Purpose (33 page)

Startled, the man seated in back opened the door and got out. “That was what we needed. Thank you.”

“Remember our deal.” Will turned to leave, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“I’m sorry. For what that is worth, I am. Had I known what Barrington was doing, I’d have stopped him. Your friend should never have been dragged into this.” He didn’t need to read the man’s thoughts to know he was sincere. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”

“No.” He considered leaving, but if he was going to have to deal with this man again, it required he say more. “Ryan’s death is painful enough. There is nothing I want from you or the bureau beyond Barrington being stripped of his position. If you send him to jail, so much the better.”

“The body would ensure he goes to jail for life. Without it….” He shrugged.

“I’m aware of the limitations of the criminal justice system.” Whether Barrington went to jail or not was immaterial. “So long as he is fired, I don’t care what else happens to him. I promised Ryan I wouldn’t kill him, and I don’t want to break my word. But if he—”

The director held up his hand. “You have my word he’ll be fired, and I intend to see him prosecuted, but he should stand trial for the death of your friend.”

“You’re not going to desecrate his body with an autopsy.” He needed to go. Ryan made him promise not to kill Barrington, but the desire didn’t fade with the arrest. “Just remember to keep your promise. You won’t like me if you don’t.”

The scowl that crossed his face for a moment amused Will. “Threats won’t be necessary. I’m nothing like agent Barrington.”

“I know, Director. I can read minds.” Hiding himself again, he walked away. The vengeance he wanted would never happen, but he’d keep his word to Ryan.

S
ITTING
on the bench in Dupont Circle, Will threw bread crumbs at the birds. Planning to leave everything except the money, his technology, and a few personal effects of his and Ryan’s, he had found the bread in the refrigerator before he left. Ryan didn’t believe in wasting food.

“You’re a good man, Daniel Griffin.” He looked around, wondering how things could have become so different in the three short days since he’d last said those words. “I never expected to say those words again, but they are still true.”

“I should have told you sooner.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over this. You had no hand in Barrington’s insanity.” At least, Griffin tried to help. “And I appreciate you not asking me to reconsider. You can tell your boss you asked and I refused.”

“Thanks.” sheepish grin quickly faded. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Will gave the man a wan smile. “Thank you for helping me get Barrington.”

“His stupidity cost Ryan his life and almost killed two agents. Dozens more were hurt for nothing.” There was anger in Griffin’s voice. “It needed to be done.”

“Still, without your help, it would have taken too long to get the director’s help.” Time he didn’t want to wait. “I would have killed Barrington, despite Ryan’s request. For that, I’ll always be grateful.”

Griffin nodded a few times. “Are you sure you can trust him?”

This time his smile was real as he tapped his head. “Yes.”

Griffin squinted before he caught on. “Oh yeah, that mind-reading thing.”

“Comes in handy sometimes.” Other times, it failed him.

“They also want me to ask you to reconsider turning over the body.”

“No.” Why wouldn’t they just let this go? “It wouldn’t change anything.”

“They could charge him with—”

“He’s not going to be charged no matter what.” He regretted how harsh his voice sounded. “Think about it. He had access to everything the bureau had on me. Do you think they’re going to have a trial and release that to the public?”

Griffin touched the side of his head. “Inside information?”

“No, I didn’t read that in the director’s mind.” It hadn’t been necessary for him to “know” it was true. “The funeral is tomorrow.”

“I know.” Griffin quickly turned to stare at his feet. “I asked the chief to let me handle the security since I was going anyway.”

Will hadn’t known that, but it wasn’t surprising. “Thank you. At least someone will be there for him.”

T
HE
funeral was short, almost an afterthought. A priest said a few words, nice words, even if they felt empty to Will. Sitting on top of the wooden slats over the open pit, the bronze casket looked so cold. Will shuddered when he remembered being like that: cold, unforgiving, uncaring.

Jake turned, and Will met his gaze. He saw how much Ryan’s death had affected their friend. Guilt made the sorrow worse. Jake beat himself up needlessly. Ryan had never stopped counting Jake as a friend. Will knew he needed to explain that on the ride back to campus.

When the priest finished, Will placed a rose on the casket. Jake and Griffin added theirs: a lover, a friend, and a good man. Quantity wasn’t as important as quality, and by that measure, Ryan was fortunate.

Hatred for Barrington seared Will’s soul, but it was cool compared to the fire of contempt that burned inside for Ryan’s family. Their refusal to come was a rejection of his life. They had claimed they had no son before they slammed down the phone. He almost made them hear his words, but he wanted to do it in person. Ryan deserved that much, and they didn’t deserve to be let off so easy.

Head bowed, he watched leaves swirl around his feet. The chill breeze reminded him of how cold the world could be. Different seasons, different decades, different men. Unlike David, Ryan at least knew what happened to him. He was the first to realize what he’d become. Hopefully, all future hosts would appreciate what Ryan had done for them.

Although the cemetery was closed for the ceremony, the grounds were ringed by police and FBI agents. The director made good on his word to help arrange a proper burial. All it took was a bit of money and the right connections.

Jake sobbed, and Will put his arm around his friend. Crying for the man he barely knew, Jake was a true friend. Standing still for a time, he waited until Jake pulled back and wiped his eyes to speak.

