her "hot pipes". Randy learned it was important to stay out of Sharon's way even when she was not drunk since she would interpret any assertiveness as a threat to her authority though there were areas in which Randy would refuse to give in to Sharon. Randy for instance, insisted on his privacy when Sharon wanted to be able to see him naked, be it in the shower or in his bedroom. Often Randy would find solace in listening to Aunt Marion's record collection, that brought back comforting memories as a small child when Aunt Marion would play those recordings for him and the other times in his childhood when he would fall asleep listening to the radio in his bedroom that Aunt Marion had switched on to keep him company. Then one day Randy arrived home from high school to find that Sharon had the record collection carried away in the trash pickup; she complained that she was tired of listening to all the "noise".

These ugly memories of Sharon were memories that Randy had restricted to a closed area way back in his mind. The accusations thrown at Randy in the past few days had jarred these bitter memories into vivid recollection. Yet these were memories Randy would never tell anyone.

********

"Randy, you're fading out on me," said Beef, his hand grasping Randy's leg just above the knee and shaking it. "Just a quick chitchat about whatever you can tell me. While we're driving back to the city. Then it's all over and we got it all out of the way. Is that cool or what?"
Beef shook Randy's leg again.
Randy smiled a feeble little smile and began to speak. "From the beginning?" asked Randy.
"The beginning." Replied Beef.
"It's boring."
"Start boring me."
Randy heaved a large sigh and began. He recounted how he was raised by Marion and Marty Hardwicke who he called his Aunt and Uncle though they were not really related to him. His real mother was a woman called Estelle, who had been a housekeeper for the Hardwickes. Estelle was only eighteen at the time when she became pregnant. The Hardwickes were supportive of Estelle during her pregnancy, assuring her she had a place to stay and paid her medical expenses. Estelle would not reveal who the father was and Randy still did not know who his father was. A few weeks after Randy was born Estelle disappeared, leaving Randy behind with the Hardwickes. Marion Hardwicke raised Randy as her own child and Randy even thought that the Hardwickes were his real parents until they informed him otherwise just before he turned teenage. Marion and Marty thought it would be best if Randy referred to them as his aunt and uncle. Marion was convinced that Randy's real mother would someday return for Randy so she thought it would be best that Randy not refer to them as his parents.

Randy bore no ill feelings about his real mother, Estelle. From what he was able to learn about her over the years is that Estelle was a free spirit, or sort of child of the 1970s. Randy was her first child, but she had other children afterward with different fathers, so that Randy had half brothers and sisters around the country. And true to form, Estelle had abandoned all her other children. Randy had accidentally ran into her a couple of times when he was a teenager and that was the limit to his contact with his real mother.

The Hardwickes were already getting up in years and Aunt Marion's health began to fail as Randy neared high school age. Then during his first year in high school, Aunt Marion passed away. Randy and Uncle Marty lived alone for almost a year until Marty's niece Sharon moved in with her common law husband, their small child and her husband's teenage son from a previous marriage. Sharon had visited the house several times before moving in, wanting to move into the Hardwicke home even before Aunt Marion had died.

The arrangement with Sharon and uncle Marty lasted for a couple years until Uncle Marty also fell ill and passed away. Randy then shared the house with Sharon and her brood until Uncle Marty's sister, who was executor of the Hardwicke estate, had Randy move in with her and the Hardwicke house was sold to close the estate. Randy lived for a short time with Aunt Pamela and then after high school, moved out on his own, eventually making it to San Francisco.

"Okay, that's all fine and dandy," commented Beef," But where do you think they're trying to throw these molestation charges in?"
"Well, there's Rocky," started Randy. "Rocky is Sharon's stepson or whatever. He's from her husband's first marriage. Rocky is a year or two younger than I am and since we were around the same age, Sharon decided we should spend a lot of time together. There were nights when the two of us were in the house together and we would start to horse around."
"What exactly do you mean by horsing around?" queried Beef.
Randy sighed again.
"You know, we would just wrestle. Then it got to the point where we would pull each other's clothes off, the loser would be the one who got buck naked first. Then sometimes we would jack each other off."
"That's it…that's all you did?" asked Beef.
Randy, clearly uncomfortable, continued. "That's all we did. We were just kids, it was just raging hormones. We didn't even know what to do, it was just fumbling around."
"No penetration or oral…" asked Beef.
"No!" replied Randy, clearly irritated. "Nothing like that at all."
"Did you ever hold Rocky down…you know, when you were wrestling. That might be interpreted as forcing yourself on him."
"No. Rocky was a big jock in high school and he might have been younger than me, but he was bigger than I was. When he we wrestled, he always pinned me."
"Did you initiate the horsing around?"
"Sometimes. Sometimes Rocky would start it."
"This business about the other kids," continued Beef, "Where do you think that's coming from?"
Randy's shoulders sank as he stared down at the floor mat.
"When Sharon moved in with us, her sisters used to drop their kids off at the house and Sharon would have me baby-sit for them. That used to happen a lot. During summer vacation I would be baby-sitting a lot of the time. Sharon and her sisters used to drop off the kids and head off somewhere. I later found out that they were spending the day at a bar on the other side of town. They had boyfriends there I guess. One of Sharon's sisters…one of her daughters was fathered by a guy she was messing around with at the bar. Her husband doesn't know about it."
Randy shrugged his shoulders.
"I didn't do anything to any of the kids I was watching. I mean, what's sexy about kids? They were a lot of work and when you're in high school the last thing you want to do is spend a lot of time with a bunch of little kids. I took care of all those kids for Sharon and her sisters because I had to, but I really did not enjoy it. The kids liked me but probably because I would spend time with them. If Sharon's sisters had to spend any length of time with their kids they'd get nervous and start beating the crap out of them."

"So the whole thing about the little kids is pretty bogus, right?" stated Beef.
"Exactly." Answered Randy, sounding somewhat exasperated. Beef squeezed Randy's leg just above the knee reassuringly
"That's all I need to know. I'm on your side. What you need to do now is to try to relax and let me work on this for you."
For the rest of the trip into the city, Randy seemed less tense but still sat quietly in his seat, staring out through the window. Since Randy's vacation had ended prematurely anyway, Beef told him to take the rest of the day off. However, he told Randy to meet him at the office the next morning, Randy would need to go with Beef to visit with Berry Starr, the lawyer who would be representing Randy.

************

The next morning the weather could not decide if it wanted to be bright and hazy or foggy and gray, so it tried to do both. Beef picked up Randy at his apartment and they headed south to the Menlo Park/Palo Alto area where Berry and Bobbi owned a cottage somewhere near Stanford University. On the drive down, Beef treated Randy to breakfast from a drive-thru restaurant and they ate on the way as they drove down highway 101. Randy seemed in slightly better spirits after a nights sleep, but still rather flat and non responsive. Beef was concerned. It was as if someone had pulled the plug on his usually animated assistant.

Traffic wasn't any problem this particular morning and they made good time on the freeway. Soon Beef pulled up to the familiar house on a street with lots of shady trees. The sun was shining here and it was warm enough for Beef t leave his jacket in the car. Beef paused a second to let the slower walking Randy to catch up with him. The house had a 1930s bungalow look to it and Beef rang the doorbell next to the heavy wooden front door.

"You might say I'm dressed for sex-cess!"

The door swung open to reveal an older woman neither Beef nor Randy recognized. The woman stared at Beef and a slightly pregnant paused ensued.
"Hi, Beef Matson. Randy and I are here to meet with Berry," Beef announced.
Beef noticed that Randy had quietly moved directly behind him, as if to place Beef between him and this strange woman. The woman had a narrow, gaunt face with sunken eyes. She appeared to be perhaps in her sixties, yet she was dressed in clothes for a woman forty years younger, a tight fitting blouse and in particular, a minidress. Beef found himself staring down at the minidress and the woman's legs which clearly were not meant to be in a minidress. Beef began thinking of Bette Davis in "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane".

The woman caught Beef's amazed glance and began rubbing the palms of her hands on her dress.
"You like this? I saw this on Ally McBeal and knew I just had to have a dress just like it."
The woman attempted a seductive grin and spoke again.
"You might say I'm dressed for sex-cess!"
Beef looked behind him and gave a perplexed look to Randy, who returned a perplexed look of his own. Beef gave his best smile to the woman and spoke again.
"Ummm…Is Berry around? We have an appointment with Berry for this morning," reminded Beef.
"Oh my yes!" responded the woman. "I'm delighted that my daughter has some male visitors; finally she's gone over to the other side of the fence and pursuing a normal sexual life. And with such handsome men as well!"
"I have a business appointment…" persisted Beef.
"Business?" inquired the woman, "What sort of business are you in?"
"I'm a detective. A private detective."
"A detective!" marveled the woman. "Arrest me!"
The woman attempted a pose of a seductress, leaning against the doorway, though she slipped and grabbed onto the door to steady herself.
Beef thought, "Oooo boy!" and felt Randy tightly grabbing onto his jeans belt loops for security.

Just then a familiar face of Berry Starr poked around the corner, observing the situation for a second and then Berry walked into the entry.
"Mother…?" she queried.
Berry's mother struck an authoritative pose and announced, "Your dates are here, dear."
"No mother," Berry heaved an irritated sigh, "A business appointment. Hi Beef, Hi Randy, come on in. This is my mother. Bobbi tells me you've already chatted with mother on the phone, Beef."
Beef and Randy exchanged greetings with Berry's mother who looked cheerful though somewhat perplexed. Hearing the chatter, Berry's other half Bobbi emerged from the back of the house and the group exchanged some initial chatter until Berry led Beef and Randy to her office. Berry's home office was in a sunroom at the front of the house. The office was roomy with a big old wooden desk, overstuffed chairs, bookcases and lots of hanging plants. Three sides of the room were windows which looked out on the street and allowed a hazy sunlight to flow in. Berry offered two overstuffed chairs that faced her desk to Beef and Randy and before sitting at her desk she clicked on an electric heater to take a chill out of the room.

"You'll have to excuse mother," apologized Berry. "I guess you can say she's rather…ahhh…hetero-centric. She doesn't have that house and home sort of focus and she doesn't understand Bobbi and I. I guess you could say she has her own issues. People tell me take after my stepmom, anyway. She's the one who encouraged me to become a lawyer."
Berry laughed a polite laugh and settled down into the chair behind her desk.

The three chatted about Randy's situation with Randy reluctantly repeating everything he had already told Beef. He told Berry how Sharon, the woman who lived in his house when he was teenager invited him back to Illinois to visit for the Thanksgiving holiday. When he got back to Illinois he was instead immediately served with a summons regarding Woody, a teenager who shared his home with Sharon, that Woody wanted to sue him for molesting him and "ruining his masculinity". Randy recounted how the police also interviewed him as a "person of interest" in possible other child molestation charges. During the course of the interview Randy's emotional energy quickly drained, his responses becoming more flat and robotic as Berry tried to ask more questions. About this time a slate colored cat emerged from beneath Berry's desk and announced itself with a quick meow. Berry looked down at the cat.
"Well hello, Mr. Jingles. So that's where you've been hiding yourself."
Mr. Jingles looked about and promptly jumped into Randy's chair. He stood in Randy's lap for a short bit with his tail held high and then laid down, encouraging Randy to pet him, which Randy began to do. Randy was more responsive to the questioning again while he petted the cat, which purred very loudly. Berry was wrapping up her questioning when a knock at the office door signaled another pleasant interruption.
The door opened revealing Bobbi with a serving cart. Mr. Jingles, showing his cat like independence, leaped off Randy and ran out the door.
"Refreshments!" yelled Bobbi. "You cannot conduct business in a civilized manner without refreshments. Thought you might like some hot coffee since this room is always kind of chilly plus I've brought some little snacks to nosh on."
Berry smiled over at Bobbi.
"Some snacks…?" asked Beef. "Looks incredible…smells incredible. What is all of this?"
"Oh, just some scones and cookies and a little something called…Midnight Bliss cake," replied Bobbi.
The group marveled at Bobbi's culinary skills and she left them as they sipped coffee and gobbled down the treats. The coffee break also helped to alleviate some of Randy's tension, while not upbeat, he was at least a lot less sullen. Berry announced she didn't have any more questions and settled back into her chair munching on a piece of Midnight Bliss cake.
"You know," observed Berry, "Some of our dyke friends accuse us of role playing, with Bobbi staying home and doing the kitchen thing. But I figure, we struggled for years to get where we are now. Ate a lot of macaroni and cheese and cups of noodles just to get by plus Bobbi worked for years in that thankless job as a high school counselor. Bobbi's parents never owned a house and she grew up in apartments and she's always wanted a real house and a yard and now we have that. So if the way we live takes the skin off anyone's nose that's their problem, not ours. Plus she is incredibly skilled in a kitchen. Love what she does in a kitchen. Love her."
Randy looked up from slice of cake he was eating and smiled a timid but affirmative smile at Berry. Beef noticed Randy's expression and was glad to see a bit of the old Randy shining through.

Berry had no more questions for Randy and he volunteered to take the dishes back to the kitchen. Beef and Berry stayed behind to wrap things up.
"What do you think?" asked Beef.
"I think," replied Berry,"That Randy is telling the complete truth and this whole business really doesn't have anything to do with him at all."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that, well…I hate to use the term right-wing conspiracy but I think that these accusations may merely be a ploy to discredit you. For instance, Randy made the news this morning, the media spin seems to be that Beef Matson, the famous gay detective has a pedophile as an employee. They also showed a video clip of some woman screaming at Randy at the airport. I recognize that woman, Beef. The same woman shows up to protest at gay events, Planned Parenthood clinics and so on. I mean, it's like she's been assigned to do this sort of thing. And this business with this…the guy who brought the complaint against Randy…what's his name…"
Berry looked at her notes.
"Rocky…yes, Rocky. What's up with this dude? He waits all this time to decide that his masculinity has been ruined just because he and some other guy touched each other's winkies when they were teenagers? Give me one very large break here! I know a ton of gay men who are just oozing masculinity. So like ah…what's his problem?"

"You have to admit, Beef…" continued Berry, "That on some of the cases you've worked on for me and some of the cases for your other cases for gay clients, you've dug up things which were fairly embarrassing for some social conservatives."
"Well, maybe just a little bit." Teased Beef.
"Well, a little bit…"Berry stated sarcastically, "Let's say you've probably pissed off the right wing a whole lot. So it's not unlikely that there are a few people of that persuasion that would want to make life difficult for you. Maybe ruin you…?"
"Could be…", replied Beef.
"With that in mind, Mr. Detective," said Berry, "I think we need to be mindful of dirty tricks. I think some of them have already been played. The first one is obviously Randy being invited back to Illinois by his…sorry, but I'm going to be a wee bit judgmental here, trailer park trash relatives or non-relatives or whatever the hell they are. Then, as soon as he gets there, they hit him with a lawsuit and have the police haul him in for questioning. Excuse me, but why does the term 'low life' keep flashing in my mind? There's another ploy that's going on here. When you want to demoralize someone, you hit them at a time which has a special meaning for them. Like when they're just about to leave on a trip, on their birthday or during a holiday so that person ends up being depressed when everyone is happy. Makes your victim hurt more and be more vulnerable. I noticed this in my child custody cases. Accusations of child abuse always seemed to surface right around some time which was special for my client…usually during a holiday. So having these having these accusations about Randy come out right at the start of the Christmas season is so outrageously suspect, it totally boggles my mind."

Berry nervously rapped her fingers on her desk.
"There are other dirty tricks as well. Over the years when I've represented gay clients regarding employment discrimination or child custody cases I've run into a gamut of dirty tricks. I'm not sure what the purpose of it is except pure out and out harassment, maybe the other side thinks they'll to get me or the client to back off. Things like suddenly some strange woman would be trying to pick a fight with me in a supermarket, my car would get all scratched up, air left out of my tires and so on. The same thing would be happening to the clients, sometimes a bit more, graffiti painted on their houses, somebody they've never seen before trying to pick a fight with them in a bar… One lesbian I was representing in a child custody case found one day someone had filled her mailbox with manure. Some of this might be a way to provoke so the other side can say 'Look what horrible people we're dealing with'. So if some strange things start happening, be aware of what might really be going on."

A sudden rattling came from beneath the curtains next to Beef's chair and a cream colored cat suddenly scampered around the desk over to Berry.
"The Lady Astrid honors us with her presence! Where have you been, girlie, haven't seen you around in quite some time."
Berry reached down and petted her cat and the Lady Astrid immediately jumped into her lap, spun around a couple of times until she found a comfortable place, laid down and promptly fell asleep.

Petting the snoozing cat, Berry continued.

"…not since the transmission fell out of my broom in a ride over Redwood City."

