Reap The Whirlwind
Book 2 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries
By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026
Chapter 14
Aidan and I drove to the gallery in his truck, and Nikki drove her own car. We didn't talk much. I was too nervous and, after a few monosyllabic responses, Aidan gave up any effort on his part.
Dante had the gallery open when we got there, but, thankfully, no one else had arrived except the guitarist Nikki had hired to provide live music. The food was all laid out on the tables, and the bartender was hard at work polishing glasses.
Nikki had beat us there and immediately pulled me into her office for a pep talk.
"Okay, listen up. Everyone’s going to want to meet you. Smile, shake hands, be charming. But don’t let anyone trap you in a conversation for more than a few minutes — keep moving. And for the love of all things unholy, steer clear of the Glitter Guild."
"The what now?"
"You’ll know them when you see them. A flock of very determined widows in aggressively loud outfits, think sparkles, sequins, floral polyester, the works. They travel in a pack and will monopolize you for the entire night if given half a chance."
"Noted." I knew their type from church, so I felt confident I could handle them.
"If someone asks about your inspiration, flip it. Ask them what they think it means. Whatever they say, look deeply impressed and tell them they completely nailed it. If they ask how much it costs, point them to me. And remember: if you can’t bedazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit."
I nodded, although I strongly suspected I had just been baffled rather than bedazzled.
Nikki grabbed both my shoulders and looked me dead in the eyes. “Hey. You’re a good artist. This night is going to be great. People are going to feel something when they see your work. So breathe, soak it all in, and try to enjoy it, okay? You only get one first solo show.”
I almost teared up at her unusual display of sincerity.
Then she ruined it by smacking me on the rear. "Now, get out there and bedazzle these bitches!"
We emerged to find Aidan and Dante maintaining a careful, mutually disinterested silence. With an exasperated sigh, Nikki took charge, grabbing Aidan by the elbow and planting him by the front door with strict instructions to check invitations. Making it invite-only had been her idea. “It creates a sense of exclusivity,” she’d said, which I took to mean: it made people with deep pockets more likely to show up.
Seven o’clock came and went, and the gallery was still awkwardly, echoingly empty. I tried not to panic. Nikki, completely unfazed, leaned in and said, "This crowd likes to make an entrance. Trust me, they’ll show. Fashionably late is practically a religion."
Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, the trickle began. One by one, the guests drifted in like they were doing us a favor. And soon, the pattern became clear: they’d step inside, take a slow lap around the gallery, stop in front of each painting like they were judging a dog show, then make their way over to me with a carefully curated compliment and just the right amount of theatrical enthusiasm.
Before long, the gallery was swarming with well-dressed people sipping champagne and whispering to each other as if the paintings might get offended if they spoke too loud. I stood there smiling like a polite hostage, wondering if anyone could tell I felt like an imposter in my outgrown and borrowed clothes, silently praying I wouldn’t spill anything or accidentally say something that revealed I had no idea what I was doing.
I was very relieved when Killian and Asher arrived with a tall, handsome older man with reddish hair. It was nice to see familiar faces. They spotted me and made a beeline in my direction, foregoing the ritual circuit.
I excused myself from a lone member of the Glitter Guild who'd somehow become separated from her pack, leaving her vulnerable, and met them halfway. "I'm so glad you guys are here."
"Are you kidding? We wouldn't miss this!" Killian said, practically vibrating with excitement. "This is amazing! I've never been to something so swanky."
"Yeah, I feel like I should’ve rented a tux or something," Asher added, tugging at the collar of his button-down.
They both looked perfectly fine in their khakis and collared shirts — but I got it. I’d felt the same way not long ago.
“Everyone seems to have forgotten their manners,” said the redheaded man with a charming smile.
“Oops,” Killian said with zero remorse. “Will, this is my dad, Adam Connelly. Adam, this is Aidan’s roommate, Will. You guys are still just roommates, right?”
