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“That’s right. I held up my end of the bargain. My cover story is you’re getting special dispensation because you’re a federal agent on sick leave after being injured in the line of duty. How’s it going to look to those reporters out there if they catch you sneaking out of here?”

Archie felt himself lose color. “What reporters?”

“Oh, not so many, I guess,” Beau said vaguely. “There’s the reporter for the Twinkleton Gazette. And the crime beat reporter for The Register-Guard. And then a couple of crews from KDRV NewsWatch 12, KTVL News 10, and KVAL CBS 13. I mean, I say crews, but it’s just a couple of guys in news vans with cameras.”

Archie absorbed that in quiet horror, then scowled. “Bullshit.” Beau wouldn’t be so blasé about the news media breathing down his neck.

He wasn’t sure, though.

“True,” Beau conceded. “But only because nobody’s found you yet. In case you hadn’t noticed, Fraser House Inn is officially closed, as of yesterday, while they do renovations.”

As a matter of fact, Archie had not noticed that. Nor had anyone informed him of such a thing.

“You’re here, safe and snug, as a special favor to me. But if you start getting ideas about running your own investigation, a little bird might drop a word in someone’s ear.”

Archie sat back in his chair, sputtered, “Really? Coercion? That’s nice.”

Beau shook his head. “Coercion. You Feds sure love your codes and classifications. Here I am giving you an incentive to take a few days to rest up. Like I’m sure your boss imagines you’re doing.”

Archie’s lips parted. But really, he had no answer to that one.

Beau added, and now there was no hint of humor, “If you are grateful for getting a look at that file, then do not further complicate my life. Stay out of trouble. Rest. Relax. Read the file. Read it front to back. You have insight into John no one else does.”

Did he? Maybe. Maybe he knew more, remembered more than he realized.

“I plan on it.”

Beau nodded, turned away.

Archie said, “Hey. What about McCabe House? Can I move back in this evening?”

Beau hesitated. “I’ll let you know for sure when I check in with you later.”

Archie nodded.

Beau went out and quietly closed the door behind him.

Archie stared after him thoughtfully.

That had almost been… Well, not friendly, exactly. Cautiously cordial? He wondered again what Beau had wanted to tell him the night before. And if he could take hearing it.

He’d always assumed Beau knew exactly what he wanted. He’d always assumed he’d had no power to change the way things ended between them. For the first time he wondered if Beau had regrets. For the first time he wondered what would have happened, what Beau would have said, if he’d picked up the phone those two times Beau had called. Had he really believed Beau was just going to tell him all the same things again?

Or had he simply been too afraid to find out that there was still a chance?

Chapter Thirteen

Archie had no specific memory of the first time he’d seen Beau Langham.

Starting high school, even in a new town, had been nothing compared to what he’d already been through that terrible summer. He’d been utterly indifferent to everything except getting through the next few years as quickly as possible so that he could regain control of his life.

Perhaps somewhere in the very back of his mind had been the nebulous idea that once he was free of John’s guardianship, he could somehow return to a semblance of his old life, but that had simply been a grief-stricken kid’s wishful thinking, a yearning for what was lost forever.

The beauty of not giving a shit was his imperviousness to the usual high school jockeying for social status. Not only did he have zero interest in infiltrating the cliques of “populars,” “jocks,” “floaters,” and “good-ats,” he had no idea who those people even were. Ironically, the teenagers surrounding him mistook his emotional detachment for a kind of ultimate poise, which gave him a certain new guy cachet.

Anyway, it turned out that he shared a few classes with Beau Langham. Since they both favored the back row of every classroom, they frequently sat near each other. Even as a freshman, Beau had been a big man on campus. Maybe it came from being the son of the police chief, maybe it came from his already notable athletic prowess. Whatever it was, Beau had an enviable confidence. He had not been the class clown, by any stretch, or a smartass, really, but he didn’t hesitate to voice his opinions out loud—or make little jokes under his breath.

He was actually pretty funny, and occasionally Archie laughed, very quietly. Eventually, it dawned on him that those little jokes were for his benefit, that Beau was directing his commentary to him. Once in a great while, Archie would make a joke, too, and Beau always laughed. If Archie glanced over at him, Beau would smile right into his eyes.