Reap The Whirlwind
Book 2 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries
By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026
Epilogue
"Looking back, it's so clear. I should have seen it, should have known."
"Known what?" Doctor Wohler asked. "That your new friend was a very sick young woman? That she ruthlessly killed your best friend and two others? That she would try to kill you and your husband? How could you have known any of those things, Will? Your only crime was trusting someone."
"And it got Aidan killed."
"It's useless to blame yourself. We've talked a lot about how we can never be responsible for someone else's actions. What they do is fully their own choice, no matter what the circumstances. In this case, it sounds like Caitlin has an entire history of violent mental illness. You couldn't have known that, and you're not responsible for what happened."
"But..."
"But what?"
"I should have listened when Killian and Aidan first said they suspected her."
"What would that have changed? Chances are you would have proceeded with your investigation exactly as they did. You did all you could. And what you did saved your life, and almost certainly others."
"But not Aidan's. Maybe...maybe my life isn't worth living without him."
"You have your whole life ahead of you, Will. I know it's hard to believe right now, but you'll heal. You'll fall in love again. You'll experience joy and happiness. And you'll experience more loss and pain. That's all part of being alive."
"I feel like all I've experienced these last few months has been loss and pain."
"You've experienced more than your share. I can't deny that. But you still have Laura. You still have your friends. You still have your job and your art. You still have your mother."
My mother. I couldn't deny that she'd been a rock since that horrible night.
"I've moved back in with her. I couldn't bear to go back to the apartment. And she's all alone now with Dad gone."
"It sounds like that's the best option for both of you. You can be there for each other. You're both still mourning the loss of your partners."
"I haven't seen Killian and Asher since Aidan's funeral. It was...hard. I'm pretty sure Killian is blaming himself, too. I probably bring back too many memories."
"Give him space. You all need time to heal. Then reach out when you're ready. His response will be up to him, obviously, but all you can do is try. Assuming you'd like to maintain that friendship. It's also okay to let it go if that's what you want."
"I don't know what I want."
"And that's okay, too. You're dealing with a lot right now. Give yourself some grace."
I managed a small smile. "That's my mom's name. Grace."
He smiled back. "It's a lovely name. How's the job going?" he asked.
"It's going okay. I just started back a couple of weeks ago. Nikki gave me a lot of time off."
"That was kind of her. Are you painting?"
"Yes. That's like the one thing that seems to help."
"Yeah. She had the abortion the same day we talked about it at the café, when she told me she wasn’t going through with it."
"Then why lie?"
"To get money from me. I think that was her plan from the beginning — maybe even with Joey. The more I think about it, the more I believe she just expected other people to take care of her. She didn’t want to work or put in effort. She just wanted to manipulate people into giving her what she wanted. At first, I think she thought she could seduce me like she did Joey. When that didn’t work and Aidan and I started dating, she used the baby. She's a con artist. Maybe even a little psychotic."
"I always hesitate to diagnose someone I haven’t treated personally, but it certainly sounds like she had some kind of personality disorder — narcissism, at the very least. I imagine she would’ve faked a miscarriage eventually, milked that for sympathy and money, and then moved on once she’d drained everything she could."
"Probably." I shrugged. It didn't really matter anymore.
"And the girl who sent you the necklace—how did she know where to find you?"
"Detective Grafton has a theory. He thinks Keiyara saw me arguing with Joey earlier that night. A lot of people did. Or maybe she and Robbie were the ones smoking in the backyard when Joey found me with Caitlin. Either way, she connected me to Joey. Later, the paramedics took Joey’s body away, she found the necklace. Maybe she picked it up, planning to return it, but once his death was ruled an accident, she must’ve had doubts. Or at least suspicions. She'd heard Caitlin and Joey arguing. She'd seen his body. Maybe she saw or heard more than she admitted. Grafton thinks she saw my photo in the paper, the one Nikki took of me posing with my painting and the buyer. That's really the only way she could’ve known where I worked."
"That makes sense. Is it alright if we shift gears for a moment?"
I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that, but I nodded.
"Thank you. I have an important question, Will, and I want you to be honest with me. Have you had any thoughts of self harm recently?"
I let out a dry laugh. "Thoughts? Yeah. Constantly. It’s like this low, persistent hum in the back of my mind. But I’m not going to act on it. I made a promise to myself — and to Aidan — not to go down that road again."
"Are you finding yourself fantasizing about it or making any kind of plans?"
"No. Not like that. It’s more like...fleeting thoughts that pop up when things feel especially dark or overwhelming. Which, lately, is most of the time."
"There’s actually a name for that. It’s called passive suicidal ideation. And yes, it’s serious, but it doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means your brain is trying to cope with something that feels unbearable. You’ve been there before, so your mind knows that path. That doesn’t mean you’ll walk it again, but it’s something we need to pay attention to.
"Thoughts like these aren’t a failure. They’re a signal. And reaching out isn’t weakness. It’s survival — life pushing through, even when it hurts.
"There is good news though. Therapy, medication, and connection can make a big difference. They won’t erase the pain overnight, but they can make it bearable.
"We’ve talked about this before, but I really believe you’d benefit from meeting with me regularly. Do you think you could commit to that?"
"Yes," I said, my voice firm. "I'll do it for Aidan."
He eyed me thoughtfully for a second. "That's a good place to start, but eventually, I hope you'll do it for yourself. You're worth that, Will."
I shrugged. Maybe I'd believe that someday. "I should go. I've taken too much of your time as it is."
"Nonsense, it's quite alright. That's why I'm here."
"Still, I should get home, check on Mom. Thank you for squeezing me in today."
"I'm glad you called. Stop by Cheryl's desk on your way out and set up a regular appointment time. How does once a week sound?"
"It sounds good. Thank you, Dr. Wohler," I stood to leave but paused by the door and turned around, my hand on the knob. "You know, my dad once told me to look up a Bible verse, right after he found out I was gay. It was Hosea 8:1. Do you know it?"
"No, I'm afraid I'm not that familiar with the Bible. Can you quote it?"
"Oh, yeah. I can't get it out of my head these days. It says, 'For you have sown the wind, and you shall reap the whirlwind...' I've thought about that a lot. Do you think that he could have been right?"
"What do you think?"
"I don't know. I don't really believe in God anymore, so I guess I don't believe there's some divine being up in the sky punishing me for being gay, which is what Dad meant, but it does feel like I made choices that have had a ripple effect of hurting everyone around me."
"No, Will. I may not be much of a Bible scholar, but I think that's just how you're interpreting these tragic things that happened around you. You didn't cause Joey's behavior any more than you caused Caitlin's cruelty, and I think, in your heart, you know that."
"Maybe. At least I'm trying to get there."
"Maybe you should flip that sentiment around and take back your power."
"What do you mean?"
"You can’t reap what you don’t sow, Will. You have to put into the world what you hope to receive. You’re not reaping the whirlwind. I think you’ve weathered the storm…and come out stronger for it."
Suddenly, the painting I had done so many months ago popped into my head. It described my situation so perfectly then, and it still fit. I saw the tiny frog clinging doggedly to that thin blade of grass while a raging storm whipped furiously around him. He might bend but he wouldn't break. He was a survivor.
Like me.
A small smile turned up the corners of my mouth, and I looked up to find Dr. Wohler smiling back at me.
"See you next week." I said as I slipped out, closing the door behind me.
Continued in Book 3
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