aterovis_bm_reapthewhirlwind.p65 (25 page)

“Should we ask Mrs. Taylor what her husband’s name was?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Laura said thoughtfully. “It might just upset her to know that Joey went behind her back and found his dad against her wishes.”

“So how do we find him? I guess we can assume he’s a Mr. Taylor, but that’s a pretty common last name. That doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”

“But how many own boats docked at the marina?”

“Good point,” I said. “We can go down there and ask around.”

“I can’t do it now,” Laura said. “This took longer than I thought it would and I’m meeting Gabe for dinner.

Maybe you and Aidan can do it tomorrow.”

“I can go by myself.”

“I don’t think you should go by yourself; you don’t know what this guy is like. Maybe he’s the one who 226

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killed Joey. Besides, Killian said we should do things in pairs.” Her eyes narrowed with an evil glint and I knew she was getting ready to say something she thought would irk me. “Why don’t you want to go with Aidan?

He is your boyfriend, isn’t he?”

Even though I knew she was trying to draw me in, I couldn’t help myself. “He’s not my boyfriend!” I exclaimed. “We’re just friends.”

“Uh huh, if you say so.”

“I do say so! We’re friends and that’s it.”

“Okay, whatever you say.”

“Laura, we are not boyfriends!”

“I’m not arguing. Who exactly are you trying to convince?”

I sputtered impotently for a few seconds as a small, satisfied smile played at Laura’s lips. “Are we done here?” she asked, nonchalantly.

“Yes, I think we are definitely done here.” I was steaming.

I followed Laura out of Joey’s old room and back into the living room, where we thanked Mrs. Taylor and left.

I seethed over Laura’s crack about Aidan and me all the way back to my car. I wasn’t interested in Aidan in that way—was I? I pushed it out of my mind; I couldn’t even think about that right now. I had more important things to worry about, like who killed Joey.

“Do you really think Joey’s dad might have killed him?” I said when she pulled up next to my car in the plaza parking lot. “I mean killing your own son?”

“It’s happened before. We don’t know anything about this guy. For all we know he’s been in prison for murder for the past fifteen years. We’ll know more after you and Aidan track him down. For now, I’d definitely 227

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say he’s a suspect.”

“Okay, I guess you’re right. I’ll see you later, Laurie-belle,” I said, using her childhood nickname as I got out of the car. “Oh—and I’m not interested in Aidan in that way.”

She grinned knowingly. “Methinks thou dost protest too much.” And with that, she reached over, slammed the door, and drove quickly away, leaving me fuming in the parking lot.

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The next morning I awoke to the sound of pounding coming from the front door. I stumbled out of my room and into the hall where I met a sleepy Aidan, looking as startled as I felt.

“Who would be knocking on our door at 6 a.m.?” he asked accusingly, as if it was somehow my fault.

“Knocking? I think it would be more accurately described as banging—no pounding, or maybe beating…”

I grumbled as I padded off down the hall barefoot. To my surprise and embarrassment, since I was still in nothing but my boxers that I was sleeping in, I found Nikki on the other side of the door. She looked disgustingly chipper for that ungodly hour. She swept by waving something in her hand.

“Oh, good!” she said when she spied Aidan blinking in confusion at finding her in our apartment with no apparent emergency. “You’re up, too! Great! Come on out.”

“I wasn’t up until someone woke me out of a very nice dream,” he said acidly.

Nikki narrowed her eyes at me. “You woke Aidan up?”

I sighed and decided it was too early to even attempt to answer that. I tried to focus my sleep-clouded eyes 229

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on the object she was still waving around. It looked like a rolled newspaper or maybe a magazine. “I’m going to go put some clothes on,” I said.

“Take a look at this first,” she said, and then to Aidan.

“And while you’re up, you look too. The reviews are in!” She tossed the bundle onto the table with a flourish. The newspaper unrolled sending a magazine slid-ing off the table where it landed at my feet.

“We need a new paperboy,” Aidan said as he came over to the table.

I snatched the magazine up. It was the Mid-Atlantic Monthly Art Journal. The glossy cover featured an idyl-lic scene of a lighthouse.