My face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yes!” I blurted, a little too defensively. Luckily, Aidan was safely across the room, being accosted by a middle-aged woman who looked like she wanted to climb him like a tree. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Connelly.”
I briefly wondered why Killian called his dad Adam and they had different last names, but I figured now wasn’t the time for a deep dive into family dynamics.
"Please, call me Adam,” he said warmly. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Congratulations on the show.”
"Thanks. And thanks for coming,” I said, hoping my face had stopped being an inferno.
"Come on. Let's go see the paintings," Killian said. "That's why we're here, right? Maybe we'll even buy one."
"You mean maybe I'll buy one," Adam said with a wink in my direction as he allowed Killian to drag him off. Asher followed, shaking his head but smiling.
Laura and Gabe arrived next, looking like they'd just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. Laura was stunning as always in a silver gown that shimmered just enough to catch the light without screaming for attention. Her hair was slicked back in that impossibly chic way that only works if you're a supermodel...or her.
Gabe, on the other hand, looked like a rockstar who'd gotten lost on the way to the Grammys. Fitted tux jacket, vintage band tee, black jeans, and those smug no-sock loafers. He pulled it off effortlessly. Basically, hee looked how I wish I looked.
It was great to see everyone, but I couldn't help wondering if Caitlin would make an appearance. As it got later and later, it seemed less and less likely that she would make an appearance. I was just about to give up on her when she seemed to materialize from thin air at my side.
"Jeez," I exclaimed. "Are you taking lessons from Dante?"
"Who's Dante?" she asked.
"Never mind."
She was dressed to kill in a sleek black dress that hugged her figure just right, paired with a black satin wrap and strappy heels. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a sophisticated chignon, and her gold jewelry was simple and elegant. Without a word, she slipped her hand into the crook of my arm and smiled as if she had been attending high society social functions all her life.
A camera flashed from somewhere, but by the time I whipped around to figure out where it came from, there was no sign of it. Before I could question it, though, someone grabbed my other arm and started raving about a painting I’d done of an old shack in Worcester County. Apparently, they were positive it was on their grandfather’s property on the Eastern Shore of Virginia. I told them how amazed I was that they could recognize it from my painting. For about two seconds, I felt guilty for flat-out lying... and then I remembered it’s art, not a crime scene.
The night dragged on, and by the time people started trickling out, my face was sore from all the fake grinning. I took a look around, only to realize that not one, not a single painting had sold. Great. Just great. As soon as I saw a window of opportunity, I yanked Nikki aside.
Before I could open my mouth, Nikki beat me to it. "Congratulations, Will! You were absolutely amazing," she gushed. "And what a show! Big success."
I blinked in confusion. "But...I didn't sell anything."
Nikki stared at me like I’d just asked her to explain quantum physics. "What do you mean?"
"Well, all the paintings are still here..." I trailed off, hoping for a miracle.
Nikki burst out laughing. "Of course they are. Didn’t I explain how this all works? They don’t take the paintings home tonight. They put their name down for the pieces they want, and we deliver them later once they’re paid for. We don't actually handle the sales in person at the party."
"Oh..." I said, feeling about as bright as a burnt-out light bulb. "So... did any of them sell?"
Nikki's expression shifted. "Oh, Will, I hate to disappoint you, but tonight was more about exposure than sales," she said with a concerned expression. "We only sold...all of them."
"Wh...what? All of them?" My brain short-circuited for a second.
"Every last one," she grinned, looking like she'd just won the lottery. "There was even a bidding war on a few of them. And the critics were impressed, too."
"Critics?" I squeaked, feeling my palms get clammy.
"I didn’t want to stress you out more," she admitted, "but yeah, we had critics from the local paper, D.C., Baltimore, and even one national website. They all know my father and respect the gallery. I can’t guarantee the reviews will be glowing, but you’ll find out soon enough. They won’t wait long, especially if they liked you. You know how critics are. They’ll all want to claim they spotted your genius first." She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by that predictable circus.
