All Lost Things

By Josh Aterovis

© 2001

Blood covered everything in the small room, an incredible amount of blood. It splattered the walls, covered the floor and even dripped from the ceiling. The smell was nauseating, overwhelming the senses with its metallic bite. It was amazing to think that so much blood could come from one person, but there was only one body in evidence.

The body, it could no longer be called a person, all that had made it a person - the spark and soul that makes one alive - was gone. What was left was just an empty shell. This one more empty than most. The head had been nearly severed from the neck and that only after it had been hacked and chopped repeatedly. It lay now in a grotesque heap in the middle of the room.

It would have been easy and strangely satisfying to leave it like that for someone to find. And it wouldn't have been right away either. The person the body had once been was not the type of person anyone would miss, or if they did it would only be to appreciate the fact that he was absent. The idea of someone else witnessing his bloody and undignified end was very compelling but it was too much of a risk. As careful as one was, you just couldn't be sure what kind of evidence had been left behind. If even half of what they showed on TV was true then those forensic investigators could practically work magic. No, it was too big a risk.

Gasoline splashed across the floor, mingling with the blood and overpowering the smell of death.

Chapter 1

There's a certain pleasure in that drowsy state that occurs somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. You know the sun is out because you can feel the warmth on your eyelids, but you have nowhere to be and nothing to do so you just lie there, not quite asleep, but not really awake either. It wasn't something I got to experience very often so I was enjoying the rare treat for all it was worth. At least I was until the phone started ringing.

I knew I was home alone so at first I decided to ignore it. After what must have been a dozen rings it stopped, much to my relief. But before I could sink back into oblivion it started up again. With a sign I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and staggered across the room to snatch up the offending object.

"H'lo?" I mumbled sleepily. I was determined not to wake up entirely on the off chance it was just an AT&T salesman.

"Hey sexy," a familiar voice purred. I suddenly found myself wide-awake and not in the least bit resentful.

"Hey yourself, beautiful," I said, a smile warming my voice.

"Please tell me I didn't wake you up. You can't be sleeping away the first day of our lives as high school graduates!"

"Well I was, but I wasn't exactly asleep."

He laughed, "But you weren't exactly awake either?"

"Exactly!" We both laughed, "So what's up?" I asked.

"Nothing really, I just wanted to hear your voice."

"You'll be hearing it all too often before too much longer."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, aren't we going to get a place together? I mean, I just assumed because you said you didn't want to live on campus and I don't want to drive all that way everyday…"

"Oh wow…I guess I hadn't really thought about it. Yeah, definitely!" Excitement filled his voice. "Waking up in your arms every morning! Let's start looking today!"

"Today? But we have 3 months…"

"Not really, more like two, and besides, that's not even that long. We can stop and see Will while we're over there, too. I'm a little worried about him."

"I…I guess so. I need to take a shower and stuff."

"Ok, meet me at my house whenever you're ready."

"Ok. See you later."

"Later. Oh, and Killian? I love you."

"I love you too, Ash."

I hung up the phone and stood staring down at it for a moment or two. I had just assumed we would be living together and was surprised that the thought hadn't already crossed Asher's mind. If I had known that he wasn't already planning it I don't know if I would have brought it up. I wasn't at all sure I was ready for that step and had only said something because I had assumed it was already decided. Oh well, too late to back out now.

I grabbed a pair of clean boxers and started for the bathroom, my mind swirling as I went. Asher and I had been together now for a year and a half. We'd been friends since we were kids, growing up next door to each other and going to the same school. Things had changed in our junior year though, when a new boy had arrived at school. His name was Seth and he stirred things in me that I'd never felt before. I soon realized that I was gay. When Seth was murdered in what looked to be a hate crime, the police passed it off as a random mugging gone wrong. I couldn't accept that however, and I enlisted Asher's help in finding the real killer. Along the way, Asher told me he loved me and had loved me for years. By the time we figured out who the killer was we had almost become his latest victims.

Jump forward about one year later. My cousin, Aidan, and Asher's cousin, Will, become roommates and then lovers. Will's best friend was found dead in a swimming pool and it was ruled an accidental death But shortly after that, Will received a cryptic note in the mail saying that it wasn't an accident. He asked Asher and me, and a few of his other friends to help find out what really happened. I agreed to help, against Asher's wishes. It almost tore us apart. It turned out that Asher had been right. By the time it was all over, Aidan was dead. The shockwaves were far reaching and they had yet to really settle. I could understand why Asher was worried about Will.

Six months had passed since Aidan was shot and I knew that Will hadn't dealt with things very well. He had become very withdrawn, quit his job at the art gallery and moved back in with his mom. I knew he was seeing a counselor sporadically, but I couldn't see where he had let it help him all that much.

As I was dressing, my mind wandered back to Asher and I. Was moving in together the right move? Even though we had been together for a long time now, we had still never made love. We'd fooled around some, but we had never really gone all the way. Asher was ready, had been for some time, but for some reason I just wasn't. I know Asher tried to be understanding, but it was creating stress in our relationship. It was something I really needed to work on if I was as committed to us as I liked to think I was.

An hour later, Asher and I were on our way to Will's house.

"I was thinking about Will earlier," I said as I drove.

"Yeah? I've been thinking about him a lot lately," he said, "The baby will be coming soon and I just don't think he's ready."

Before he had been killed, Will's friend had gotten a girl pregnant. Will had offered to help raise the baby, even signed papers that made it all legal and binding. The baby was due any day now.

"What do you mean, not ready?" I asked, "He's obviously still depressed and all but that's to be expected, don't you think? I mean his lover was killed on their wedding night by his own father. You can't expect someone to get over something like that overnight. Maybe the baby will help bring him around."

"Maybe, but what if it doesn't? He's barely left the house in the last sixth months. He isn't working, as far as I know he isn't painting; I'm just worried about him."

"So am I, Ash, but what can we do?"

He sighed, "I don't know. I wish there was something though."

We drove the rest of the way in a slightly uncomfortable silence. This had been happening more and more lately. It used to be that we could talk about anything and nothing for hours on end, or simply enjoy a companionable silence, the kind when nothing needs to be said. Our silences seemed heavy these days.

