A Reason to Believe (8 page)

worst. Because it’s almost always their parents

who come for the readings, and I can never give

them what they want.” Matt arched his brows in

question. Kiernan sighed. “Their kids back. It’s the

one thing I can’t do.”

“I feel that way, too. We can’t ever give them

back. We can only try to figure out what

happened.” They exchanged a long look, one filled

with weary commiseration. “You said this

afternoon you’d picked up on something, on this

latest case…”

“Yeah.” He paused. “There wasn’t a lot, but I

can tell you what I did get.” His face was candid

and eager. “If it would help.”

Matt leaned forward. “I’d appreciate it.”

Kiernan set his drink aside and leaned forward

as well, his hands linked between his knees.

“She’s really young, maybe six or seven? Blonde,

blue-eyed, very cute. And frankly, a bit confused.

It isn’t uncommon with kids under ten. They don’t

understand the difference between being alive and

being dead. One minute they’re in one place, and

then they’re in another. Like, they’d fallen asleep

in the living room and woke up in their bed. She

has some memories of what happened to her, but

she doesn’t want to think about it. To her, it seems

more like a bad dream than an actual event.”

Matt was fascinated in spite of himself. “I just

wondered, with everyone in the house, why she…”

He hesitated, unsure how to proceed.

“Why she chose you? Because she liked the way

you looked,” he said, his lips quirking. “She

thought you had ‘nice eyes.’ And you could hear

her, she could tell.”

“I’ve never been able to see or hear…well,

anyone before who was…I mean…you know what

I mean?” This last bit was said in a rush, and his

frustration with his inability to express himself

seemed to amuse Aidan Fitzpatrick immensely.

“You mean someone dead?” she asked, her eyes

bright with mischief.

“Behave,” Kiernan scolded, and she grinned. He

turned back to Matt. “I know it was startling. Most

people go their entire lives never seeing someone

in spirit. It challenges something very fundamental

in the belief system. And it certainly wasn’t

something we were taught in catechism.” This was

said with a healthy dose of wry sarcasm.

“You know, I wondered.” Matt made an

abbreviated sign of the cross over his chest.

“Ah. Catholic?” Kiernan asked.

“Enough of one to recognize ease with a gesture

when I see it. Somehow, I didn’t think what you do

and

Catholicism

would

necessarily

be

compatible.”

Kiernan laughed merrily. “Just because my

church doesn’t want anything to do with me

doesn’t mean I’m done with God. I need Him on

my side. Some of what I occasionally pick up on is

definitely playing for the other team.”

Matt’s brows shot up. “Meaning?”

“Not all haunts are happy haunts. I choose to

believe that if God made it so I can see these

spirits, then He’s got my back if they turn nasty.”

His irrepressible grin widened. “And honestly? I

think my church has less trouble with the whole

seeing-dead-people thing than it does with the gay

thing.”

Matt was startled, remembering he’d said

something very similar to Sheila just the day

before.

“Kiernan.” Aidan gave Matt a meaningful

glance. “Perhaps that was more information than

the detective needed.”

“Detective Bennett doesn’t have an issue with

my sexual orientation, Aidan,” he said, his voice

casual but his eyes lively.

She leaned back and looked at him sharply, then

over at Matt even as Kiernan continued to study

him. Matt felt a creeping discomfort, but he saw

recognition and amusement in Kiernan’s vivid

eyes.

“Oh,” she murmured. “Well.” She stood. “On

that note, I believe I’ll leave you two gentlemen to

your discussion.” She didn’t look annoyed, but

there was something suddenly guarded in her voice

and expression.

Matt straightened. “I’m sorry. If I should go…”

She shook her head. “That won’t be necessary.”

She turned to her brother. “When the food gets

here, please eat.”

He smiled faintly. “Yes, Mum.”

She sighed, but as she passed, she touched his

shoulder fondly. “Good night, Detective,” she said

softly, then left the room, closing the door behind

her. The silence in her wake felt heavy.

“I’m not altogether sure what just happened. Did

I just…” Matt paused, unsure how to continue.

“Get outed?” Kiernan offered with a grin. “Only

to my sister.”

Heat climbed his neck and filled his face. “Was

I…”

Kiernan took pity on him. “No. You aren’t

obvious at all.” His cheek dimpled. “But it’s rare

when a straight man checks out my package.” Matt

was mortified, but Kiernan laughed. “Relax,

Detective,” he said. “I was the only one who

noticed, and I was flattered. You’re hot.”

Matt stared, not sure how to respond, grateful

when a soft knock sounded on the suite door.

Kiernan bounced up and Matt exhaled, relieved to

be out from under the knowing gaze.

“Over here.” Kiernan came back, gesturing

between the two sofas. A young man wheeled the

linen-covered table into place, and Kiernan passed

him a twenty-dollar bill. The waiter smiled,

pocketing the money as he left.

“Nice tip.” Matt leaned back, a firm grip

reestablished on his composure.

“I figure anyone having to deliver a BLT at

nearly midnight has earned it.”

Kiernan leaned forward and lifted the cover off

of a plate, and the fragrance of bacon filled the

room. He glanced at the sandwich and fries but

immediately zeroed in on a small dish with its own

cover. He lifted the lid and sighed in obvious

pleasure. The dish contained chocolate ice cream

with what looked like large chunks of dark

chocolate in it.

