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blonde was a match for my mother, who looked young
enough to be her daughter s sister. I was pretty pleased
that Roger was not in attendance, but I would have liked
to have a few moments with him. Shannon and I may
have been at odds just then, but she is my sister, and no
guy was going to marry her without talking to me first.
"Shannon, stop kicking your brother."
She rolled her eyes and forked a piece of broccoli,
shoving it in her mouth.
"So." Connor leaned into me. "How are you planning
on filling your time now that O Bryan has you off that
case?"
"I was planning on taking up another hobby, maybe
bird watching." I handed him the potatoes. "I have a
ballet recital to attend tomorrow, but my calendar is
otherwise free. Why?"
"I have a fishing trip planned, thought you might
want to come along."
"Fishing?"
"Yeah. You could use the fresh air. Talk to your
captain; I m leaving on Tuesday."
"I ll think about it."
Dinner carried on much as it always did, there was
the inevitable argument about something ridiculous --
this time it was between Shannon and me. I put Roger in
The Hanged Man's Ghost - 82
the ridiculous column out of dislike.
I went home a bit later than I would have liked, but
sober. The whole one day at a time thing was best
served by finding things to do. I was tired when I got
home, but as I entered my bedroom, I discovered I
wouldn t be getting to bed just yet.
There was a boy in my room, and I was certain he
was not alive. He stood next to the window, dark eyes
staring at me. His skull was misshapen, and didn t want
to think about how it got that way.
"I didn t jump," he whispered. "They said I jumped,
but I didn t. You have to get justice for me. Find my
killer."
"Who are you?"
"Eddie Bailey." He stepped closer to me. "Your
brother was suspicious, but he closed my case anyway.
Please& you saw it. The thing. Save me."
"I don t understand."
"Save me." He shuddered. "Save me." And he was
gone.
Now, I was wide awake.
***
I didn t sleep that night. I went to the station and
looked into Eddie Bailey, but as the boy s ghost had
said, the case had been closed and labeled a suicide.
Connor must not have found anything out of the
ordinary beyond his suspicion. Which was strange in
and of itself. Connor's suspicions were generally on the
money. So the spirit/demon was killing people in two
ways: arranged murder and forced suicides. What was
the angle? If he just wanted to hurt me, what was the
point of killing people I barely knew? Sure, it pissed me
The Hanged Man's Ghost - 83
off. People were dying, and I was going to stop it
but& why? Why was this thing attacking people? What
was with the different MO s? And what the hell did any
of it have to do with me and my mysterious brother?
A quick check into some birth records had confirmed
the story the spirit had spouted. I d had another brother,
an older brother. A twin. Born three minutes before I
was. Michael Cain Adder.
His death certificate told me he died at fourteen,
which didn t explain why I didn t remember anything
about him, but there was a locked file I couldn t get at
and the public record didn t explain where he d been or
what was in those closed files.
Whatever had happened, my brother was dead, my
parents had kept his existence from me, and it was
entirely possible Shannon and Connor had kept that
secret as well. If Connor had, there was no better time to
ask him then that upcoming fishing trip. Even if some of
his buddies were there, Da wouldn t be.
I had to know what had happened to Michael. What
had happened between us.
And I had to attend Tara s recital.
I went home and showered, changed, and on the way
to the recital stopped at a florist s for roses. The recital
went well, I thought, though I m no judge of ballet
dancing. I clapped enthusiastically for Tara, who
beamed a bright smile. She was dressed the part of a
fairy, and I thought she was the most precious little girl
I d ever seen.
I may be biased.
After the show, ignoring Cassie s glare, I gave Tara
the flowers and a kiss on the cheek. "You were
wonderful."
"Thank you for the roses." She hugged them tight.
The Hanged Man's Ghost - 84
"You re going to tell daddy all about it, right?"
"You bet." I smiled. "But describing it will never be
enough. He ll have to get better and come see you dance
himself."
She nodded. "I m glad you came, Uncle Fynn."
How could any person be melancholy in the face of
that smile? "Me too."
The Hanged Man's Ghost - 85
Chapter Eight: My Future s So Bright
The fishing trip was, to put it simply, a disaster. Not
one of those pseudo-disasters that people call disasters,
like breaking a nail or losing your favorite pen. No, this
disaster was of volcanic proportions.
It started out pleasantly enough. Connor and I left
early on Tuesday morning, before the sun was even up,
and drove out to the northern edge of Lake Michigan.
The family had a cabin there. We used to go all of the
time when I was a kid. Connor went there about once a
month to fish and get away from the city.
To be honest, I didn't really know one fish from the
other. We made it to the cabin before lunch, and Connor
graced me with one of his famous omelets, famous for
being the only thing Connor could cook. I was the same
way with pancakes. Together we could manage a decent
breakfast.
I put on a pot of coffee once we were unpacked, and
the two of us sat down for the first meal we'd had alone
together since I was in college and Connor made a point
of having lunch with once a week with me to reassure
my parents I wasn't on drugs or sleeping with every guy
that winked at me.
Going to college at sixteen had been necessary. I'd
pushed to graduate early after a pretty embarrassing
incident involving me, the lacrosse captain, and
homecoming. It was the same drive that made me a good
cop -- when I wasn't seeing dead people or drunk off my
ass.
After lunch, Connor and I headed out on the lake in
the two-man motorboat we'd had since I was a kid.
Connor had replaced parts now and again, but it was
essentially the same old boat.
The Hanged Man's Ghost - 86
Connor baited the lines, and we settled in for a day
on the water. Me slathered in sunscreen with a Bears cap
pulled down over my nose and Connor with a couple
beers. He had put some sodas in the cooler for me.
"So, Fynn, how are you holding up?"
"I've been better," I replied.
"A lot's happened, no one would blame you for not
being okay."
If that wasn't the perfect opening... "Connor, you're
older than me, so you probably remember better than I
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