need you to think you can. I’d start with that.”
Billy didn’t respond, other than to take a deep breath and let it out. His eyes were still on the woods, like maybe the answers were out there somewhere.
“Hey, Keats?”
Someone had just called from the house. We both turned and I saw Obaje standing in the back door, holding up a phone.
“We’ve got Audrey Gruss on the line?” he said, and Billy turned to go inside. A second later, he was gone.
I knew he’d pull through this, one way or another, but it was hard to watch him struggle. And my little two-cent offering didn’t seem to be worth much more than just that.
Maybe I should have quoted Winston Churchill instead of my mother, I thought. Churchill was the one who said, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.”
Because that’s exactly what Billy needed to do. And really, there wasn’t any other choice.
CHAPTER 44
KEATS CUT THE team in half at the end of the day. He sent two people back to Boston and put Obaje on a commercial flight to DC, to go meet with the Bureau’s Special Crimes Division. The rest of us checked into a Ramada and kept on working.
By midnight, I was holed up in my room, running scans through my laptop, with Jimmy Fallon on mute while I texted A.A. and picked at a chicken salad from the Chili’s next door. Nothing like a little late-night multitasking.
How it goes, Piglet?
Kicking my ass to be honest.
I miss you. MIT’s not the same … :-(
You too, Pooh. We have to hang when I’m back.
YES
You need to get a bike so we can hit some trails
Hello? I don’t DO bike, remember?
You’d love it
Sorry, can’t hear you … going into a tunnel …
:-)
Just then, another message popped in. This one was from Keats.
You up? he asked.
I’m always up, I sent back. What do you need?
Right away, a soft knock came at my door.
Of course, I thought. Billy never stopped working, either. I walked over and looked at him through the peephole.
I assumed this had something to do with work, but I’d have been lying if I said it was the only thing that crossed my mind just then. What can I say? It’s not like Billy Keats’s good looks had an off switch.
Be right there, I texted. I’m all the way on the other side of this ENORMOUS ROOM.
I watched him read it and smile. Then I opened the door.
“What’s up? Did something happen?” I asked. “I can be ready to go in just a sec—”
“Nah,” Billy said. “Nothing like that. I just never got a chance to thank you.”
“For what?” I asked. I honestly didn’t know.
“For this afternoon,” he said. “It’s been a rough one, obviously. I don’t like to make a habit of losing my shit. But I really appreciated what you said.”
I was almost embarrassed. Billy had done so much for me, and this seemed like the tiniest possible thing in comparison.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m glad if it helped. I felt kind of corny, if you want to know the truth.”
“Oh, it was corny, all right,” he said with the same kind of soft sarcasm he always gave me when he was busting my chops. “Still, it helped. And um … just … thanks,” he added.
“You’re welcome,” I said. I was genuinely glad to know that I hadn’t been a total goofball with him, and even more, that I’d been able to help on that level. For that matter, my own mother had a tendency to be corny and insightful at the same time. That must be where I got it.
Meanwhile, Billy was still standing there.
“So, anyway …” he said.
He pressed his lips into a tight smile and looked at the ground. I thought there was more coming, but the silence just kind of hung between us.
That’s when I realized the subject had just changed—or was about to—and that maybe I wasn’t the only one having “thoughts” just then. Maybe, just maybe, Billy Keats had come to my room with more than one thing in mind.
It had been a while since I’d been with anyone. Too long, if I’m telling the truth. And it wasn’t like I’d gone out looking for him. Not this time, anyway. He’d come to me.
It was cute, actually, watching him stand there in my doorway now, shifting on his feet and trying to come up with the right thing to say. Or maybe he was trying not to say it,