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“Cabaret.”
Yeah, Cory would definitely have approved.
Everyone stood as the pallbearers carried the casket solemnly to the trestle, then laid it there with reverent care. Gary’s chest grew tight.
He shouldn’t be in there.
Dan took his hand. “We’ll catch him, okay? So Cory—and everyone who knew him—can be at peace.”
Gary squeezed his hand. “Yes.”
He half listened as the celebrant spoke of Cory, and although he shared amusing anecdotes, none of them captured the real Cory, the boy in Gary’s head, the young man he’d loved. He focused on the polished casket, remembering their times together, the laughter, the tears…. And when the celebrant asked for a moment’s silence so everyone could reflect on Cory’s part in their own lives, Gary bade a silent goodbye to his first love.
When the service was finally over, all the mourners made their way out into the bright sunshine to the strains of Eva Cassidy’s emotional rendition of “Somewhere over The Rainbow.” Gary had to admit, the music choices had been inspired. Outside, people gathered in groups, filling the paths that led to the chapel and talking in low voices. Nina, David, and her parents stood by a long black car. She beckoned to him.
“Come with us. There’s room.”
Before Gary could respond, Dan cleared his throat. “Listen, you go with them. I’ll go back to the hotel.”
Nina frowned. “That invitation was for you too, Mr. Porter. Any friend of Gary’s….” She bit her lip, and her eyes met Gary’s.
Oh God.She saw us holding hands.He couldn’t be certain of that, but it was a possibility. And judging by Nina’s expression, she wasn’t in the least bit surprised.
Fuck it.
He took Dan’s hand in his, then smiled. “We’d love to.”
In high school, I chose a different path, but Dan has brought me back to the life I could have had if Cory had loved me the way I loved him.
Gary wasn’t going to waste a single day of his new life.
Chapter 29
I STOOD ATthe back of the chapel with two coworkers, three people in a sea of mourners. I wasn’t surprised by the number of gay men who’d turned up to bid Cory Peterson farewell.
He probably fucked at least half of them.
When the suggestion was made at work to attend the funeral, I’d agreed immediately. After all, I’d missed the first five. It was time I saw the results of my handiwork. As I walked into the chapel, I’d received nods from so many familiar faces. No one was surprised to see me there.
Why would they be? They knew me.
Some of them were already on my Potentials list.
But then another familiar face appeared, and suddenly I was cold.
What’s Dan Porter doing here?
I watched as he and another man walked toward the altar, my blood like ice. Less than forty-eight hours after my last victim met his maker, and he justhappenedto turn up at Peterson’s funeral? I took a closer look at the guy with him. There was something familiar about him too. Then it came to me where I’d seen his face before. In the newspapers, alongside Mr. Psychic.
He’s one of the detectives looking for me.
I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t think straight.
Do they know I’m here?
Can Porter sense me somehow?
