aterovis_bm_reapthewhirlwind.p65 (34 page)

A wave of anger suddenly burned through me. “If you’d done your job in the first place I wouldn’t be in police business,” I snarled.

He stopped on his way to the door and turned slowly back to face me.

“Maybe you’re right, but I’m telling you we’re on it now and I want you out of it.” He turned to leave again.

“Do you even know that it was a girl with Joey that night?” I called out.

He stopped again and turned sharply on his heel.

“What did you say?”

“It was a girl, with Joey, right before he died. They were arguing…”

“How do you know that?”

“Robbie told me, on the phone last night. You mean the junior detectives found something out the big bad policemen didn’t know?”

He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed the front of my shirt, and slammed me back against the wall.

“Listen kid,” he snarled, “I’ve tried to be nice up to now, but I’ve just about had it with you and your little friends. You’re damn lucky I’m not bringing you up on obstruction charges and you’re even luckier that you aren’t dead yet. It’s because of your fucking around in police business that that kid is even dead now. Did you think about that? And for that matter probably the girl too. And if you keep it up you can bet your sweet ass 313

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that you’ll be joining them. Then they can thank you in person for getting them killed.”

He stared down at me for a few seconds before letting go of me. I slid to the floor where I started shaking.

He stalked to the door then paused before leaving. “Stay out of this kid. I mean it.” And he was gone.

When Nikki found me a few minutes later, I was crying so hard I couldn’t talk. I was still crying when Aidan arrived to take me home. By the time we got to the apartment, I had pulled myself together enough to tell Aidan what had happened. He was as shaken up about the news of Robbie Meade’s death as I had been. He had already received word about the police visit to Gabe’s house; Gabe had called him as soon as they left.

“Grafton was way out of line,” Aidan said. We were sitting on the couch, Aidan with his arms around me, holding me close. “He can’t know that Robbie died because of us. He should have never said that.”

“He’s right,” I sniffled. “We’re as much to blame for his and Blake’s death as if we’d killed them ourselves.”

“That’s insane,” he argued. “The killer would have found them herself eventually. What were we supposed to do, just let her get away with Joey’s death?”

“At least no one else would have died.”

“You can’t know that. We did what we thought was best at the time, and I still think it was best. If someone is crazy enough to kill once, chances are they’ll kill again.

Especially if they got away with it the first time.”

“It’s just that this killer always seems to be one step ahead of us.”

“Or one step behind us. Actually, if anything, she seems to be right in step with us.”

I sat up and pulled away.

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“I’m sorry, Will. I didn’t mean to bring that up again.”

“Laura called Robbie last night.”

“What?”

“While I was talking to him. That’s why he hung up on me; he had another call coming in.”

“Why would Laura call him?”

“To get his address?”

“Will, don’t go jumping to conclusions.”

“You and Killian are the ones that suspected her.”

“We didn’t say we suspected her; it was just a possibility. Look, we’ll just look into it and figure out for sure…”

“No. We won’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re out of it.”

“What? We can’t just—”

“Aidan, we’re done, finished. I told you what Grafton said; it’s up to the police now. Too many people have died. I can’t lose anyone else. I—I can’t risk losing you.”

He pulled me into his chest again and I cuddled into him gratefully.

“You’re right,” he said, rubbing his hands over my back. “I just wish I could be there when they bring this bitch in. After all she’s put you through…”

“I’m so lucky to have you,” I whispered.

***

“What happened after Joey attacked you and you ran away?” he said over breakfast.

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I stared at my bowl of cereal for a second, then pushed it away. I seemed to have suddenly lost my appetite.

“Do we have to talk about this now?” I asked plain-tively.

“I’m just trying to settle all the loose ends in my mind.”

I sighed. “I ran downstairs and then I went outside.”

“Right away?”

“Huh?”

“You went straight outside after you came downstairs?”

“No, I got sick so I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in. Why?”

“I’m just trying to create a timetable between when you last saw Joey and when Blake and Robbie found him in the pool.”

“We’re out of this, remember? It’s up to the police now.”

“For my peace of mind, Will. How long were you in the bathroom?”

“I don’t know. I forgot my stopwatch.”

“Five minutes? Ten?”

“More like fifteen or twenty.”

“That long to blow chunks?”

“No, once I was in there I didn’t want to come out. It was like my own private sanctuary for a little while. I just sat there and cried until someone pounding on the door became too much. Then I went outside.”

“And Caitlin was there? Under the tree?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it?”

“Yeah. That’s all.”

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“Aidan, what’s going on? What was that all about?”

He got up, walked around the table to my side, and bent over for a kiss.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ve got to get to school now and you’ve got to get to work. I’ll see you this evening.”

The next couple days passed without incident. Everyone was shaken up by the news of Robbie’s death and no one was eager to go on playing detective. It was obvious that we’d been playing out of our league.

Neither Aidan nor I was in exactly a party-planning mood, so we left all the wedding plans to Adam. We were going to be almost as surprised as our guests.

On Wednesday, Ilana called and said that the papers were ready. After talking to Caitlin, I called Ilana back and made an appointment for the two of us to look over and sign them the next day.

Caitlin was strangely quiet on the ride over to Ilana’s office Thursday afternoon.

“Are you okay?” I asked her in the elevator.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just seem kinda distant.”

“I guess this is just a big step. I’m glad we’re doing this, but in some ways I feel like I’m giving up my baby.”

“You’re not giving up your baby. No matter what, you’ll always be its mother.”

She smiled. “I know. You’re right. I’m just being silly.”

The explanation of the papers was long and somewhat boring, filled with legalese and formal phrases that didn’t make much sense. After that, the actual signing of the papers was surprisingly quick and more than a little anticlimactic. It seemed hard to believe that simply signing my name on a few lines could make such a 317

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huge difference to so many lives, including one that was yet to be born.

