Out-Foxed

OUT-FOXED

The Skyler Foxe Novels by Haley Walsh

Foxe Tail

Foxe Hunt

Out-Foxed

Foxe Den: A Holiday Collection (Novella)

Foxe Fire

Desert Foxe

Foxe Den 2: Summer Vacation (Novella)

Crazy Like A Foxe

Stone Cold Foxe

A Very Merry Foxemas (Novella)

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any

resemblance to actual persons,

living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

First edition MLR Press 2012

Second edition Foxe Press 2017

Copyright © Haley Walsh 2012

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part

in any form.

Cover design by Jeri Westerson

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. The eBook version cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook version can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher.

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Foxe Press

PO Box 799

Sun City, CA 92586

To my Long Suffering Husband.

You are the Keith to my Skyler.

Introduction

This book is the third of a trilogy. It is recommended that you read the first two in order, even though, individually, the books can technically stand alone, there is so much more to get out of it if you begin at the beginning. The first book, FOXE TAIL, introduces Skyler Foxe and the other characters in the series and starts the ball rolling on a mystery that spans three books. FOXE HUNT is the second book, and furthers the story of the romantic leads along with its own mystery to solve while still adding more to the greater overarching mystery. This book, OUT-FOXED, adds yet more mystery to the mix, but ultimately explains it all. But don’t think that this is the end of Skyler Foxe and his gang. There’s more to come. Enjoy.

"This lion is a very fox for his valour."

--A Midsummer’s Night Dream, William Shakespeare

Chapter One

SKYLER FOXE STOOD FOR A LONG TIME IN HIS principal’s living room, the man’s words about Keith Fletcher resonating in his brain.

Keith Fletcher. Gorgeous assistant football coach and biology teacher. Keith Fletcher, Skyler's lover for the past few weeks and then, very briefly, thought of as a boyfriend.

Keith Fletcher, the man who apparently stashed a number of fake driver’s licenses in his apartment with different identities, along with a gun.

And now Skyler was expected to let his emotions flip flop again—mistrust, trust, mistrust—into trust again?

For a long time, he had had his suspicions about the assistant football coach. First Skyler thought he was a homophobic jock, just trying to give Skyler a hard time in his first year as a brand new high school teacher. But then he discovered—most pleasantly indeed—that Keith was neither giving him a hard time or was homophobic, being that he was a closeted teacher as well. They had been attracted to one another in a crazy dance of denial, and Skyler couldn’t count the times Keith was in his bed in the last few weeks, giving him a hard time of another sort. But then the old suspicions were back and the lies had surfaced.

But now…

Skyler lowered to the sofa, his knees unable to hold him up anymore. Are you sure, Mr. Sherman? Are you sure that Keith is with the…FBI?

He couldn’t believe it. All those lies were all just a cover-up to hide what Keith was really doing?

Wesley Sherman straightened his bathrobe. Skyler had quickly forgotten that he had barged into the man’s house in the early hours of a Saturday morning.

Mr. Sherman, his school principal, was a throwback to an earlier era. Pushing fifty, his hair showed no gray but was instead a mousy brown and cut in a conservative above-the-ears style. He wore suits to work and appeared to be a fairly straight-laced fellow, but Skyler knew that still waters run deep, and they ran mighty deep in Mr. Sherman. He was more savvy than most people gave him credit for. And now there was a whole new level that Skyler was beginning to appreciate.

He sat next to Skyler and leaned back with a sigh. Yes, I’m quite sure. There is a lot going on, Mr. Foxe, that I am not at liberty to discuss with you.

But Skyler jumped on all the things he needed to know and know now. Is ‘Keith Fletcher’ his real name?

As far as I know it is.

Is he really a teacher?

I was assured by the FBI that he is indeed an accredited biology teacher and football coach.

So…he’s undercover?

Mr. Sherman brushed back his mussed hair and folded his arms over his chest. Yes. The FBI asked to place him. And that’s really all I can tell you. Frankly, Mr. Foxe, because of the nature of your relationship with Mr. Fletcher, I thought he would have at least told you this much already.

Me, too. The fear was gone. Keith was a good guy, after all. No wonder Skyler’s best friend Sidney Feldman, one of Redlands’ best police detectives, said that his record was clean except for suspicious holes.

Holes like all the time he spent at Quantico.

All the fear might have drained away but that left only anger. How dare he! How dare he fuck Skyler, make him care, and use him like this! What the hell! He couldn’t tell the guy he supposedly cared about, the guy he was schtooping almost every night, that he was undercover at the school and could Skyler please keep it under his hat or someone could get hurt? He couldn’t trust Skyler enough with that little tidbit of news?

