Page 92 of Haunted

“That isn’t what I—”

“That is exactly what you meant.” He isn’t angry. He’s tired. “You know how to stand beside people you think are capable. You stand in front of everybody else.” He shakes his head. “And you decided which one I was on the day my family died, and you have never gone back and looked at it since.”

“Because you’re the mission, Parker!”

He recoils. “What did you just call me?”

I want to take it all back, but I can’t. I stare at him. He stiffens.

“I am not Parker Bishop. I am not a victim. I was doing fine without you.” His voice trembles. “You’re the tank. You’d die for me. You’d kill for me. You’d take a taser to the chest and get up and do it again. But you can’t see me, not when it counts, because when it counts I stop being a person to you. I wanted a partner. And I finally get it—you can’t be both. Not because you won’t. Because whatever they did to you out there took out the part that could.”

“Yes! You are! You are Parker Bishop. I’m sorry it’s inconvenient to you. But fine. Let’s play that game. You’re Jonny Bishop now. Tell me then, where are you from? Where did you go to high school?”

“You know all this!”

“Do I? Really? You’re Jonny Bishop. You get to make it all up from scratch. Maybe it’s different. Do you like dogs, Jonny Bishop? What was your most embarrassing moment? Who was your first love?”

“You! It was always you!”

“Maybe as Jonny Bishop. But it sure wasn’t Parker who loved me. He couldn’t stand me.”

“I always loved you, Lance. And what does this matter? It’s just a name!”

“It’s not just a name. I loved Parker Bishop. And you erased him. Like he was never there. And I miss him.” My eyes prickle with tears. “I loved you when you were Parker Bishop and young and scared and I loved you when you were Jonny Bishop.”

“And scared,” he finishes. “When do I get to be somebody who saves himself?” he says. “Because I have been doing it since I was eighteen, and you have never once noticed.”

“You did it in India, where I couldn’t see it.” It’s out before I can stop that one either. “Do you know what I’ve had? A box in my father’s basement. That is what I have had of you for ten years, and you didn’t even know I had it. I needed you and I made myself settle for the guy who filled the gap you left. And he didn’t. He couldn’t, because he wasn’t you.”

We look at each other across the crack that’s opened in the floor between us.

I have to fix this. I know I can fix this. I just need a minute to get my feet back under me.

A knock at the door snaps the room back into focus. I dry my face fast; Jonny is the one who calls that it’s open.

Rex Harlow leans his head in. Golf shirt, visor pushed up. “Came as soon as I heard,” he says.

I’m on my feet before I’ve decided to be. “Sir. Mr. Harlow—this is Jonny Bishop, our speaker. Jonny, my boss. The Comptroller’s Office.”

Jonny stands too, steadier than I am. Harlow crosses the room and takes Jonny’s hand in both of his.

“You’re the one who found Alice, aren’t you?” He shakes his head. “She was a treasure. Unspeakable. And now this. Whatever you need from us, we make it right.”

Jonny visibly swallows and I don’t know what he’s going to say next. He looks long at my boss. “Thank you. Honestly, I just want to get back on the road and put all this behind me.” He withdraws his hands without shaking them.

Harlow nods, the very picture of an avuncular man. And I see it. He’s managing us. A speaker got attacked on university ground and he is here to make sure it doesn’t occur to that speaker to make it loud.

“Well, there’s plenty of pretty country to see in the meantime,” he says. “I’ve got a rental in Staunton. Lovely little town, easy drive from here. I know we couldn’t approve your airfare, but the least we can do is to get you out of town. I understand you do travel videos. There’s plenty here in Virginia you can talk about, if it helps.”

The wrinkle crosses Jonny’s face half a second before my stomach drops through the floor. He looks at me for a beat too long.

“Thank you,” Jonny says, and the note in it is all wrong.

“Let me go make sure the organizers are squared away. Quite a circus.” Harlow smiles and pats his shoulder on the way to the door. “Take care of yourself, son.”

His face tightens at the last word. “Goodbye,” he says.

He turns around slowly.