"Reviews?" I whispered, now feeling like I’d just stepped off one of those dizzying carnival rides where you’re not sure if you're going to puke or pass out.
"You're starting to sound like a parrot, Will," Nikki teased.
With a quick spin, she directed me toward the small group of people in the corner—Aidan, Adam, Killian, Asher, Laura, Gabe, and Caitlin. They were the last ones standing, aside from the bartender cleaning up and the guitarist packing his gear. Dante was nowhere to be seen.
"Now, be a good little bird and go tell your friends the good news," Nikki said, giving me yet another playful pat on the behind. I was getting more action from her than anyone.
I sighed and followed her instructions obediently, still trying to process the unexpectedly good news that had somehow totally blindsided me.
I stumbled over to the group, still kind of in a daze. When they saw me, they all rushed toward me at once, bombarding me with a chorus of excited chatter.
"We sold all the paintings," I blurted out, and, suddenly, everything went silent. After what felt like an eternity of stunned silence, they all exploded into cheers, high-fives, and enthusiastic back-thumping.
"You’re a star now, for sure!" Asher yelled, practically bouncing with excitement.
"You sure look the part," Killian added, giving me an approving once-over. "Are those pants painted on?" Asher elbowed him sharply in the ribs, and Killian gave him a mock-innocent look. "What? You're the one who said, and I quote, "Damn, who knew Will's been hiding a donk you could set a drink on.'"
My face blazed like the summer sun as Asher looked like he wanted to strangle Killian with his bare hands right there in the middle of the gallery.
"Yeah, Will," Caitlin chimed in, saving the day. "I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but you really do look amazing."
I shot her a nervous grin, supremely uncomfortable with all the compliments. "You’re the one who looks amazing. Guess that’s why you were so fashionably late, huh? Had to make an entrance."
"You all look great," Adam interrupted. "Not to break up this mutual admiration society, but we should probably get going. We still have to drive all the way back to Ocean City. Congrats again, Will. Oh, one more thing. What are your plans for Thanksgiving?"
"Oh, right. That's next week, isn't it?" The holiday had snuck up on me, mostly because every time I thought about it, a wave of dread hit me. I still wasn’t welcome at home, and it would be my first big holiday without my parents.
"Same time every year," Killian said.
"Yeah, um, I guess I don't have any plans," I admitted.
"Then why don't you come for dinner with Aidan," Adam said.
"I wouldn't want to impose—"
"I insist. I cook enough to feed a small army. You won't be an imposition at all."
"It's true," Aidan spoke up. "He really does cook enough for like a dozen more people than actually show up."
"We eat leftovers for like a week," Killian groaned.
"I've never heard you complain," Adam shot back. "Anyway, you'll come right?"
"Sure, I'll come," I agreed. I had a feeling Aidan had wrangled my invitation, but it was sweet of them either way. "Thank you for inviting me."
Just then, Adam seemed to realize we were still surrounded by my other friends.
"And what about the rest of you? Do you have holiday plans?"
Laura and Gabe both said they'd be spending it with their respective families, but I noticed Caitlin stayed very quiet.
"What about you?" I asked her. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"
"Oh you know...the usual."
"You don't have plans, do you?" I pressed.
She shrugged.
"Then you should come with Aidan and Will," Adam said, his tone leaving no room to argue.
I thought I saw Aidan's face fall for just a second, but he covered it quickly. "Yes," he said. "You should come with us."
If I hadn't seen his expression moments before, I wouldn't have questioned his sincerity.
"Yes. Please come," I added.
Caitlin laughed stiffly. "Okay, okay. Clearly, I'm outnumbered here. I accept your very generous invitation. Thank you for including another stray."
"Great! Then it's decided. I'll see you all next Thursday. Oh, and Will? You should know that at least one of your paintings is going to a good home, and you are more than welcome to come visit it anytime you want."
"You bought one?" I asked in surprise.
"Of course! I thought I'd better buy a Will Keegan original while I could still afford one."