He jumped to his feet. He didn’t know which way to turn. He made a lunge for the front door but Mr. Sherman grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down to the sofa.

Skyler stared at the man. He had forgotten his principal was even in the room.

Mr. Foxe, if anyone wears his heart on his sleeve it’s certainly you. I could see everything you were thinking written plainly on your face. Please calm down and think this through.

This is bullshit, Mr. Sherman! He lied to me. Everything he said was a lie.

I very much doubt that. He assured me that he would try to maintain his cover by telling as few lies as possible, especially about his background and his other life experiences. And I have to believe, that whatever personal thing he shared with you about your…relationship…was also true. He didn’t strike me as the type of man who would deceive in that manner.

Skyler was breathing hard and he tried to listen to Mr. Sherman’s words and absorb them but he couldn’t help but feel hurt. Skyler hadn’t been the world’s most monogamous man. As a matter of fact, he was, by all accounts, a bit of a slut. His group of close friends even jokingly called themselves the Skyler Fuck Club or S.F.C., because they had all been Skyler’s tricks before becoming friends. But on meeting Keith, all that had changed. He hadn’t been with anyone else once he began, well, dating him, something he had never done before either. And he hadn’t wanted to be with anyone else. Keith was interesting and romantic and damned good in bed.

He hated to think that any of that was a lie.

Well that’s the thing, Mr. Sherman. I don’t know any of that, do I? He hated that his voice trembled and he wiped hard at the moisture in his eye.

No, I suppose not. But just know this. What he’s been doing has been very dangerous, but personally I have felt more at ease since he has come to the school. My son… He paused. His face moved through every transition possible; from grief, to anger, to stoicism, and finally acceptance. It was his son who was killed when all this started, though no one at the school was responsible for it. Yet, Wesley Jr.’s death still threw a pall on everything that was happening at the school, and there was plenty happening if the FBI had gotten involved.

Mr. Sherman dug his fingers into his own eyes, ostensibly to stem a headache, but Skyler suspected he was wiping them of tears. I suggest that you might wish to give Coach Fletcher a chance to explain himself, at the very least, said the principal into his hand before meeting Skyler’s gaze again. And don’t forget. He will undoubtedly be your ally when the school board convenes, as I’m sure they will.

Oh shit! Skyler had nearly forgotten about that. And that was Keith’s fault, too! He never would have outed himself in front of the school staff and students like that. Dancing together at a sophomore school dance! That had been insane. But Keith with his blue, blue eyes and his sexy beard stubble, and his gentle plea, Dance with me, babe, and Skyler had been putty in his hands. And now everything was a mess.

I can see it all on your face again, Mr. Foxe. What can I do to help?

Have you got anything to drink?

It’s six a.m. He shrugged. I’m usually not a drinking man, but lately, there have been a few too many…events…in my life. He rose, and Skyler suddenly felt like shit watching him retreat to his darkened dining room. It was only a month or so ago that Skyler had found Sherman’s murdered son outside a dance club. Maybe it was the fact that his son had been gay, too, or that Skyler had found the culprits, but the staid Mr. Sherman had taken Skyler under his wing and had even vowed to stand up for him when the school board meeting convened to see what to do about Keith and Skyler's stunt.

Had that only occurred just a few hours ago? God, so much had happened. The dance, another murderer apprehended, Skyler thinking Keith was a criminal, and now this.

He slumped on the sofa, easing himself with the fresh scent of lemon-waxed floors and shampooed upholstery. Mr. Sherman’s house was as spic and span as the man was himself. It was an orderly house but was somehow hollow and had all the comfort of a model home.

Sherman returned with two glasses of something caramel-colored with ice. He handed one to Skyler and examined it himself through the cut crystal. Skyler sniffed it experimentally. Scotch.

Well, said Mr. Sherman, solemn-faced as always. As they say, bottoms up.

Skyler choked a frantic laugh and raised it to his lips. He drank it down too fast for the burn to catch up to it. When it finally hit his throat, he expelled a fume-filled breath.

Mr. Sherman blinked his watery eyes a few times before setting the empty glass down on his thigh. Yes. Well.

Skyler sat back, letting the alcohol warm his chest. But once it had started coursing through his system, he began to feel uncomfortable. Mr. Sherman was not the chummy type and this was bordering on sociable, sharing a drink in the early morning hours with one of his teachers. It was downright surreal.

Skyler turned his head to face the man. Thanks. I think maybe I should go.

Are you feeling a little calmer?

Yes. Yes, I am. Thanks for that. But I’m still going to have to talk to Keith about this.

I understand. He rose and Skyler followed him to the door. Mr. Sherman unlocked it and opened it for Skyler. Be careful driving, Mr. Foxe. I hope all is well enough that we can return to some semblance of order on Monday.