I had been convinced from day one that Asher and I were meant to be together forever. I still believed that, but now I sometimes found myself wondering if that was realistic. We were still kids; who were we to know about forever? I looked over at him slouched down in the passenger seat and thought about how much he had changed in the last year. He was tall now; a little over six foot, and thin. His curly black hair was a little longer than it used to be, I wondered if he was growing it out or if he'd just missed a haircut. Why didn't I know something like that? His face had lost some of that adolescent look and he was really starting to look like an adult now. His eyes were the only things that hadn't changed; they were still the same inscrutable silvery-gray.

I shifted my gaze to the rear-view mirror at my own reflection. I hadn't changed much, at least not my eyes. I've always looked younger than my age and I still did. I was average height, about five foot nine, and maybe slightly underweight. I had bright blue eyes and wavy blonde hair. All in all I could have easily passed for a tenth grader instead of a high school graduate, even if the graduation had only happened yesterday. I sighed.

"What are you thinking?" Asher asked.

"I look like a little kid. Who's ever going to take me serious when I look fifteen?"

"You're adorable!" he protested.

"Exactly! I'm adorable, like a little kid. You look all grown up, you look...sexy."

"Gee thanks," he giggled, "You make that sound like such a bad thing. But seriously, where is this coming from? I love the way you look. I love everything about you, you know that."

I sighed again, "It's not that. I don't know, just forget it."

"No, if it's really bothering you I don't want to just forget it."

"Well I want you to, ok?"

"Geez, Killian, what is up with you?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

Any further strained conversation was spared as we pulled into the driveway of Will's house. It was a modest, two story home with an attached garage. The white vinyl siding was looking a bit grungy, as if it needed a good power washing. The shrubs were slightly overgrown and had a scraggly look to them. It looked like what it was; a home whose primary caretaker had passed away not too long ago. Will's dad had died in the aftermath of Aidan's shooting. The details of what had happened were still pretty sketchy to me. I'd never heard a good explanation as to what had happened and I wasn't about to ask. It looked like neither Will nor his mom had found keeping up the outside of the house a high priority.

We climbed out of the car and walked up to the front door. Will answered our knock.

"Hi, did I know you were coming?" he said with a slightly confused expression.

I smiled. "Nope, you had no idea. We decided to surprise you."

"Surprise!" Asher added cheerfully.

Will gave us a ghost of a smile as he stepped back to allow us in. We all trooped into the living room, which unlike the outside of the house, was neat and comfortable looking. I looked Will over carefully as we sat down. At first glance, the resemblance between Will and Asher was striking. They both shared the same pale complexion that blushed so very easily and the same curly black hair. The similarities pretty much stopped there, though. Will's eyes were a deep blue and he lacked a good six inches of Asher's height. His rumpled clothing looked liked he slept in them and it looked as if he hadn't shaved today.

"So what's up?" he asked.

I looked over at Asher and decided to let him take the lead. He was Will's cousin after all, and knew him much better than I did.

"We just hadn't talked to you in a while and wanted to see how you were," Asher said carefully.

Will frowned, "I'm fine. What do you mean how I am?"

"Well, I mean…with everything…"

"You mean Aidan being murdered?" Will asked bluntly.

Asher blinked in surprise but recovered quickly. "Yeah, I guess so. And the baby's coming soon too, right?"

Will smiled again, this time a genuine smile. "Yeah, any day now. It could even be today."

"They'll call you when Caitlin goes into labor?" I asked.

"Yeah. Actually, she's already at the hospital. The doctor made her stay in bed for just about the whole last trimester. She's had a really hard time. A couple times we thought she might lose the baby, but she's strong. She's determined that nothing will happen to this baby. One nurse said it was almost like she was giving her strength to the baby. She's gone into labor several times early but they were able to stop it. They said next time though they'll just let her have him. They said she's getting weaker all the time and they can't take the risk of drawing it out any more."

"Him? You know it's a boy?"

"Oh yeah, we've known for a while now. With all the tests they've had to do it was easy for them to know."

"Have you chosen a name?"

"I have a baby name book but I haven't been able to decide on anything yet. If it's a boy I want his middle name to be Joseph, after his father. I thought about naming him Aidan but that would be too painful." He looked away but not before I thought I saw tears well up in his eyes.

"Have you painted anything lately?" Asher asked. Before the murders Will had been a rising star in the local art world. He'd even had his own show last fall.

He shook his head and avoided looking at us.

"You should get back into that, Will," Asher said gently.

"I know; I just haven't felt like doing it since…"

I was starting to feel like all we were doing was opening up old wounds. I decided it was definitely time for a change of subject.

"Ash and I are looking for an apartment over here, something close to school if possible."

"Really?" he asked without much interest in his voice. I wondered if thinking of apartments made him remember the apartment he had lived in with Aidan, been married in and then watched Aidan die in. It seemed like no topic was safe with him.

"Yeah and we'd better go before it gets too late," I said. I hoped the desperation wasn't too obvious in my voice. I wanted out of there bad.

Will looked up and gave me a funny look so I guessed it must have been pretty obvious. "Why don't you come back for dinner? Mom will be home by then and she'd probably like to see you guys."

I didn't know why she would since I barely even knew her but we agreed to be back around 5.

We spent the rest of the day driving around the city checking out apartments. We found a couple we liked close to the school and in our price range. We were feeling pretty satisfied with ourselves when we arrived back at Will's house.

Will's mom was home and it smelled like Will had actually been cooking while we were gone. We were told that the meal would be ready soon.

Dinner turned out to be quite good; Will had prepared a casserole of some sort that involved chicken, broccoli and cheese. The company wasn't quite as good. Will's mom was tired after a long shift at the hospital and any conversation with Will was fraught with landmines.

Asher and I exchanged an unspoken message with our eyes and I was just about to make an excuse for us to leave when the phone rang. Will's mom excused herself and went to answer it. She was back in a flash.

"Will, it's the hospital. Caitlin is in labor!"

Will leaped to his feet, showing the most animation I'd seen yet from him. He ran for the door then spun back around. "You're coming, right?" he said to his mother.

"Yes, let me change and I'll be there," she answered.

Then he turned to Asher and I, who were still sitting at the table. "Will you guys come too?" he asked us.

"Us?" I squeaked.

"I'd really like it if you could be there too."

"We're right behind you," Asher said as he jumped up.

I followed the two of them out the door. Once outside we decided that Will should ride over with us so we all piled into my Volkswagen Bug and headed for the hospital. As I drove I remembered that the last time I was at that hospital Will's dad had been dying. I wondered if that was on Will's mind too. It seemed like everywhere he turned that was some reminded of what he had lost. Maybe the losses would be overshadowed tonight by what he was gaining.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot and we raced into the main lobby. Will skid to a halt in front of the information desk.