Kiernan noticed Matt watching.

“Dreyer’s Thin Mint,” he provided, dipping a

spoon in and bringing a taste to his mouth. His eyes

rolled closed in appreciation. It was as close to an

expression of sexual pleasure as Matt had ever

seen while someone was eating. It made him feel

voyeuristic, and faintly aroused.

“Weren’t you supposed to eat your dinner first?”

he asked casually, trying to ignore his body’s

response.

Kiernan shot him a wry look. “The role of

Kiernan Fitzpatrick’s keeper has already been

filled by his sister.”

His teasing eased some of Matt’s tension, and he

smiled. Once Kiernan finished the ice cream and

had done everything but lick the bowl, Matt

couldn’t resist commenting. “You sure do love ice

cream.”

“More than you’ll ever know.” Kiernan wiped

his mouth with a napkin. “This one in particular.

When I was a kid, Aidan used to buy two cases of

the Girl Scout cookies every year and put them in

the freezer, then smash them up and put them in my

ice cream. But this is so much better.”

“Has she always indulged you?” Matt teased.

Kiernan shifted, looking self-conscious. “There

were certainly people who thought so.” Picking up

a French fry, he glanced at Matt. “Scarfing ice

cream was pretty rude of me. I hope you don’t

mind.”

“Not at all.”

Kiernan popped the fry in his mouth. “There’s

more than enough here for two, if you’re hungry.

I’ll never eat all of this.”

“I ate earlier.”

“Suit yourself.” Kiernan picked up his sandwich

without a trace of lingering self-consciousness. He

polished off half and a few fries before he wiped

his mouth with his napkin, sighing in satisfaction as

he leaned back into the sofa.

“Better?” Matt asked.

“Much. It’s the first thing I’ve eaten since

breakfast.”

“Makes for a long day.”

“Yeah.”

They sat looking at each other, and then Kiernan

sat forward. “Okay, back to your little friend,” he

said, suddenly all business. “Without a formal

reading I can only give you my impressions, but

they’re usually fairly accurate. She wasn’t a

forceful presence this morning, but she stood out to

me. Her aura was bright…”

“Her aura.”

Kiernan smiled, his eyes crinkling at the

corners. “All of us have auras, Matt. Most people

just don’t see them.”

“But you do?”

He inclined his head. “It’s all part of the deal.”

Matt narrowed his eyes. “O…kay,” he managed

at length.

Kiernan chuckled. “It looked like there was a

light shining all around her. Usually it indicates

strong emotion. I was surprised to see it with an

entity so young. She didn’t want to step forward,

and she remained in the background. I think there

were too many others there at the mass reading,

and she was intimidated. But even as others were

talking, I could sense her. Watching. Waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“I don’t know. I just know she feels attached to

you, and she has something to say she thinks is

important.”

“How do we find out what it is? If she isn’t

comfortable talking…”

“I didn’t say she isn’t comfortable talking,”

Kiernan interrupted with a laugh. “She’s the one

who told me you’re a cop. She followed me

backstage immediately after the group reading.

And clearly she was comfortable showing herself

to you. I think today wasn’t the ideal situation for

her. It’s often that way with kids. They might turn

up in a mass reading, but unless they are a

confident character, they’re not likely to interrupt

adults.”

Matt sighed. “But you said you think she has

something important to say. Why didn’t she tell you

what it was backstage?”

“No idea. She obviously wanted me to notice

her. She was very persistent. She kept moving into

my line of sight, even when I was talking to

someone else. She hovered, at the periphery, for

the entire three hours.” He paused. “You know,

ordinarily the spirits of children, if they’re

grounded, are more communicative in an

environment where they’re most comfortable.”

“Grounded,” Matt said. “I’ve no idea what that

means.”

Kiernan leaned his elbows on his knees. “When

we die, there are usually two options available to

us, because believe it or not, it is about choice. We

either cross over, as in the whole go-into-the-light

thing, or we choose not to.”

“Unfinished business.” Matt tried to keep the

skepticism out of his voice. Kiernan smirked,

making him think he hadn’t done very well.

“It’s one way of describing it, yes. There’s

usually a reason.”

“Okay, so assuming Abby Reynolds chose to

remain behind, and she’s ‘grounded,’ which

frankly sounds like something my mother did to me

when I was in trouble, does it mean she’s

grounded…to me?” As much as he tried for it not

to, the fact he was unnerved by the thought must

have come through in his voice.

Kiernan laughed.

“You know,” Matt said, “I don’t find the idea

particularly amusing.”

“I’m sorry.” Kiernan’s laugh evolved into a

grin. “It’s just—you should see the look on your

face. She’s a little kid, Matt. How scary can she

be?”

“She’s dead. That makes the whole thing pretty

damned scary. Not everyone talks to dead people

for a living.”

“Point.” Kiernan’s smile remained in place.

“And in answer to your question, no, I do not

believe she is grounded to you.”

“What makes you think so? I mean, I saw her.

And then last night, I heard her in my bedroom.”

“Because,” Kiernan said softly, “she isn’t here

now.”

“You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure. If she were here, I’d see her.”

Matt felt foolish even as a wave of relief

washed over him.

“I think what’s going on, with her turning up at

your home, is she wants to make sure you don’t

forget about her.”

An unwelcome vision of the child’s blue face,

the tape around her head, flashed through Matt’s