"There are other things you have to be aware of, or careful of, as well. Years ago I was representing a lesbian client in a child custody case. The other side seemed to know everything we were doing ahead of time and both the client and myself were clueless as to how this could be. Then one day a straight woman I knew happened to tell me about a woman who told her all kinds of things about my client and myself. It turns out this woman, who'll I'll call Bessie - was a friend of my client and I knew her as well. Bessie's been around in the lesbian community for years and years and years. Plus, if you looked at Bessie, her looks scream butch dyke…middle aged, overweight, flannel shirt, jeans…the whole stereotype thing. It turned out that Bessie also was friends with a number of very right wing religious women, in fact, it turned out she was really quite chummy with her rednecked, right wing mamas. Bessie was so political and so outspoken, she likes to hear own voice, that no one every considered that she would be that tight with the other side. Then we began to notice that the only time Bessie would socialize with my client was when she wanted to pump her for information regarding the litigation. Then we began to realize other things about Bessie, like she wouldn't attend any gay events, she didn't really like being around other gay people; socially she seemed to prefer her rednecked mamas. So, I had another straight friend that Bessie did not know, chat with her just to find out where Bessie was really coming from. From this woman's chitchat with Bessie, we found out that Bessie was a totally different person than who we thought she was. First off, Bessie viewed herself as asexual or non-sexual and she does not identify with lesbians, she thinks lesbians are dirty and disapproves of the whole scene. Worse yet, she hates gay men like a red-necked guy would hate gay men. Primarily, she seems to be into trying to develop very codependent relationships with her right wing lady friends. Specifically, older women."
"Like a mommy thing?" interrupted Beef.
"Very much the mommy thing," continued Berry. "It's like an extreme mommy thing. Bobbi has her degree in psychology and she explained to me that Bessie is probably an acceptance and approval junkie and needs to get her fix through older women authority figures. Though Bessie likes to rant politically about this or that, she'll switch her views 180 degrees if one of her church lady friends tells her to do that. Anyway, we found that Bessie was trying to dig up proof that my client and, the rest of us for that matter, were involved with witchcraft involving satanic child abuse."
"You back into doing that again?" quipped Beef.
Berry rolled her eyes to the top of her head.
"No…not since the transmission fell out of my broom in a ride over Redwood City."
"Did you confront this Bessie?" asked Beef.
"No. Since I knew we had a mole in our midst, I thought it might be a good idea to put her to use…for our side. We began to give her all kinds of bizarre misinformation which she apparently took back to her rednecked friends. When we got to court, the other side began producing all this obviously ridiculous information…well, long story short. We won."

"Still socializing with Bessie?" "No, she seemed to have lost all interest with her lesbian friends right after my client's trial. No surprise there. I imagine now that I'm representing Randy, that if her church lady friends want her to, she may just suddenly decide she wants to associate with the 'dirty' lesbians again, of course, she may want to know a lot about what's going on with Randy." "Hmmm." Beef shook his head. "An interesting footnote to this is a rumor I heard about Bessie and the church lady who was her 'handler'. The story is that Bessie got to be quite smitten with this older woman and one day Bessie decided to hide out in the woman's home and then join her unexpectedly while the woman was taking a shower." "Must have been quite the religious experience for the church lady," observed Beef. "Probably more like 'Psycho' with a butch dyke twist," smiled Berry with a pert smile. "I hear the church lady promptly got a restraining order against Bessie, though Bessie is still in good graces with her church lady buddies." "Politics makes for some strange bed…" started Beef. "Indeed…" concluded Berry.

Bessie

Berry paused for a second or two and then continued. "I'm worried about Randy…he's taking this very hard. It was almost like it wasn't him in the office this morning. He's always so upbeat; this morning he was just so flat, so out of it."
"Yes, I'm concerned too," said Beef. "Randy's a pretty good guy. He's the most positive, nicest person I know. The only good thing I think that might come out of this is that Randy will finally cut off contact with those idiot people in Illinois. They don't deserve him, they are clueless as to what a gem Randy is. I'll keep a close eye on Randy. Randy likes Christmas, I'll try to get him occupied with that and maybe the holiday celebrations will insulate him against some of this."
Berry smiled.
"My real mother has never been into the parenting thing, but one good thing she did was give me my name. Mother liked to give her kids interesting names and she named me Berenice. I used to hate the name until one day I found out what it meant. It means 'Bringer of Victory'. Good name for a lawyer, don' cha think?"
Beef smiled and nodded.
"You know, I really try to put myself on the line for my gay clients," said Berry with an assuring expression." I approach my cases with a practical and pragmatic approach knowing full well what my clients are going through. I lost whatever fuzzy, sentimental idealism I had years ago. I remember on my very first job there was this woman who told me that the men at work were giving her a really hard time and as a result, she was a having a difficult time finishing her projects. So I decided to help her out in addition to my own work load. Well, she was very happy with me at first, then I found she was spending a lot of time hanging with the guys who were supposedly giving her a hard time. Then she started getting into me about meeting her deadlines and I started noticing that she was absent a lot of the time. Apparently, she liked to party and would show up late and leave early. She would leave me notes that she needed this and that by such and such a time and then she would take off. I found out later she liked to go to concerts and she thought nothing of dumping her work on me so she could go to one. I decided I did not like that at all plus my own work load was beginning to suffer. So I told her she needed to take responsibility for her own work. Then things got really bad - you know, no good deed goes unpunished. This woman got pretty belligerent and told me I had this obligation to help her and that I had made her dependent on me. She also wanted me to somehow get men in the office she was interested in, interested in her. It got to be so silly, it got beyond amusing. She'd throw her work down on my desk and scream at me that she wanted it finished."
"She played you…" added Beef.
"She played me up and down, backwards, forwards and sideways," sighed Berry.
"This woman refused to do her assignments unless I did most of the work for her and I simply didn't have the time to do both her work and mine. Bobbi explained to me that the woman probably had a personality of a narcissistic manipulative sociopath but that didn't comfort me much, I just wanted away from her. The whole thing ended up going to personnel. This other woman claimed that I had come on to her which was just so totally not true. Anyway, it turned out that the company was bleeding money and they decided that the best way to solve a lot of problems was to lay off everybody in the department. The other woman had a new job in a week's time. However, I could not get another job. Knowing how companies operate and share information, I was probably identified as a predatory lesbian. I tried making it on whatever temporary job-from-hell I could find and Bobbi supported us on her high school counselor salary. It was a very long journey, but I finally ended up with the small gay law firm I'm with now. I know that if you're gay, getting and keeping a job is not a piece of cake. Some of the clients I've represented in employment discrimination cases tell me tales of pure horror. So I'm very motivated about defending gay…"

Suddenly, the door knob on Berry's office door began to shake violently and the door quickly swung open. It was Berry's mother. The Lady Astrid awoke and looked up at the figure in the doorway and quickly jumped out of Berry's lap onto the floor, raced around the desk and stopped once under the chair Beef sat in. The cat peered out from behind Beef's ankle. Berry's mother jerked her head back and forth scanning the room and her gaze stopped on Beef.
"So," Berry's mother observed, "this is where you hide your boyfriends."
"Mother…", sighed Berry as she hung her head and stared down at her desk. "Beef and I are finishing up our business meeting."
"Beef…?" asked her mother.
"Mother," restated Berry, "I introduced you earlier to Beef."
Berry's mother attempted one of her sensual poses. "Yes, I know him. He's the one with the fabulous classic car collection. We were quite the couple a few years back!"
Berry's mouth opened for a few seconds without any words coming out.
"Mother, Beef and I need to wrap up some business now. Why don't you see if Bobbi will put on that CD for you that you like? You know, that Bette Midler CD?"
"Oh yes, I know," exclaimed her mother, "Bette Midler sings Rosemary's Baby!"
"Mother, that's Bette Midler sings Rosemary Clooney. Could you just leave us for a little while; I'll come chat with you in just a little bit."
Berry's mother smiled and turned around facing the door, but she stopped cold. Her mother stared at the door she had come in, the closet door in the office and the wall. She was totally confused; it was clear she had no recollection of how she came in or where she was. An expression of both realization and horror came over Berry's face.

************

In a office in a church building somewhere in the San Francisco bay area, sat three women. The oldest, a middle aged woman, sat at a desk while the other two women sat in chairs facing her. A young girl dressed in an elegant dress sat in a nearby chair playing with a beautiful doll while she swung her feet dressed in shiny black dress shoes back and forth in the air. The middle aged woman spoke while the other two women quietly listened. The woman looked about the room.
"I admit I might have had my doubts in the beginning, but the reverend has come up with some nice facilities for us. I think I will indeed pass on a complementary note to the powers that be about him. All we shall have this morning is just a short team briefing. First off, on a matter of team discipline, this office has a number of closets, so please do hang your coats in a closet. I do not want to see a coat lying on the back of a chair. Closets, not chairs, are for coats. That looks so terribly unprofessional…I will only remind you once and then consider it a breech of discipline."
The other two women showed little emotion, only slight smiles of agreement. They knew their team leader, Gloria, showed no mercy towards someone who did not follow her rules exactly. There had been a fourth member to their team, a woman who had the audacity to leave her coat on the back of a chair, not only twice, but three times. Gloria promptly had put her back on a plane to Colorado Springs.

Gloria had two file folders on the desk in front of her. One was marked "Beef Matson" and the other "Randy Hardwicke". Gloria placed her thumb inside the Beef Matson folder, lifted up the cover slightly and had one of her fingers flip through the pages inside.
"Our anti-sodomite project is moving very smoothly and if we continue our team effort, it continue to do so. Ultimately, the uppity sodomite Mr. Matson will be discredited through our efforts. The process of reforming Mr. Hardwicke is continuing; he will soon learn that continuing a homosexual lifestyle will only lead to, at best, displeasure. We will show Mr. Hardwicke that unless he begins having relationships with women, that his life will become more and more miserable. In fact, we have a little unpleasant episode lined up for Mr. Hardwicke today."
Gloria leaned forward and added much emotion to her voice. "I think it's so beautiful this process of breaking Mr. Hardwicke down and rebuilding him as a conservative Christian man. Think how wonderful this is…destroying a man completely so he can be rebuilt as a blond, blue-eyed heterosexual male that any Christian woman would be so thankful for. Don't you think this is so beautiful…?"
The other two women quickly nodded in agreement.

************

With two small Safeway bags of groceries grasped firmly in his hands, Randy trotted down the street on his way to his small apartment. Randy was beginning to put the events of the past few days at least a little bit behind him, stopping at the Safeway on his way home from the office to get some groceries with the intention to go home and regain some normalcy by making a nice dinner for himself. Randy was feeling good and his mind was too focused on making dinner to notice the car suddenly pulling up to the curb.
"Hey, fag boy!"
Randy turned to look behind him, a hulking young man was rapidly approaching him from a car full of youths. A door and windows of the car were open and a vibrating bass beat of hip-hop pounded from the car. There wasn't any time for Randy to respond, he stood, arms at his side, holding a white plastic grocery bag in each hand.
"Try staying away from the little boys, faggot!"
The youth stopped inches away from Randy and lifted up his arm as it to strike a blow. Randy flinched. Instead, the young man had a balloon filled with water. The youth flung the balloon at the side of Randy's head, it burst and flooded Randy's eyes and face with water and raced down the front of his clothes. The youths in the car screamed their pleasure. Randy shook his head to get the water out of his eyes, still gripping his grocery bags. Randy moved one of his feet to maintain his balance but since the pavement was now wet around his feet, his foot started to slide. The youth then slammed another water balloon into Randy's face and Randy lost control over his balance, falling to the ground. He instinctively let go of one of the grocery bags stretching out his hand to break his fall. He struck the sidewalk hard, the pavement stinging his hand. A young woman pushed her body out of the rear car window.
"Yeah, yeah!," she yelled, stretching out her arms with her hands placed in fists.
The young man stood above Randy, grinning. Randy placed himself in a fetal position, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around his waist to protect his ribs, expecting the worst. Instead, the young man ran back to the car, laughing. With the entire group in the car laughing, screaming and giving each other high fives, the car sped off, leaving a scent of burnt rubber in the air.

Randy sat up, sitting in a puddle of water on the sidewalk. One of the white Safeway plastic grocery bags had split open and some of the contents lie on the sidewalk. Randy began to carefully place the contents back into the bag. The sidewalk was busy with pedestrians, but people just stood around staring at Randy, no one offered to help him. Suddenly, a voice spoke to him.
"Take my hand, dear. Let me help you up."
Randy looked up into the face of an frail, elderly black woman. She had her skinny arm stretched out to him. Fearing that he would probably pull her down on top of him, Randy politely refused the offer.
"No…no. I can get up. I'm O.K."
Randy quickly tied a knot in the torn grocery bag and stood up with the elderly lady standing beside him in an effort to steady him.
"Precious," she addressed Randy in a sympathetic voice, "Don't pay those kids no mind. Just no manners. They're gonna get themselves in a world of trouble before they learn any better."
Randy just nodded to the woman in agreement. All he wanted to do now was just get home. The woman spoke again.
"I used to have to put up with a lot stuff like this when I was younger. I remember my fourteenth birthday when my mother had bought me a beautiful white party dress. I was walking home from the store in my dress with some things for my birthday party when some kids jumped out of a car and threw green paint all over me and my dress. They thought they were being so funny when they ruined my beautiful dress. My mother would have choked them all if she'd got her hands on them."
Randy nodded and smiled a sad smile. The woman inquired if he had far to go to get home and Randy assured her that he didn't. With his clothes soaked, Randy began the chilly walk back to his small apartment. The little dinner for himself that he intended to be a new start would now be a melancholy event.

Chapter Three - Tangled Family Webs

Beef enters the lobby of the Harvey Milk Professional Building. (Click on the image above to see it animated.)

It was an early, damp and somewhat foggy morning. Entering the building his office was located in, Beef strolled past the small metal sign identifying the building as Harvey Milk Professional Building and he climbed the short flight of stairs which led up to the lobby with quick, lively steps. The lobby was deserted and the stores on the main floor were shuttered. This time of the morning the lobby had a stern silence, which on this morning was broken slightly by music softly coming from one of the shops. Beef knew the song, it was one that Randy had pointed out to him at the Cozy Cup. The song echoing down the hallway was "The Theme From Mr. Lucky" by Henry Mancini. The song gave the old lobby a 1950s flair and made the old building seem lively even though Beef was the only soul walking through the lobby. The was minimal lighting n the lobby this time of the day added only slightly by light coming in from outside and the night lighting that was left on in the shops. The bright red electric sign above the entrance to the Ruby Slipper restaurant was never turned off and it glimmered on the shiny, waxed terrazzo lobby floor. A sweet smell wafted through the lobby, over the usual smell of floor wax and institutional cleaner smell. Beef remembered. Tony, the owner of Just Desserts, the bakery in the building, had told him he was going to start offering donuts in the mornings, to give Krispy Kreme a run for their money, as it were. Business was slow and Tony thought he try to bring in some more income by targeting the morning commuters. Beef thought momentarily about stopping in to get some donuts for the office then decided against it, Tony and his staff might just be a bit stressed from getting ready for their first morning of a public offering of pastry. Beef would send Randy down later for donuts. The music seemed to be coming from Just Desserts and Beef could hear pans banging and loud talking coming from the store, apparently Tony and his gang were pretty busy.

As Beef continued his walk down the hallway, his athletic shoes barely made a sound on the floor as he quietly made his way unnoticed through the building. Though the detective seemed not to be aware of it, his proud strut and well fitting jeans displayed his hard butt very nicely, to the point observers would point out how well Beef's tush presented itself. Indeed, Beef's almost traditional costume of polo shirt, jeans, waist jacket and athletic shoes filled out by his athletic body, turned quite a few heads.

Suddenly, Beef made a hard right turn and opened an inconspicuous door which lead to a flight of stairs. He made his way up the drafty stairwell and opened the door to the second floor where his office was located. The second floor hallway was sedate, a wooden floor with a runner of fairly new dark blue carpeting down the middle. Beef stopped at the door to his office, a big wooden door with a fogged glass window with black lettering on it which said, "Beef Matson Private Investigations". Beef fumbled in his jeans pocket for a second and pulled out his keys. As he pushed opened the door, he notice a folded piece of paper lying on the floor. Beef picked up the paper and immediately identified it as a flyer from the buildings tenant association. The flyer was about the annual tenants holiday party and holiday season planning session, where the tenants would get together and try to think up ways to increase business traffic during the holidays. Beef tended to think of these meetings as a waste of his time, something that Randy would be more suited for; he would put the flyer on Randy's desk. Randy went to the meeting last year and seemed to enjoy it and even brought back a client referral for Beef.

Reading further, Beef noticed that the meeting would be held at Steve's Ruby Slipper, at least Randy would get a free meal out of the event. Beef thumbed through the list of tenants at the bottom of the flyer, wondering if any new tenants had come into the building. The tenants list read:

The Harvey Milk Professional Building Tenants Association

The Ruby Slipper Restaurant and Lounge
Love To Rub You Massage
Tony's Just Desserts, A Custom Bakery
Tic and Tac's Vintage Clothing for Modern Divas
Minerva's Aromas, Potions and Magick
Once Forgotten Vintage Furnishings and Goods (A second-hand department store)
And Toto Too, Pet Supplies
The Secret Garden, Florists
Carl and Jake's Hair Razin, A Barber Shop
Beef Matson Private Investigations
Dobratz's Investment Services
Gunderson's Photography And Talent Agency

Still the same tenants, Beef observed. Beef chuckled to himself recalling how Randy would report to him the nicknames some of the businesses had acquired. For intstance, Tic and Tac's Vintage clothing was run by two petite lesbians, one Asian and one African American, who were both life and business partners. Beef had no idea how they had acquired the names Tic and Tac. Their shop dealt in upscale vintage women's' clothing with Tic and Tac often traveling to Los Angeles bringing back costumes from motion picture studios for resale in their shop. The shop had a Hollywood studio wardrobe department look to it. Randy reported that the nickname for Tic and Tac's store was "Drag Queens Are Us".