"Where do they have the babies?" he asked the startled looking young woman behind the desk. I fought down an urge to giggle.

"Fourth floor is maternity," she said and Will was off running again, "Sir?" she called after him but he was already around the corner at the elevators. She turned to us, "Is he the father?"

"Um…I guess so," I said uncertainly.

The woman shook her head. "They'll take care of him at the nurses' station there then."

Asher and I caught up with him a few minutes later. A nurse was explaining something to him as we approached but we missed the bulk of it.

"You can wait right over here," the nurse was saying as we joined them.

She led us to a small waiting area with several institutional couches and chairs. A magazine rack with health magazines hung on the wall. I had a feeling this would be a long wait.

"I'd better go call Adam," I said after a few minutes of silence.

"Good idea," Asher said, "I'd better call Mom and Dad, too."

We asked for the pay phones at the nurses' station and then set off to call home.

I guess you could call Adam my surrogate father. My real father was an uncaring, abusive man who I hadn't seen now for over a year. Adam took me in after my father beat me up when he found out I was gay. My mom had moved to Pennsylvania with my aunt but I had wanted to stay so it was arranged that I would live with Adam. Adam's son, Kane, was like just like a brother to me. I lived with Adam, Kane and Adam's partner, Steve.

When we got back at the waiting room we found several new additions. Will's mom had arrived and to my surprise Laura and Gabe were there too. Laura was one of Will's lifelong friends and Gabe was her boyfriend. Laura was a strikingly beautiful girl, half African-American and half Native American. She had long shiny black hair and dark almond-shaped eyes. Gabe was Hispanic and very handsome in his own right. They were both students at the college Asher and I would be attending this fall.

After the initial greetings were over we all settled back down on the hard furniture and began to chat. We filled the whole room and Will was noticeably brighter than he'd been all day.

Asher and I brought Laura and Gabe up to date on what had been happening in our lives, graduation and deciding to move, and then it was their turn.

"Well," Laura said with a dramatic pause, "a lot has been happening with us too."

She held out her hand and I noticed a large diamond on her ring finger.

"Oh my gosh!" I gasped. I leaped up and hugged her and then Gabe. Asher was a little slower on the draw but then he joined in on the congratulations too. Will apparently already knew and just smiled at all of us.

"And that's not all," Laura said, and glanced over at Gabe, who nodded encouragingly. "I've decided I'm not going back to school in the fall."

For a moment we all sat in stunned silence. It was obvious that this one even caught Will by surprise. Then we all started talking at once.

Laura raised her hands palm out as if to say stop and we all stopped speaking. "I've decided I want to go to police academy."

"But aren't you studying criminal justice anyway," Will's mom asked, "Wouldn't that be useful?"

"Well yeah, but I've decided I want to do this now. I don't want to wait. And the department will pay for my schooling later if I decide to go back."

"It sounds like you've given this a lot of thought."

"I have. Gabe and I have talked about it and he supports me one hundred percent. I've already done all the preliminary requirements and I'm starting in the next class."

We talked for a while longer about their big news and then moved on to other things. Every once in a while a nurse would come out and tell us how far along Caitlin was and how much longer they thought it would be. It seemed things were moving pretty quickly and it wouldn't be one of those long drawn out labors. It was still quite a long time though, and before long Will's mom fell asleep. Shortly after I noticed Asher had dozed off and I moved closer and pulled him against me where he slept on my shoulder. Gabe was drifting off when the big news finally came.

"Mr. Keegan?" a nurse asked the room in general.

"That's me," Will said jumping up. Gabe started and sat up and Asher blinked drowsily, looking a little like an owl that had been startled awake. Laura leaned over and gently shook Mrs. Keegan.

The nurse wore a rather grim expression and I had a feeling her news wasn't good. "Mr. Keegan, I'm sorry, there have been some complications."

"What do you mean complications?" Will asked; his voice tight with fear.

The sun was still hovering low over the horizon when I pulled into our driveway that evening. The days were getting longer and longer as summer officially approached. I lived with my surrogate father, Adam Connelly, and his partner, Steve Redden, in an old two-story beach house. We lived in a beach resort town on the Atlantic Ocean. For about six months of the year it was a quiet small town, but when the tourist season started, usually sometime around Memorial Day, it swelled to a small city. For now, things were still on the quiet side. Things wouldn’t get really crazy until after the schools let out.

As I climbed out my car I thought about the events that had brought me here. It was Adam’s son, Seth, who had first helped me admit that I was gay. He was the one who was murdered. When my dad beat me up and kicked me out, Adam had taken me in. I’d lived with him ever since, even when my Mom moved to Pennsylvania.

My hand was on the doorknob when the door flew open and a small, compact body plowed into me at full force. I staggered back and wrapped my arms around the missile.

"Whoa, sorry Killian," Kane panted as he disentangled himself from my grasp.

Kane was Adam’s son and Seth’s little brother. Every time I looked at him I saw Seth in his features. They both had inherited their mother’s looks, elfin and attractive. They both had intelligent, bright green eyes and a slightly upturned nose. Their hair tended to have a flyaway look to it that suggested that no matter what they tried it would do exactly as it pleased. Seth had worn the look proudly and it suited him. Kane always managed to look like he needed a comb. The other big difference between the two brothers was that Seth had been tall and lanky, where Kane was short and sturdy. Kane was 16 and he seemed to have a different girlfriend every week.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" I asked him.

"Mitch just called, his mom said we can go skating tonight at the new indoors skate-park. We gotta roll before she changes her mind. You know, school night and all."

I laughed, "Alright, have fun, dude."

"I will," he yelled as he jumped the porch rail.

"And if you see any cute guys think of me," I called after him.

"Ha! Get your own guys!" He jumped into Adam’s car, a dusty old Jeep Cherokee, and tore out of the driveway in a spray of gravel.

Adam was waiting just I inside the door. "What was that about?" he asked. Adam didn’t look all that much like either of his sons. They had taken more after their mother, but Seth had gotten his height from his father. Adam stood a little over six foot and was looking more and more distinguished as his once reddish-blonde hair turned grayer and grayer. His face still held a certain boyish charm, though, and his eyes were a sparkling pale blue. Right now they were clouded with concern. Just what I needed, I thought.

