A Reason to Believe (15 page)

through it until her hand emerged, clutching a cell

phone. “Hello? This is she…” She looked at her

brother, her expression guarded. “What would you

suggest?…All right. I’ll be in touch as soon as we

figure out what we’re doing.” She hung up with an

irritated huff.

“What is it?” Kiernan asked, clutching the dark

green blanket.

“That was the hotel. The local media is camped

out in the lobby, keeping an eye on all of the

entrances. Apparently, they’ve made it something

of a mission to figure out exactly what was going

on at the Reynolds’ house.” She sent Matt a

hooded glance. “And who was carrying you.”

Matt felt the muscles across his shoulders

tighten.

“It appears someone has dredged up the old

articles from Seattle…” Aidan said. Kiernan’s

expression hardened into one Matt couldn’t have

imagined on the friendly face minutes before, and

she held her hands up in surrender. “Do not kill the

messenger, brother mine.”

“This is not the same,” Kiernan said, his voice

low, vibrating with tension.

Aidan shot Matt a quick look and then shrugged.

“If you say so.”

“I don’t understand,” Matt said. “Why is the

media camped out in the lobby?”

“Kiernan is a public figure,” Aidan answered.

“His show is extremely popular, ratings-wise.

He’s something a cable rock star.”

“Oh, stop it,” Kiernan snapped.

“Just because it embarrasses you doesn’t mean

it isn’t true,” Aidan shot back. “He draws the

largest share of any cable program airing right

now. Bigger than those people with their eighteen

children and the
New Chef
show combined.”

“I had no idea,” Matt said. Aidan rolled her

eyes even as Kiernan choked out a startled laugh.

Matt looked down at him. “I didn’t mean to insult

—”

“You didn’t. It’s perfect, actually. You strike me

as more of an ESPN type of guy, anyway.”

“The point is,” Aidan went on, “with his

popularity comes a lot of speculation about his

private life.” Her eyes went back to her bother.

“Some network crews have shown up.” She

paused. “And the tabloids.”

“Fuck.” The humor faded from Kiernan’s pale

face. Now, he just looked weary.

“Tabloids like…
The National Inquisitor?
”

Matt asked.

“Exactly like that.” She sat next to her brother.

“Hotel management has asked us not to come back

right away, at least until they can get private

security to clear the lobby.”

“For which we will no doubt be charged,”

Kiernan said dryly.

“Actually, the woman who just called me was

very nice. She was more concerned about your

privacy than their expense.” She merely shrugged

when Kiernan shot her a skeptical look. “Look,

you don’t have to believe me. We have to get in to

pack so we can make our flight in the morning, but

in the meantime we need to make a decision about

what we’re going to do.”

“That’s simple,” Matt said, glancing between

them. “You can stay here.”

* * *

living room, his arm pillowed under his head,

staring out through the French doors that led to his

deck. He’d pulled the drapes open when sleep

eluded him. The snow continued to fall, piling up

inch by inch on his patio. There was at least a foot

of it, and it showed no signs of stopping. All

flights scheduled the next morning, both in and out,

had been canceled, and he chose not to examine

too closely the little surge of relief he felt at the

thought. He’d taken Aidan to the hotel so she could

pack an overnight bag for both of them, and the

night manager had been more than happy to bring

her in through a service entrance to avoid the

media still camped in the lobby.

A creak sounded from the hallway, and he

turned his head. Someone was standing in the

doorway. Matt stiffened, but he was able to make

out dark hair and square shoulders. He pushed up

onto an elbow.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Kiernan’s sleep-roughened voice came

out of the darkness and he took a tentative step into

the diffused light. He was wearing plaid flannel

pajama pants with another T-shirt. This one read

I’m Not a Proctologist, But I Know an Asshole

When I See One.

Matt chuckled and sat up. “Where do you get

those shirts?”

“Everywhere. It’s the one thing I collect when

we’re touring. I’ve got a million of them. Almost

literally.” He plucked at the hem of the shirt.

“Some of them Aidan won’t let me wear in

public.”

“I like that one,” Matt said. “I could use it

occasionally in my line of work.” Kiernan’s teeth

flashed white in the dim light. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I was asleep. And then…” He shrugged. “I

wasn’t.”

Matt studied him. “Visitor in my bedroom?”

Kiernan sat on the chair Matt had been in

earlier. “No. I don’t expect her tonight. It takes as

much energy for her to do that as it does for me to

see it.” He lifted his feet, wrapping his arms

around his legs. His bare toes curled over the edge

of the cushion. “Have you slept at all?”

“Too edgy.”

“The meeting with the boss in the morning?”

“Partly.” Matt shifted, pulling the heavy blanket

up under his arms. “And partly…this entire day.”

“It’s been pretty weird, even for me.” Kiernan’s

small smile was sheepish. “And I’d bet I’m more

accustomed to weird than you are.”

“I imagine you are.” Matt leaned back against

the sofa cushions. “You know, there was one thing

I forgot to ask you about earlier, if that’s okay?”

“Shoot.”

“Right at the beginning, there was the toy, the

unicorn. What was its name?”

Kiernan’s smile softened around the edges.

“Interesting question.”

“It stuck with me, for some reason.”

