I am here, and I will find out what I can to help see that this man who killed Hannah meets a justice of his own, I promise,” Tyler said.
He rose. He did need to get checked into his hotel room. And he needed to find out if the people he knew had been able to pull any strings for him.
“You have my number?” Sarah asked him.
He smiled at her curiously. Of course he did. They had been texting.
“Same number, right?”
She shook her head. “Well, it’s the same as about five years ago?”
Tyler frowned. “But...you have my number?”
“Has it changed?”
“Never. It’s the same one I’ve been texting you on.”
“I—I didn’t get a text. Davey told me you were coming.”
Davey was up on his feet and running out of the room.
“Get back here!” Sarah commanded.
Davey hadn’t quite made the door. He stopped and turned around.
He looked at Sarah.
“He needed to come. Tyler needed to come. I...”
“You pretended to be me,” Sarah said. “Davey! You must never do things like that!” she added with dismay.
“Davey, I should cut your texting time with Megan!” Renee said firmly.
Davey sat down, crossing his arms over his chest, his lips set stubbornly. “Tyler is here. He needed to be here.” Then he threw his arms out dramatically. “Do what you will!”
“Just don’t do it again! Ever!” Sarah said, horrified.
She looked at Tyler. “I’m so sorry. I never would have twisted your arm, made you come here. I mean, it was on national news, you’d hear about it, but...”
“I need to be here,” Tyler said softly. “Davey is right. I’ve got some things to do. I’ll be back with you later. We may need help from your friend.”
“Kieran,” she said. “Kieran Finnegan. And she’s living with a man named Craig Frasier. He’s—he’s great. I don’t know if the FBI will be investigating this, but...”
“We’ll talk to him.”
He wanted to hold her. To pull her to him. But she was already trying to back away. She hadn’t done it—hadn’t contacted him. Davey had. And Tyler needed to remember that.
“I’ll be in touch later tonight,” he said.
He didn’t hug her goodbye. But as he went to the door, Davey raced to him. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, buddy, it’s okay. You’re right. I need to be here. The police might already have a lead on this madman, okay? But I’ll be here.”
He nodded to Renee and Sarah, then headed out of the house. He imagined Sarah might follow him, tell him that the years had been wasted for her, too, that she knew, just seeing him again, that...
Didn’t happen.
He drove into the city and checked himself—and his car, which was as expensive to park as booking another room!—into his hotel. He had barely reached his suite before his phone rang.
And this time, it was actually Sarah.
“Tyler,” she said excitedly. “We’re in!”
“What?”
“This makes me feel worse than ever, but...I just got a call from a lawyer. Tyler, Hannah left a will. She has me listed as next of kin. She didn’t have much money—barely enough for her funeral,” Sarah said softly. “But that means that I can hire you, that it can all be legitimate, right?”
“I can work the case—even work it as if you’ve hired me. That’s not the point. I have to form some relationships, step carefully, keep in with the police. We need everyone working together.”
“But I am next of kin. You will stay, you will—”
“I will stay,” he promised her softly.
And a moment later, he heard her whisper, “Thank you. Thank you!”
And then...
“Tyler?”
“Yes?”
“I am so sorry. I don’t know why...I lost everyone. I should have been her friend. I really should have been her friend.”
He didn’t know what to say.
“Time doesn’t change things like that. You were her friend. And...you’re still my friend, Sarah. I still love you. I will see this through, I promise.”
And he hung up before she could say anything else.
“Survivor’s guilt,” Kieran Finnegan said softly.
Kieran was a good friend. While the hectic pace of her life—she worked as a psychologist for a pair of psychiatrists who worked frequently with the police, FBI and other law enforcement agencies, and helped out at the family pub—often kept her in a whirlwind where she didn’t see much of her friends, she was the kind of person who was always there when she was needed.
Sarah had called her that morning.
It was Sunday noon. Hannah’s body had been discovered the morning before; last night, Tyler had come to Aunt Renee’s house.
And while Finnegan’s on Broadway was doing a sound weekend business—they had a traditional roast entrée every Sunday that was very popular—Kieran was sitting down with Sarah. Of course, Finnegan’s was in good shape that day as far as staff went, and since Sarah had once worked there, she could probably hop back in to help at any time herself, just as Kieran would do if the need arose.
Kieran had assured Sarah she would be there to spend some time with her, talk to her. As a very good friend would do.
That made Sarah feel all the worse about the lousy friend she had been herself.
“Survivor’s guilt?” she repeated, shaking her head. “Honestly, I don’t think so. I mean, what happened years ago...all of us survived. We survived because of Davey, though, honestly...some of the guff he had to take afterward! People wanted to know what kind of a medium or seer he was. ‘Down Syndrome Boy Sees Evil.’” She was quiet for a minute. “Well, I have to admit, I was young and easily irritated, and Hannah...” She bit her lip and shrugged. “I was annoyed. She liked to have Davey around for the publicity, but then wanted me to leave him home if we were going out for