Beef placed the flyer on Randy's desk in the dark outer office. It was obvious that Randy had not made it to work yet. Usually Randy would be in the office when Beef arrived, the door would be unlocked, the lights would be on and Randy would have turned up the heat so the office suite would be bright and warm. It was clear that Randy was still not his old self. As Beef opened the door to his office and switched on the light he turned back to look at Randy's empty desk. He would keep a close eye on Randy.

Randy hustled down the street just outside the Harvey Milk building. After having a hard time falling asleep and a fitful night's sleep, he had overslept. With a Bay Area Reporter that he had picked up from a newspaper box tucked under his arm, Randy hurried to the building entrance. As he turned to enter the building, a middle aged woman walking down the sidewalk suddenly altered her path and stopped directly in front of Randy, who lurched to a stop.
"Oh," the woman raised one of her hands to coyly play with her hair, "I'm looking for Little Orphan Andy's, am I going in the right direction?"
Randy noticed that the woman was standing way too close for a stranger, her big floppy briefcase-like purse banged against his thigh.
"Little Orphan Andy's? That would be in the direction you just came from," replied Randy, puzzled.
"Oh really?" responded the woman as if she were reciting a line from a play, "I just get so confused sometimes. You know what? What I really need to know is the direction to Cliff's Variety."
The woman smiled a sort of silly smile.
"Oh, you mean the Gay Home Depot," Randy said with a confused expression, "That would be on Castro street. But I'm not really sure if they would be open this time of the morning."
"Of course, of course. That's just fine, I just need to get my act together, don't I? You've been such a great help. Thank you so very much."
The woman reached her arm which was holding her purse around to Randy's back and patted him furiously. Randy looked at the woman curiously.
"Thank you so very much!", the woman repeated again, patting Randy on the back and then rubbing her hand rapidly in a circular motion. The woman then abruptly turned and quickly walked down the street, a devilish grin on her face. Randy shook his head and wondered to himself what had been going on with the woman. Randy turned again to enter the building. On his back was a paper that the woman had stuck to his jacket. Large lettering on the paper yelled out, "Pedophile".

There were a few people in the lobby of the Milk building as Randy walked optimistically through the lobby. As Randy passed them the other people stopped in their tracks and stared at the sign on his back. Tony from the Bakery happened to be in the lobby, hurriedly walking back to his shop. He stopped momentarily and exchanged friendly greetings with Randy. Then as Randy continued his journey to Beef's office, Tony's eyebrows arched in astonishment as he saw the paper sign on the detective's assistant's back. Before Tony could respond, Randy had disappeared through the doorway to the stairway, the sound of his rapid footsteps echoing and becoming fainter.

Randy entered the office suite. The door to Beef's office was open and he was standing next to his desk with a cup of coffee in his hand. He called out a greeting to Randy.
"Hey, big guy! How you doing?"
Randy scurried around the outer office turning on lamps and his computer.
"Sorry about being late," he apologized, "I had a late start this morning."
"No need to be sorry about anything," replied Beef as he walked into the outer office, "It's good to see you being late at least once in a while, I was beginning to think you were maybe you're too perfect." Beef suddenly spied the sign on Randy's back as his assistant bent over his desk adjusting some papers.
"Hold on a second there, fella. I think you've got a big piece of lint on your jacket." Beef quickly removed the paper from Randy's back and discretely held it behind his back.
"What was that?" asked Randy.
"Oh, some big gnarly piece of lint," lied Beef. "Did you happen to brush up against someone on the way here this morning?"
"Well, there was this goofy woman right in front of the building this morning. She asked me directions and then patted me on the back as if she was trying to burp me. That's probably were the lint came from."
What did this woman look like?" asked Beef.
"I don't know," replied Randy, "Just some middle aged woman, I've never seen her before, probably a tourist. You really are the detective. You've got to have descriptions of everybody. The 'Case of the Misplaced Lint'." Randy turned and smiled at Beef. Beef smiled back at Randy and put his hand lightly on his assistant's shoulder and squeezed it lightly.
"Yeah, you're right, I just can't stop playing detective."
At that moment there were a couple quick, sharp knocks at the heavy front door and it opened, revealing Tony from the bakery. He was holding a large box of donuts in his arms.
"Just thought I'd bring up a complimentary box of my donuts for you guys," announced Tony.
"Awesome!" exclaimed Beef, flashing a charming smile.
"Cool!" added Randy.
Tony placed the box of donuts on Randy's desk and opened the box. A vanilla-like scent filled the office.
"Wow," said Randy, "There's enough here for to treat the entire floor. Geez Tony, you're such an angel!"
As Randy decided on which donut to choose, Tony turned to Beef.
"Since I brought up the donuts," he queried, "Could ask you some business questions? In private?"
"Certainly", replied Beef, "Ply me with donuts and will more than happy to grant you a private audience."
Beef put his arm around Tony's shoulders and began to lead him into the detective's office.
"Hold my calls Randy, Mr. Stefano and I shall be in private conference."
Randy smiled as Beef pulled the much shorter Tony close to him, clowning as the two walked into Beef's office. As Beef closed the door, Tony's expression became very serious.
"Did you see that sign on Randy's back this morning?" he asked.
"Yes," answered Beef. "He doesn't know that it was there, I got it off his jacket before he noticed it. I suspect some woman put it on him just as Randy entered the building. He said some woman asked him for directions and then patted him on the back. That's probably when it happened."
"Thank God", sighed Tony, "I'd hate to think of him walking any kind of distance with something like that on his back. Who could be that hateful to do that?"
"Some idiot", Beef bit his bottom lip.
"I've seen those child abuse accusations about Randy on T.V." added Tony, "That's not Randy at all. Anyone who knows Randy would know that. I'm so glad you got to that sign before Randy saw it. By the time I saw the sign on his back, Randy was already running up the stairs. I was afraid that he would bad shape once he saw the sign so I brought up the donuts to cheer him up. It's enough that Randy is probably hearing all this stuff about himself on the media and then to have somebody pull a vicious stunt like this."
"Damn stupid people…" Beef mumbled as he placed the sign in one of his desk drawers. "Thanks Tony." Beef gave Tony a big bear hug.
Beef and Tony then had a conversation about notifying the other tenants of the building to keep an eye on Randy especially anyone appeared to be inquiring about Randy or stalking him.

After they had finished their conversation, Beef escorted Tony back to the hallway and staying in the outer office, he then turned his attention to Randy. The blond administrative assistant appeared to be busy bringing the office back to life and doing all the things administrative assistants do. Beef sat on the corner of Randy's desk and picked out donut from the box on the desk. The detective diplomatically began to carefully suggest that since Randy's case seemed to be in the media spotlight this might attract some unwanted attention from some right wing crazies and so Randy should be on his guard to watch for anybody acting strange or maybe following him.
"I'm not trying to make you paranoid, big guy," said Beef, "Just keep an eye open and make sure you let me know if you think there's any funny business going on. I need to know this."
Randy nodded.
"Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary so far?"
Randy shook his head no and focused his attention completely on his computer screen, as if he did not want to hear Beef. Beef looked intently at Randy's face and asked again.
"You sure you haven't noticed anything?"
Randy sighed and averted bringing his glance in Beef's direction, he stared down at his desk. He told Beef about getting hit with the water balloons the evening before.
"Randy!" exclaimed Beef, "That's exactly the sort of thing I mean. You've got to tell me about stuff like that. Don't keep anything to yourself, especially something as outrageous as that."
Randy sat sullen, not moving.
"Hey!" Beef put his hand under Randy's chin and brought his assistant's face up so he could look into his eyes. "Promise me you will let me know about everything that happens from now on, no matter how insignificant it might seem to you."
Randy, looking up at his boss, nodded meekly. Beef then had Randy tell him everything he could remember about the water balloon incident, descriptions of the youth, their car and so on, while Beef made notes. Telling Beef about the incident seemed to lift Randy's spirits, taking a load off his mind as it were. The assistant was in a cheery mood for the rest of the morning, even taking the box of donuts to share with the other offices on the floor. Beef decided that in an attempt to maintain Randy's positive attitude he would take his assistant out for lunch, to Randy's favorite restaurant, the Cozy Cup.

Beef decided to take an early lunch and he and Randy left the building about 11:30. The weather continued to be chilly and gray and the two men march down the sidewalk with their hands in their pockets, a brisk wind pulling at their jackets. The two entered the Cozy Cup a few minutes later, their faces rosy red from the chilly wind. Having made it to the restaurant just before the noon rush the men were seated immediately and service was quick. Customers who knew Randy went out of their way to greet Randy and show affection for him. To Beef, it was obvious that everyone had seen the news reports about the accusations of child molestation regarding Randy and it was equally obvious none of Randy's friends believed the charges.

It was a typical crowd for the Cozy Cup, pleasantly noisy with chatter and the jukebox which the faithful fed with coins. As the restaurant became busier Blanche and the other servers hustled to and fro bringing lunch to the diners. "The Stripper" by David Rose began to play on the jukebox and Banche began to perform an impromptu comic striptease. As Blanche slowly gyrated the crowd giggled and applauded. As Blanche began to slide her blouse off her shoulder, the crowd giggled more and began to yell, "Keep it on, keep it on, keep it on!"

After a few silly poses, Blanche ended her dance and returned to serving tables. Beef observed Randy. Since Randy had returned he seemed to have aged, becoming more serious, less spontaneous. Even the young man's face grew older, becoming puffy and haggard. Every time Beef looked at Randy he saw worry and sadness. But now, these several minutes in the Cozy Cup had changed all that. The youth had returned to Randy's face as he chatted with friends and enjoyed the ambiance of the restaurant, even the perkiness returned to Randy's personality. Suddenly Beef realized why Randy liked the place so much. It was almost as if someone had whispered the answer in the detective Matson's ear. Sure, the old music streaming out of the jukebox was part of it. Now some old Christmas song was providing an audio background and people seemed to be reacting to it, perhaps bringing back memories. It was also the comfort food that was served up in the warm cozy protection of the establishment. The real reason for the popularity of the place was acceptance. Regardless of their personal popularity, everyone was accepted here. The Cozy Cup allowed people to come "home", to be part of a family; what the restaurant really sold was unconditional love. In general, this was like the gay community Beef had come to know. In spite of all the criticisms leveled against it, the gay community was about acceptance. Those who were abandoned by their families for being gay could find a larger extended family in the gay community. Coming from different places and backgrounds, people were like puzzle pieces forming a larger picture. Some were liked more than others but everyone was allowed a place. Acceptance and belonging, Beef realized, were powerful medicines and they were showing their effect on Randy.

************
"We are now in the belly of the beast."

A look through Minerva's shop window as Gloria questions Minerva.

Back at the Harvey Milk Professional building three women were entering the lobby. An older woman walked at the head of the small group, leading the two other women and a young girl followed behind, skipping as she did. The older woman, Gloria, turned to the women behind her and spoke.
"We are now in the belly of the beast," she declared.
"Should we even be here…someone could identify us," stated one of the other women.
"Nonsense," responded Gloria, "No one knows us or even about our little project. We can gather information, even here, with complete freedom. We can snoop all we want right under Mr. Matson's nose and he will be completely unaware. Even if he were to walk right past us."
The women slowly browsed around the lobby, carefully observing each business. "Sodomites, everywhere," lamented Gloria, "Everywhere."
Gloria paused at one store, running her eyes back and fourth at the contents in the store window. She pointed up at the sign with the name of the store. The sign read: "Minerva's Aromas, Potions and Magick". Gloria rapped her finger on the window molding.
"Witchcraft and Satanism…in the very building Mr. Matson has his office," declared Gloria, then she whispered: "As you know, ritual satanic molestation of children figures prominently in the creation of homosexuals. I just wonder how much time Randy Hardwicke spends in this store. I think we should go in and see what we can find out."
Gloria pushed opened the door and the other two women cautiously followed her in. The little girl happily skipped in behind them. The shop had a clean smell to it and old fashioned and forgotten scents greeted the women. The shop was filled with toiletries, soaps, candles and curios. There were some gift items, greeting cards, and towards the back of the store there was a display of dolls with very ornate dresses. The store was strung tastefully with Christmas lights which added a warm glow. As the group strolled up the central aisle towards the back of the store, a couple of wind chimes hanging in the store began to chime mysteriously, though the air in the store was motionless. There was a large old desk at the back of the store at which sat a woman, somewhat chunky in stature, wearing a loosely fitting dress with a flowery pattern. She wore a scarf tied around the top of her head. She had the appearance of a nondescript gypsy fortune teller. As the group of women approached her desk, the wind chimes continued to ring and the woman at the desk looked up, a mildly concerned expression on her face, at the wind chimes and then at the women approaching her. Two cats who had been elsewhere in the store suddenly ran to their mistress at the desk, one leaping on her lap, the other on the desk as if in a protective posture.
"Is there anything I can help you find?" asked the woman at the desk, "My name is Minerva and this is my store."
Gloria, with a slightly snide look on her face, approached the woman. As the group of women stopped at the desk, the windchimes became silent and the sound of music, a woman's voice gently wailing an old country and western song, could be heard faintly in the background, coming from a radio in a back room.
"This shop," Gloria said as she raised her left hand in the air, striking a pose as if she were checking wind direction, "It deals in occult and…ritual merchandise…for use in satanic…worship?"
Minerva frowned briefly and then responded, smiling.
"I have items which might have a use in mystical applications, but there's nothing here that you could call satanic. I don't deal in or have anything to do with what is called the uh…black arts."
Glora turned to the women behind her and smirked.
"Mystical," again queried Gloria, "What do you mean by mystical?"
"By mystical," explained Minerva, "I mean items which could be considered good luck charms, items to help maintain a positive mental attitude, items which help in meditation or prayer; like prayer rugs or candles."
"That statue there," asked Gloria, pointing to a shelf up and behind Minerva. "What sort of idol is that?"
Minerva turned to look.
"That," she replied, "Is a very old statue of the Blessed Virgin."
"Idolatry," declared Gloria with a condescending expression, "Is forbidden by my church…there can be no substitutes for Jesus."
Minerva bit her bottom lip and turned away, maintaining a bland expression on her face.
"Tell me," continued Gloria, "I noticed that that detective that's been in the news lately…because his assistant molested all those children. I noticed that his office is in this building. Do he or his assistant ever come into this store?"
"You probably mean Beef Matson and Randy," replied Minerva, directing her stare directly into Gloria's eyes. "I don't believe there's anything to those charges about Randy because…"
"Oh, you do know who I mean," interrupted Gloria, "Do they ever come into this store?"
"Beef has only been in the store a couple of times, mostly he just waves as he walks past…"
"This Randy," interrupted Gloria again, "Does he ever come in here?"
Minerva cocked her head at Gloria and spoke again.
"Randy comes in here quite a bit. He's a good customer and very nice. Why…"
"I imagine there would be quite a few things in here to keep him entertained. Maybe things he could purchase to help him in whatever rituals he performs…"
This time Minerva interrupted.
"Randy buys candles, scented oils and incense from me, that's all he has ever purchased…"
"Candles and incense…," interrupted Gloria in return, this time with an arrogant expression and tone of voice, "which are frequently used in ritual child abuse!" Minerva developed a determined expression on her face and the large cat in her lap leaned back against her, as if protecting Minerva. Minerva began to respond but stopped when Gloria turned her head and began to yell.
"Chantay, Chantay!"
She yelled at the very well dressed little girl who had wandered a few feet away to look at the ornate dolls. She had her hand on a doll which was dressed in a very ornate 1890's ballroom costume.
"Don't touch anything in here!" Gloria screamed.
The little girl stopped dead in her tracks, a passive expression came over her face and she left her hand on the doll.
"That's all right," assured Minerva, "She's not hurting anything. Little girls are just fascinated with those dolls."
"I'm not worried about the doll," replied Gloria with a very authoritarian tone of voice, "I'm worried about the girl."
Then in a more controlled, quieter and somewhat sarcastic voice Gloria added, "I don't think I would want her to come in contact with your 'mystical' items."
Gloria motioned to one of the women to get the little girl and the woman retrieved her, and Chantay obediently returned with the escort, a very passive expression on her face and a robotic walk.
Minerva gave a short sigh, paused for several seconds and spoke in an emotionless tone.
"The dolls are very popular gift items during the Christmas season."
"Pardon?" asked Gloria.
"Christmas," added Minerva, "Many of the items I stock now make excellent gifts for the holiday. I just strung the Christmas lights the day before yesterday."
There was no response from Gloria.
"The devil cannot abide by Christmas lights," stated Minerva cheerily.
"I beg your pardon," replied Gloria.
"That means, that the devil can't stand to see Christmas lights…it's an old saying."
Gloria rolled her eyes in contempt.
"The lights, the decorations, are all commercialism," Gloria declared, "I keep Christmas spiritually, in the way my church tells me to."
Minerva decided it was best to ignore the woman, giving her a polite message to leave the store. She began to turn her attention to what looked like a felt covered game board. The board was decorated with designs and divided into sections. Next to the board was wooden cup with stone pieces of various sizes and shapes.
"What is that?" asked Gloria curiously, looking down on Minerva's desk.
"Well, this is one of my mystical items that you probably would not be interested in," replied Minerva, not bothering to look up at Gloria. "I designed the board myself after many years of trial and error."
"That some sort of game?" inquired a suspicious Gloria.
"No, not a game." corrected Minerva. "This attempts to show the direction and flow of forces in the universe and how those forces affect an individual. When a person picks up the cup and dumps the pieces in the cup on the board, the pieces align in such a way as to allow me to see how the forces in the universe are affecting that person's life."
"Oh, of course," replied Gloria with a smirk, "Fortune telling."
"It tells me more about the present than it does about the future,' said Minerva, "But yes, you're right. There are sometimes glimpses into the future."
"All by just lifting up this cup," said Gloria as she lifted the cup in her hand, "And just dumping the pieces on the board."
Gloria as a show of contempt, then dumped the pieces on the board and dropped the cup lightly on the desk. As the pieces hit the board, they seemed to quickly move about like little players on some miniature sport playing field. Each moved with jagged movements to places on the board and quickly stopped. Not one piece rolled off the board. Gloria shook her head in contempt and motioned the other women to follow her out of the store. Minerva's eyes widened and she spoke loudly.
"This is very interesting."
Gloria stopped and turned back to the desk.
"What is?"
One of the other women tugged at Gloria's coat sleeve, but she gave the woman a discouraging look.
Minerva continued.
"From this section here…" Gloria pretended indifference and looked away as Minera spoke. "From this section here, it indicates three strong relationships and their end…three marriages and three divorces."
The other two women looked at Gloria, their eyes wide.
"It shows a fourth marriage and a fourth divorce."
"I am not getting another divorce…" interrupted Gloria. Minerva did not bother to look up and continued.
"You seem to be directing something, coordinating something…a project. You direct a number of people. You've done this before, you do this regularly. You do this on orders from a higher up. The board tells me that your latest project will cause big changes for a number of people. When your project ends that will mean changes for those involved with you. It tells me your actions will cause much distress to a number of people. This is strange…I don't understand this. I see evil gathered around you, I see connections with corrupt people. I see a person in great despair, but I also see rebirth, of many things positive. This indicates joy in direct opposition to evil…how very strange. I keep seeing an evil all about you, hiding in shadows, disguising itself…very strange…on the board, evil wants to represent itself as a white knight or a saint. I see a children being used, not anyone related to you, young girls being used, like pawns, a child being made to behave like an adult."
Minerva looked up quickly at Gloria then returned her attention to the board.
"But at the same time I see great joy, the board keeps giving me images of barriers being broken, walls tumbling, glass shattering, paper being torn. I have no idea what that means except that there is a great power behind that. Then suddenly, the board shows evil being trapped and sent on a journey, like down a long hallway. At the same time the board indicates celebration, parties, reunion. I have no idea what that could mean except maybe its referring to the holiday season. Sorry, this is all very puzzling to me."
Minerva looked up at Gloria and made a puzzled gesture with her hands. Gloria looked down at Minerva and dryly spoke.
"None of this means anything to me. My church tells me to put my faith in Jesus and avoid the dark arts."
With that, Gloria turned and led the women out of the store. Minerva looked down at the board and hugged her cat and gently kissed it.

