but didn't say anything. It was definitely something to do with calling him 'Tom', Eric realized. "There was a man by the lake. Thomas got really upset and started yelling at him to leave or he'd report him for trespassing. But he was the same with me; guarded, I mean, until he knew where I was staying."
"Thomas values his privacy," Ted said a little cautiously.
"Yeah, I get that," Eric agreed. "But it's the only thing I can think of."
"Did the man call you by name or give any indication he knew you?"
Eric thought back through the brief conversation. All he could really remember was Thomas' hostility. "I don't think so. He said he was lost, that he'd come off the main road by accident. But Thomas didn't believe him."
"No I didn't," agreed Thomas, appearing around the corner with a plate of food and the dogs. Eric almost missed Thomas' words in their noisy excitement to see him up and about. "You know yourself, Ted, there's no way you'd mistake the turning for the lake as a road to anywhere."
"He could be staying somewhere in the area." Ted suggested.
Thomas shrugged as he sat down. "He gave out some lame story but it was obvious he was he was lying."
"How do you know?" Eric asked curiously. "I've lived here all my life. There is no house where he was pointing. Just marshland."
"Maybe he got confused," Eric suggested.
Thomas shook his head. "'Ric, there are only two houses near the lake; this one and the cottage. The man was up to no good. Trust me."
The words sent a shiver down Eric's spine and his fingers tightened in Toby's fur, making him yelp. Soothing the hurt apologetically, he devoted his attention to the dogs for a few minutes, trying to block out the conversation between the three men. He'd had his share of crazy letters but no one had ever attempted to hurt him before, at least, not beyond a bar-room brawl.
"Eric? 'Ric?" Thomas' voice intruded on his reverie.
"Huh. Sorry, what was that?"
"Ted wants to know if you've seen the man before."
Eric shook his head. "No. Definitely not. But we can give you a general description and you could run it by my agent and publicist."
Ted and Mark got to their feet. "Well, we'll look into it, Thomas. Eric, if you could give us their phone numbers?"
"Sure," Eric scrawled them on the notepad Mark handed him. Drew was going to be furious and as for Sarah… he winced as he thought of his agent's reaction. Loud wouldn't do it justice. He'd be lucky if he got let out of LA ever again.
The cops said goodbye and they'd be in touch as Thomas showed them out. Eric sat back down wondering what the hell to do next. He was still tired and his back was sore.
"Still in pain?" Eric looked up to see Thomas watching him from the doorway, a perceptive look in his eyes.
"A little," Eric admitted, trying to stretch and feeling his sore skin protest every movement.
"How about more coffee, cream for your back, a large dinner, and you can fall asleep in front of a crap movie?"
"Sounds awesome," Eric agreed enthusiastically, "Anything I can do?"
"You pick the movie. The coffee's already on. I suppose you'd like a steak dinner, too." Thomas didn't wait for Eric's response, obviously deeming it a no-brainer. He left the room, returning a few minutes later with a full tray holding two coffee cups, a large pot of coffee, and a tube of cream.
"Take your shirt off," he ordered as he placed the tray on the low table.
"Coffee first?" Eric tried not to make it sound like he was whining like a three year old.
"Take your t-shirt off and I will give you coffee," Thomas promised.
Eric complied, hearing the slight hitch of breath behind him as he bared his skin. He looked over his shoulders. "Is it bad? It just feels a little sore."
"No, not bad. Just a little red in places," Thomas' voice sounded a little strangled, and Eric looked up to catch his eyes traveling over Eric's back. Thomas suddenly realized Eric was watching him and he flushed guiltily, just like a small boy caught
"Thomas values his privacy," Ted said a little cautiously.
"Yeah, I get that," Eric agreed. "But it's the only thing I can think of."
"Did the man call you by name or give any indication he knew you?"
Eric thought back through the brief conversation. All he could really remember was Thomas' hostility. "I don't think so. He said he was lost, that he'd come off the main road by accident. But Thomas didn't believe him."
"No I didn't," agreed Thomas, appearing around the corner with a plate of food and the dogs. Eric almost missed Thomas' words in their noisy excitement to see him up and about. "You know yourself, Ted, there's no way you'd mistake the turning for the lake as a road to anywhere."
"He could be staying somewhere in the area." Ted suggested.
Thomas shrugged as he sat down. "He gave out some lame story but it was obvious he was he was lying."
"How do you know?" Eric asked curiously. "I've lived here all my life. There is no house where he was pointing. Just marshland."
"Maybe he got confused," Eric suggested.
Thomas shook his head. "'Ric, there are only two houses near the lake; this one and the cottage. The man was up to no good. Trust me."
The words sent a shiver down Eric's spine and his fingers tightened in Toby's fur, making him yelp. Soothing the hurt apologetically, he devoted his attention to the dogs for a few minutes, trying to block out the conversation between the three men. He'd had his share of crazy letters but no one had ever attempted to hurt him before, at least, not beyond a bar-room brawl.
"Eric? 'Ric?" Thomas' voice intruded on his reverie.
"Huh. Sorry, what was that?"
"Ted wants to know if you've seen the man before."
Eric shook his head. "No. Definitely not. But we can give you a general description and you could run it by my agent and publicist."
Ted and Mark got to their feet. "Well, we'll look into it, Thomas. Eric, if you could give us their phone numbers?"
"Sure," Eric scrawled them on the notepad Mark handed him. Drew was going to be furious and as for Sarah… he winced as he thought of his agent's reaction. Loud wouldn't do it justice. He'd be lucky if he got let out of LA ever again.
The cops said goodbye and they'd be in touch as Thomas showed them out. Eric sat back down wondering what the hell to do next. He was still tired and his back was sore.
"Still in pain?" Eric looked up to see Thomas watching him from the doorway, a perceptive look in his eyes.
"A little," Eric admitted, trying to stretch and feeling his sore skin protest every movement.
"How about more coffee, cream for your back, a large dinner, and you can fall asleep in front of a crap movie?"
"Sounds awesome," Eric agreed enthusiastically, "Anything I can do?"
"You pick the movie. The coffee's already on. I suppose you'd like a steak dinner, too." Thomas didn't wait for Eric's response, obviously deeming it a no-brainer. He left the room, returning a few minutes later with a full tray holding two coffee cups, a large pot of coffee, and a tube of cream.
"Take your shirt off," he ordered as he placed the tray on the low table.
"Coffee first?" Eric tried not to make it sound like he was whining like a three year old.
"Take your t-shirt off and I will give you coffee," Thomas promised.
Eric complied, hearing the slight hitch of breath behind him as he bared his skin. He looked over his shoulders. "Is it bad? It just feels a little sore."
"No, not bad. Just a little red in places," Thomas' voice sounded a little strangled, and Eric looked up to catch his eyes traveling over Eric's back. Thomas suddenly realized Eric was watching him and he flushed guiltily, just like a small boy caught
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