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“Yes,” Dan assured him. “Tell them you’ve brought me to meet them to see if I can help.” He cocked his head. “Will there be enough of his belongings there for me to use?”
Gary’s shudder was all the answer Dan needed.
“Then call your mom. We can’t turn up unexpectedly.”
It was about time he did something to fulfill the promise he’d made to Gary.
Please, let me find something.
Chapter Seventeen
GARY SWITCHEDoff 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.
