Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Gary switched off the engine but didn’t make a move to get out. Dan reached over and covered Gary’s hand with his.
“I know, okay?”
Gary jerked his head to look at him. “Is it that obvious?”
“No, but we’ve talked about this. I know the way these visits make you feel. Well, that’s why I’m here. Maybe we can turn them around.”
Oh Lord. Gary yearned for that.
Dan inclined his head toward the house. “Don’t look now but we’re being watched. I assume that’s your dad.”
Gary turned. Dad stood at the front door, staring at the car. He appeared a little older than the last time Gary had seen him in May. That was also the last time he’d seen Cory. They’d met at a gay bar on Gary’s way home from Springfield, mainly so he could decompress.
The recollection didn’t help his present mood.
There was nothing to do but get out of the car.
Gary led the way along the path, and Dad frowned as they drew closer.
“This is a surprise. It’s not Sunday.”
Before Gary could respond, Dan surged ahead. “When Gary told me about… your loss, I’m afraid I pretty much strong-armed him into bringing me here, Mr. Mitchell.”
“Mr. Porter, isn’t it?” Dad’s frown deepened. “Gary said on the phone that you’re a psychic?” He stared at Gary with obvious incredulity. “You’ve changed your tune.”
“Maybe I have, but don’t you think it would be more polite to invite us in rather than discuss this on the doorstep?”
His dad huffed but stood aside to let them enter. Once they were inside, he closed the door. “My wife’s in the kitchen. I’ll go get her. Gary, take your guest into the dining room.”
When Dad was out of sight, Dan leaned in and whispered, “Why the dining room?”
Gary’s chest tightened. “You’ll see.” The familiar chill he always experienced on entering the house stole over his skin, stroking it with icy fingers.
It doesn’t feel like a home anymore.
If anything, it felt more like a mausoleum.
As soon as Dan stepped into the room cluttered with photos of Brad, Gary saw the change in him. His breathing slowed, and he went from frame to frame, touching them lightly.
What does he feel?
Ever since he’d moved to Boston, Gary had tried to shut off his emotions when he visited, but he’d never succeeded. And as he watched Dan attempt to connect with whatever memories of Brad still lingered, Gary knew he wanted more than for Dan to lead him to Brad’s murderer.
He wanted Dan to bring light into his former home—and into his parents’ hearts and lives.
They’ve lived too long in the shadows cast by Brad’s horrific death.
Mom came into the room with more hesitation than Gary had anticipated.
“Mr. Porter?”
“Dan, please.” He indicated the photos. “Brad was a handsome young man.”
“So how do you work?”
Gary blinked. His mom wasn’t usually so abrupt. Then he reconsidered. She’s been through this so many times, and it’s always been without success. She’s steeling herself for failure.
“I thought I’d take Dan to Brad’s old room,” he offered.
“Do you want us there too?” Dad seems as ambivalent as Mom.
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather see it on my own. Gary can stay with me, however, if that’s okay. I’m used to working with him around,” Dan explained.
“Whatever you want.”
Gary winced internally to hear the resignation in Mom’s voice.
He recalled her past enthusiasm, even desperation, when she’d told him of yet another visit by yet another psychic, and each time no new information materialized, it seemed to him that something fractured inside her, splintering, shattering, taking off another piece of her soul.
He wasn’t sure Dan’s gift could do anything to repair that.
Dan paused at the door to Brad’s former bedroom, his heart pounding.
There was no way he could anticipate what awaited him on the other side of that door.
Each time he opened himself up fully, each time he allowed his gift to reveal where it would lead him, it always ended the same way—in sheer exhaustion.
Heightened emotions sapped his energy, and he needed a day or two to recharge his batteries.
This was different.
This was Gary’s brother, ripped from the world in the same manner some… monster had ripped Brad’s heart from his body before laying it in his hands.
Gary touched his back. “He might not have been in there for the past twenty-three years, but this is still Brad’s room. Nothing has been touched. It’s more like a shrine.”
Dan nodded. He sucked air into his lungs. “I’m ready. Open the door.”
Gary did as he asked, and Dan took another deep breath before stepping into the room.
At first glance, it appeared to be a simply furnished bedroom.