I shared my feelings with Caitlin on the elevator ride down.

“It does seem unreal,” she agreed. “If I wasn’t starting to show I almost wouldn’t believe any of it.”

“You’re starting to show?” I asked in surprise. I hadn’t noticed at all.

Caitlin proudly pulled her shirt tight across her belly and sure enough, the beginning of a very slight pot-belly could be seen.

I grinned at her with a slightly giddy feeling.

“We should do something to celebrate,” I said.

“What? The signing of the papers or me showing?”

“Both.” I laughed.

We went to a nice Chinese restaurant, Caitlin said she was craving egg drop soup, and had a celebratory lunch.

After I dropped her off at her apartment, I found myself driving in the direction of my parents’ home instead of our apartment. It took me a while to realize what I was doing, and when I did, I decided that it was a sign. They had been on my mind more and more of late, and I found myself wanting to at least make an effort to include them in my life once again, especially now, when I was about to become a parent of a sort. I could really use the advice. No book, no matter how many times I read it, could ever take the place of good solid experience. And besides, there’s just something about becoming a parent that makes you connect to your parents in some strange way.

I pulled into the driveway and was surprised to see Dad’s car there in the mid-afternoon. He was almost 318

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never home during the day; he practically lived at the church. I walked slowly up to the door and stood there a minute without knocking. Now that I was there, I was suddenly less sure of what I was doing. What exactly was I doing? Was I expecting a warm greeting with open arms? If so I suspected I was at the wrong address. I remembered Mom’s voice on the phone the day they found out I was gay. “You’re father says you’re not welcome back here…” Just as I was about to turn and leave the door swung open to reveal my mother.

“Will?” she said with a confused expression on her careworn face. She looked older than the last time I had seen her. “I—I thought I heard a car pull up.”

“Mom,” I said in surprise. I couldn’t think of anything to say so we stood there awkwardly, looking at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally I said, “I don’t know what I’m doing here. I shouldn’t have come.” I turned to leave.

“Will,” she called softly, “come in. Please?”

I turned to see she was holding the door open. I hesitated just a second before stepping inside. I hadn’t been in the house in months, but nothing had changed. Everything was right where it always was. Mom started for the kitchen and I followed her.

“Where is Dad? Why is his car here?” I asked her as we walked.

She didn’t answer until we were in the kitchen. She sat in one of the chairs that had been around longer than I had and let out a deep sigh.

“You’re father is sick, Will.”

“What? Sick how?”

“We don’t know exactly. He had some kind of attack.

The doctors think it’s his heart.”

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“When? Why didn’t I know?”

“Last month, right before Thanksgiving. I didn’t call because he didn’t want you to know. It’s—it’s been hard.

He’s not recovering like he should be. The doctors say it’s just one of those things they can’t explain. For all their technology and miracle cures, some things are still beyond their understanding. So all we can do is watch and wait.”

“Can I—will he see me?”

She thought for a moment. “Probably, yes. A lot has changed since his attack. He’s changed. Let me go in first and make sure; he’s so weak now.”

She stood up slowly and walked out of the room. I noticed that she moved like an old woman, as if every movement was an effort. She wasn’t gone too long before she was back.

She nodded. “No surprises though, Will. He’s really very weak. And don’t be too shocked when you see him.

He probably should be in the hospital but he insisted, and since there wasn’t really anything they could do they let him come home.”

I nodded numbly and followed her upstairs to their bedroom. The first thing I noticed was how much like a hospital room it looked. Dad was lying slightly elevated in a hospital bed that must have been brought in just for him. Machines stood all around him, like malevo-lent guards. Most of the room’s furnishings had been moved out to make room for all the new paraphernalia. I put off focusing on Dad until last. If Mom hadn’t told me that it was Dad, I would have never recognized him. He was a pale shadow of his former self, gray and faded.

“Will, I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said 320

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weakly.

“Like what, Dad?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light and knowing there was a slight quiver in it anyway. “You look great.”

“No, I look like death warmed over. I won’t be here much longer. I—I’m glad you came.”

“Don’t say that, Dad.” I moved closer to the bed and sat down in the chair that was there.

“Why not? It’s the truth. I feel it. I see it in the doctors’ faces, although they are scared to say it. I see it in your mother’s face, although she’s terrified to even think it. I’m not afraid to die, Will. I’ve been preparing for it all my life. I have a peace about death. What I didn’t have a peace about was how I’d left things with you.

And here you are. God brought you to me so I could make my peace with you before I go.”

“Dad, stop talking like this. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Son, I know I handled things badly. I know I hurt you.”

“Don’t worry about that; I’m okay now.”

“No thanks to me. You almost died; if that had happened I don’t think I could have ever forgiven myself.”

He took my hand that was lying on the bed and gripped it tightly.

I was amazed at the difference that had come over him. Could this be the same man who had practically disowned me just a few months before?

“I handled things badly,” he went on. “I should have known that you’re my son and above all else, that comes first. I messed up. I thought with my head instead of my heart. I thought I was doing what was right, as far as the church was concerned. I never stopped to think 321

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about whether or not it was right for you, for our family. I don’t know—if you ever have children, don’t ever turn them away, no matter what they do. Promise me, Will.”

“I promise. You know—I’m still gay you know,” I said uncertainly. I wasn’t sure if that was too much or what.

“I know, Will,” he said. His eyes closed and for a second I was afraid he had passed out or worse. But then they opened again. “I can’t say that I accept it still. I don’t understand. Everything I’ve ever been taught says one thing and my heart says another. I don’t know if I will ever be able to accept it, but I love you and that’s all I can offer right now.”