Kiernan eyes gleamed, even in the dim light.

“Skittles.”

Matt smiled faintly. “It is a good name for that

animal. And then, she said something about me,

didn’t she. Do you mind…?”

“She said you were a nice man. I agree with her.

You are.”

“Thanks.” The silence around them deepened.

“Can I ask you something else?”

Kiernan chuckled. “You’re certainly curious

tonight. But sure, go ahead.”

“What happened in Seattle that causes the

tension between you and Aidan?” It had been

bothering him all evening, ever since their pointed

exchange.

Kiernan’s amusement faded and he looked

away.

Instantly, Matt regretted asking. “Never mind.

It’s none of my business. She just gave me this

look, and I wondered…” Kiernan’s profile was

pale and stark in the blue-tinted light. “I’m sorry.

I’ve upset you, and I didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s all right.” Kiernan plucked absently at

the hem of his pajama pants. Eventually he turned

his head to Matt, his expression wary. “It’s a long

story.”

Matt’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’m not going

anywhere.”

Kiernan propped his chin on his knees. “Our

mum died when I was seven. This—thing I do,

with the dead. It came from her side of the family.

Her mother did it, her mother’s grandmother did it.

It skips a generation, and everyone thought it

would be Aidan who inherited it. No one expected

it to be me. Least of all, my da. He never

understood, thought it was weird. Which, frankly,

even I can admit it is. Anyway, she died of

cancer.”

“I’m sorry,” Matt murmured.

“I wasn’t as aware of it as I would have been if

I’d been older. It was harder on Aidan.” He

paused, fingers absently worrying the hem near his

bony ankle. “She inherited the mothering duty. Da

and I never had much in common, but after Mum

died, there was…nothing. I wasn’t athletic, or

particularly masculine, and he didn’t know what to

make of me at all. He left most of the

responsibility for taking care of me to Aidan.

She’s three years older, but it was an unfair burden

to put on a ten-year-old. Things were never great

between me and the old man, but we were okay as

long as she was there as a buffer. When she was

eighteen, she got a college scholarship and moved

out. For the first time, Da and I were forced to live

with just each other.”

He twisted the hem of his pants, the only

evidence of his discomfort. “In his defense, I know

I’m odd.”

Matt made a protesting sound, but Kiernan

shook his head.

“No, I am. He’s very blue-collar. I’m—”

Kiernan gestured toward his chest, “—me. And I

was a mouthy little shit. I talked back, defied him.

In retrospect I think I was just trying to get him to

notice me, but I was pretty stupid with the way I

went about it. One afternoon, he came home early

from work and found me on the couch with a guy

from school. We weren’t exactly playing video

games, if you get my drift. He…lost it. The seeing-

dead-people thing was weird enough, but finding

out his son was queer…” He hunched his

shoulders. “He threw my friend out of the house,

and—” he hesitated, swallowing deeply before

going on, “—well, he beat the shit out of me.”

Matt was shocked. His relationship with his

own father was strained, but the man had never hit

him.

“I had a broken arm and a fractured skull,”

Kiernan went on with studied casualness, but Matt

didn’t buy it for a moment. Something like that left

scars, even ones that didn’t show.

“The cops were called. Child Protective

Services got involved, started making noises about

putting me in the foster system.” He took a deep

breath and slowly released it. “Someone managed

to get ahold of Aidan. She waited until the middle

of the night, and then snuck me out of the hospital.

She knew where Da kept his money hidden. He

didn’t trust banks, so he kept it wrapped in foil in

the freezer.” He exhaled on a tight laugh. “Right

between the hamburger and the frozen peas. She

took all of it, about four thousand dollars, and we

disappeared. She walked away from her

scholarship, and her friends, all because of me.”

Matt watched the emotions that played over the

mobile face. Loss, regret, guilt. The strong feelings

of protectiveness he’d felt earlier surged through

him again.

“We didn’t stay in any one place for a long

time,” Kiernan went on. “We’d never imagined

this—thing I do could be anything more than some

parlor trick. We’d settled in L.A. I was in high

school. Aidan was working two jobs to keep a

roof over our heads.”

His eyes turned pensive. “I had a teacher I liked

a lot. She’d recently lost her daughter in an

accident. No one could tell her what happened.

The girl’s car exploded, and the mother was

torturing herself with every nightmare scenario

imaginable.” He linked his fingers around his

shins. “The daughter appeared to me one day in

class, standing behind her mother. She kept

begging me to tell her mom she hadn’t suffered,

that she never knew what happened. Finally, just to

get her to leave me alone—I did. The teacher

didn’t believe me at first but I was able to tell her

the girl’s name, what kind of car she’d been

driving, where the accident had happened. She

asked me to tell her everything I could, and then

she gave me a check for five hundred dollars.”

“So, is that what got you started?” Matt asked.

“Doing it professionally?”

“It seemed like a viable option. And it beat the

hell out of Aidan killing herself, working splits

between a coffee house and waiting tables in a

diner. It didn’t take off right away, but

eventually…” He spread his hands.

“Have you ever seen or heard from your

father?”

“No. He’s never tried to find us. I have no idea

if he knows about the show or not. When I started,

it was just private readings. Then as my reputation

grew, the tours and the public sessions followed.