Page 17 of Line of Sight

A little boy of about four years old dashed into the hallway, accompanied by a little girl who seemed younger. “Daddy.” The boy tugged on the hem of Greg’s tee. “Making Christmas cards. Remember?”

Greg ruffled the boy’s hair. “In a minute, okay? Mommy’s going to help you get started, and I’ll be there soon.”

The boy pouted, then grabbed his sister’s hand and dragged her back the way they’d come.

Greg chuckled. “Kids. Nothing so important as Christmas, right?” He pointed to a door off to the left. “Let’s talk in here.” He led them into what was obviously his office and closed the door behind them. He gestured to the couch against the wall, standing next to a liquor cabinet.

They sat, and Gary got out his notepad. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”

“When you called, your name didn’t register.” Greg frowned. “We’ve met, haven’t we? At the reunion.” His eyes widened. “Mitchell. Of course, you’re Brad’s brother.”

Gary smiled. “That’s right. I’m a detective with Boston PD, and we’re reopening his case. Well, a few cases, actually.” He put out his hand and they shook. “And this is Dan Porter. He was also at the ball, if you remember.”

Greg gave a nod. “Mr. Porter.” He sat behind the desk and opened a box of cigars. “You don’t mind if I smoke one of these, do you? This is the only room in the house where I get to indulge my habit. And it’s too cold to venture outside.”

“Please, don’t let us stop you.” Gary flashed him another smile. “We wouldn’t want to come between a man and his habit.” He watched as Greg clipped the end from a fat cigar and lit it.

Greg leaned back, took a few puffs, then gazed at them. “It’s been, what, twenty-three years since Brad died?”

“Since his murder, yes.” Gary raised his chin. “It was hardly a natural death.”

Greg coughed. “Quite.” He took another puff, then grimaced. “That was horrible. I remember that day. Brad was supposed to be at a birthday party, but he never showed up.”

“Whose party?” Gary opened his notepad.

“Jason Kelly.SenatorKelly now, of course.” Greg smiled. “He used to talk about running for office even back then. It wasalways his dream.” He froze. “Have you found new evidence or something? I mean, to reopen the case after all this time.”

Dan gave a polite smile. “That’s where I come in.”

Greg stared at him. “NowI know where I’ve seen you before. In the papers. You’re the psychic who helped catch that serial killer in the summer.”

Dan nodded.

“Then I hope you catch the bastard,” he said vehemently. “What they did to Brad was unbelievable. And I don’t think I can tell you anything new, if that’s why you’re here.”

Gary cleared his throat. “We’re not here to talk about Brad. One of the murders we’re reinvestigating is that of your stepbrother, Scott McCarthy.”

Greg gaped. “Oh wow. That’s awesome. Twenty-three years too late, but at least he hasn’t been forgotten. Too bad my stepfather isn’t around. He was never the same after that. Scott’s death devastated him. Well, all of us, really.”

Dan leaned forward. “What was Scott like?”

Greg smiled. “He was one of the good guys. He’d do anything for anybody. No one had a bad word to say about him, and certainly no reason to kill him.” He shivered. “The way the police said he died…. Who could do such a heinous thing?”

“You recall where you were the day Brad died,” Dan affirmed. “What about Scott? I guess that day must stick in the memory too.”

Greg nodded. “Yeah, it does. The night before his murder was one of the best nights of my life. A friend had gotten tickets for a group of us to be in the TV audience for a Led Zeppelin concert in NYC. That was the night they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.”

Dan’s eyes lit up. “That sounds amazing.”

“It was. I couldn’t believe it when we got the tickets.”

“Who went with you?” Gary paused as a memory surfaced. “Brad was there, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, Brad came with us. Then there was Jennifer Sullivan, Jason Kelly, Amy Walsh….”

“Who got you the tickets?” Dan interjected.

There was a slight hesitation before Greg replied. “You know, I don’t remember. I recall we caught the train to Penn Station, and we had two rooms in a hotel. I shared with the guys, and Jen and Amy shared. The next morning we caught the train back to Boston—and heard the news about Scott.” A sigh rolled out of him, heavy and long. “From the best of times to the worst in less than twenty-four hours.”