"Kane is going skating," I said, unsure of what he meant and not at all sure what his tone of voice was implying.

"Yes I know," he said patiently, "I gave him permission. I meant what was that about cute guys? Are you and Asher ok?"

"Geez, Adam. I was just kidding. Asher and I are fine."

"You’re sure?"

"Of course I’m sure," I said, although I wasn’t really all that sure. I walked into the kitchen with Adam close on my heels. "We’re even looking at apartments."

His eyebrows shot up, "Apartments?"

"Apartments?" Steve echoed from his spot at the kitchen table, where he sat hunched over a set of blueprints.

"Yes, apartments," I said. I opened the refrigerator and rummaged around until I found a Pepsi.

"When did this happen?" Adam asked me. I definitely didn’t like his tone of voice now.

"Nothing has happened, yet. We’re just looking. We don’t want to live on campus and we don’t want to drive an hour every day so it just makes sense that we’d get an apartment. I’d be moving out if I was going away to college anyway. What’s the big deal?"

"The big deal is you haven’t even discussed this with me."

"I didn’t know I had to. Look, we’re just getting a head start."

"A head start? You just graduated a day ago! And you’re already apartment shopping? Have you picked out your china pattern yet? Are you registered?"

"Huh?"

"Does your mother know about this?"

"I’m almost 18; I don’t need my mommy’s permission," I snapped.

"So that means no."

"It means screw you, that’s what it means." I slammed the Pepsi down on the counter, splashing it all over the place, and stormed out of the room. I took the stairs two at a time and slammed my bedroom door shut behind me.

I slumped against the door and looked around the room I shared with Kane. It was a small room, never intended for two occupants, and so it was crowded with all the things two teen-aged boys think they need to survive. Two single beds took up most of the floor space. A desk, set against one wall under a sloping ceiling, held a computer and stack of books. Two mismatched dressers flanked the desk. Mine held a small TV set and Kane’s an assortment of junk that leaned perilously to one side, threatening to spill onto the floor at the slightest provocation. Clothes lay scattered about the room, some mine and some Kane’s, some dirty and some clean. A cloudy glass lay atop a pile of outgrown shirts that Kane had cleaned out of his dresser last week and never touched since. The wall’s decorations were pretty much untouched since the day I moved in. They were exactly as Seth had left them the last time he walked out of this room. By some unspoken agreement, neither Kane nor I had ever made a move to take them down. A Matthew Sheppard poster hung on one wall and an old MTV Fight For Your Rights poster graced the other. They served as a quiet reminder of the boy who had once lived in this room.

A soft knock on the door brought me back to the present.

"Killian?" It was Steve. "Can we talk?"

I sighed and moved away from the door. "Come on in," I told him as I dropped backwards onto my bed.

The door opened and Steve leaned against the doorframe. "You ok?"

"I’m fine," I said to the ceiling.

He walked over and sat down next to me. Steve was in his early 40’s and in great shape. He had warm brown eyes and dark brown hair and was usually the voice of reason in our home. Despite the fact that I had lived with Steve almost as long as I had Adam, we had never formed the depth of bond that Adam and I shared. Still, I respected his opinion and valued his advice. I just wasn’t sure I was in the mood for it right now.

"You could have broken it to him a little more gently, you know?" he said.

"Great, now you’re going to come up here and lay a guilt trip on me."

"I’m not trying to lay any guilt trips. I’m just saying that this isn’t easy for him."

"What isn’t easy?"

"You’re a smart boy, Killian, think about it. For all intents and purposes Adam has been your father for the last two years. He loves you like you’re his son. You and Kane are his world, especially since he lost Seth. Now you’re growing up and getting ready to fly the nest. He’s still getting used to the idea that you’re a high school graduate and then you walk in and announce you’re moving out. With no warnings, no discussion, nothing. How do you think that makes him feel?"

"That doesn’t mean he can jump down my throat," I said petulantly.

"From where I was sitting it looked like you were both doing your share of throat jumping. What’s really going on, Kill? What’s bothering you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Something is bothering you. I’ve lived with you long enough to know the signs. You aren’t exactly hard to read you know."

"Great. Just great. So now I’m a bad son and I’m transparent."

"I never said you’re a bad a son. And stop trying to turn everything into a fight. I’m not going to rise to the bait as easily as Adam. You’re just trying to avoid the real issue."

"And what, pray tell, is the real issue, oh great and mighty Oz?"

"That’s what I’m asking you, Dorothy."

I frowned, "How come I hafta be the girl?"

"Killian…"

It was clear from his voice that Steve was running out of patience. I sighed. "I don’t know what the problem is. I’m pretty sure it’s me though."

"What’s going on?"

"I don’t know," I moaned, "There’s something wrong with me. I’m scared to death of moving in with Asher. I mean I know I love him, but the whole idea just seems really crazy right now. Do you know we’ve never even had sex?"

Steve tried to keep his expression under control and almost succeeded. "No, I didn’t know that. What does that have to do with moving in with him?"

"Asher wants to. I know he does. He always wants to. I’m the one who always says no; we should wait. What we’re waiting for nobody knows. I’m just not ready."

"Then Asher will wait for you until you are ready. I don’t think Asher is the type to force anyone into anything they aren’t read for."

"I know he’s not and that’s what makes it so hard. If he was being a jerk about it maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to keep saying no. But I know how much he wants to and I know he knows how much I don’t want to and I know it hurts him."

"Is this the root of your problem with the apartment?"

"I don’t know. Maybe I’m just commitment phobic."

"Well, you have good reason to be. You grew up in a family without any love between your parents so you haven’t had the best role models to base your ideas of relationships on. You’ve lost a lot of people who have been close to you. There’re probably a lot of issues you need to work through. Maybe you should think about going back to your counselor."

I had gone to a counselor for quite a while after my stabbing and the murders. I had been suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder among other things. He’d been a huge help to me at the time but I’d stopped seeing him a few months back. "Maybe so," I agreed, "I certainly seem to be nuts enough to need to go back."

"Killian, you’re not nuts. You just need to talk to somebody and work through some things. Everybody has doubts and fears in their relationships. That’s normal. You just can’t let them paralyze you. Being in a relationship is about taking risks. You have to do what you feel is right in your heart. If you really love Asher you won’t give up that easily." He ruffled my hair and started for the door. "Oh, and Killian, when you’re up to it maybe you should talk to Adam, huh?"