“Go on ahead.” He handed Jake the keys to his Porsche. “I need to speak to Detective Griffin.”

He watched the younger man, head bowed, walk toward the exit. An officer in plainclothes opened the gate and let him out.

“Thank the chief for the security.” He never looked at the detective.

“She still wants you to stay, you know.”

Will snorted softly. “Tell her ‘thank you’, but my answer is still the same.”

“Figured as much.” Griffin was smiling when Will finally turned in his direction. “But I can say I tried—again.”

This got a smile. “Yes, you can.”

He started to walk slowly toward the car. Twice, Griffin looked as if he was going to say something, but stopped. Will didn’t have to read his mind to know what he wanted to ask.

“You can ask, but I won’t tell you where I’m going.”

“That obvious, or did you read my mind?”

“The former.” Across the road on the far side of a small triangle of land, a black SUV with tinted windows idled quietly. He knew what they wanted, but they were going to be disappointed. “The director is watching. Guess there isn’t much important work to do in DC.”

Griffin remained quiet until they reached the gate. “You know they’ll just dig him up once you leave. The temptation will be too great.”

“The casket is empty.” He pulled his eyes away from the black vehicle and turned back to his companion. “I know why they really want the body. Feel free to tell them that they won’t get to run their tests.”

“That super brain of yours thinks of everything.”

“No, just common sense and an understanding of human curiosity.” He let the silence linger for a few moments. “This is good-bye, Daniel. If you need something, call or e-mail me.”

The detective snorted, shaking his head. “A technophile spirit. I think I’ve seen everything now.”

Will peered down his nose. “There are a lot of things about me that would still surprise you.”

“I’m sure there are.”

“Good-bye, Griffin.” He held out his hand, which the detective shook. “Be safe.”

April 11, 2010 Entry 39-30

S
OMEONE
died. An innocent. Someone who deserved better. This time there is no call for vengeance, no demand for retribution. I’ve done all I can to the guilty, but he’ll not suffer as he deserves.

Who is really the guilty? Part of me blames myself, though I know Ryan wouldn’t want that. I can’t stop thinking that if I had never retreated behind Gar, Barrington never would have tracked me. Gar was careful but not concerned. Ryan Posner would exist if not for that. Of course, I might have died without Gar, and Ryan’s Purpose would have ended up killing him.

I try to blame
Them
, but I can’t. You don’t blame the lion for killing the bison so it can eat. We’re the bison to
Their
lion. Makes it hard to eat meat anymore.

It feels different; it is different. When I buried David, I didn’t know what I was. Knowing doesn’t make it better, just different. When I hid behind Gar, I told myself it wasn’t me. No more. David deserved better than for me to forget. So does Ryan. I won’t do that again.

But I can’t pretend I’m still the same person
It
found forty years ago. Will, Gar, Ryan, they’re all gone. Time for something new, someone new. Thanks to Ryan, I understand better what I am and what I need to do. All future hosts will know. Ryan’s legacy to the future.

I don’t want to start over again now anymore than I did when David died. Forty years passed before I realized my mistake. Every day is new, every person is different. I have choices, even if I don’t want to make them. Ryan taught me that. The world should thank him.

This will be my last entry. I don’t need the journal anymore. I started it to help keep my sanity. It evolved into my last link to my humanity. Without that link, I don’t think Ryan could have reached me. For that, I’m grateful to my former self.

I should burn these pages, all of them, but there are things recorded here that shouldn’t be lost. Maybe once Tom reads this, he’ll understand what happened to his kid brother. Then again, he might not care after he reads what I’ve done.

Time to go. I have one more thing to do before I leave Will and that life behind. It won’t be pleasant, but it is necessary. Closure demands it, as does justice.

Someone died. An innocent. Someone who changed the world. Vengeance can never be satisfied.

W
ILL
stood outside the modest two-story house. They were inside. Did they care? Only one way to find out. Concealing himself, he silently entered. Seated in front of folding trays, picking at their food, the middle-aged couple ignored each other to watch television.

Their lack of interest in each other told him all he needed to know about their conduct toward their son. Cold, loveless, these people didn’t deserve a son like Ryan. Did they deserve to know what happened? Maybe not, but they were going to hear it anyway.

Removing the suggestion he wasn’t there didn’t make him “visible.” Jeopardy was on, how engaging. If this was the medium they understood, Will could use it.

“I’ll take children for $1000, Alex,” the television said. The couple exchanged confused looks. That wasn’t a category.

“He is buried in Historic Congressional Cemetery with no one to visit.”

The sound of a buzz drew their attention back to the screen.

“Who is Ryan Posner?”

Mrs. Posner gasped, while her husband squinted at the images.

“What the hell…?”

“Your son died to save someone he loved.” Will’s voice finally made them notice him.

Food and trays flew through the air, punctuated with a shrill scream.

“Who the hell are you?” Mr. Posner stood up, looking around.

“The man your son loved.”

“We don’t have a son.” Sneaking a look to his wife, Ryan’s father continued to cast his gaze about the room.

“That’s right, you don’t. He died three days ago.” Will touched the box on his hip. “Despite the fact you didn’t deserve it, he still loved you both. Your phone won’t work, Mrs. Posner. You can stop trying to call 911.”