Outside of the store, one of the women spoke to Gloria.
"You know, that woman seemed to be close to target with a number of things."
"Well," Gloria responded cheerily, "We can't put give any credibility to someone who is probably a practicing witch, but she may have given us a prediction in spite of herself. Look at what she said…evil all around us, children being used as adults. Then look at all the sodomites…"
Gloria pointed around to the stores and people walking in the lobby.
"…and then she mentioned someone in great despair and then being reborn…why that's our Mr. Randy Hardwicke. We have to drive him to misery so he can be reborn as a heterosexual. Evil disguising itself as a white knight, that's probably that Mr. detective Matson. As far as the great rejoicing goes, that's probably all the people who will decide to leave the gay lifestyle because of our efforts. And regarding the changes for everyone involved with our project…I take that to mean promotions and being offered better jobs."
The women smiled at each other.
"The bottom line is, however…" continued Gloria, "…is that we should consider the source and probably just forget about her little fortune telling." As Gloria strolled out of the building, she knew that she would not forget this optimistic view of the future. As the three women marched out of the building, the little girl walked sadly but obediently behind them.

************

As Beef and Randy left the Cozy Cup, the weather had again turned for the worse. As the duo made their way back to the office a stiff wind relentlessly drove a heavy mist. The heavy clouds darkened the mid day sky to the point some streetlights came on. Nevertheless, Randy was in high spirits, back to his old self while Beef, unknown to Randy, kept his eyes peeled for any trouble that might be lurking on the streets. Not much was lurking as the streets had become fairly deserted, the weather driving people indoors. When they returned to the office the two men were damp and chilled by the weather. Randy took off his jacket, shook it in the hallway and then placed it to dry on the radiator below the window behind his desk. He went over to the coffee maker and poured a cup.

"Man, I'm froze to the bone!" Randy announced as he sipped coffee and then took a bite out of donut he had chosen from the box on his desk. Beef had removed his jacket and after hanging it on a hook in his office, he peered back through the doorway.
"After all you ate…you're still hungry?" Beef asked.
Randy put down the coffee cup and the donut and flexed his arms.
"I'm still a growing boy!" he exclaimed.
"You'll be a chubby chaser's delight," returned Beef.
"I'll burn it off," retorted Randy. He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a towel and threw it to Beef.
"Here, dry your hair off."
Randy pulled out another small towel out of the drawer and patted his own hair dry.
"You're prepared for just about everything in here, aren't you," marveled Beef.
"Be prepared, that's my motto," answered Randy.

Beef worked in his office for awhile and made some phone calls as well as fielding some phone calls from nosy reporters who wanted ask him questions about Randy. He then returned to the outer office carrying a pen and pad of paper. The detective wanted Randy to give the names and addresses of his accusers along with anyone Beef could interview regarding Randy's childhood years. Since Randy was in a good mood he readily cooperated with his boss and helped Beef put together a list. Beef also got Randy to give him some names of people who might know more about the background of Sharon and his accuser, Rocky. Then Beef returned to his office and studied the list for awhile. He would have to travel to Illinois to interview most everyone on the list. There was, however, one person on the list that interviewing would mean a very short trip. After his Uncle Marty had died, Randy moved in with his uncle's sister Pamela. Though Aunt Pamela and her husband had passed on, they had a son who lived in the house with Randy and that son now lived in the Bay area and worked in Downtown San Francisco. Beef made a quick phone call and was able to reach the young man at his place of work. The young man's name was Justin and he worked at a computer services company which would mean just a short trip downtown. They made arrangements to meet the next morning.

Early the next morning Beef arrived at the company in a large office building and met with Justin in the reception area. They shook hands and Justin led the detective back to a conference room. Justin was a young man in his early twenties, this was apparently his first job right out of college. He explained that he had just moved to the San Francisco area a year earlier. He lived with his girl friend, she had recently lost her job and now Justin was afraid of losing his job as the company he worked for was beginning to outsource most of its positions. He assured Beef that spending this time talking with him would be no problem.

"My job is probably close to being history," he explained. "They have us tech people training our replacements in India…over the phone and by email. They assure us that we will be reassigned, but I noticed that everybody who finishes training their 'outsourced partner', immediately gets pink slipped. We have a personnel manager who's a real animal. When she terminates someone, she waits till they go to lunch and then the person returns, they find their belongings piled by the front door and a security guard tells them they have ten minutes to leave the premises or get arrested. I guess that's what they mean by reassignment. Reassignment to the unemployment line." Justin continued, "My outsourced partner's name is Rapa…, Rapaden…, well, he's supposed to tell the customers his name is Josh. So as soon as I finish training Josh, I will probably find my stuff piled at the front door. So take as long as you'd like."

Beef explained that he just needed whatever information Justin could give him about the time he lived with Randy and any information about Sharon, her family and Woody. Justin explained that there wasn't too much to tell since Randy only lived a short time with his family and worked two jobs at the time. Justin also had limited contact with Sharon and her people.
"I think Randy felt guilty that he was living in our house," observed Justin. "You see, my mother gave him my bedroom and I moved in a bedroom in our basement. I was really young at the time and it didn't bother me, but Randy felt terrible about it. With his two jobs, Randy really wasn't around that much either. I think all he wanted was to get out on his own."
Beef asked about Randy's behavior.
"Randy was a lot of fun when he was around. We'd horse around, he'd play ball with me, took me to drive-ins, shopping malls…took me to the movies a couple of times."
"Did Randy ever make what could be perceived as inappropriate behavior towards you?" asked Beef carefully.
"Oh gawd no," exclaimed Justin. "I just can't believe that stuff in the news about Randy. He was like a boy scout, never even sweared…always trying to do the right thing. Going out of his way to help people. He was always protective of me…it was like having a big brother."
Justin paused for a second and then continued.
"I think he had a boyfriend at the time though."
"What makes you say that?" asked Beef.
"Well, I used to play little games on Randy. I could be a holy terror sometimes when I was a little kid. I used to hide in Randy's closet and then wait until he would take a nap or start reading a book or something…and then jump out of the closet and scream. I'd scare the death out of him and just about sent him through the roof. Then one day I jumped out of the closet and Randy and a buddy of his were standing there kissing. Gave them a pretty good fright. They shuffled me out of the room and told me to go play. I thought it was pretty funny."
"Is that when you realized that Randy was gay?" questioned Beef.
"No, I was too young. The idea that they were kissing didn't really mean anything to me until years later. The thing is, my mother knew Randy was gay. Mother told me that Uncle Marty's wife, Aunt Marion, picked up on Randy being gay when he was a little kid. Aunt Marion supposedly used to joke that someday Randy would pair up with somebody and she would have two sons."
"So your mother told you Randy was gay when he moved in," added Beef.
"Oh no. When Randy moved in I was too young to understand much of anything. Here's the deal. Years later my mother explained everything that had gone on with Randy and why she had moved him in with us. By that time Randy had already moved out. You see, mom was the executor of Uncle Marty's estate. Sharon, her common-law husband, their kid and a kid from her husband's first wife, that's Rocky, along with Randy were living in Uncle Marty's house when he died. Mom decided it would be nice to let Sharon continue living in the house until Rocky and Randy finished high school, maybe even longer. Then mom started hearing all kinds of bad stuff from the neighbors. Really big, noisy parties and along with the parties where there would be fights in the front yard, guys going to the bathroom in the street and so on. Plus mom knew Sharon had only one little kid and the neighbors were telling her about dozens of kids running around the yard. Mom told me she saw the screen door had been pushed out on the front door and the grass was all worn away in parts of the yard so she decided to do some snooping. She showed up a couple of times unannounced and found Randy taking care of a houseful of kids with Sharon no where to be found. What was going on was that Sharon's husband was in construction work and during the summer he would work on some jobs out of town and take his boy Rocky with him. With her husband gone, Sharon would have her sisters and girl friends drop their kids off with Randy and they would spent the day at a bar in some factory district across town where'd they'd party and hook up with some boyfriends. Mother told me that one of Sharon's sisters even had an illegitimate child by some guy she met in that bar. I guess Randy told mom that he was spending most of his time watching all these kids. Mom said she didn't know who half the kids were and some of the kids were even beginning to call Randy "daddy". So mom said about that time, the complaints from the neighbors, plus it was starting to look like Randy was running a day care center for illegitimate children, made her decide to pull the plug on Sharon's free ride. Mom made a surprise visit to the bar Sharon was hanging out at and I guess they had a confrontation. Aunt Marion and Uncle Marty had asked mom to look after Randy, so when she found out what was going on, she basically told Randy to pack his stuff, and Randy moved in with us. Sharon made a big stink about that. That she needed Randy around the house, how much of a good worker he was and the house would be too much work without him."
"And Sharon stayed at your Uncle Marty's house?" asked Beef.
"For a very short time," answered Justin. "Mom decided to liquidate Uncle Marty's estate and Uncle Marty's house was supposed to go to Randy. The problem was, that Uncle Marty and Aunt Marion never legally adopted Randy. So legally, he was in a sort of limbo. And Sharon made another big stink about that, too. Then she tried making trouble, saying that Uncle Marty had promised the house to her. But she had no papers backing that up. Then Sharon threatened mom, saying that she knew Randy was a homo and he should be institutionalized and so on. Mom told her Randy being gay was very old news and being gay was no reason to send someone away. So I guess the estate was just divided among the immediate heirs and mom quietly gave Randy part of her share so he could get started on his own."
"Sounds like Sharon is a real charmer," observed Beef.
"She's a real pit viper," stated Justin. "Mom told me to avoid that part of the family. Sharon, her sisters and I guess there's a brother."
"Sharon had a little boy of her own…" interjected Beef, "Do you know anything about him?"
"Just a little…," responded Justin, "His name is Donnie, Ronnie or Billy or something like that…I guess he married a woman a little older than his mother. Sort of May-December thing, or more like a March-December thing. I understand his wife keeps him a tight rein, she won't let him have much to with even his mother. What can I say…that part of the family…they're kind of like our black sheep. Mom described them as back woods predators, meaning they're always on the prowl to get their hands on someone else's money. For instance, I attended a family wedding a while back and Sharon and her people were there. When they found out I was Aunt Pamela's son they started asking all sorts of questions. I guess they thought my family was rich. I didn't think anything of it until I started getting phone calls and letters from their female offspring wanting to marry me, and these are my cousins. I'm sorry, but I don't want to inbreed."

"A funny thing though," continued Justin, "is that no one really ever told Randy about how Sharon really feels about him. I guess mother did not want to hurt Randy's feelings so she left him out of the loop on a lot of things. Sharon never said to Randy's face what she was saying behind his back. Randy was sending birthday and Christmas cards and gifts to Sharon and her sisters and I guess he still was. I think it's because he considers them the only family he has and just doesn't know any better. If anything, Randy values family. My girlfriend and I always get a nice card from him for Christmas."

Beef still needed to ask Justin about Randy's accuser, Rocky. Justin described Rocky as a big blond guy who liked motorcycles, hanging out at biker bars and was a "babe magnet" and Rocky's taste in women seem to go to not-so-smart blondes. There were also rumors of Rocky's involvement with drug trafficking. Rocky currently had a young blond woman living with him and they were said to have a daughter named Misty. Justin was also able to furnish Beef with an address for Rocky.

Beef was wrapping up his conversation with Justin when the door to the conference room burst open. Three chubby, short women wearing T-shirts, jeans, and flip-flops on their feet came strolling in. One of the women's' flip-flops were a bright neon pink.
"Oh sorry," said one of the women, "Didn't know nobody was in here. You guys gonna be long?"
"We're only going to be a few minutes more," answered Justin.
"Okay," said the woman and the group turned around and walked out, giggling. One of the women could be heard saying, "Oh my gawd, they gots some cute men working here!"
Justin sighed and lowered his head.
"They let the front office admin staff go yesterday. And those are meant to be the replacements."
Beef smiled a sympathetic smile at Justin.
"The personnel people told me I should go back to school for something called nano-technology," related Justin. "I'm still paying for my school loans for an education that got me a job that only lasted about a year. And they're telling me to take out more loans to go back to school so I can get another job. How long is that job going to last? Three months? But then again, they also tell me that the middle class is a holdover from my grandfather's generation…a dinosaur. That I shouldn't expect a well paying job, that I should be happy to get what I can."
They wrapped up their conversation and Justin asked Beef to say hi to Randy for him. As Beef left the office Justin asked one final request of him.
"If you hear of any job openings, anywhere…please let me know."

************
"If there's a body, and it's one you've shot, I'll try to help you, but it'll cost you a lot."

Later in the day, Beef was in his office reading over his notes. The phone rang and he swung his chair around and grabbed the receiver.
"Beef Matson Private Investigations," he answered, "If there's a body, and it's one you've shot, I'll try to help you, but it'll cost you a lot."
"Beef…," said the voice on the other end, "I hope that's not the way you're answering your phone now."
"Well Berry," replied Beef, "I thought I needed a little bit more promotion…besides, I knew it was you from the caller I.D."
"O.K.…" responded Berry in an almost patronizing tone, "I just called to let you know I finally got in contact with the lawyer representing that Rocky guy as well as the police back in Illinois about the possible molestation charges against Randy. I have good news and not so good news."
"That's interesting, because I've got some not so good news about Randy," reported Beef. He then told the lawyer about the harassment involving his assistant.
"Well, that seems to fit in with what I have to tell you," said Berry. "Like I told you…I finally got a hold of a detective with the police department back in Illinois who's involved with the investigation of the molestation charges involving Randy. The guy was nice enough, but as you probably know, the police are kind of closed mouth about their investigations. However, I did find out that they are not pursuing the case any further. What I was able to get out of the cop was that there wasn't any real evidence that would allow them to bring charges. From whoever was making the charges…it seems that like they were getting conflicting stories and time wise…chronologically, things just weren't fitting together. So the police decided that their investigation does not merit prosecution and that's one thing out of the way for our side…so that's the good news."