I nodded and he closed the door behind himself. I was engrossed in following the progress of a small spider across my ceiling when the phone began to ring. I instinctively moved to answer it before I remembered that Adam and Steve were home. Let them answer it, I thought, and went back to tracking my eight-legged friend. He hadn’t even reached the light fixture before Adam yelled up that the phone was for me.

I heaved myself up and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

I heard the downstairs extension hang up and then a voice I didn’t recognize spoke, "Killian?"

"Yeah?"

"You don’t know who this is do you?"

I hesitated, "Not really."

"Well, I guess it has been a while." The guy on the other end sounded disappointed.

Something clicked in my head, "Jake?"

"You did remember!" his now deeper voice filled with pleasure.

"Like I could forget you," I said with a grin.

"It’s been a long time."

"Not that long. What’s up?"

"Guess what?"

"Um…you’re moving back here?"

"What…? How’d you know?"

"Judy, I mean your mom called Asher’s mom today. I was over there earlier and heard then."

"Darn, I wanted to surprise you."

"Well you did. I wasn’t expecting you to call. When are you moving?"

"Soon I think. Like as soon as Mom finds a place for us to rent. Everything’s ready on this end. School is out next week so that’s not a problem."

"I thought you wanted to get away from this area? What changed?"

"You know how they say time heals all wounds?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I guess it’s true. I needed some time to heal, and it was nice to do that where I was constantly being reminded of…you know. But I’m feeling a lot better now and as great as the Pacific is, I just keep missing the Atlantic. And Mom says she misses the area too, it’s where she grew up after all."

"That’s great, Jake. I can’t wait to see you."

"I can’t wait to see you either. Are you and Asher still…?"

"Yeah," I said slowly. I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. Jake and had come very close to dating once. He’d tried his hardest to steal me away from Asher and almost succeeded.

"Oh. That’s cool. I was just checking."

Great, I thought, just what Asher and I need right now.

"Well Mom’s saying I have to get off now. I guess I’ll see you soon."

"Ok, and tell your mom I said hi."

"Ok, bye Killian."

"Bye, Jake."

We hung up and I stood staring at the phone for a minute. Was Jake still carrying a torch for me? And if so how did I feel about that? I shook my head as if to clear that line of questions. My hand was still on the phone when it started ringing so I just picked it up.

"That was fast. What were you doing, sitting on the phone?" Asher said.

"I just hung up. Jake called."

"Oh. Yeah, it was busy when I tried a minute ago. What did Jake want?"

Was it my imagination or did Asher sound a little jealous? He knew all about my history with Jake but he’d never shown a jealous streak before.

"He just wanted to make sure I knew he was moving back," I told him.

"Oh…ok…well…"

"Did you call for a reason or were you just checking up on me?"

"Checking up on you? I’m not…"

"Never mind. I’m sorry."

"I was calling because somebody just called me."

"Who?"

"Caleb."

"Who?"

"Caleb? The kid from the internet?"

"Oh yeah, the abused kid."

"Yeah."

"What did he say?

"Get this; his dad told the investigators that Caleb attacked him, that it was self-defense. And they bought it. Caleb is in some sort of juvie jail right now for assault."

"Well how do you know that isn’t true? Maybe Caleb is lying to you."

"Oh come on, why would he lie to me? What would he have to gain from that? Besides, Caleb is little, like smaller than Will little, and his dad is huge."

"Have you met them?"

"No…"

"Then how do you know any of that? It’s just what Caleb has told you. There are a lot of nut cases out there, Ash, people who make up stories just for the thrill of it."

"Well I don’t buy that. He’s a really nice kid. He doesn’t deserve this."

"If he’s innocent then the police or whoever will figure it out. That’s their job. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Geez, Killian. What’s wrong with you? Don’t you have any feelings?"

"I dunno," I mumbled, "I’ve been like this all day. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just tired. I think I’ll go to bed early tonight."

"Good idea. I hope you get up on the right side of the bed tomorrow."

* * *

I did feel better the next morning. I woke up to a bright sunshine and I found myself in a better frame of mind. I was eager to see Will and the baby again. He called mid-morning and said the doctor had given them the go-ahead and they’d be released at noon. By the time Asher and I parked Adam’s jeep in the hospital loading zone though, the sky had turned into a forbidding dark gray and huge storm clouds held a promise of rain. Great weather to take a baby home in.

Will was waiting for us when we got inside. He had a small mountain of supplies the hospital had given him and Darin lie sleeping in a carrier that would clip into the car seat. Asher took the car seat down to strap into the car while I helped Will gather everything together.

"Can we make one stop before we go home?" he asked me.

"Sure. Where at?"

"The cemetery/"

"What?" I said thinking I had misheard.

"The cemetery, where my dad and Joey are buried."

"It’s, uh, looking kind of stormy out there, Will. Maybe that should wait…"

"I won’t be long. It’s something I need to do. Please?"

"Ok," I agreed reluctantly.

The expression on Asher’s face when I told him we were stopping at a graveyard was worth framing. He didn’t argue though, I guess he knew Will better than I did.

We drove to the cemetery following Will’s directions and I parked on the narrow drive that would its way through the rows of headstones, crypts and monuments. Will lifted the sleeping baby out of his seat and climbed carefully out of the car. Will handled Darin like he was made of spun glass, situating him gently in his arms, then started out across the grass.

"Don’t you think this is just the slightest bit odd?" I asked Asher, "A little morbid maybe?"

"Why? I think it’s healthy. He’s saying goodbye to his dad and Joey with Darin there. It’s a way of letting go of the past and looking to the future."

"Thank you, Dr. Asher, but who he really needs to say goodbye to is Aidan."

"You don’t think he has?"

"No, I don’t."

"Well, maybe this will help him do that."

"I hope so." I watched as Will moved away from one stone and started back across the cemetery to another.

"It’s starting to rain," Asher said as the first few drops hit the windshield.

"Another brilliant observation from the eminent Dr. Asher," I teased.

"Bite me," he said good-naturedly.

"When and where?" I shot back.

"Right now and anywhere you want."

I leaned over and playfully bit him lightly on the arm. He tried to bite me back and we ended up in a short wrestling match that ended with a kiss. We jumped apart when the back door swung open.

"I can’t leave you too alone for one minute," Will joked as he ducked inside. "Do you think you can knock it off in front of my kid though?"

"His baby seat faces backwards," I said in mock seriousness, "He can’t see anything."

"But I can," Will said.