I laughed at the absurdity of his claim. "I would have painted you one for free."
"But then I couldn't say that I bought one at your first show, could I?" he said with a wink.
"Which one did you get?"
"A gorgeous, moody portrait of a very introspective blue heron."
I lit up. "That was one of my favorites! I'm so glad you got it." My smile faltered a little as I realized that if all the paintings had sold, then the frog painting was gone, too. But I pushed the thought aside. Tonight was a win, and I wasn’t about to ruin it with sentimentality.
Killian and Asher had been whispering behind Adam for the last few minutes, but now Killian spoke up.
"Adam, can we stay with Aidan and Will tonight?"
Aidan looked surprised for a split second before his face broke into a wide grin.
"Did you even ask or did you just invite yourself to a sleepover like a couple of bratty ten-year-olds?" Adam asked, clearly already knowing the answer.
Aidan laughed. "It's fine. They're always welcome."
"Then sure, why not? But how are you getting home? I guess you expect me to come back and get you?"
"I'll drive them home," Aidan said quickly, and Killian shot him an appreciative smile.
With that decided, Adam said his good nights and headed out. As soon as he was gone, Laura suggested the rest of us go somewhere for a celebration. Nikki overheard and shooed us out before I could protest. We walked down the plaza to an ice cream parlor that kept late hours.
"So," Laura began once we were all crowded into a corner booth with our ice cream, "I don't think I know everyone here."
"I'm Killian, and this is my boyfriend, Asher," Killian spoke up. "I'm Aidan's cousin."
"I'm Laura, one of Will's oldest friends, and this is my boyfriend, Gabriel."
"Call me Gabe," Gabe said as he shook Killian's and Asher's hands.
"And this is Caitlin," I said to Laura.
Laura looked confused, not an expression one usually sees on Laura's face.
"And Caitlin is..." she said.
"I...knew Joey," Caitlin said, choosing her words carefully.
Laura looked even more confused. "You must not have known him long," she said bluntly. "I know I'm out of the loop here, but this is ridiculous, Will. Are you two dating?"
I laughed. "No, we're not dating," I said. "We're just friends. We met at a party and found out we have a lot in common."
Laura gave me a look that let me know that she knew there was more to this story and she expected to be filled in completely later. I nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Not to change the subject," I said to change the subject, "but since everyone is here that I wanted to talk to I might as well get it all over with at once. I have something I need to tell you all." That got everyone's attention. Everyone watched me now as they ate their ice cream. "Last week I got a package in the mail. Inside the package was Joey's necklace and a note that said 'It wasn't an accident.'"
Five spoons stopped in mid-air. Only Aidan kept eating since he knew the whole story already.
Laura was the first to break the silence. Her spoon hit the bowl with a sharp clatter as she leaned in, sudden and intense. For a split second, I genuinely thought she might haul me across the table by my collar, but instead, she pressed her hands flat against the table, locked eyes with me, and enunciated, with terrifying precision, "Hwhat?"
"Is this some kind of sick joke?" Caitlin asked, looking pale all of a sudden.
"Who sent it?" Gabe asked.
"What wasn't an accident?" Killian looked lost.
Asher didn't say anything. He just looked like he knew what was coming and didn't like it one bit.
"I don't know who sent it. There was no return address," I replied. "I even went by the shipping center it came from, but it was sent using Joey's name. I think whoever sent me the note was trying to tell me that Joey's death wasn't an accident."
"You mean he was murdered," Laura said in a tight voice.
"Did you go to the police?" Gabe asked.
"Yeah, but they brushed it off as some kind of sick prank. The detective said someone at the party must’ve found it and sent it just to mess with me. But that doesn’t make any sense. No one there even knew who I was, let alone where to send something."
"So you're taking this seriously then?" Laura said. She sounded rattled.
