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Beau’s smile was a little bitter. “The whole town knew, remember? I told her it was a phase. I told myself it was a phase. I wanted it to be a phase. I tried to tell myself that what I felt was specific to you.”

Archie asked over the lump in his throat, “Did you love her?”

Beau met his eyes. “I loved her as much as I thought I’d be able to love anyone who wasn’t you.”

“What happened? Between you and Riley?”

Beau was still smiling that odd smile. “It turned out the phase I was going through was heterosexual.”

Archie stared at him. Beau said very quietly, “I never felt anything for anyone the way I felt about you. Not before. Not since. If there’s such a thing as true love, you were mine.”

Something about the way he said it, so plain and simple, closed Archie’s throat. He closed his eyes.

Beau nuzzled him, and when Archie opened his eyes, Beau brushed his fingertips across Archie’s cheekbones. “I knew I missed you, but I didn’t realize how much until I saw you that night at John’s.” His smile twisted. “You know that emptiness is there, but you fill it up with other things. You keep moving. You don’t look back. You tell yourself you don’t remember. But I did remember. All of it. Your laugh.” Beau kissed Archie’s eyelids, whispered, “The way your eyelashes go down when you don’t want people to know what you’re thinking.” He brushed Archie’s lips with his own, whispered, “Your mouth. Nobody tastes like you.”

Archie smiled beneath these attentions, but it was a sad smile. Yes. He knew that emptiness. He felt the same. How was it possible after seven years to remember so much? How was it possible that Beau was still so familiar to him?

Beau smiled at him, kissed him. It was a gentle smile and a gentler kiss.

Archie returned the kiss, also gentle because they could take nothing for granted now. That was the problem with being older and wiser.

He happened to glance over Beau’s shoulder and his gaze landed on the large wooden model of John’s yacht, El fantasma blanco, on the tall white bookshelves. His eyes widened.

John had taken him sailing a lot that first summer. Archie had never been sailing before, but he had taken to it right away. The sun and wind and water had soothed his spirit. The sound of the waves and the gulls, the creak of timbers and the wind singing in the sails. No need for conversation. Out there on the water, John and Archie had seemed to perfectly understand each other. In fact, some of Archie’s favorite memories of John were on the yacht.

He broke the kiss and said, “Did you search the yacht?”

“Huh?” Beau seemed to focus on him from a great distance.

“Did you conduct a search of El fantasma blanco? John’s yacht.”

“No. A search for what? There’s no connection between the yacht and John’s death that I’m aware of.”

“No. Right. I think tomorrow I’ll drive up to Winchester Bay. After the funeral.”

Beau frowned. “Why?”

Archie gave a funny laugh. “I think I just figured out where John stashed that letter.”

Archie slept late the next morning.

So late that he nearly missed John’s funeral.

Fortunately, perhaps, he was not required to do more than show up. Judith had not tapped him to be a pallbearer. He was not in physical shape to act as a pallbearer, but Judith hadn’t made her decision out of concern for his wellbeing. Nor had he been invited to read from Scripture nor speak at the service. Archie did not enjoy public speaking, so again, not the end of the world.

He was aware that he was being deliberately slighted. And he wouldn’t have been human if it hadn’t stung. But he had more important things to worry about than Judith’s opinion of him. He was there for John, not to impress the good citizens of Twinkleton.

Because he arrived as the church was filled nearly to capacity, it made sense to find a seat in a pew in the back. He did not recognize anyone around him, and they did not appear to recognize him, and that was fine with Archie. But Desi had apparently been watching for him and tried to wave him to the front where the family was seated. That was nice of her and more than made up for Judith. He almost laughed, imagining Judith’s face if he tried to squeeze in there between her and Desi, but of course he wasn’t going to do that. Not least because he didn’t have the energy for drama. He mimed an apologetic I’m Good Here. Desi rolled her eyes and mouthed, Get Up Here! Archie mimed No, really. Thanks.

Thankfully, the mime show ended as the organist hit a warning note. The congregation rose and the organist began “Be Thou My Vision.”

The pallbearers, who included Leo, Professor Azizi, Arlo, and three other men who looked vaguely familiar to Archie, carried the casket into the church in a formal procession, led by the elderly priest, Mother Angelica.

The casket was carried to the front of the church, lowered to the catafalque in front of the altar, and covered with the white pall symbolizing baptism and hope in resurrection.

The congregation was seated and Mother Angelica began the opening prayers.

Now that everyone was seated, Archie was able to pick several familiar faces from the sea of mourners. Mila Monig was sitting toward the front, but also had not been invited to join the family. He didn’t see Jon anywhere, but was that a surprise? Mrs. Simms sat two rows ahead of Archie, and she was crying soundlessly. Former Police Chief Alexander Langham and Mrs. Langham were toward the front. Scarlett appeared to be with them. Beau was nowhere to be seen, but Detective Swenson stood to the side, scanning the funeral-goers, and no doubt watching for revealing behaviors.