“Turn to page forty-eight,” Nikki ordered me as she began flipping through the newspaper.

I did as she had said and scanned the text for my name. It jumped out at me from the second column under the heading New Talent. I began to read out loud.

“‘Promising New Artist Debuts in Maryland,’” I read.

“‘Avant Guard, the internationally renowned art gallery founded by Giovanni Avanti and now managed by his sole heirs, Derrick and Nikolia Avanti, recently played host to a delightful new artist by the name of Will Keegan.’ That’s me!”

“Duh! Keep reading,” Aidan said.

“‘Keegan, only 18 and still obviously in the early stages of his career, shows great promise for the art world. His watercolor paintings of old buildings are reminiscent of Andrew Wyeth, though without much of the soul and depth that is so evident in Wyeth’s work.’

I’m soulless?” I asked with a frown.

“It comes with age and experience. Keep reading,”

Nikki said.

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“‘It’s his more interpretive pieces, some bordering on surrealism, which truly capture the imagination, however. They show a complex and sometimes tortured inner being. Over all, the twenty paintings on display were an impressive first showing for a talented and charming young man.’ I’m charming?”

“Keep reading!” Nikki and Aidan said in unison.

“Jeez! ‘With his candid and unique views of the world around him, Keegan is a welcome addition to the art community. Look for great things to come from this artist’s brush.’”

“Is that it?” Aidan asked. I was beginning to think he wasn’t a morning person.

“It? That’s wonderful!” Nikki crowed. “They gave you a glowing review! And they mentioned the gallery.

We couldn’t have bought that kind of publicity.”

“They said I was soulless,” I whined.

“Who cares? It’s a critic; they have to say things like that. Look, your picture is in the paper.”

Aidan and I both bent over the table to see where her finger was pointing, bonking noggins in the process.

Rubbing our heads, we moved in more carefully a second time. Sure enough, there I was, in all my flashy leather glory with Caitlin hanging on my arm looking for all the world like a Hollywood starlet. Aidan looked at it for a moment then walked away and turned on the TV. I decided not to let his attitude ruin this moment for me. I read the short article that accompanied the photo but it didn’t really say anything; it was just a blurb in the Lifestyle section, but it was still exciting. I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that Aidan wasn’t sharing this moment with me.

“Well, I’d better get back to the apartment,” Nikki 231

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said. “I left Sam asleep in bed. I don’t want him to wake up and find me missing. Will, take the day off and celebrate the good reviews.” I got the impression that she was picking up on Aidan’s strange behavior and was tactfully giving us a chance to talk. She waggled her fingers in our direction and let herself out.

“Sure, she let him sleep,” Aidan said as he pushed himself up off the sofa. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Aren’t you even the slightest bit happy for me?” I asked. I sounded peevish, even to myself, but I just didn’t understand his attitude.

He sighed. “Oh yeah, I’m thrilled for you and your fiancée.”

“My what? What are you talking about?”

“Your fiancée? Caitlin?” he said.

“Caitlin?”

“They spilled the beans in the caption there, lover boy,” he called as he disappeared down the hall.

“What caption?” I yelled, but his door had closed, cutting off any further attempt on my part to find out what was eating him.

I bent over the newspaper article again and found the caption under the photo of Caitlin and me. I had missed it earlier in my rush to read the article. “Keegan and fiancée, Caitlin Stewart, talk to Mr. & Mrs. Edward Curran, of Baltimore,” it read. It was so ridiculous I almost laughed out loud. Obviously, Aidan hadn’t found it so amusing. I hurried down the hall to his room and knocked. No answer, so I pushed it open. He was lying on the bed with his back toward me, on top off the blankets.

“Aidan, you don’t actually think Caitlin and I are getting married, do you?”

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“Why not?” he asked without moving. “You’re raising the baby, the other night you called yourself a first-time father, you’re always talking about Caitlin this and Caitlin that—why not get married? You’re so obsessed with this baby that I think you’d do whatever you had to do to make sure you’re a part of its life.”

I stared at him in slack-jawed amazement. Where was all this coming from? “I thought you supported me.”