"However," continued Berry, "In the not so good news department, I also chatted with the lawyer representing Rocky, who's suing Randy for molesting him and ruining his manhood. Incidentally, Rocky's last name is…"
The detective could hear the sound of papers shuffling.
"His last name is Ledbauer. His actual first name is Clarence. Clarence Ledbauer."
"Clarence? My guess is that whoever had a hand in naming him Clarence had more to do with ruining his manhood than Randy" remarked Beef, "I'll make a note of the name and try to avoid him…lest any exposure to me erases what's left of his shrinking manhood."
"Let's hope that doesn't happen to poor Rocky," added Berry. "Anyway, Rocky's lawyer wanted to offer an out of court settlement. This would involve Randy moving back to Illinois and moving in with Sharon, that woman who lived with Randy and his uncle when Randy was in high school. In addition Randy is also supposed to attend some sort of retreat where he will be reeducated to respect women and become a good attentive husband. If he does that, Rocky will drop the suit against Randy."
"Hmmm," mused Beef, "That retreat…do they teach guys how to be good gay husbands?"
"Afraid not, Beef. The retreat teaches men how to be good right wing religious straight husbands. I'm sure it's actually some sort of brainwashing event…if they were to get their hands on poor Randy, he would emerge with a ton of self hatred and start 'remembering' how he had been molested by a homosexual when he was young, how he molested all numbers of kids himself…and that you and he are part of some satanic child molesting cult."
"Rats!" replied Beef, "And I thought they might be able to fix me up with a good boyfriend."
"What Rocky's lawyer proposed to me…" continued Berry, "Does not make any sense. None of it at all makes any sense. First off, how is Rocky's manhood going to be repaired by having Randy move in with Rocky's stepmom and having Randy attend classes to learn how to become a good right wing religious husband? Stupid. Very Stupid. I can't see the purpose of being a suit against someone when you are not going to benefit from it. Having Randy move in with Sharon…what? Is he trying to make a gift of Randy for his stepmom? This is just a wee bit weird."
"From what I've been able to gather so far from an interview with a family member…" added Beef, "Weird is par for the course with this family."
"Well," said Berry, " I laid all this on Bobbi…she does have a degree in psychology…and I asked her what she thought of this strangeness. Bobbi told me that even though they were not related blood-wise, that Sharon's relationship with Randy when they lived together should have been on the order of mother-son or maybe sister-brother and right now it appears, at least to Bobbi, that Sharon seems to be looking at Randy as husband material. Rocky's lawyer tells me that Sharon's husband passed away a short time ago, so this could be a possibility. Bobbi's view is that someone who was in a position of trust should not be seeking out people they cared for to be their spouse. Bobby suggests there may be a lot of dysfuntionality going on."
"That could very well be an understatement," added Beef, "We are not going to accept this out of court settlement, are we?"
"Of course not," affirmed the lawyer. "I just told the other lawyer I'll get back to him after I confer with my client. I'm convinced now more than ever…especially after you told me about the harassment Randy's getting, that this whole business is a sham, just window dressing for something else. For instance, the day after I talked with Rocky's lawyer, I started getting bombarded with phone calls, e-mails and even a few faxes, urging me to settle out of court or stop representing Randy altogether."
"Who you getting the calls from?" inquired Beef.
"You could call them the usual suspects," answered Berry. "Sometimes when I represent a client, usually in a job discrimination case, I will get a lot of calls from women urging me not to represent my client or not be aggressive in handling the case. The women who call me are women who normally, if I see them at some business function, will give me cold shoulder…cold as in absolute zero. Yet, when one of my cases is apparently bugging somebody in the corporate world, suddenly these women will decide they know me and try to make me feel guilty about the way I am handling my case. I finally figured out that there's some sort of good old girls network at work so that when I stand my ground for my client some lady exec will call her buddies, who call their buddies and they call me to tell me that I'm being a bad girl and how bad I'm making it for some poor rich lady exec who might lose her job…which is highly unlikely… if I win my case. I realized that these phone calls are merely a cheap way for the other side to try to and pull a fast one on me. I guess their rational is that because I'm a lesbian I will fall to my knees in complete obedience if another woman contacts me and want to do anything she tells me. Besides, I've learned that if there really is a poor lady exec, she's got a golden umbrella for protection if anything happens where as my client… who on many occasions also happens to be a woman… does not have a golden umbrella, has only lost her job because she's gay, and has a right to damages, severance and the right not to be blacklisted from getting another job."

Beef asked about what sort calls she was now getting regarding Randy's litigation. Berry explained the phone calls, emails and faxes she was getting seemed to follow a couple of themes. The first theme was that homosexuality was caused by molestation of children and that Randy was probably spreading homosexuality by molesting children and therefore Randy had to be stopped and put away somewhere. The second theme was less concerned with child molestation and more concerned with the gay community itself. It was an irrational concern that the gay community was becoming too accepted and too "uppity". That demands for gay rights and gay marriage were going over the top and the gay community needed to be put down and shown its place. That if this wasn't done, things would become bad for women in that men would leave women in droves for other men.
"One email I got …" recalled Berry, "Tried to give me the idea that women end up abandoned, out trudging in the snow with a baby in their arms if gay marriage is approved. Of course, if something were to happen to me and Bobbi couldn't get benefits because of a lack of gay partner rights, she could end up trudging out in the snow, on an ice flow even, with one of our cats in her arms, wrapped in a little blanket."
"Sounds like something D.W. Griffith would film," added Beef.
"Exactly," confirmed Berry.

Berry related that some of the phone calls and emails targeted Beef, attempting to portray the gay detective as a woman hater who went out of the way to make problems for women. That Beef had to be punished for his behavior.
Berry commented, "I do know that you made problems for some women on my request, like that woman who had been hired by a company to seek out and terminate all its gay employees. When you came up with that internal memo describing her mission that really helped my case considerably."
"I try my best," responded the detective.
"One of my callers referred to a woman…" continued Berry, "They described her as good Christian woman who was struggling to eke out a living as a landlady until you ruined things for her. I was told her name was something like …Dulcinea."
"Oh yes…Dulcinea," said Beef recalling an unpleasant memory. "Dulcinea was a landlady all right…the landlady from hell. She managed a dilapidated old building. One day, some of the tenants realized they were getting sick on a frequent basis, not just sick but really sick. Then the tenants who were getting sick realized that they had one thing in common…they were all gay. So they got together and contacted me to see if I could find out why. At first I thought it might be this crazy old guy Dulcinea had for an assistant manager. This guy had a reputation for being a right wing crazy, you know, sending nasty letters and putting up posters and the like. He also had a mental issue…if he didn't take his medication, he'd get kind of antisocial."

"However, when I installed mini cameras in the tenant's apartments I was able to find out the true culprit. It was Dulcinea herself. Turned out she was putting water she'd collected from the sewer in the basement into liquids in the tenants' refrigerators."
"Oh yukko!" yelled Berry's voice from the phone.
"Plus she also had a habit of spraying pesticide on the tenants's carpeting and furniture while they were out. Why exactly she was doing this we were never able to find out. We do know she was not too fond of gay or lesbian tenants, but what she exactly thought she would accomplish from poisoning them, I have no idea. As far as ruining her, well, she actually did more of that herself. Prior to my investigation she had been under observation by the authorities for fraud related to things like food stamps and what have you…she was a very busy woman. So when her poisoning habit was revealed, when she made it to court, it was decided that she was just plain crazy and the decision was made to put her in a nursing home rather than jail."

Berry added that she was also being encouraged to leave the homosexual lifestyle and that her life would be just be so much better if she had a nice man she could rely on and lean on. Some of her callers told her how important "really nice men" were to straight women that getting Randy and Beef to leave the gay lifestyle would spur an exodus of gay men to become heterosexuals. It was also suggested to Berry that Beef might be made available to her as a really nice husband, if she would just encourage Randy to settle out of court and do exactly what the other side wanted.
"Your lady friends seem to be expecting a lot," observed Beef, "I didn't even realized I was up for sale on the slave block."
"You have to realize Beef," said Berry, "That these some of these women have a rather ante-bellum value system. Besides, I was told that getting you was not guaranteed. There apparently are a number of other women who have dibs on you."
"I guess I'm supposed to be flattered…?" asked Beef.
"Well," added Berry, "Wait till you hear what I was told about Randy. Apparently, word has been passed down that Randy is a real catch. First, that he's a cute, blond, white male. Secondly, I was told what a good worker he's supposed to be, and how nice he's supposed to be…"
"Randy would also fetch a good price on the auction block," laughed Berry.
"These women leave no question that they feel they are at the top of pecking order." stated Berry. "They give me the impression, that as a lesbian, I'm supposed to be their inferior and devote my life to serving straight women and that the gay community is supposed to be nothing more than a brothel where women can go to pick out 'perfect' gay husbands. They seem to have this view that women's movement is nothing more than the last great hope to save heterosexuality."

Berry also revealed that some of the emails, particularly some anonymous ones, were a bit on the threatening side. Some suggested that Berry choose the "carrot" or the stick would follow. Some equated her, Beef, Randy and the gay community with immorality, Satanism and the like. There were suggestions that judgment was at hand and punishment may soon follow. Finally, Berry related that a final phone call about Randy's case was from her old acquaintance, Bessie.

"Bessie is a very good barometer about what the religious right is thinking," Berry observed. "Since Bessie will only give me a call when her right wing church lady friends want her snoop on me, I thought it was only a matter of time before I got a call from her regarding Randy's case. First off, she went on about how concerned she is about obscene broadcast content and how TV and radio must be strictly censored. Then when she got tired about flapping her jaws about that, she went on and on about how I should not be representing gay men or child molesters…like Randy. She also wants to visit me in person so she can bring her point home."
"So have you invited her over for a little chat?" asked Beef.
"Oh God no," the lawyer responded energetically. "When Bessie talks to you, she can go on forever, like Fidel Castro giving a speech. Plus she demands complete attention, you must give her complete eye contact at all times. She's got this very high shrill voice which gets higher when she decides to make a point, which is often. I really don't have time or the patience to put up with one of her diatribes, especially when she gets on how she thinks lesbians should behave. Basically she feels that lesbians were put on this earth to serve straight women…sort as a penance for being gay. Bessie seems to cling to a Victorian idea of how a lesbian should behave. That a gay women should never leave home and live isolated, in a room in the attic where her mother could keep a very watchful strict eye on her. If the woman should any signs of independence or gay behavior, her mother would beat her severely. Actually, the beatings are something I think Bessie would enjoy."
"…'sides," continued Berry, "My hands are full at home right now, partly the reason I decided to come into the office that past few days rather than working out of the home office."

"How's your mother doing?" inquired the detective.
There was a slight pause and Berry continued.
"I got my mother in for an appointment with my doctor, the day after your last visit. After my doctor did a short examination, she told me mother is probably suffering from Alzheimer's along with complications from mother's years of substance abuse."
"I'm sorry," interjected Beef.
There was another short pause and Berry began speaking again.
"When mom and dad got divorced years ago, we kids were led to believe that mom wanted out of the marriage because she was tired of playing mommy and being a wife, she wanted her freedom back. When mother would get into one of her moods, she would tell us just that…that she thought of us a nuisance. You see, during a divorce there are things that the kids are never told, that the family keeps under wraps. That was the deal with mother. It wasn't until we kids were all well into high school that we were told about the real reason for mother's behavior. Apparently, mother had some serious substance abuse problems, which explained her behavior and mood swings. We also learned that dad and my stepmom had been quietly working behind to scenes to get mom off the booze and the pills and keep her clean…even long after the divorce. But I guess it had been a losing battle. My mom is very strong willed and if she decides to get stoned…she will get stoned."

"Still my siblings and I tried to keep an eye on mom over the years and we would always make sure she would be with relatives during the holidays. Though my sister and brothers and I would argue as to would have mother, since she can be a handful when she wants to be, we would always make sure she would spend the holidays with one of us. I guess mom was showing signs of Alzheimer's, but we kids just mistook as part of mother's usual outrageous behavior. I checked with the manager of the building where mother has an apartment and he thought her behavior started changing about a year ago. Mother was constantly forgetting her laundry in the laundry room, she'd walk into someone else's apartment and think it was her own, and so on."

"I arranged for mother to go into the hospital for a few days for tests, so I know exactly what's going on with her. I hated to have her go right around Thanksgiving, but at least I will know about her condition. At least she will be with me for Christmas and then my family can decide what we need to do so mom is safe."

"How's Bobbi doing?" asked Beef.

There was a pause on the other end. Unknown to Beef, Berry was wiping her moist eyes.

"Bobbi is fine," reported Berry. "She's getting a rest while mother is in the hospital. Bobbi finally told me that mother had been running her ragged since she's been with us. So it's good that Bobbi's able to get her breath back and take it easy for a few days. Except…" "Except what," asked the detective. "Well," continued the lawyer, "My sister asked Bobbi and I to take care of her little daughter for a few days. Things were going great until yesterday morning. Little Jennifer had been watching Bobbi put up Christmas decorations and she decided to lend her hand at decorating. So she got a big sack of flour from the kitchen and a big box of detergent from the laundry room and…" "On no…" added Beef. "You guessed it…" confirmed Berry, "She decided to make it snow in the living room. She was very thorough and creative. She even made snow drifts in certain places. She was even able to get "snow" on top shelfs and furniture by throwing it up there." "I imagine Bobbi was not too happy…" guessed Beef. "That would be an understatement…" reported Berry, "Bobbi didn't lose her temper, she did more what you would call a very slow burn. Her face kept getting redder and redder and she kept wondering aloud if everybody connected with my family had 'issues'. So finally the issue with the artificial snow was resolved when I suggested that we bring in some professional cleaners to clean the house for the holidays. After that, Bobbi was a bit more of a happy camper. But I decided it would be best to come into the office to work for a few days rather than working out of my home office."

Beef and Berry ended their conversation with Berry expressing her view that charges brought against Randy along with the litigation had nothing to do with anything that either Randy or Beef had done, but rather that whole thing seemed to be engineered by anti-gay zealots who were looking for a way to trash someone with high visibility in the gay community…perhaps as a message and a way to put a chill on growing gay visibility and demands for rights. Both Berry and Beef cautioned each other to keep an eye out for possible harassment and dirty tricks.

************

Bobbi walked out of the front door of the house she and Berry owned with her young niece in tow. Even though it had become a bright, hazy day, it was still chilly and damp but Bobbi did not feel the short walk to the mailbox did not require coats for her or her young charge. Jennifer, her young niece immediately raced off the sidewalk and ran around the lawn in small circles, her little arms outstretched. She was making a buzzing sound.
"Are you an airplane?" asked Bobbi.
"I'm a jet!" announced Jennifer as she put her arms behind her and ran faster in larger circles.
"Jennifer," said Bobbi sternly, "Come back here with me on the sidewalk. Some of the cars just race by on the street here."
Jennifer immediately zoomed her way back to Bobbi's side and leaped, landing on her feet right next to her caretaker.
"Does your mother have you drinking coffee?", smirked Bobbi.
"No," answered Jennifer, "Coffee is for grown-ups! Coffee smells good but tastes real bad. Yuk!"
The little girl looked up at the older woman.
"Are you still mad at me, Auntie Bobbi?" Jennifer looked up the older woman.
"No hon, I wasn't really angry at you…it's just that your decorating was a such a surprise…an incredible surprise…I feel much better now that all the flour and detergent you sprinkled around my living room is all cleaned up. Just from now on please ask me before you decide to do any more holiday decorating. Anyway, your Auntie Berry and I decided to have professionals come in and clean the house for the holidays, so something good came out of your little snowstorm."
Jennifer stayed at Bobbi's side as they strolled the sidewalk with little girl making a point of leaping over each crack in the sidewalk. The reached the end of the sidewalk at the curb and as Bobbi reached up to open the mailbox, little Jennifer began jumping up and down.
"Let me get the mail, Let me get the mail!" insisted Jennifer.
"Okay," said Bobbi patiently, "Just let me get the lid open first."
She opened the mailbox lid and the little girl rapidly reached up to grab the mail. "No Jennifer, No!" screamed Bobbi.
Bobbi grabbed Jennifer's little arms and held the girl close to her and away from the mailbox. Bobbi could see that someone had placed a used hypodermic needle carefully on top of the stack of mail. It's shiny and sharp needle tip glistened in the hazy sunlight and pointed outward.

Chapter Four - There's More Where That Came From

One of the first phone calls of the day that Beef received was from Berry Starr. She was agitated and proceeded to tell the detective about the used hypodermic needle in her home mailbox.

"Bobbi called the police right away…" related Berry, "When a patrol car finally did arrive, the cop didn't even come to the door…just sat in her patrol car and honked the horn. So Bobbi went out to the cop car, told the cop about the needle, offered to get it for her as evidence, and the cop basically told her she wasn't interested. That she wasn't interested in something that trivial, that someone would have to be dead first before she could get involved. Actually, the patrolwoman seemed more interested in who Bobbi shared the house with, because she kept asking questions about the relationship Bobbi and I had. When Bobbi asked her to come in the house and talk with her, the cop refused and acted like Bobbi was trying to jump her bones or something. All the while Bobbi was trying to talk with her, this woman kept chomping on a donut and sucking down coffee. Talk about living the stereotype! Finally, when Bobbi told the cop she was concerned because her niece almost got stuck by the needle, the cop told her that there was no point in talking to her any longer and told her she was being hysterical. As long as I have known Bobbi, she has never gotten hysterical. Hysterical is not in her character. When Bobbi gets upset, she does this slow burn thing…and that's all she does."