"My gut tells me there's more to his death than an accidental drowning. I think the necklace and the note just confirm it. I just... I don't think I can just ignore them. The person that Joey had become those last few weeks, that wasn't the real Joey. If someone killed him, then I can't just let the murderer get away with it. No matter what happened between us at the end, he was still my best friend for eighteen years. I can't just write that off."
Laura nodded, and I could see the shift in her eyes, the moment her grief aligned with mine. If anyone would understand, it was her. "You're right," she said quietly, but with conviction. "We owe it to him — and ourselves — to find out what really happened. Not just for closure, but because the truth matters. And if the police won't listen, that only leaves us."
"So what are you two suggesting?" Gabe asked. "That we try to catch the killer ourselves?"
"Wait," Asher interrupted before I could respond. "I don't mean to be insensitive or anything, but what does this have to do with me and Killian? We didn't even know Joey. I mean, I'm sorry for your loss and all, but..." He trailed off.
"Well, Aidan told me about how Killian caught that killer in your town, the one that killed your friend. Since you're the only people I know who have actually had any kind of experience investigating a murder, I was hoping you'd...maybe...help me out." It sounded a lot sillier when I said it out loud.
Killian's eyes lit up immediately, but Asher's jaw clenched. "No way, Kill," he said quickly. "You remember what it was like last time. You almost died. Besides, there's no way Adam would let us get involved in something like that again."
But Killian was already hooked. "Who said Adam has to know? Besides, this isn't anything like last time. I'll just be...advising. Plus, we don't know any of the people involved so we won't be at risk."
Asher let out a low moan and pushed his ice cream away, as if he'd lost his appetite.
"So who all is in?" Killian asked.
"I am," Laura said resolutely.
"Where Laura goes, I go," Gabe said.
"You know I'm behind you," Aidan said, laying his hand gently on the back of my neck.
"I'm in," Killian said cheerily.
Asher's head thumped as it landed on the table. A muffled "Count me in, too" emerged from him in the form of a resigned sigh.
Everyone except Asher turned to Caitlin.
"The only reason I'd want to find Joey's killer is to congratulate them on a job well done," Caitlin spat out.
Laura's eyes grew wide, and her head swiveled toward me, "Okay," she said carefully. I could tell she was fighting not to deck Caitlin right there in the ice cream parlor. "I'm ready for the rest of the story now."
I sighed. "Caitlin is pregnant."
"Wonderful," Laura snapped. "I'll buy the cigars. Go on."
"The baby is Joey's." Caitlin's tone was brittle. "When I told him, he told me to get an abortion. And I would have, too, if it hadn't been for Will."
"I see," said Laura. "And how exactly is Will involved?"
"I told you, we met at a party," I jumped in, trying to cut it off before things got out of hand.
"The night Joey was killed," Caitlin filled in helpfully.
Laura's eyebrows jumped. "And what were you doing at the party?"
"I went to see Joey. We had an argument. Caitlin and I started talking and...well...I offered to help. With the baby."
"Help how?" Laura's eyes flashed between Caitlin and me.
Caitlin finally seemed to grasp how dangerous Laura could be and had fallen silent, leaving me to answer her question. Aidan had suddenly found searching for Reese's Pieces in the bottom of his sundae completely engrossing. Killian was hanging on every word while Asher's head was still resting on the table. I wondered if he had fallen asleep and, if so, I was terribly envious. Gabe just looked as if someone had dropped him onto the set of a soap opera and failed to give him a script.
I knew I had to tread carefully as I considered how best to navigate the minefield that was Laura's temper. She was not above causing a scene in public, and I wasn’t in the mood for an embarrassing impromptu meltdown. Even with that knowledge, I still somehow blurted out, "I want to be a part of the baby's life."
Laura's eyebrow arched so high it almost disappeared into her hairline. "What does that even mean?" she asked, voice dripping with disbelief.
I glanced at Caitlin for backup, but she was busy pretending her nails were suddenly extremely fascinating. Clearly, I was on my own. "Well, uh... I want to be there for support. Like, um, financially, and...stuff?" I trailed off, feeling like a deer in headlights.