“I tried, Will. I really did. It’s just—” He sounded like he was crying. Suddenly things fell into place.

“You’re jealous of Caitlin and the baby,” I said aloud as the realization jolted through my brain.

“Of course I’m jealous, you idiot!” he yelled as he rolled over to face me. “I’m in love with you! Can’t you see that?”

“I—you’re, wha—?”

“I told you that, the night we made love. I told you I loved you. That wasn’t just pillow talk. I meant it.” He stood up and walked to the window. “I’ve done everything I can think of, tried every way I could think of to show you that I loved you. I’ve been there for you every time you’ve needed me—when you needed someone to talk to or a shoulder to cry on because Joey had hurt you in some way. I was there when Joey died. I was there when you decided to go ahead with this crazy idea to raise Joey’s baby. I was there when you came up with this even crazier idea to catch Joey’s killer. I’m always there. And what have I accomplished? Nothing.

I’m still just good ol’ buddy, Aidan.”

He stopped and took a shaky breath and turned to face me. I was speechless. “And you know what?” he went on after a moment. “I’d do it all again; I’d have my heart broken again, because I love you. But just 233

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once—just once, I’d like—no, I need—I need to know it matters. That I’m not just pissing in the wind here.”

He collapsed onto the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. I walked over to him and knelt down in front of him. I reached up and gently took his hands in mine.

“It does matter,” I said softly. “Aidan, I’m so, so very sorry. I don’t know what I would do without you. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you. I—I’ve taken you for granted and I’m sorry. You always seem so strong. You’re always the rock I lean on, and sometimes cling to, and it just never even occurred to me that maybe you needed someone to lean on, too. I owe you so much; I owe you my life. You’re my best friend.”

“But you don’t love me.” It was a statement, not a question, but I answered it anyway.

“I—I don’t know…”

Aidan pulled his hands from mine. “Then that says everything, doesn’t it?”

“Aidan…”

“Save it, Will,” he said without anger, just resignation. “I’ll be okay. I always am.” He walked out of the room and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. It wasn’t long before I heard the shower come on.

I sat down wearily on the edge of the bed, where Aidan had been moments before. I had taken Aidan for granted; that was very clear now. I was so busy chasing after Joey, and then memories of Joey, that I had never taken the time to see what was happening right under my nose. How many times had I thoughtlessly slipped a knife into Aidan’s heart and not even noticed? I didn’t even want to think about it; too many by far.

And now—was it too late? I still wasn’t sure how I 234

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felt about him, but I knew I had grown to love him very deeply. I had just taken it for granted that he’d be there when I got home. I’d taken it for granted that he’d be there when I needed a pair of strong arms to comfort and hold me while I cried. I’d taken it for granted that he’d always be there to support and encourage me with no support and encouragement from me. I’d taken so much for granted. Had I lost him now because of my neglect? The very thought filled me with such a sense of loss and grief that it felt as if my heart would disinte-grate.

I was still sitting on the bed when Aidan came back in, water dripping from his hair and a towel gripped around his waist. He seemed surprised to find me still in his room.

I looked up at him and suddenly felt the tears that had been threatening to spill over and roll down my cheeks. “I do love you,” I whispered.

Aidan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then opened them again. The pain in his eyes was so raw, so naked, that it almost took my breath away.

“Not again, Will,” he plead hoarsely. “Don’t do this to me again.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t make me open up my heart like this, only to have it slammed in my face. I can’t keep doing this.”

“I won’t. I—I love you.”

Tears streamed down his face and he didn’t even bother to wipe them. “No, it’ll always be something: Joey, Caitlin, the baby. They’ll always come first.”

“No!” I cried, desperate to make him understand what I suddenly knew with all my heart. “Listen to me.

Maybe I’ll always love Joey, some part of me. And yes, 235

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I have made a commitment to Caitlin and this baby, but now I want to make a commitment to you.”

“And what if Joey walked through the door right now and said he loved you?” Anguish filled his voice, making it sound foreign, as if it didn’t really belong to him.

“Joey’s dead,” I sobbed.

“WHAT IF?” he screamed. Then he began to sob too.