Believe me, Mr. Sherman. I’d like that, too.

He shook the man’s hand—Mr. Sherman in his bathrobe and Skyler in jeans and t-shirt—and walked slowly down the front pathway to the sidewalk.

Getting into his car, he watched the front door close and the porch light switch off. The living room light was doused and then another smaller one switched on upstairs.

He turned forward and stared at the steering wheel of his VW Bug. The horizon was beginning to glow from the impending sunrise. Trees and other objects were becoming clearer in the climbing light. He glanced at the clock and the green numbers showed him it was almost six am. What should he do first? Well, he supposed he should call Sidney and make sure she didn’t shoot Keith!

He quickly grabbed his phone and clicked it on. He punched in Sidney’s cell number and waited, tapping his hand impatiently on the steering wheel. Come on, Sidney. Pick up!

A click. Skyler! Where the fuck are you? I told you to stay at my apartment.

I know. I did. But then I had to go over to Mr. Sherman’s house.

What the hell are you doing there?

I wanted to warn him about Keith.

You do know what a phone is, right?

"Yes, detective, I know that. But I wanted to tell him…you know, in person."

Well, get over here so I can lock you in. I have Mike going over to Keith’s to bring him in for questioning.

You don’t have to do that. Keith is okay.

Skyler, I am going to kill you. Were you lying to me about all that stuff?

"No! Just call your partner back and tell him he doesn’t have to do that. Jeez, I don’t know how many people should know this but…I guess you should know. Mr. Sherman told me that Keith isn’t a criminal. He works for the FBI. He’s been undercover at the school all this time."

Silence.

Sidney? Are you there?

"You have got to be shitting me."

No. No shit here.

"Jesus H. Christ. Couldn’t the Feds bother to tell us this? Like we can’t keep a fucking secret? What the hell? This isn’t Mayberry. We have real law enforcement here."

I know, Sidney.

There was more cursing. He didn’t know where she picked it up but sometimes she could make a rapper blush. So what is he investigating? she asked when the diatribe had cooled. At the school, no less?

Mr. Sherman couldn’t tell me. The man’s undercover. It’s dangerous. But even as he said it, he began to feel a little proud of Special Agent Fletcher. So, not only an accomplished football coach and biology teacher, but G-man extraordinaire? It was kind of exciting. And sexy.

Oh that’s nice. No one gets to know. I’ll be calling the Feds first thing Monday morning.

Shouldn’t you be calling Mike de Guzman right now so he doesn’t shoot Keith or something?

I guess so. This really pisses me off.

What about me? It would have been nice to know some of this a while ago so I didn’t freak out.

Sidney sighed long and deep. I suppose it’s make-up sex time for you, then.

Skyler hadn’t thought of that, but now handcuffs were starting to creep into the picture. I think I have some messages to return. Call Mike right now!

Yes, dear. Are you still staying at my place?

No need to. I’ll be at home. I think. Bye. He clicked off and punched in Keith’s number.

He picked up immediately. God, Skyler. I’m so glad to hear from you. You have to let me explain.

You’d better come over to my place. The cops are heading over to yours.

The cops? And just then Skyler heard sirens in the background. I think I gotta go. I’ll be there in a few. The phone went dead. Skyler hoped that meant that Keith was just hanging up.

Skyler smiled for the first time that morning and started his car. Let Keith take the heat for a change.

He was only a few blocks from home so it took no time at all to pull in front of his apartment, one of Redlands’ many old Victorian houses converted into multiple dwellings. The yard was filled with dwarf citrus trees and topiary hedges, while tall Washingtonia palm trees lined the streets, swaying their mysterious shadows above the vintage lamp posts.

Skyler's place was up an outside stair leading to a round tower covered in decorative gingerbread. And sitting on the top step of his landing, was Keith Fletcher.

He certainly got there in record time. Skyler smiled again upon seeing him. He really was a gorgeous hunk of male flesh. Ice blue eyes, black mussed hair, square jaw covered in cultivated beard stubble, he was every gay man’s underwear model dream.

He stood when Skyler got halfway up the stairs, all six foot six of him, and though he was a big broad-shouldered man, he meekly stepped aside for Skyler, looking for all the world like a puppy expecting to get smacked on the nose with a newspaper.

Skyler said nothing as he unlocked his door and left it open behind him so that Keith could follow. He switched on a light, closed the door, and then turned to face Keith, arms folded neatly over his chest.

He let the man stew for another moment more before he gave him a smirk. In his best Ricky Ricardo accent he said, Lucy, you got some ‘splaining to do.

Chapter Two

FIRST OFF, SAID SKYLER, I JUST GOT BACK FROM Mr. Sherman’s house. Seems I was warning him about how dangerous you are.