That was all it took. Laura shot up from her seat, her chair scraping back with enough force to rattle the table. "I'm sorry, you’re what?" she asked, her voice a pitch that could probably shatter glass.
Suddenly, the restaurant felt a lot quieter. The only other patrons, an older couple, shot us wary glances, like they thought we might be on drugs...or worse — TikTokkers. The owner was also giving us a look of pure suspicion.
"Laura, sit down," Gabe hissed.
She sat, but it was obvious that what she really wanted to do involved beating me senseless with the napkin dispenser. "We need to talk. Now." Her tone left no room for argument. She stood again and tilted her head toward the door. I got the message.
"We'll, um...be right back," I said as I also stood.
Gabe and Aidan got up to let us out of the booth. Laura stalked toward the door with me following more slowly behind. I felt like every eye in the room was one us as we made our exit.
"What in the hell are you thinking?" Laura asked as soon as we were outside.
"Laura, please don't fight me on this," I said, exhaustion clear in my voice. "I'm so tired of everyone questioning every decision I make."
"Then stop making reckless decisions."
"Laura..."
"Just explain this to me, please."
"It's just... This baby is a part of Joey. It's all I have left of him. I can't just walk away."
Laura shook her head. "Do you even hear yourself? Do you know how crazy that sounds?"
"My mind is made up. I don't want to fight about this."
She let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. Like you said inside, it’s your life. But you’re wrong about one thing — you’re still my oldest and dearest friend, and that makes this my business too. I know I haven’t been there for you lately. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own grief that I just...didn’t feel like I could face yours too. That's not really an excuse, and I'm sorry. For what it’s worth, I want you to know that, from now on, I’ll be here for you, no matter what you decide. Now that Joey’s gone..." Her voice caught, and she swallowed hard before continuing. "Now that Joey’s gone, I don’t think I could bear to lose you, too."
I took Laura’s hand, squeezing it gently. "It means a lot, and I’m sorry, too. You’re right. You are my friend, and that does make this your business. Your support means more than you know."
She nodded slowly, then her expression shifted. "There’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you. I know you well enough to guess that you’ve been blaming yourself for Joey’s spiral at the end, and, by extension, for his death. But, Will, it’s not your fault."
I opened my mouth to argue, but she raised a hand to stop me. "Let me finish. You and Joey were close, but there were things he never told you."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Like what?"
"Things about his dad," she said quietly. "One time, he and I were hanging out without you — you were probably at some church thing, I don’t know — and we got drunk. You know how he was always taking beer from his mom's stash. Anyway, in vino veritas or whatever, but he confided to me that he was absolutely terrified of turning out like his dad. Said it like it was this...curse hanging over him. I asked him what he meant, and that’s when he told me that his dad was an alcoholic. A mean one. Not just sloppy drunk, but nasty. Screaming matches, broken dishes, walking on eggshells all the time. Mrs. Taylor finally got the courage to kick him out after years of it wearing her down. Joey said he was too little to really remember the worst of it, but once he got older, his mom filled in the blanks. Told him how bad it had gotten, how it was tearing their family apart. How she was scared to death Joey would pick up those same demons without even realizing it."
I felt my chest tighten. "I didn’t know all that..."
"He said after his dad left, it was like he vanished into thin air. No calls. No letters. Nothing. Just...gone. Like Joey had never even existed."
"Why didn't he ever tell me? I thought we told each other everything."
"Yeah, he didn’t want you to know," Laura continued, her voice soft but firm. "He was afraid you’d think less of him."
"I would never—"
"I think," she interrupted, "deep down, despite all his bitching, he envied your family. The one he could never have."
"Envied my family?" I echoed, confused.
"Yeah," Laura said, squeezing my hand. "His dad was gone, his mom was always working, and even when she wasn't, she was too exhausted to really be there. And there you were, right next door with this seemingly perfect family. Two parents who loved you, a stay-at-home mom..."
I shook my head, the old frustration rising up. "My family was far from perfect."