"So…" continued Berry, "I called some people I know in our local municipal government and if they wanted hysterical…I gave them hysterical. I am not above getting hysterical. After my phone call I had not one, but three patrolcops show up. These guys were even willing to come in my home and chat with Bobbi and I…without gobbling down coffee and donuts. They even took the needle as evidence…they made a point of handling it with rubber gloves. However, they told me there was probably nothing they could do regarding the mailbox incident. They also insisted that if a needle stayed in out in the cold for any length of time that any possible viruses on the needle would be dead. I didn't completely buy that, but I got the impression that these guys didn't want to deal too much with the needle issue either, so I didn't press it."

"Then this morning, in the mail at the office, I got this letter. In the envelope there was the typical hate mail stuff…quotes from the Bible…fire and brimstone stuff about homosexuals going to hell…and hateful anti-gay quotes from some radio preachers. However, in addition, there was a page which had a copy of a picture of a hypodermic needle on which someone had written in block lettering…there's more where that came from."

"Well…" said Beef, "That certainly paints a more serious picture. Here's what I would like you to do. Call the FBI and tell them everything, especially about the letter you just received. This is obviously a hate crime and those involved in hate crimes frequently cross state lines to commit the crimes. I have faith in your ability Berry, to convince whatever agent you talk to that this something they should be interested in. Secondly, after you talk to the FBI, contact your local police again and tell them about the letter. Also, make a point of letting them know you have contacted the FBI It's a funny thing, but local police departments suddenly forget about donut addictions and obsessions with being rude when the Federal Bureau of Investigation becomes involved with something in their jurisdiction. Either the police or the FBI will want the letter, but send me a copy as well. I'd like to compare it with the collection of anti-gay hate mail I have in my files."

Berry sounded a bit more relieved after talking with Beef and she added that there wasn't anything more to tell him about Randy's case. Beef told the lawyer he would soon be heading to Illinois to interview people in regarding Randy's situation and he would get back to her with any information he was able to uncover. The detective also gave Berry some of his observations regarding Randy.

"From the little bit of background information I have so far…" said Beef, "I'm getting the impression that the only person who has been abused has been Randy. I've observed that Randy behaves like someone who has experienced violent, abusive behavior in the past. When a person is subjected to chronic, violent treatment…they tend to be quiet about it because they know that complaining or reporting it will lead to punishment and more violence. So that person comes to expect violence against themselves as a normal part of life and their sense of self respect and self worth gets messed up as well. I'm beginning to see that in Randy and the more I learn about this Sharon character, the more I suspect she was the abuser and it's pretty ironic, but I also suspect that when this whole mess is cleared up, that the real and only victim of abuse will turn out to be Randy."

After ending his phone call with Berry and looking at the mess on his desk, Beef began to realize that it was going to be a busy day.

Randy paused for a second before deciding to disturb Beef. He knocked on, then opened Beef's office door.
"Beef…" he said quietly, "I got a call from Justin. You know, you interviewed him…my aunt Pamela's kid. I guess the company he works for decided to close down the local office…but one of the execs at the company wants Justin to go in with him to set up some sort of internet spam operation…"
"Tell Justin that…" Beef started.
"…The thing is that the exec wants to put the whole set up in Justin's name," interrupted Randy.
"Oh geez…" moaned Beef, "Put Justin through to me…I should probably talk to him."
Randy quickly went back to his office and switched Justin over to Beef's phone, asking the detective to switch Justin back when they were finished talking. He could hear Beef in the next room.
"Justin…hi-ya…"answered Beef, "Hey…Randy just told me about this spam thing. Don't do it. The clue is that this exec type wants to put everything in your name. That probably means he's some sort of scum ball who's gonna try pulling a fast one. Oh…you think so too. And leave you holding the bag…use you as a patsy. There's a lot of illegal and fly-by-night stuff connected with spam. My suspicion is that this dude has concocted some scheme to make himself some bucks fast and then disappear leaving you to face the legal music. Yeah… Yeah… I had a case for an elderly woman a while back who had some corporate exec type volunteer to help her set up a web site to showcase her antique collection. Seems like the guy not only squirreled her domain name away from her but was redirecting traffic from her site to an porn site somewhere in Asia. Not good. Nowadays I see corporate execs as being the same thing as con artists. Yeah…well. Okay. Get yourself a job at a fast food joint first before you do anything with this character. Okay…sure…take care. Randy! Switched Justin back to you."
Beef could just about hear Randy through the open door.
"Yeah…glad he could help you…" said his assistant quietly, "Yeah, you take care…let me know what happens. Yeah, he is pretty cool…really neat guy to work for, too."
Beef straightened up in his chair. He cocked his head to one side, licked one of his fingers and then made a mark with that finger on an imaginary board in front of him.
"I guess that's one point for me," he said to himself.

There was a knock on the door and Minerva from the aromas and potions shop very politely strolled in. Randy got up from his desk to greet her and closed the door to Beef's office on the way, the detective seemed to be very busy and smiled a thanks at Randy as the door was being closed. Randy and Minerva exchanged greetings and the detective's assistant noticed that Minerva was carrying a leather bound case.
"What can we do for you today, Minerva?" asked Randy.
Minerva flashed a very sincere smile.
"The word was passed around to the businesses in building to report any strange people hanging around, or any people asking questions about you or Beef. Well, I had some women in my shop who probably fit that description. I'd also like to give you one of my readings…for free…complimentary."
"Oh…well…for free," said Randy, "That would really fit into my budget…that'll be fun…thanks!"
Randy cocked his head and pulled one of the old leather chair for Minerva. The woman smiled and sat herself in the chair.
"Beef's really busy today," stated Randy, "If he doesn't have time to see you, you can give me the description of the women who came in your shop and I'll write up a report and give it to Beef."
"Could I give you my reading first?" asked Minerva, "and maybe by the time we're finished, Mr. Matson will have an opening for me."
"Oh sure," Randy smiled, "You want me to clear off a space on my desk for you?"
"No, this will be just fine," replied Minerva as she placed the case on her lap and removed the felt board, pieces and cup from inside and placed them on Randy's desk. She carefully scooped up the little ornate pieces and placed them inside the wooden cup. She handed the cup to Randy.
"Now just dump the pieces on the board. Don't throw them…just let them fall."

When Randy carefully turned the cup over, the little stone pieces fell to the board and whirled around and quickly arranged themselves like soldiers racing to get themselves in formation. Smiling, Minerva repositioned herself in order to get a better look at the board. As she stared at the board her smiled disappeared to an expression of concern. Then quickly regaining her composure she attempted a smile, her eyes darting back and forth across the board.
"O.K., what's it supposed to say?" asked Randy.
"Oh…well…yes," stammered Minerva, "One of the things the board indicates is that you…may be going on a very long trip."
"That would be nice…" sighed Randy, "I just came back from a trip…and as you probably heard…it wasn't a lot of fun. Hope the board says I'm coming into a lot of money so I can go on the trip, because I'm pretty well tapped out right now. What else does it say?"
Minerva attempted to conceal her feelings of concern. While she adjusted her position in the chair she decided she wouldn't lie to Randy, she would just not go into detail.
"Well…" she started, "The board suggests you will be reuniting with someone who was very close to you…probably soon. The board shows a move…like a change in where you live. It shows you…like hiding in shadows…so you can be protected from something. I'm not sure what that means."
Minerva looked up at the young blond male's face. He looked young, innocent and gentle.
"The board says that there are some dangerous people near you. You need to be watchful…some of these people might try to hurt you."
Minerva looked up again at Randy, his face was emotionless, slightly puzzled. "That's all I can tell you from this reading," spoke Minerva. "Would you please check to see if Beef has some time for me now?"
"Er…" said Randy rising from his chair, a puzzled tone in his voice, "Sure…let me just rap on his door."
Beef agreed to break away from his other work and see Minerva. Minerva marched into the detective's office carrying her case. Beef shook Minerva's hand gently and offered her one of the frumpy leather chairs in front of his desk. Minerva sat in the chair with her arms placed over her carrying case which she had across her lap. She gave Beef her testimonial about the ladies who appeared in her shop. Beef seemed very interested about the women and made many notes. Then Minerva wanted to give Beef a reading using her special board. At first Beef refused, however Minerva pressed him and he relented. Beef ran his hands through his ample head of hair, messing it, and stretched, saying the reading would make for a good diversion.

Minerva set up the felt covered board on Beef's desk and put the stone pieces in the wooden cup and gave the cup to Beef. She told him to just to pour the pieces from the cup onto the board. Beef did and the pieces bounced on the board, whirled about and formed a pattern. Beef remarked that the board must be magnetic in that none of the pieces moved beyond the board's edges. Minerva looked over the board then began massaging her chin with one of her hands. Beef leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.
"Well, what's it say…" the detective laughed, "Money…riches…incredibly cute boyfriends?"
Minerva gently smiled at Beef.
"The board tells me you are on the verge of making discoveries, of getting control of things. It shows you as the warrior, the protector, the guardian…like of a household, a community. And it also shows you as a master trickster, an illusionist…the tricky fox. I see people who are not what they seem to be…like actors playing a part. But there are other tricksters, associated with forces that are against you. See this square here, that's the castle…it represents your home, business, community. The other tricksters are around your castle which means others who are trying to cause you harm are close by. You should be on guard against those who might cause you harm…maybe someone might try to play a dirty trick on you."
"Would that include hate crimes?" asked Beef sternly.
"Yes, that would," answered Minerva who continued with her reading. "The board also shows the possibility of great personal harm to you…during the next few weeks. It would be best to keep a very watchful eye during this time. The board also shows you disrupting something, like interfering with someone's plans…something on the order of knocking down a set of dominoes."
"Well…no riches or boyfriends," commented Beef, "I guess by now I should expect that will be my lot in life."
"I need to voice my concerns to you," said Minerva as she put the board and pieces back in her case. She told Beef about the reading she gave to the woman who came into her shop as well as Randy's. Both readings disturbed her greatly. What disturbed Minerva about the woman's reading was that it showed the woman as a facilitator or coordinator of evil works, part of a network along evil to do its nasty work. That the people involved with her network portrayed themselves as saints or white knights, yet they were involved with doing harm to others, spreading despair, hatred. Minerva was convinced from this woman's reading that the woman's efforts was about to cause, through a chain of events, a great event; though Minerva was not able to tell what that would be. Minerva was doubly concerned about Randy's reading. Randy's reading also showed he was also under attack by outside forces, and it also showed a coming great loss or despair. The symbolism Minerva saw in Randy's reading she only saw when she gave readings for people who terminally ill, a connection with the other side, meaning…death. Minerva was very, very concerned for Randy's safety during a coming upheaval which she was certain would occur soon. Beef's reaction was not one of amusement, though his comments to Minerva were gentle.
"Minerva," said Beef as he folded his hands on his desk, "It's always been my way to respect the beliefs of others, but my type of business requires me to base my beliefs in logic and deductive reasoning. I appreciate that you came to me with information regarding the women who came into your shop. I'm fairly certain they have something to do with Randy's situation…but that's based on my reasoning. To be perfectly honest with you and I do not wish to offend you…I would have a hard time working on anything based on information from a reading…especially when we're talking about cosmic upheavals or whatever. I apologize if I'm coming across as mister hardnose, but I do appreciate your concern. If it will make you feel any better, I am already determined to make sure nothing happens to Randy and I will devote all of my efforts to make sure nothing does."
"No Beef…" replied Minerva, "You have not offended me in anyway. I expect reactions such as yours from people who are, well…outside my profession. But you telling me that you will look out for Randy is all I need to know to feel better. I believe you will do exactly what the universe needs you to do."

*********

Gloria commanded Bessie to get on her hands and knees on the floor. Bessie complied and Gloria commanded her also to remove her flannel shirt and bra; Bessie very quickly did as she was told. Gloria had a metal yard stick in her hand and she began to whack the large woman on the floor below her across the back.
"I hope this teaches you to be more productive!" screamed Gloria as she whipped the stick faster and harder against Bessie's naked upper torso making the skin redden and form welts. "When I want you to find things out for me, I want you to produce results!"
Bessie's plump legs shook in a slight spasm and her small but chubby feet curled up as she lay on her back.
"Now turn over and lie on your back," ordered Gloria, "I'm going to whip those large melons of yours. Maybe later when you feel how sore they are, you'll remember to find out what I want to know!"
Bessie, her mouth tight and her teeth clenched, smiled a smile of pleasure.
"Bessie!" came the voice of her housemate, "Bessie, I've got breakfast ready!"
Bessie's fantasy of Gloria vaporized.
"For gawd sakes!" Bessie yelled back from her bedroom, "Can't I even have a few minutes to myself in the morning?" Then in a less energetic voice, Bessie yelled, "Keep it warm for me, I'll be down in a few minutes. I'm not even dressed yet."
Bessie blew some air out of her mouth and shook her body, her bed responding with some creaking sounds. In spite of this morning's minor irritation, she was in a good frame of mind. Her Christian lady friends had called her and asked her to meet with them. They agreed with Bessie that there had indeed been a misunderstanding with the last Christian woman she worked with on a project. Bessie always insisted that she was in the woman's house because she had forgotten to tell her something. And when she found the woman was in the shower, Bessie had merely intended on bringing her a towel. The woman on the phone told her that would be all right. Bessie would be working with a new group of women anyway. And the woman suggested it would be diplomatic of Bessie if she did not try to contact the woman who gotten the restraining order against her. When Bessie met this new woman, Gloria, her heart fluttered. Gloria's face was plain, almost without makeup, in fact, almost unpleasant. Gloria's smile revealed a mouth that had been a stranger to dentists. This woman was exactly like the many older farm women Bessie remembered from her childhood and similar to many of the church women in the small town Bessie grew up in. In addition, Gloria was stern…very stern and had a wonderfully judgmental attitude regarding everything. Gloria totally fit into Bessie's fantasy of having a bucolic, fussy and complaining filly in her life. Bessie fantasized trudging in from the fields in overalls on her imaginary farm and finding Gloria in the farmhouse, fussing and bitching until Bessie would put her hands on Gloria's shoulders and calm the nervous filly down.

As a child, Bessie was a chubby bully, screaming when she didn't get her way and bullying her way to getting more than her share of candy and food. She also found out early that being a teacher's pet brought her certain benefits she enjoyed. Bessie really didn't care to be popular among the other kids, she preferred to focus her friendship on whoever was in charge. Often, the teacher, the Sunday school instructor or whomever, would begin to rely on Bessie's bits of information to find out who was doing what and keep order in the classroom. So in spite of the fact that kids might call her "Butterball" or "snitch", Bessie didn't care. She didn't care if the cute little girls in the pretty dresses were at the top of the social order…as long as she identified herself with the primary authority figure, everybody was painfully nice to her…at least to her face.

As Bessie became older, she graduated from being a classroom snitch to being an office snitch. Her supervisors would find Bessie very useful when the woman would quietly volunteer information on her coworkers. Supervisors found that an informant such as Bessie to be an asset especially during periods of downsizing and Bessie found that she could also secure her own position this way as well. A right wing Christian woman that Bessie worked with found that Bessie strongly identified with her views and that Bessie would also use her talent as an informant to get information on people in the gay community. Ultimately, Bessie's connection with the religious right got her a secure position with a company with a politically right wing ownership. Bessie had shared her life with a skinny, plain woman who liked to dress very western, usually in jeans and a western shirt. Perhaps, this is what originally attracted Bessie to her. However, over the years Bessie lost interest in her. Though they lived in the same house, they now slept in separate beds and now even had separate bedrooms. Bessie had even lost interest in sex, at least with her housemate, and in women she knew as lesbians, simply because those women did not fit her ideals and she now viewed lesbians as inferior. When her church lady friends asked Bessie how she viewed her housemate, Bessie would reply, "As a convenience." However, Christian ladies like Gloria did stir the carnal desires in Bessie, though the woman would restrict this wild horse of desire to the corral of fantasy. Except, of course, that every once in awhile that horse would attempt to break open the gate.

*********

Gloria and her team sat in Gloria's office in the small office suite that they had been given to direct their project from. It was their usual morning team meeting in which Gloria took reports and issued instructions.
"What was wrong with Chantay this morning?" Gloria inquired, "I've never heard her fuss and complain so much…usually she's very docile."
One of the other women answered. "I think it's the script she has to learn. You have to realize that she's not an adult and having to memorize a script like that…"
Gloria interrupted, "It's merely a few lines…it won't damage her to learn those few lines. When she's older she'll realize that she was doing work for Jesus if she remembers much of this at all…since she's so young. It's that doll she saw in that witch's store, isn't it? Acting up just because she couldn't have a doll. Sounds like a case of being spoiled to me."
"Actually," countered the other woman, "This is the first time Chantay's been away from her mother for any length of time, and when she heard she was going to California, she was hoping she could visit Disneyland, plus it's getting to be Christmas time and for a child…"
"Disneyland?" interrupted Gloria again, aghast, "You need to tell her just how far away that is from here. We are not here on a vacation…we are here on assignment."
The other two women sat quiet and emotionless.
"If she wants a doll, " said Gloria, easing up slightly, "Maybe the budget will allow us to pick up a doll somewhere for her. After all, it is Christmas time and she is, after all, one of our secret weapons."
With the minor issue of Chantay out of the way, Gloria fell into a more pleasant mood as she discussed their project. Gloria expressed how blessed they had been to even have found out about Randy. She revealed that once the district attorney in Illinois heard about the child molestation charges against Randy and that Randy was employed by the famous gay detective, Beef Matson, the DA immediately contacted Gloria's boss because he thought this information would be useful to him and could be something which could be cultivated and used against the gay community.
"What a good Christian republican this man is," Gloria exclaimed, referring to the district attorney. "Naturally, my boss contacted me immediately," Gloria continued, "because he knew that I, with my talent and background could be the only one qualified to coordinate this team and project."
Unseen by Gloria, one of the two women listening to her clicked the heel of her shoe against the heel of the shoe of the woman next to her, and the other woman clicked her heel back.
Gloria instructed that the focus of their project was to concentrate on Randy, to create harassment and disruption in his life in order to demoralize him, spread misinformation about him in the media and elsewhere and do whatever they could to damage his character. Gloria informed that there would also be harassment involving the detective Beef Matson himself and the lawyer Berry Starr. This harassment would only be to discourage the detective and the lawyer from being too aggressive on the case, the primary focus would be on Randy Hardwicke. Gloria said she felt that a blond, blue eyed man was meant to be Christian, indeed, blond, blue-eyed people were much closer to God, so it was very important to rescue Randy from the gay community.