Jeez. Keith raked his hand over his shaking head, looking at the floor.

And second…he told me about you. That you’re not a criminal and in fact one of the good guys.

His head snapped up. Did he say—?

"That you were with the FBI. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?"

Skyler, I couldn’t. That’s the whole point of going undercover. He took a step back and slid onto one of the bar stools at the breakfast counter. Did he blow my cover? Did he say I was done?

No. He wouldn’t tell me anything. But he did say he feels safer with you there.

I think Julia Meyers would beg to disagree.

Skyler's eyes widened. Julia Meyers was a calculus teacher. She had suspicions about the football coach and his cronies and the month before she had been pushed down the school stairs by person or persons unknown. It was only days ago that she awakened from her coma but she couldn’t remember what happened, though she still recalled the troubles that got her there.

This has something to do with that? I knew it!

Don’t get ahead of yourself. Let me start from the beginning.

Skyler sat on the sofa with a few yards of floor between them. It was safer, this distance. It allowed Keith to tell his story without Skyler jumping his bones, which he suddenly wanted so desperately to do.

When I was in college I was going to play ball and get a biology degree. The degree was because my dad insisted, told me I had to have one in case football didn’t work out. Good thing, too, because I screwed up my knee and there went any pro aspirations.

Skyler leaned closer. "I didn’t know that. You were that good? I thought you said you just gave it up."

Gave it up after I had to. Biology was looking better and better and so I went for it. I…uh… went for it so much I got a PhD. And a teaching credential.

So where does the FBI come in?

It comes in around the time I’m finishing my Master’s thesis. I was approached. Recruited. If I couldn’t run down a field how’s about running down bad guys? It looked good to me. So I left school for a while to go to Quantico. Got through it and got my first couple of gigs as Special Agent Fletcher. Decided I didn’t really want to do that and finished up my doctorate. I ended up teaching in Seattle at a high school instead of the university. That job was easier to get.

Wow. What didn’t you like about the FBI?

He sighed and looked Skyler in the eye. I don’t like shooting people.

Fuck. Wh-who did you—

It’s not something I talk about.

Oh. So, you taught school and then what? The FBI just calls you back one day?

That’s about the size of it. I got a call from the Bureau saying they had something for me right up my alley and would I come back for it? There was a situation at a California high school. One of the teachers feels threatened, might leave early if given an incentive and there would be a place for a plant on a subject I am qualified to teach. I said I wasn’t interested. But then they told me more details and I changed my mind.

"Incentive? You mean Jordan Stacey, the biology teacher you replaced, was paid to leave?"

Essentially. If you consider witness protection an incentive.

Witness protection? Jeez. He sat back, his mouth gaping. Even crazier than his wild imagination was making it out to be. So what is it, then? Why are you here?

I can’t talk about it.

It’s the football coach, isn’t it? That bastard Scott Carson. I know he had nothing to do with Wes Sherman’s death but I don’t trust that guy no matter what Sidney says. That’s it, right?

Keith’s eyes narrowed. What part of ‘I can’t talk about it’ don’t you get?

Skyler jumped to his feet. Come on, Keith! Julia was pushed down the fucking stairs. Maybe I’ll be next.

"Which is precisely why I want you to stay out of it."

Skyler was working himself up. He knew he was. He was still running on adrenalin. Not a wink of sleep all night. A glance at the clock told him it was almost seven o’clock, but he couldn’t stop. "This is my school. It’s more than that. It’s my alma mater, it’s where I teach, it’s the place where my kids are, the ones I care about. I’m not staying out of it."

Keith stood up. Skyler stopped his pacing and looked up at him. Skyler, you saw my gun. It’s not just an ornament.

Skyler gasped. Oh my God! You bring it to school!

Keith was tight-lipped and silent.

You do!

I. Can’t. Talk. About. It.

That took him aback. Keith was still being a cop. Skyler would have thought knowing Sidney all these years would have made him used to that, but it had the opposite effect. He began thinking about their relationship for the past few weeks. Skyler hadn’t wanted to date at first. He had never dated before. It was all about getting the next trick, getting laid. But now…

Hell, he liked Keith. The man was a dynamo in bed and romantic and sweet the rest of the time.

Well…what about us? he asked softly. When your case is over are you just going to… leave?

Keith sagged and leaned against the bar. I don’t know.

Angry again, Skyler moved closer. "You don’t know?"

Look, it’s complicated.

He shook his head. I’m suddenly outed and have all this shit piled up on me and you don’t know.

You didn’t have to dance with me.

I know that! But it was one of those Great Moments. It was…special.

Keith took a step closer and eased his hand over Skyler's shoulders. He tried to drag him forward but Skyler resisted. I’m sorry, Skyler.