"Are you ok?" Asher asked.

"Yeah I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?"

Asher motioned towards the graveyard.

"Oh that. I’m fine, really. Let’s go, Darin’s getting fussy. It’s time for his feeding."

I started the car and we left the cemetery behind. After we got Will and Darin settled in at home, Asher and I left.

"Hey, can we go check a few more apartment buildings?" he asked as I pulled out onto the street.

"I thought we’d found one we liked."

"We did but we haven’t seen all of them yet, so maybe we’ll find one we like more."

I sighed, "Where to?"

"You still don’t want to do this do you?"

"Don’t start," I said wearily, "It’s not that. I had a fight with Adam last night about moving out."

"What kind of fight?"

"Well, fight might be an exaggeration. He just freaked out when I told him we were looking at apartments."

"Why would he freak out about that?"

"Steve said it’s because it’s hard for him to let go. And I just kind of sprung it on him."

"Sprung it on him? You mean he wasn’t expecting it?"

"No, I guess not." I looked over at Asher. He was frowning back at me. "What?"

"What is with you guys? I mean my parents expect me to get out on my own."

"You have to remember that Adam lost Seth, so it’s different for him."

"Yeah, but you’re not Seth."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means you’re not…"

He was cut off mid-sentence by a sickening crunch and a gut-wrenching jolt. Before I could react the air bag exploded into my face. We’d had an accident while I was distracted.

I fought the air bag down with a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. Obviously I had run into something, but with this stupid thing in my face I didn’t know what. A rusty old Buick loomed into view and my first thought was that I couldn’t have caused too much damage to that tank. I had a feeling that my little VW Bug had faired much worse.

"Are you ok?" I asked Asher.

He was rubbing his elbow but looked fine at first glance. "Yeah," he said somewhat shakily, "What happened?"

"I hit somebody. I’d better go see if they’re ok."

I scrambled out of my car to find the Buick’s owner inspecting the damage. He was in his late-fifties, early-sixties with battleship gray hair and a clean-shaven face. Judging by his hairstyle and state of extreme physical fitness I guessed he was probably retired military or a cop.

"Are you ok?" I asked him.

He looked up at me from behind dark mirrored sunglasses and I decided it was definitely a cop. Just my luck.

"I’m fine. Wish I could say the same for Bessie."

"Bessie?" I said, the feeling of dread jumped up a few notches on the stress scale.

"Bessie," he said with slow deliberation, "was my trusted companion for 20 years. We’ve been through a lot together, but I’m afraid she’s gone now."

"B-b-because of me?" I stuttered.

"Well it sure as hell wasn’t my fault you slammed into the back of me. Bessie, by the way, is, or rather was, my car."

"You’re car," I said with much relief.

"Yes, my car. I’m assuming you have insurance on your little toy car there."

"Yes sir, I do," I said and dove back into the car. Asher had my insurance paperwork ready and waiting. "He scares the piss out of me," I whispered to Asher before taking a deep breath and climbing back out.

He was waiting for me with a card in his hand, which he handed to me in exchange for my information.

Printed on the card in neat embossed letters was: "Shane Novak, Private Investigator." A phone number was printed under that.

"You’re a private detective?" I said. I was unable to keep the note of awe out of my voice.

Novak gave a grunt, "Retired police detective," he said as he copied my insurance information into a 3x5 index card, "I left active duty 3 years ago and found out I wasn’t cut out to sit at home and tend the lawn. My wife died of cancer two years ago and I decided to open my own practice. I only take the cases I want to take and I stay busy. It’s not like it is on TV though." He straightened up and looked me over from head to toe. "So you’re the famous Killian Kendall, huh?"

"Famous?"

"You’re the kid that shot and killed that serial killer a couple years back aren’t you?"

"Yeah," I said in surprise. I wasn’t used to being recognized on the street.

"I was following that whole story at the time. Interesting case. You handled yourself pretty well for an amateur. Took that scum out like a pro from what I heard."

"Uh, thanks," I said, unsure of what the proper protocol was when someone compliments you on killing another person.

"I wrote my insurance info on the back of my card there," he said as he handed me back my cards, "Get in touch with your people and they’ll take it from there. It was a pleasure getting rear-ended by you, Mr. Kendall." He pumped my hand once and climbed back into his car. It started up with an asthmatic wheeze and he rolled the window down, "If you need anything just call me. My number’s on the card I gave you."

I nodded dumbly and watched as he pulled away from my car with a metallic screech. He drove off leaving his bumper behind. Asher finally deigned to step out of the car once he was gone.

"Thanks for the moral support," I muttered as I dragged the abandoned bumper to the trunk of my car.

"I was offering support from in the car," Asher said as he rubbed his neck. "You know, I think you gave me whiplash."

"I gave you? It was just as much your fault as it was mine."

"How do you figure that? You were the one driving!"

"Let’s not argue anymore," I said with a sigh. I slammed the trunk down and climbed back in the car. Asher stood staring down at the crumpled front-"end of my car.

"Do you think it’ll start?" he asked.

"I don’t know but I’m about to try. Jump in."

"I think I’ll wait out here," he said nervously as he edged away, "What if it blows up?"

"Then God-forbid you should be in here with me," I grumbled to myself as I turned the key in the ignition. The engine gave a half-hearted sputter and died out. I tried again with the same result. It coughed grudgingly to life on the third try, although it was far from smooth running.

Asher climbed back in once it was clear that I wasn’t going to go up in a mushroom cloud, and I pulled away with a lurch and a rattle. The drive back was tense and quiet, except for the painful groans of protest from my beleaguered car. Our earlier fight, obviously unresolved, hung heavy in the air between us.

Marcus was outside when I pulled into the Davis’ driveway. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open comically when he caught sight of my battered bug.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked as Asher climbed gratefully out of the car.

"We ran into the back of some poor guy," Asher said with a meaningful glance in my direction, then added, "Nobody got hurt."

"Except for the car," Marcus said looking over the damage.

Asher shrugged and started inside after an unenthusiastic wave in my direction. To my surprise Marcus slid into the passenger seat.

"Do you have a minute?" he asked.

"Sure, what’s up?"

"Look, maybe this is none of my business, but since Asher is my little brother and all, and you’re practically like my brother too. I mean you’ve been around the house since you were just a little kid, so maybe it is my business."

"Marcus," I interrupted, "it’s been a long day; so if you have a point can we skip right to it?"