Gloria felt that the team would be victorious in its efforts, Randy would not have a chance. One reason, Gloria explained, was that their efforts were being made during the Christmas season.
"If you want to devastate someone emotionally…" lectured Gloria, "the Christmas season is an excellent time to do it. Making someone miserable and alone at Christmas while everyone around them is happy and with loved ones…why it's a well known fact that the suicide rate goes up during the Christmas season." Gloria folded her hands together and smiled a reptilian smile. "We have an assortment of events planned for Randy Hardwicke that shall make this the most miserable Christmas he has ever had."

Gloria also explained that what little family Randy had was in Illinois and ties with that family had now been successfully severed, which would also add to Randy's emotional trauma during the holiday season. Gloria explained how she had talked to Sharon, the woman who had raised Randy during his high school years. She revealed that Sharon had told her that Randy had a terrible temper, was probably abusing drugs and alcohol and was a sexual predator. Sharon had told Glora that she had to constantly rebuke Randy's sexual advances and how Randy could not be trusted around children. Gloria told the other two women that it would be very easy to trick Randy into revealing his predatory side. It was her plan, through a series of planned encounters and dirty tricks to build up Randy's anger and cause him to fly into a rage, exposing his dark side to the world.

Gloria felt that their project would lead to an uncovering of a vast network of ritual child abuse and sexual predators in the gay community, of which she was certain, Mr. Beef Matson was a major part of. Randy Hardwicke would be rescued from the gay community and molded into the kind of Christian Gloria wanted him to be.
"After we are finished with Mr. Hardwicke…" Gloria rattled on, "he will be nothing more than putty. He will be ours…and ready to confess. He will show us where those weapons of mass destruction are hidden in the gay community."
The other two women suddenly gave puzzled looks to Gloria.
"What I mean is…" clarified Gloria, "weapons of mass destruction to society as a whole…ER…uh…the mass conspiracies of child molestation among the sodomites. I mean, how else would there be so many homosexuals." Gloria began to brief the other two women on the upcoming surprises she had in store for Detective Matson and his assistant.

*********
"Beef!" he cried, "I'm naked!"

Thanksgiving day was rapidly approaching and Beef found that his assistant didn't have any plans for Thanksgiving dinner. When he inquired further, Randy insisted he was going to spend Thanksgiving day alone and fix dinner for himself in his little apartment. Beef decided that spending a holiday alone would be to much of an invitation for depression to set in on Randy, so he insisted that Randy come with him to a Thanksgiving dinner he had been invited to. At first Randy balked at the idea, but finally relented. Randy knew that resisting Beef when the detective had his mind made up was similar to standing in front of a bulldozer and trying to hold it back.

On Thanksgiving day, Beef showed up mid morning at Randy's apartment door. Randy answered the door wrapped in a big bath towel, obviously not ready to go to anywhere. Randy quietly told Beef that he had changed his mind and did not feel like going to a dinner, he'd rather just stay at home. Beef just as quietly told him that staying at home was not an option and gently pushed his way into the apartment. The two stood chatting in front of the door to Randy's bathroom. While Randy came up with different reasons why he did not want to go, Beef kept repeating in a monotone voice that Randy needed to get dressed. Finally, Beef said, "It should be fairly obvious to you by now that I am not accepting no as an answer and you are going to this Thanksgiving dinner. So please take a shower and get dressed."
Randy shrugged his shoulders and muttered an agreement. In order to get his assistant moving a bit faster, Beef grabbed a corner of the bath towel and pulled it off Randy in a flash. Randy's eyes opened wide in surprise and he put his hands down to cover his crotch.
"Beef!" he cried, "I'm naked!"
"Yeah…so?" Beef replied, "I've seen plenty of naked male bodies before."
The detective looked Randy up and down.
"Not bad…" he said matter-of-factly.
He grabbed Randy on the shoulders, spinning the young man around and pushing him towards the bathroom, slapping him once on the behind.
"Now get yourself into the bathroom and wash up!"
Randy closed the door behind him and while Beef settled into a chair in the living room, he could hear a clatter and the running of water in the bathroom. In a short time, the door opened and Randy emerged in a cloud of steam, showered and shaved. The young man was draped in another towel and made quick steps into his bedroom. From the bedroom, Beef could hear the sound of the closet doors and sliding dresser drawers. Randy soon emerged from the bedroom, party ready, dressed in khaki slacks, loafers, a shirt and sweater and his hair well coifed.
"Now that's the spirit!" commented Beef.
Randy put his hands out in the air and posed as if he were a model on a runway. Randy next found a jacket in a closet and Beef shuffled him out the door.

The Thanksgiving dinner was at the house of an older gay male couple who were old friends of Beef's. Randy and Beef arrived in the late morning at the house, there were already some guests there and the house rapidly filled with men. The home smelled of good cooking and was filled with chatter, music and other friendly sounds. The house had the aura of a traditional family get together, with different groups in different rooms. Some sat in a living room gathered around a T.V watching a football game, a group of older men sat around a table in another room playing a serious game of cards and still others sat around in the kitchen, chatting. Later in the day, a young man who was renting a room in the house arrived home from his restaurant job. The young man stood in the kitchen awhile to complain about problems on his job. The owners of the house seemed to relate to the man as a son and the young man soon retreated to the living room where his boyfriend who had already arrived, was waiting. He fell asleep in his boyfriend's arms on a sofa in the living room.

All the groups were eventually called to the dining room for the feast. It was a traditional Thanksgiving spread of a large, golden turkey, stuffing, various vegetable dishes, gravies, cranberries, biscuits, and different types of fruit pies, which included of course, pumpkin. Everyone ate until they were full and sleepy. After dinner and after all the plates found their way back into the kitchen, guests and hosts retired to the living room to sip mixed drinks and coffee. Mostly, the remainder of the evening was filled with conversation and the hosts, longtime residents of San Francisco, related tales of their grand old house and of the history of the city.

The dinner and companionship left the detective and his assistant in pleasant spirits. Beef escorted Randy home and then made his way back to his own apartment. Randy's little apartment looked as happy and warm to him as he felt. Randy tumbled into his bed and wrapped himself into a cocoon of blankets and fell into a blissful sleep. Back at Beef's apartment, the detective undressed and slipped into his bed after first grabbing Fred the bear. Along with the big teddy bear, the private investigator positioned pillows around himself and fell off into a long night's hibernation.

*********

Back at the office after Thanksgiving, Beef was discussing his travel plans and his plane tickets for a trip to Illinois in order to do some interviews regarding Randy's case. Finally, Randy interrupted Beef wanting to discuss the costs regarding the case.
"I know the billing for my case is really starting to pile up…" observed Randy, "I'd like to sit down with you and work out payment schedule…so I can pay you for all your time. Maybe I can get another job or two and get the money to you faster."
Beef looked at his assistant incredulously.
"It's already been paid for," he announced.
"What?" Randy exclaimed, his mouth hanging open, "Who…how?"
"Some of my clients and some other folks…wanted to pay all costs regarding your case. They got in touch with me, I didn't ask anyone. Sorry, I haven't gotten around to giving you the checks so you can deposit them…as you know I've been busy."
"No…no…" responded Randy, "They can't do that…they shouldn't do that. This is my responsibility. I don't want to be a burden to anyone else."
"Burden?" Beef made a clicking sound with his tongue, "You're not a burden. Look, the costs are taken care of. Our business is sitting very well financially right now, so I don't want you to worry about this."
"I just can't have people…" insisted Randy.
"Randy…" interrupted the detective, "I need to have you concentrate on other things right now so just go along with this."
"Here…I want you do something for me…" ordered Beef. "Lift up your head and look up at the ceiling."
Randy complied.
"Now lower your head and look down at the floor."
Randy complied again.
"Now look up at the ceiling. Now look at the floor. Just keep doing that…but do it faster!"
Randy complied, shaking his head up and down.
"There…" Beef said, patting Randy on the shoulders, "You're shaking your head yes in agreement…so you agree with me."
Randy stopped shaking his head and frowned at Beef with a furled brow and pursed lips.
"Randy…" Beef looked into Randy's face with a solid stare, "You've got to learn to accept people's help…you've also got to accept the fact that you can't do everything on your own. Just let others help you out now and in the future when you are in a better situation, you can help others out in return. The people who are paying for this are doing this because they genuinely like you…a lot of people like you…they think you are one awesome individual…and I personally can't argue with their tastes."
"What I want now…" continued Beef, "Is to consider this subject closed, I don't want you to bring it up again. Are you good with that?"
Randy shook his head meekly and quietly in agreement. Beef then went into his office, telling Randy he had a lot to do and didn't want to be disturbed for awhile, closing the door to his office. Randy sat back down at his desk, put his hands to his head and tried very hard not to cry.

*********

Beef arrived at O'Hare airport in Chicago and picked up his rental car to head out to the town that Randy grew up in. Beef's impressions about Illinois during the last week in November was that it was flat, it was mostly gray, it was cloudy and it was cold.

Beef's first trip was to the house of Randy's accuser, Rocky, otherwise known as Clarence Ledbauer. Beef decided to go for broke and see what happened when he confronted Rocky. The house was a sort of bungalow with a small open front yard with a large back yard enclosed with a cyclone fence. The yard was fairly well maintained save for was appeared to be motorcycle and auto parts piled here and there. Beef rang the bell and a young woman with very blond hair and tight blouse and jeans answered. Beef asked to talk with Rocky and the woman responded, Beef thought truthfully, that he was not there. Beef asked the woman if he could ask her a few questions and the woman agreed. Just then a middle aged woman stormed out of the house next door and grabbed on the fence separating the two properties.
"You there…" the woman called out to Beef, "If you're a cop, I want to talk to you about their dogs! I don't know how many times I have to call the police to get somebody to come down here and do something about their pit bulls!"
Beef urgently began to scan the yard for the dogs.
"Why don't you just shut your trap!" the young woman yelled back, "Our dogs are locked up in the house!"
Beef made a quiet sigh of relief.
"Their dogs killed one of my cats!" bellowed the neighbor woman, "I want to file a complaint!"
"I'm not with the police department," informed Beef.
"Well," continued the woman and shaking a finger at the young woman, "I am going to call the police and the next time your dogs get into my yard, I am going to have both them and your asses hauled off by the cops!"
"Why don't you just go to hell!" yelled the blond woman as the older woman stormed back into her house.
"We need our dogs for security…we got stuff we need to protect," the young woman paused a second, "Hey…who are you anyway?"
Beef explained he was a private investigator.
The young woman introduced herself as Rocky's girlfriend, Breeze. Suddenly the young woman appeared to have a revelation.
"A private investigator, "she gushed, "Now I know what this is about. Misty! You want me to say I'm Misty's mother. Well, you can tell Rocky that I am not going to admit to being Misty's mother. I would know if I am Misty's mother. A woman would obviously know if she gave birth to someone. And I did not give birth to anyone…and that means Misty, too."
In response to Breeze's loud voice a dog somewhere in the house began to bark.
"Bark-Bark!" yelled Breeze.
"Bark, bark?" asked Beef.
"Bark-Bark is his name. Our dog's name. I named our two dogs. Their names are Bark-Bark and Dog-Dog."
"Bark-Bark!" screamed Breeze as the dog continued to bark, "Bark-Bark! Bark-Bark!, Bark-Bark!"
Beef bit his bottom lip and tried not to giggle.
"Bark-Bark!, Quiet!" screamed the young blond again and the dog became silent.

Beef explained that he was not there to inquire about Misty.
"Oh…sorry," said Breeze, "It's just that Rocky's been on me lately to say that I'm Misty's mother and I don't wanna be playing mommy right now."
Beef confirmed that Rocky was Misty's father and then asked who then was Misty's mother.
"I dunno…" volunteered Breeze, "Could be anybody…he won't say…that Rocky, he'll just about sleep with a snake." Breeze then sort of crossed her eyes as if wondering if she should have made the last statement.
"Well…" said Breeze as she put her hands on her hips, "If you're not here about Misty…what exactly are you investigating?"
The detective explained he was inquiring about Rocky's abuse allegations. If she knew anything about Rocky's teenaged years.
"Oh, then you're not working for Rocky…" Breeze began nervously playing with her blond locks, "Then I should probably not talk to you at all."
After that Breeze refused to say much of anything at all and Beef left the house, watchfully looking behind him for Bark-Bark and Dog-Dog.

Beef had the address of one of Sharon's sisters and he decided to try to interview her. To his surprise, the woman, whose name was Idell, let him in her house. Puffing constantly on a cigarette, the woman led the detective to the kitchen where two girls, her teenaged daughters, were sitting at the kitchen table preparing to have lunch. Taking a long draw on her cigarette sat down at the table, Idell offered Beef a seat. The two daughters, one blond and one dark haired, took great interest in this handsome stranger. The detective took out his notepad and a pen and prepared to take notes. Idell barked out orders to her daughters who seemed genuinely terrified of her and ran to get whatever she wanted from refrigerator. A teenaged son lounged on a sofa in the living room watching TV Idell screamed at him to lower the volume on the television.

Idell seemed to be taken by Beef's looks and eased back into her chair, staring at the investigator. She brought one of her legs up, placing her foot on the seat of her chair and wrapping her arms around her leg. She continued to puff constantly on a cigarette. The two daughters kept grabbing glances at this stranger as Beef prepared to ask questions. When Beef began to ask Idell about Randy, she then demanded to know Beef was and why he was asking questions about Randy. Idell had sucked her cigarette down to its last and fumbled with her cigarette pack, finding it empty. She then screamed at her blond haired daughter get her another pack of cigarettes. The daughter quickly ran to a kitchen cabinet and hurriedly brought it back to her mother. Idell ripped open the package and lit another cigarette, taking a long, hard draw from it and blowing out the smoke into Beef's face. Beef then explained who he was and why he was asking questions about Randy. Idell immediately tensed up and began taking short quick puffs from her cigarette.
"I think you need to leave," she said, "Right now."
As long as he already in her house, began to try to gently charm Idell into volunteering some information. As he did, Idell seemed to become a bid more relaxed and the two teenaged daughters focused more of their attention on him as they ate their lunch. Suddenly, the blond daughter accidentally knocked over the salt shaker. Only a few grains of salt fell onto the table. Idell shot a look of pure venom at the girl. She grabbed the girl's arm and twisted it violently.
"I told you…" she yelled, "to stop screwing up!"
"Mother, mother," whined the girl in pure terror, "Please, mother…it hurts!"
"Hey," Beef shot back at Idell, "What in the hell are you doing?"
Idell abruptly released her grip and nervously shook ashes off her cigarette into an ashtray.
"My kids are bad…that's how I have to treat them. I said you should leave…now!"
Beef looked at the blond girl who was holding back tears, a large red mark starting to show on her arm. The blond girl seemed to look out of place in this dark haired family. He placed his notebook back into his jacket and found his own way out. He heard Idell's voice on his way out as she screamed to her kids.
"Go lock that damned door!"