"I know that," she said quickly. "But to him, it was. The grass is always greener, right?" She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "But the point is Joey was a ticking time bomb. Alcoholism runs in his family, and he’s been drinking since middle school. He completely went off the rails when he started college. None of that was your fault. Whatever happened that night...it’s not on you."
I felt a lump in my throat, but I nodded. "Thank you for telling me. Maybe, someday, I’ll believe it." I exhaled, the weight of the words almost unbearable. "But all of this just makes me want to find his killer more. Someone took away his chance to prove he wasn’t his father. And they need to pay for that."
Laura pulled me into a tight hug, then pulled back, slipping her hand into mine once again. "Now that we got all that mushy stuff out of the way," she said, her voice hardening as she squeezed my hand with surprising strength, "know this. I’m keeping a close eye on little Miss Caitlin. I do not trust her."
I grinned, feeling the tension ease slightly. "You’re just jealous there’s a new woman in my life."
"Never forget, I was here first," she said, a sly smile on her face as she looped her arm through mine and tugged me toward the door.
I glanced over to see everyone watching us through the window. I stuck my tongue out at them and we went back inside.
"So where do we start?" Laura asked as we rejoined the rest of them at the table.
"Start what?" Aidan asked.
"Well, if we're going to find Joey's killer, we have to have some sort of plan," she said, sounding like a teacher explaining something to a particularly slow pupil.
Everyone turned to look at Killian.
"What?" he asked.
"You're the only one here who has, you know, caught a killer," I reminded him.
"We didn't exactly catch the killer," Asher said in a pained voice. "It was more like he caught us, and Killian just kinda blew him away."
"Oh," I said in a small voice. "We'll have to, um, keep that in mind as a backup plan..."
"But we did do an investigation first," Killian said with a withering glance at Asher, who merely snorted in response.
"At least you've had some experience with this kind of thing," Laura said. "That's more than the rest of us combined. But that brings us back to my question, where do we start?"
"Well," Killian said slowly, "the obvious place to start is figuring out who might’ve wanted Joey dead."
"Everyone who knew him?" Caitlin offered, deadpan.
I gave a weary nod. "He wasn’t exactly Mr. Popularity toward the end. He was drinking heavily, lying, acting like a jerk, picking fights, breaking hearts—"
"And that was just with Will," Laura cut in, bone-dry.
I shot her a dirty look. "He was also sleeping around. A lot. With people who weren’t exactly single. He made plenty of enemies."
“Start with people who were at the party,” Killian said. “Who found him?”
I hesitated, feeling like an idiot. Why hadn't I asked that when I was at the police station. “Uh. I... don’t know.”
“I heard it was Keiyara Parker,” Gabe said.
“Oh, I know her,” Laura said. “She’s in one of my classes.”
“Can you talk to her?” Killian asked.
Laura shrugged. “Sure. I’ll corner her Monday between Shakespeare and lunch.”
“Where was the party?” Killian continued. He was on a roll.
“A frat house off campus,” I said quickly. I knew that one. Small victories.
“Then someone should talk to the frat bros,” Killian said.
“Me?” I squeaked.
“Why not you?” he asked, clearly enjoying my horror.
"Aren't they like a bunch of jocks and meatheads?"
Gabe snorted. "Not at Pemberton. We're not exactly a division one school. Our Greek life is pretty tame aside from an occasional party here and there. I know a few of the guys. Want me to handle it?"
“Yes, please,” I said.
“What am I asking?” Gabe said, pulling out his phone like he was about to start taking notes.
“If anyone saw anyone suspicious—”
“Half the people there were on one or more substances,” Caitlin cut in. “They were all acting suspiciously.”
“—or anyone who didn’t belong,” Killian continued, ignoring her. “And ask about the necklace. Maybe someone found it during cleanup.”
“Oh, ask if anyone saw Joey head toward the pool,” Laura added.
“Police already asked all that,” I said. “Everyone claimed they saw nothing.”