"Yeah, sorry…well…I don’t know what’s going on with you and Asher right now but I can tell something is wrong. I’ve not seen him moping around like this since before you two got together, back when you were messing around with Jake. If this hadn’t started before we knew Jake was moving back I might have thought it was that, but it’s obviously something else."

"You’re right, something is wrong and I’m not sure what it is either. I don’t know if it’s me or Asher or both of us."

"I’m not asking what is wrong or whose fault it is. I wouldn’t have even brought it up at all, but…I don’t pretend to understand what you two have. I mean, pretty much my whole family has always been really cool with the whole gay thing, but to be really honest with you, it still weirds me out a little sometimes. But I love my brother and I know he loves you. You make him happy, or at least you always have. If you want to break up with Asher…"

"Marcus! I…"

"Let me finish. If you want to break up with Asher, just do it. Make it a quick, clean break so he can start getting over you. Don’t drag it out forever; you’ll just end up hurting him more. I hate seeing my family hurting and we’ve got enough going on right now with Bethany; we don’t need Asher running around looking like his dog just died. But if you don’t want to break up with him, then work it out quickly. Please."

I was speechless but luckily Marcus didn’t require an answer. Having said his piece, he ducked out of the car and ran inside without a backwards glance.

I drove home slowly while my mind turned over what Marcus had said. The truth was I had no idea what was happening between Asher and I, or what to do about it. It seemed like every time we tried to talk lately it turned into a fight. Was it some sub-conscious hang-up on my part or were there some serious faults in the bedrock of our relationship? Or were these emotional tremors that we were experiencing nothing more than the natural growing pains of a healthy couple? I was out of my depth and I knew it. I needed to talk to someone more experienced in relationships. It was time for a long conversation with Adam. I still owed him an apology anyway. More importantly though, I valued his advice, and right now I needed it more than ever.

* * *

My beat-up bug made quite a splash when I got home. Adam, Steve and Kane all came out to look at the crumpled front end of the car. Adam announced that it was probably totaled but that our insurance would cover it. He seemed more concerned with whether Asher and I were alright. It was after dinner that night before I got a chance to talk to Adam. When he and Steve started clearing the table, I volunteered to help with the dishes. A pointed look in Steve direction was all he needed to get the point. He challenged Kane to an N64 All-Star Baseball tournament and the two of them quickly cleared out of the room, leaving just Adam and I. Adam ran the sink full of hot soapy water while I gathered the dirty dinnerware together. We settled into an easy routine, him washing and me drying.

"Adam, I’m really sorry about last night," I said after a while.

"Yeah, I am too. I think we both overreacted."

"I know I did. It’s just that Asher and I have been having some problems lately and I guess I took it out on you."

"And you think moving in together will solve your problems?"

"Well, actually, moving in together is part of the problem."

"What do you mean? What is the problem exactly?"

"I wish I knew. Maybe I’m just commitment phobic. Ever since Asher brought up our living together it seems like it’s just been one fight after another. And nothing ever gets resolved."

"So it started when the idea of moving in together came up?"

"Well, not exactly. That’s just what brought it to a head. We’ve also never…uh… um…consummated our relationship." I felt my face heat up in a furious blush.

"You mean you’ve never had sex," Adam stated calmly.

"Yeah, that."

"Was that a mutual decision?"

"Yeah, well sort of…no, not exactly. Asher would have liked to a long time ago, but I’ve just not felt ready. And then it just became sort of like…a habit not to have sex."

"A habit?" he said with raised eyebrows.

"You know what I mean. We just got used to not having sex. Or at least I thought we did."

"But now you’re not sure?"

"I think maybe there’s something wrong with me. I mean why don’t I want to have sex with Asher? Maybe I’m straight and I just don’t know it."

Adam laughed and then quickly became serious again. "Killian, you would know it of you were straight. You have feelings for Asher don’t you?"

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes, I do."

"Romantically?"

"Yes."

"Do you have feelings towards girls?"

"Not at all."

"Then you’re not straight."

"Then what’s the problem? Is there something wrong with our relationship? Why am I so scared to sleep with him? Or move in with him?"

"Killian, you’re only 17. You’re still a kid, even though I know you don’t want to hear that. You’re both still kids. You started dating young, you’ve never even dated other people, either of you. Maybe this relationship isn’t right for you. Or maybe you just have issues you haven’t dealt with. You came from a home where things were distant and impersonal for most of your childhood. Then later everything fell apart, so maybe you are scared of making a commitment because you’re afraid that you’ll lose him or you’ll fail to live up to your side of the bargain. Maybe you’re just scared of change because you like things the way they are now and you don’t want to ruin it.

I don’t know. These are things you’ll have to figure out for yourself, although I’ll help as much as I can. Maybe you should think about going back to Dr. Ottinger for a little while."

Dr. Ottinger was the counselor I had gone too after the shooting. I didn’t like going back, it felt like I was regressing, but maybe it was a good idea.

"Or maybe you and Asher just need a break," Adam added.

"A break?"

"Some time apart, to let you both sort out your feelings."

"You mean break-up?"

"No, I don’t mean break-up, unless that what you want to do. I just mean take a little time off, take a few steps back and get some perspective."

"Marcus told me to break up with Asher today."

"Marcus? Asher’s brother? Why would he say that?"

"Well, he said that if I was going to break up with him to do it fast and get it over with."

"That’s not quite the same thing. Do you want to break up with Asher?"

I didn’t answer right away. "I don’t know," I said at last, "I don’t think so, but I’m not as sure as I’d like to be."

"Well you don’t have to know tonight. But don’t put it off too long or things will just get messier than they already are."

* * *

I spent a restless night tossing and turning as sleep eluded me. My mind refused to let me relax as it poked and prodded at the idea of breaking up with Asher. I finally gave up the fight when the first light of dawn began to brighten the sky. I rolled out of bed and padded softly down the stairs. I was surprised to find Steve in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee.

"What are you doing up this early?" he asked. He seemed equally surprised to see me at that time of the morning.

"Couldn’t sleep," I said, "You always get up this early?"

"Most days. I enjoy the quiet time, before the rest of the world wakes up."

I dropped into a chair across from him and laid my head on my crossed arms.

"Adam said you two had a good talk last night."

"I guess."

"You guess?"

"Well, we cleared the air between us but I still don’t know what to do about Asher."

"You didn’t expect Adam to tell you what to do, did you?"

"It would have been nice."