Beef found the nursing home that Sharon had worked at around the same time she and Rocky shared a house with Randy. Beef hoped to find someone that had worked with Sharon and see if she had shared any insights regarding her home life with coworkers. The nursing home was a gray bland building against leafless tree filled backdrop. The manager of the home was a pleasant older woman and told Beef that while she had only been with the nursing home for a few years, there was a long time employee that he could talk with, a woman she referred to as "Our Mrs. Harrington". This employee was a supervisor and the manager took the detective to where the woman was working. They encountered the woman in a hallway of one of the home's wings and manager returned to her office, leaving Beef to chat with the supervisor. The supervisor was a middle aged black woman with graying hair and an upbeat, good natured personality. The woman was introduced as Mrs. Harrington. Beef asked her if she remembered Sharon. The woman thought for a few seconds and spoke.
"Oh yes, I remember her…but not in a good way," the woman laughed. "She was…as you say…a character."
Just then there was a sound of plastic bouncing on the floor as a small white object sailed out of one of the rooms onto the floor of the hallway.
"Just a minute please…" smiled Mrs. Harrington as she seized the object from the floor and took it back into the room it had just come from. Beef could see an elderly male resident sitting in a chair with a nebulizer next to him. Apparently, the top portion of the nebulizer had popped off.
"Now Mr. Rudolfsky…" she scolded gently, "You're not holding it like I showed you. Now put your hands on it like this so it stays on. It won't do you any good if you keep turning it into a rocket."
Mrs. Harrington returned to the hallway.
"That's our Mr. Rudolfsky. Really a sweet man, though there are days he gets a bit feisty…if you know what I mean," the woman laughed a hearty laugh. "Now getting back to your Sharon…Ledbauer…yes, Sharon Ledbauer…that was her last name. She didn't tell me much of anything about her home life…she wasn't very sociable with me…but I can tell you about her behavior here. I'm afraid I can't tell you much good about her…if that's what you're after."
"I'm all ears," responded Beef.
"Well," continued Mrs. Harrington, "This was years ago, long before I became a supervisor. I stuck with it here and worked my way up to a supervisor. The thing is, to stay with a job like this, you've got to like people and working with them. Sharon was not a people person. You get a lot of people working in a nursing home over the years and the reason you remember one individual so well is because they were either really good to work with or really bad. I'd have to say that Sharon was one of the really bad."

"First off," related Mrs. Harrington, "Sharon was a little vocal about my ethnic background. Like it was beneath her to work with people…well…whose ancestors came from Africa. Well, O.K. I realize that there are always going to people out there who do not like you for some reason or another…so I can handle that. But there was more…guess you could call it her work ethic or lack of it. I like people and I like this work, but Sharon didn't like the residents or like the work. I thought…'woman, why are you even here.' That Sharon had a problem with attitude and on top of that she had a motivation problem. It was like every day there was something else going on with her. One day, the manager we had at the time…Mrs. Ridgeway…that was her name…started asking me about Sharon. It seems like Sharon was getting too interested in some of the residents…she was trying to find out how much money the residents had and so on…if they had any close relatives. That's always a warning sign about employees. Then later, Mrs. Ridgeway asked me again about Sharon and asked me to keep an eye on her. Seems some meds had been disappearing. Not the drugs people usually steal to get high, but other medicines…can't remember what. Mrs. Ridgeway thought Sharon was probably taking them to sell to her friends. People don't seem to realize the dangers of taking prescription medicine. A doctor knows exactly how much to give you. If you take too much…some drugs could give you a heart attack or fill your lungs up with fluid…and you could die."

"I guess they let Sharon go after she went on night shift. One night the police called Mrs. Ridgeway at home because they found one of our residents walking the streets. Around two in the morning in the middle of winter, dressed in her bathrobe. Turns out Sharon and another nurses aide were sneaking away to spend part of their shift in a bar. And then the nights when Sharon stayed here, she would have a resident sit in the hallway all night while she sat in the resident's room and watched TV and talked on the phone. You just can't tolerate behavior like that…so they got rid of her. Good riddance!" Mrs. Harrington laughed. Beef thanked Mrs. Harrington and returned to his rental car.

It did not take much time at all for Beef to realize that any more time he spent in Illinois would be wasted. Sharon's relatives apparently had been briefed not to talk with anyone asking questions regarding the allegations against Randy. Sharon and her family pretty much kept to themselves so that the neighbors knew very little about the family and those that did would not let Beef interview them. Matson did talk with the neighbor who complained about Rocky's dogs but she knew very little about Rocky except for her encounters with his pit bulls.

Beef spent some time observing Sharon's movements. He found that since she had been widowed about a year earlier, she did not work and rarely left home. Her recreational activities seemed limited to a neighborhood bar a mile or so from her house. Feeling he had gathered all the information he possibly could, Beef returned to San Francisco.

*********

The office had been fairly quiet while Beef was in Illinois leaving Randy to field relatively few phone calls and do some caretaking work. The only big event during Beef's absence was the tenants association meeting at the Ruby Slipper restaurant on the main floor of the building. On the day of the meeting, around eleven a.m., Randy locked up the office and headed down to the Ruby Slipper. The lunch crowd had not made it into the restaurant yet and Randy walked through the relatively quiet establishment to one of the banquet rooms where the meeting would take place. The Ruby Slipper was a fun place with its Wizard of Oz decor. The banquet room was not as decorated but was still as pleasant as the rest of the eatery. Randy liked getting together and rubbing elbows with the rest of the tenants, he didn't get to see most of them every day so it was nice to chat with them and see how they were doing, something on the order of getting together with distant relatives. The Ruby Slipper had put out a very nice buffet for the crowd and while the group was munching down on loaded plates the meeting was brought to order. Most of the discussion revolved around the issue of how to bring more people into the building for the holiday season. Another important issue was building security. Randy observed that the topics were pretty much identical to those discussed at the tenants holiday meeting the previous year and were resolved in pretty much in an identical way. To increase business the association would put some ads in the local papers and hand out some flyers. For the security issues, the association would have Joann, the part-time security guard, work more hours. The association meetings were friendly, social affairs and the tenants handled any issues in a similarly friendly manner. The only discord at the meeting was that some new tenants on the third floor were a bit miffed that their businesses were not mentioned in the flyer but by the end of the meeting, everyone was well-fed and in good spirits.

Randy too, was in good spirits as he left the Ruby Slipper. On his way back to the office he decided to check the mailroom before he headed back up to the second floor. In the box for Beef Matson, Private Investigations, Randy found a large pile of letters. Curiously, most of the letters were addressed to his attention. Getting back to the office, Randy dumped the letters on his desk and began to go through them. He opened the letters addressed to the business first and placed what needed Beef's attention in his inbox. Then Randy returned to his desk and began to open the letters addressed to him curiously wondering why he would get all these letters.

Quickly reading through the first letter, it did not take Randy long to realize what it was. From the vile, condemning rhetoric it was clear the letter was a piece of hate mail. None of the letters had a return address, but from the different envelope sizes, papers along with some being computer generated and others hand written, they all had the appearance of coming from different senders. Many of the letters had postmarks of different post offices. All the letters were nearly equally hateful. Randy opened each letter but only completed read the first few and just scanned the rest just to see what they were about. All of the letters were hate letters. Accusing him of being a child molester and condemning him for being a homosexual. Randy felt himself being emotionally drained as he went through the mail. He felt a numb, wrung out, naked feeling. How could people he probably did not even know hate him so much?

As his boss had instructed him regarding hate mail, Randy took the letters and placed them on a box on Beef Matson's desk. He then returned to his office and sat at his desk. Randy then just sat behind his desk for a long time, feeling emotionless and not wanting to do anything.

Later in the afternoon, Randy recovered somewhat emotionally and decided to try to "pick himself up and dust himself off". He decided to head downstairs to Tony's bakery and get himself one of Tony's donuts.

Down in the lobby of the Harvey Milk Professional building, Joann the security guard was in high spirits. The tenant association had just informed her that her hours would be increased during the holiday season. Like the previous year, this mean a bit more cash for the holiday season which would mean a slightly better Christmas for her and her partner. In addition, the holiday season also meant that she would be getting gift baskets from the building merchants, and gift certificates from other businesses, like a free dinner at the Ruby Slipper, a certificate for a free massage at that massage place and so on. On this particular afternoon, Joann was feeling very motivated.

The tenants association had let Joann know they wanted visitors to the building to have a sense of security so it was impressed upon her the importance of keeping panhandlers, purse snatchers and people involved in the drug traffic out of the building. In addition, Beef Matson had quietly asked her to be on the look out for people who appeared to be snooping around the building, particularly his office and asking questions about him and Randy.

And so it was on this particular afternoon, Joann the security guard appeared to be in a smiling good mood, quietly strolling the corridors, not paying attention to anything in particular. However, this was not actually the case. Though she appeared not to be paying attention, Joann had been devoting much of her attention to a couple loitering in the hall. The couple, a woman probably in her mid forties and a man probably in his late twenties, had been in the building for nearly an hour and a half. From their behavior, Joann concluded that couple appeared to be waiting for someone, though rather suspiciously so, preferring to stand in corners or shadowy areas. Joann was convinced that she would soon be witness to a drug deal.

However, as Randy opened the door from the stairwell and walked across the lobby towards Tony's Just Desserts, the woman nudged her companion and pointed to Randy. The woman and the young man began following Randy with Joann in turn nonchalantly following the couple. The clerk behind the counter in Just Desserts was a friend of Randy's and they chatted briefly while Randy placed his order. While the clerk got Randy's order, Beef Matson's assistant stood casually waiting. The couple entered the store with the woman staring at Randy. Joann, the security guard stood just outside, appearing indifferent.

The woman suddenly approached Randy, standing directly in front of him, a strange expression on her face.
"Hi," the woman said and stood even closer.
Randy nodded, turned away and stepped back somewhat.
The woman then put her face right up to Randy's, startling the young man and he frowned. The woman then grabbed Randy's crotch with a determined look on her face. Randy then knocked her hand away.
"Excuse me," stated Randy, "Would you knock it off?"
The store clerk stopped to watch the woman and Joann stepped a couple of steps closer and watched from outside. The woman grabbed Randy's crotch again and again Randy brushed her arm away.
"I said knock it off," declared Randy,"What is wrong with you?"
The clerk frowned and looked at Randy, shaking his head from side to side. The woman then glanced a look of anger at Randy and stomped back to her male friend at the other end of the store. She began whispering something to her friend.
Immediately her young male friend approached Randy, putting his face into Randy's much like a drill sergeant.
"I don't like my lady friend being shown disrespect!" the man angrily shouted.
"I didn't show anyone disrespect," Randy countered "She was grabbing me."
"I don't give a crap what she did…I'm talking about you, asshole! I think I need to pop you a few times so you learn to respect women. I think woman hating fag like you needs a real good poppin'".
Randy began stepping back and the clerk behind the counter prepared to come to Randy's aid.
"Hold it right there, cowboy!" said Joann the security guard as she positioned herself in front of Randy, "Nobody's going to be popping anybody."
"This little bastard disrespected my lady friend!" screamed the young man, "I need to pop the little piece of crap!"
"You need to lower your testosterone level, boy," responded Joann, "I saw the whole thing and he didn't do anything I would call disrespect. However, your lady friend over there seems to need to learn some self control. I would not call grabbing a stranger's crotch socially acceptable behavior."
"I don't care what she did…" yelled the young man pointing at Randy, "He shouldn't be insulting women. He needs a good pop! Just let me pop him!"
The young man then hit Joann's shoulder with the palm of his hand. The force was enough to push Joann's shoulder back a couple of inches. She responded calmly that the young man needed to keep his hands to himself. Joann turned to look at Randy whose face was now beet red and was no longer backing off and in fact, was now moving forward. The other man was also moving forward, sandwiching Joann in-between.
"I want to pound the little bastard!" screamed the young man again this time into Joann's face. He hit Joann's shoulder again with the palm of his hand, this time much harder. The impact hit her shoulder in just the right place causing a fair amount of pain and Joann winced.
"That's enough!" Joann shouted and instinctively formed a fist and gave the young man a short, quick punch to the face. The young man grabbed his face and moved backward with a few toddler like steps.
"That hurt!" the man yelled.
"No shit, Sherlock…" observed Joann, rubbing her shoulder.
Turning to his lady friend, the young man yelled again, "This stupid dyke hit me!"
Joann rolled her eyes. "Greg," she called to the man behind the counter, "Call the police…we'll see if the cops can show this young man and his lady friend some respect."
The mention of the police alarmed the older woman and she ran up to her male friend and pulled him out of the store, choosing the exit to the street rather than to the lobby. The older woman turned as they left the store.
"We were just having some fun," she complained as they exited.
Randy's face was still beet red with his blond eyebrows vividly outlined. He too, was storming out of the store, heading back to his office. Joann stopped Randy from leaving, calmed him down and took his testimony regarding the incident. Finally, Greg the clerk, told Randy his order was on the house and Beef Matson's assistant then shuffled his way back to his office on the second floor limply carrying a bag of donuts in his hand.

"I'm praying…"

The events of the day left Randy depressed. His depression continued into the night and alone and at home, Randy decided to call it a day. He undressed and prepared to get into bed and, almost in as an after thought, naked, Randy knelt down and began to pray. His prayer was an informal prayer as it always was when he prayed. The young man told God how worried and depressed he was. He asked for help in getting through his trials. He asked why his life had been the way it was, why the people he treasured always seemed to taken from him. He thanked God for Beef Matson being there to help him, and he was also worried that his problems would hurt the detective. He prayed that he didn't want Beef hurt in anyway because of him and he asked that his boss be protected. Randy prayed that he felt that he was not one of God's favorites and wondered if there was any point to praying at all, in fact if the Almighty even heard his prayers at all. In his prayer he asked if his prayers at bedtime were of any value or even being heard, maybe if he went to a church and prayed, they would be of more value to God. Finished with his prayer, Randy got into his bed, propped some pillows about him and fell off to sleep.

During the night, Randy had a dream where he decided to go to a church. Dressed humbly in jeans, shirt, a jacket and cap and carrying a briefcase in his hand, Randy entered the vestibule of a large church. He began to look around for a chapel in which he could pray. The outer hallway of the building was well appointed with marble and fine woods. Suddenly a man dressed in expensive looking vestments of red and gold approached him. Randy could not identify the vestments with any one religion but it was clear the man was a minister or priest. The man asked him if he could help him with something. Randy asked the man if he could direct him to a chapel where he could pray. The man in the vestments looked Randy up and down and gave him a somewhat irritated look and pointing to a door said, "You can use that chapel there".

The man, apparently not wanting to be bothered any further, quickly strolled off. Randy went into the chapel and found it to be very tiny. There was just one small pew with room for just one person and an equally small altar in front of it. Randy knelt down and placed the briefcase in front of him. The briefcase was small, black, plain and out of focus so that Randy could not make out all the detail of it. Randy began to pray. He motioned his hands forward to point to the briefcase. Tears began to form in his eyes. "God, this is the talents and skills I was given for this life. I know it's not much, but I offer them to You if You will tell me what to do and protect my friends…"
Randy was interrupted by the abrupt opening of a door of an anteroom and the loud chatter of two women who emerged from it. Two children also came out of the room and they began to run around and jump on a sofa at the back of the chapel. One of the women who was doing most of the talking and appeared to be the mother of the two children was very well dressed and the woman she was talking to was slightly more casually attired, perhaps a church worker. The woman continued talking, supplying juicy gossip about another woman church member. The woman speaker suddenly spied the kneeling Randy.
"I'm praying…" Randy said to her.
"Well, how terribly cute," responded the woman and she continued chattering, as if Randy were not there.
Randy picked up his briefcase and headed back out into the vestibule and decided to leave the church. On the stairway heading outside, he came across a well dressed older couple making their way up the stairs into the church. When the woman, in a heavy coat with a mink stole, saw Randy, she quickly averted her eyes and the man with her pulled the woman closer to his side. The couple snubbed Randy and continued up the stairs as Randy walked down. Outside, there was a large plaza in front of the church next to a busy street. Randy could see a crowd of older woman who were apparently just leaving a church service waiting for buses on the street corner. Randy thought he should decide which bus he should take to get him home. Suddenly, a woman walked up to him and spoke.
"You don't need to catch a bus," she told Randy, "You were told everything this dream was supposed to tell you. It should end now."
Randy immediately woke up, confused and wondering what the dream meant.

*********

Beef returned from his trip to Illinois and showed up back at the office. He had with him a small and cute stuff animal he had picked up at the airport as a present for Randy. His assistant seemed genuinely thankful for the gift but it was very obvious that Randy was consumed with anxiety and depression; he appeared to be struggling to display an upbeat attitude but darker inner emotions were winning. In the few days that Beef had been gone, Randy's mental attitude had plummeted.

The reason for Randy's emotional deterioration became apparent when Beef read the stack of hate mail that had come during the detective's absence. Later, when Beef checked with other tenants of the building he had asked to check on Randy while he was out of town, Beef found out about the confrontation a woman had with his assistant in Tony's bakery. The other tenants also informed Beef that Randy had told them he been getting additional hate mail at home. Later that afternoon, Beef decided that he would provide Randy with a diversion to try to provide his assistant's with a distraction. He would have Randy find the Christmas decorations that were hidden away in boxes somewhere in the office and decorate the office. After all, it was the first week of December and Randy loved the Christmas season.

When Randy returned home to his apartment that evening he found a number of calls from Sharon on his voice mail. As Randy listened to the recorded calls, Sharon's voice had a phony, excessively sweet tone to it. Sharon apparently thought Randy had been home, she kept urging him to pick up the phone so she could talk to him directly. Sharon couldn't understand why Randy would not return her calls. She wanted him to come back to Illinois and move in with her. Amazingly, she claimed to have no knowledge of why Randy would be upset with her. Then in other messages she urged Randy to call her, that she and her entire family loved him and were only doing what they were doing because they loved him. She told him how she and her entire family were praying for him. Then, in a final message, the true Sharon came through.
"Randy…" Sharon's voice started sweetly, then suddenly changed to a more hostile, grating tone, "Listen, you little fruit…you think you're being so gawd damned smart right now…but when I get finished with you, you little bastard…you're gonna wind up being nothing but the pile of crap that you know you are!" The receiver on Sharon's end slammed down. Randy promptly erased the message along with the others.

Beef Matson Archive - Chapter 5 & 6