“Well, somebody saw something,” Gabe said, nodding at the necklace on my chest.
Killian suddenly sat up straighter. “What if the killer sent it?”
“Why would the killer send me the necklace?” I asked. “With a note, no less. What was he going for, dramatic flair?”
“Some killers want attention,” Aidan said. “They get off on it. They want people to know how clever they are.”
“Isn’t that more of a serial killer thing?” Gabe asked, frowning.
“Who says we’re not dealing with one?” Aidan countered.
They were officially in a murder nerd-off now.
“The M.O. doesn’t fit,” Gabe said. “Joey drowned, right?”
“As far as I know,” I replied.
“We need to confirm that,” Gabe said, eyeing me. “You’ve got a contact at the police department, right?”
“Contact is a strong word,” I said, thinking of my last tense encounter with Detective Grafton.
This whole thing was starting to feel like signing up for a group project and realizing your teammates were all chaos goblins.
“Try to get the autopsy report,” Gabe said.
“Can just anyone just get one of those?” Aidan asked, eyebrow raised.
“I guess I’ll find out,” I said with a grimace.
“If not, let me know. My cousin’s a dispatcher,” Gabe offered. “But I’d rather keep her out of it unless we have to. She’s got a very nosy mom energy.”
“What about Mckenzie?” Laura asked suddenly.
I blinked. “What about her?”
“She was pissed when Joey cheated on her. Could be worth a conversation.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Caitlin chirped.
"Didn't you, uh, sleep with Joey while they were still dating?" I asked.
She gave me a withering glare. “I never said that was me. I mean, it was, but in my defense, he lied and said he was single. She knows that. We're both women scorned. We have a lot in common. We're practically a club of the betrayed. Maybe we’ll get matching mugs.”
“Any other exes?” Killian asked, moving on.
“I’ll ask around,” Caitlin said cheerfully. "We can grow the club."
“Are we missing anything?” Gabe asked.
“Common sense?” Asher offered helpfully.
“There’s one more person,” I said slowly.
“Who?” Killian and Gabe said at the same time, like an off-key duet.
“Joey’s mom. She might’ve heard something from the police.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Laura said, and I exhaled in relief. I wasn’t ready to face that tidal wave of grief again.
“But,” she added, looking at me with puppy-dog eyes laced with steel, “will you come with me?”
I sighed. So much for the easy out. “Yeah. I’ll go.”
“Think you can poke around Joey’s room while you’re there?” Killian asked casually.
“We’ll try,” Laura said. “If it comes to it, we’ll offer to help pack up his things. A good deed with a side of emotional espionage.”
“I think that's enough to give us a solid starting point,” Killian said.
“More than enough,” Asher muttered under his breath.
“Let’s all talk to our people and regroup at Thanksgiving,” Killian suggested, pretending not to hear him.
“Laura and I won’t be at your Thanksgiving,” Gabe pointed out.
“Can we meet up after?” Killian asked.
“Where?” Laura asked.
“Our apartment,” Aidan offered. “Killian and Asher can come with us—if Adam’s cool with it.”
“He won’t mind,” Killian said confidently.
“Then it’s a plan,” Gabe said.
Killian suddenly held his hand out, palm down like we were the cast of a Disney sports movie. Laura caught on first and stacked her hand on his. I smirked and added mine. One by one, the others followed, until only Asher was left. He rolled his eyes so hard I thought they’d stick, then slapped his hand on top.
“Remember,” Killian said solemnly, “we’re a team. No lone wolf heroics. We find proof, we go to the cops. Deal?”
“Deal,” we all echoed.
“Then let’s get this son of a bitch.”
Our circle broke into hugs and awkward goodbyes. No one really wanted to leave. It felt safer in the group, like nothing bad could touch us while we were together.
But Joey had been alone the night he died. Out by the pool. I wondered if he’d felt the danger coming or if it hit him before he even knew what was happening.
God, I hoped it was the latter.
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