"We both know this is your decision and your decision only. Is that why you couldn’t sleep, you were up worrying all night?"

"Yeah."

"You can’t let this consume you, Killian. You need to get your mind off the whole situation for a while. What are your plans for today?"

"I don’t have any."

"Great! Why don’t you come with me then?"

"I don’t know. Where are you going?"

"I’ve been thinking about getting out of the architect business. I’ve been in it for too long and I feel like I’ve accomplished all I can there. I guess you could say I’m having a mid-life crisis of sorts. It’s always been a dream of mine to own and operate a bed and breakfast. I talked to Adam about it and as usual he supports me. He said to go for it and he’ll be behind me one hundred percent. I started doing some inquiries and I found out there’s a great place available right now so I’m supposed to go today and take a look at it. Adam’s running on a deadline so he can’t go with me so I’d love the company and second opinion. Want to come?"

"Wait, wait, wait…slow down. Try to remember I didn’t sleep last night. You’re thinking about buying a bed and breakfast?"

"No, I’m thinking about buying a house and turning it into a B & B."

"Won’t that cost a lot of money?"

"Oh yeah."

"You have that kind of money?"

I inherited a hefty sum and I’ve made good money as an architect. I’ve invested and saved and I think I have what I need to get started. If I run into any snags I have good credit and I can get a new business loan."

"So you’re really going to buy this house?"

"The one I’m seeing today? Well I don’t know yet. I haven’t even looked at it yet. So, would you like to go with me?"

"I might not be very good company," I warned.

"What’s new?"

"Ha ha, very funny."

"I’ll take that as a yes. You can sleep on the way the way there; it’s about an hour away."

"Where is it?"

"It’s a small town named Chicone, on Chicone Creek."

"Excuse me? What language are you speaking?"

"I think it’s Nanticoke. They’re all Indian names and as far as I know they were the only Native Americans in that area."

"Will we…I mean, will you be moving there?"

"If I buy the place, yes. I’m going to go for my daily walk now. I’m supposed to meet the real estate agent at the house at ten sharp, so be ready at eight-thirty."

"Will do."

He drained his coffee and rinsed the mug out in the sink, then, ruffling my hair on his way out, he left for his walk. I must have fallen asleep at the table because the next thing I knew I woke in a puddle of drool to the sound of Adam banging pots around on the stove.

"What time is it?" I asked, blinking away the sleep from my eyes.

"Quarter after eight. Why?"

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed as shot up from the table, sending my chair tumbling in the process. I righted the chair and ran out of the kitchen as Adam stared after me as if I’d lost my mind.

I showered and dressed in record time and was waiting by the car when Steve came out of the house at precisely eight-thirty.

"I would have waited for you, you know?" he said with a grin.

"Don’t wanna make you late," I said with a shrug and a grin of my own.

I did sleep on the way there. Between my nap at the kitchen table and my snooze in the car, I thought I might just make up for my sleepless night. I woke up when the car came to a stop and the engine died. I was confused at first until I remember where I was and why I was there. I felt my mouth drop open as I got my first look at the property Steve was considering.

"Holy shit," I said in awe, "This is the house you’re thinking about buying?"

We were parked in front of an enormous hulk of a house that looked like it came straight out of a Home and Country Magazine. Calling it a house was rather like calling the Atlantic Ocean a puddle. It would more accurately be called a mansion. It towered three stories above us, not counting the odd little cupola that sat perched jauntily on the roof. It had a wrap-around porch and gingerbread trim practically dripped from every edge.

The grounds themselves were spectacular. The jade-green lawn, dotted liberally with elegant old trees, sloped gently down to the banks of a peaceful looking creek, presumably the Chicone.

"It’s a possibility," Steve said calmly, "It makes a nice first impression, doesn’t it?"

"You can afford this place?"

"Like I said, I inherited quite a bit. Not that there will be much left over afterwards."

"But this place must cost at least a million bucks!"

"That would be a bargain," he said dryly.

"You mean I’ve been living with a millionaire all this time and I didn’t even know it?"

"Apparently."

"Does Adam know?"

He laughed, "Of course Adam knows."

"Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?"

"You never asked."

Our discussion was cut short as a black Jaguar pulled up behind us and leggy blonde unfolded herself from the driver’s seat.

"That must be Victoria," Steve said, "I talked to her on the phone; she’s the agent."

We climbed out of the car and it did turn out to be Victoria the Agent. After a round of introductions, Victoria swept her arm around in an all-encompassing gesture.

"So what do you think?"

"It looks grand from the outside," Steve said cautiously.

"Well, it looks just as great from the inside. Come on, I’ll show you around the house first, then I’ll give a quick tour of the yard."

We followed her up the broad stairs onto the wrap-around porch. The front door was a massive, deep-set paneled oak affair with a leaded-glass insert. On either side of the door were narrow sidelights of the same leaded-glass. Above the door was a transom of stained glass.

"The house was finished in 1860, although it was started almost a decade before that," Victoria said launching into her prepared speech, "It’s quite an architectural treasure."

She swung the door open to reveal a beautiful foyer. The hardwood floors gleamed with a patina that only a century of use could create. On the right side a wide staircase with an intricately carved balustrade rose gracefully to the second floor. We stepped inside and I immediately smelled the musty, yet pleasant scent that all old houses seem to have. We had barely cleared the door before it swung to with a loud bang, seemingly of its own accord. We all jumped and Victoria looked a little shaky.

"These old houses can be a bit drafty," she said in a falsely bright voice. I looked over at Steve who had a slight smile playing around his lips.

"The house’s original owner was Captain Elijah Marnien. He was a successful shipping magnate who married a much younger lady named Amalie. This house was built specifically for her and he named the plantation Munquisock, which is the Nanticoke Indian’s name for blackberries and was reportedly the native’s name for the area. They moved into the house long before it was finished. Tragically, Captain Marnien was lost at sea shortly after the house was completed. Amalie never remarried and never had any children. She lived here alone for about a year before she passed away, some said of a broken heart." Victoria’s tour guide nspiel was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a door slamming upstairs, followed by the sound of soft footsteps.

"Is someone else here?" I asked.

Victoria’s face fell, "Yes and no," she said with a sigh, "I was trying to avoid mentioning it but it never fails. This house has been on the market for months now, we’ve lowered the price over and over but we just can’t get a sale."

"Why?" I pressed.

"The house is haunted," Steve answered.

Continued

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