Free Auld Lang Syne by Judith Ivie

Joanie.”
    “I know, I know. Mindy’s death hasn’t even been officially pronounced a murder, just labeled suspicious, so there’s no police investigation under way. John Harkness was able to get that much information out of the Brewster Police Department via cell phone.”
    We were quiet for a minute while Strutter waited for me to get to the real reason we were having coffee in Starbucks’ parking lot when we had seen each other barely twelve hours ago and would see each other in the office tomorrow. I attributed her unusual perceptiveness to her Jamaican ancestry. She didn’t confirm or deny, but I felt sure there had to be some Obeah blood in her gene pool somewhere. I cleared my throat.
    “Did you ever find out what’s going on with Charlie?”
    “Not yet. We left him alone last night. He holed up in his room, moping around as if he’d lost his best friend. This morning he announced he was going to get a cup of hot chocolate at the diner and took off on foot, so I decided to let him walk it off.”
    If I waited a year, I’d never get a better segue into this difficult topic. “In a manner of speaking, he has lost his best friend,” I said before I lost my nerve.
    Strutter looked blank, as well she might. “But Duane was right there with him last night. Do you mean he’s moving away? Oh! You mean they’re quarreling about something. Probably one of those hot-to-trot little hussies at the dance was flirting with Duane instead of Charlie.” She stirred her latte. “Makes sense. Charlie was just fine when he left the house to pick up Duane. You could see that for yourself, but what was it, an hour or so later the sky had fallen.”
    “I’m sure that’s what it felt like to him,” I muttered more to myself than to Strutter . Then, “The thing is, Emma stopped in at the diner this morning, too. She ran into Charlie, as a matter of fact, and well, you know how young people are. Sometimes they prefer to talk to someone closer to their own age.”
    Strutter peered at me closely. “Did he tell Emma what the quarrel was about?”
    I looked at my friend, happily going down the wrong road here, and wondered how to broach the real problem. As long and as well as I’d known Charlene Putnam, nee Tuttle, she had never demonstrated an ounce of prejudice, but homosexuality was a topic we had never discussed. Well, there was that one occasion when I had mistakenly and hilariously encouraged a romance between Emma and a gay police officer, but that’s another story.
    “He did say he and Duane had had a misunderstanding at the dance, but it wasn’t about a girl.” I gulped nervously at my cappuccino as Strutter’s eyes narrowed.
    “You’re being awfully coy, Kate. It isn’t like you, and it’s starting to worry me. What problem is my son having that he could confide to your daughter but not to J.D. or me? Is Charlie dabbling in drugs?”
    There was a steely edge to her voice that mothers get when their children are in harm’s way.
    “No, no drugs, nothing like that. In fact, there’s nothing illegal involved at all. You don’t need to worry about that.”
    Strutter’s shoulders relaxed infinitesimally, but she remained braced for disaster. “Then what do I need to worry about? Stop shilly-shallying and just spit it out. Is Duane in some kind of trouble? I’ve known that boy for years and think of him as one of my own.”
    She was right. I had to stop dithering and tell Strutter the truth, but still I hesitated. It felt like such an intrusion to both Charlie and Duane, revealing something so personal. Would either of them thank me for outing Duane to Charlie’s mom? I doubted it. Still, Charlie had opened up to Emma. He was clearly looking for some help with this devastating news. Could Strutter handle it? Could J.D.?
    All of a sudden Strutter’s face cleared, and she sat up straight. “Charlie finally realized Duane is gay,” she said in obvious relief. “Something happened at the dance, and now