A colorful quilt covered the bed, and an oak chest of drawers stood against the wall.
On top of it were models of fighter jets, planes.
Books, posters, ornaments… they all told a story.
Dan walked around the room, touching, soaking up what emotions remained.
There were so many of them.
Dan glanced at Gary. “He was a happy child, wasn’t he?”
Gary smiled. “Yes, he was.”
Dan went over to the drawers and pulled the top one open. Gary joined him.
“This was where he kept what he called his treasures.”
Dan dipped his fingers into the clutter. “So many memories,” he murmured. The room was full of them.
Maybe it was time to see where those memories might lead.
Dan picked up the first thing that came to hand. It was a plastic ring, the kind that used to come in cereal boxes. He held it, unable to repress the shiver that trickled through him.
A pleasurable shiver.
“You’re picking up on something, aren’t you?”
Dan had to smile. “Whoever gave him this? Brad was in love with them.”
Gary stared at him. “I never thought Brad might have been in love. Put it this way—he never said anything about there being anyone in his life.”
Dan regarded him with arched eyebrows. “You were fifteen when he died. Was that the kind of relationship you had with him? Would he have shared something so intimate?”
Gary stilled. “No, I don’t think he would. We were always close, but….” He gazed at Dan, and the hope Dan saw there made his heart ache. “I don’t suppose you know who they were?”
“I don’t have a name, if that’s what you’re asking. But I do know one thing about them.” He smiled. “They were male.”
Gary’s jaw dropped. “Brad was gay?”
“Ah, I thought that might be news to you. It isn’t something I’ve ever heard you mention.” He nodded. “Brad was most definitely gay.” He replaced the ring in the drawer, then wandered over to the bookshelf, peering at the titles on the spines. “He liked to read.”
Gary chuckled. “Brad always had his nose in a book. He loved horrors and thrillers, and Mom used to say she couldn’t understand why anyone would read those kinds of books.”
One title caught his eye. “Why does this one ring a bell?” he murmured. Dan brushed his fingers down the spine, and a jolt of… something lanced through him.
Don’t pick it up.
He’d gotten this far, and far louder voices in his head were telling him to do exactly that. He plucked it from the shelf, then dropped it almost instantly to the rug, where it bounced, landing cover side down. Dan nursed his hand against his chest, wincing at the sensation.
It was as if the book’s surface had burned him.
“What’s wrong?” Gary’s hand was at his back in a heartbeat.
“I’m sensing really strong emotions, only they’re not Brad’s.” He shivered again, but this time there was no pleasure connected to the reaction.
Far from it.
Gary bent down and picked the book up. He turned it over to reveal the cover. “John D. MacDonald. The Executioners.” His eyes widened. “Have you seen this before? Was it in a dream? Or a vision?”
Dan was asking himself the same question.
“You told me Brad knew his killer.” Gary held the book up. “Did this belong to them?”
Dan steeled himself and took it from him with a shudder. He peered inside. “I was hoping for a name at least.” Just as quickly, he closed it and handed it back to Gary.
“I could have it dusted for fingerprints,” Gary suggested.
Dan shook his head. “Who knows how many people have handled it?”
“It might have belonged to someone at college. Or high school.”
“Possibly.” Dan didn’t want to think any more about the book.
His senses recoiled at the prospect of touching it again.
“But we have learned something important. Your brother was gay.” He gazed at his surroundings.
“There is so much love in this room: Brad’s love for you, for your parents.
” He couldn’t hold back the sigh that escaped him.
He’d picked up on something else as well—Gary’s mom’s despair, her sorrow, her hope.
“After so long, you’ve given me hope too,” Gary murmured.
It was only then that Dan realized he’d spoken out loud. He held his arms wide. “Come here.” Gary walked into them without a second’s hesitation, and Dan held him, feeling the pounding of Gary’s heart.
So much emotion barely contained below the surface….
He cupped Gary’s bearded chin and looked him in the eye. “This could be a marathon, not a sprint. You know that, right?”
Gary nodded. “And I can deal with that, as long as I have you.”
Dan pulled him in closer, and their lips met in a gentle kiss, only to break the embrace with a start when he heard a gasp.
Gary’s mom gaped at them.
“I think you two have got some explaining to do.”