of course,” he said, pausing then to take a breath, “well, we were there. We saw the killer die back then.” He looked over at Davey and smiled tightly, still curious about how Davey had sensed so much of what had gone on. “We were all there. We saw him die. Davey was a hero.”
“My dad. My dad was with me,” Davey said.
“In all he taught you, and all you learned so well!” Renee said, looking at her son, her soft tone filled with pain for the husband she’d lost.
“The police may already have something,” Tyler said. “When a murder like this occurs, they hold back details from the press. You wouldn’t believe the number of crazy people who will call in and confess to something they didn’t do, wanting what they see as the credit for such a heinous crime. I have friends in Boston who have friends in New York. Maybe I can help—all depends on whether they want to let me in or not.”
“Sarah has friends, too!” Davey said.
Sarah looked at him. “I do?”
“Kieran!”
“I haven’t talked to her in a while,” Sarah murmured.
“Who is Kieran?” Tyler asked.
“A friend, yes,” Sarah said, looking at him. “She and her brothers inherited a very old Irish pub on Broadway—downtown, near Trinity and St. Paul’s. The oldest brother manages, Kieran works there sometimes.”
“You worked there!” Davey said.
“I did—I worked there through college,” Sarah said. “Anyway, Kieran is a psychologist who works with two psychiatrists, Drs. Fuller and Miro. They often work with the police—they’re geniuses when it comes to the criminal psyche. And her boyfriend is a special agent with the FBI. So, yes, if I asked for help...”
“That’s excellent,” Tyler told her. “And it could really help, as far as finding out whatever information there is forthcoming. Other than that... I’m not law enforcement.”
“But people hire PIs all the time,” Renee said.
“When someone is missing, the family might hire someone. In murder investigations that go cold...”
“We can hire you!” Davey said happily.
“We’re not her family,” Sarah said.
“That doesn’t matter. We were her friends,” Davey said. He was quiet a minute and made one of his little frowns. “She was mean to me sometimes, but she was my friend, too. Mostly she was nice to me.”
They all fell silent.
“I’ll figure something out, and I’ll keep you posted. I do have a legal standing as a private investigator, but it’s a lot nicer if the police want me involved.”
Sarah nodded. Again, they were all quiet.
“So, what’s happening in your life, Tyler?” Renee asked. “It’s so very long since we saw you. Davey has missed you.”
“I know what Tyler has been doing! I follow his page,” Davey said. “He dated a model! Pretty girl, Tyler. I think, though, Sarah is prettier. But I saw the pictures of you.”
“She’s very nice,” Tyler said. “She’s—in Romania now. Shooting a catalog, or something like that.”
“You must miss her,” Davey said.
“We were casual friends.”
“BFFs. That’s friends with benefits,” Davey told his mother, certain she wouldn’t know.
“Davey!” Renee said. “Please, Tyler came as a favor. Let his private life be private.”
Davey had lowered his head. He was chewing on a thumbnail, something he did, if Tyler recalled rightly, when he was nervous—or hiding something.
“You’ve got to be able to help somehow,” Sarah said, as if she hadn’t heard any of their exchange. “I’m so frustrated. I feel so worthless. And I feel terrible that I didn’t keep up with her. I mean...we were friends once. I don’t know what that night did to her. We all dealt with it differently. But...” She paused, inhaling a deep breath. “Sean suggested there was something—”
She broke off again. He knew what she was going to say. In the confusion with police and parents—and the horror that seemed almost worse when it was over and the garish lights were on—both Sean and Hannah had suggested there was something weird about Davey.
That it was downright scary, the way he had known something was really wrong.
“We talked. Davey told me. I think the police understood, but others didn’t. My uncle taught Davey to watch people—to have excellent situational awareness, like an operative or a cop. Because people can be so cruel and mean. My uncle wanted Davey to be able to protect himself from that. Davey knew when kids wanted to—to make fun of him. He was good at avoiding such people. He was amazing at looking out for bullies. He saw that man...Archibald Lemming. He’d noticed him earlier. And he’d seen him go into that particular haunted house, and that was how he knew. But...”
“I told them,” Davey said, nodding grimly. He brightened. “But they lived!”
“You were a hero,” Sarah assured him.
Davey’s smile faded and he looked grim. “But now Hannah is dead. And I’m afraid.”
“You don’t need to be afraid, Davey,” Sarah assured him quickly. “You’ll never be without one of us.”
“Or my girlfriend!” he said brightly. “Megan,” he reminded Tyler.
“Trust me, young man. Megan’s mom and I will make sure you two aren’t in any danger. Someone will be with you,” Renee said.
“Can we still kiss and all?” Davey asked.
“We’ll look away,” Renee promised. She shook her head. “We’re trying to keep it real—they have ten-year-old minds in grown-up bodies.”
Davey giggled. Then again he looked grim. “It’s scary. Sarah has to be with somebody, too.”
Sarah smiled and reached over and patted his hand. “Davey, I won’t be out late at night. I won’t be anywhere without friends.”
“You live alone.”
“You could come stay here,” Renee said.
“Aunt Renee,” Sarah said, “I need to be near the universities. And here’s the thing. We know Archibald Lemming is dead. What happened to Hannah is tragic, and one of those horrible events in life that happen to mirror another. I’ll be careful. But I’m always careful. I grew up as a New Yorker, remember? I’ve been savvy and wary a long, long time. Besides...” She paused and looked over at Tyler. “This must be...random. The act of some horrible, twisted thing that parades as a human being. Tyler...Tyler went to war. He knows very bad things happen.”
“We followed you when you were deeped,” Davey
