Page 57 of Delivery After Dark
“I don’t know. He’s always been trying to figure himself out and never seeming to succeed.”
“He had a beautiful wife and daughter that he treated like shit, from what I’ve heard.”
“It’s true. He did, and I told him that was totally lame. But I can’t turn my back on more than twenty years of friendship because I don’t approve of how he handled his breakup. That’s none of my business.”
“Dad was right about him,” Morgan had said. “He’s trouble, and you should keep your distance.”
“I only hang out with him once in a while. Don’t worry about it.”
Morgan wished he’d pushed the point harder that Jim was bad news and Billy ought to keep his distance from the guy and all the trouble that seemed to follow him since he’d blown up his life in spectacular fashion.
Maybe if he had, Billy wouldn’t be dead. He assumed Jim had been the one to suggest they ride it out on the boat, because Morgan couldn’t see Billy coming up with that idea on his own. He’d bet his own life there’d been alcohol involved in their decision-making.
After they’d lost their dad, sister and mother in the span of five years, Billy, the fitness guy, had started to drink more than he ever had before. Morgan wouldn’t have said he had a problem with it, but in recent years, he’d been uncomfortable the few times he’d seen Billy drunk.
Who knew what went on when Morgan wasn’t around? Maybe it had become a problem. If so, Billy had done a good job of hiding it from him.
He’d probably never know what went down that night since Billy’s phone—and presumably Jim’s—had been lost in the storm.
On the desk, he found a note in Billy’s distinctive handwriting. Call Clare about going out on Saturday night, along with a phone number. Morgan studied the number for a second, debating whether he should call it to find out who she was and what she might know about his brother’s final days.
He made the call and listened to it ring until her voice mail picked up. “This is Clare Reynolds. I can’t take your call right now, but leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. If you’re looking for an update on your child’s progress in class, you can also send an email to my school address.”
So Billy had been dating a teacher? Interesting.
“Hi, Clare, this is Billy Weyland’s brother, Morgan. I found your name and number on his desk at the gym and figured I’d call you to say, well… I don’t know. If you were seeing him, you might know what he was doing on a boat in the Salt Pond that night. Anyway, if you can, give me a call back.” He recited his phone number, even though she’d have it in her recent calls. “Thank you.”
He went back to sorting the mess on the desk, tossing anything that wasn’t a bill that needed to be paid or something that looked important. After two hours of sorting and tossing, he had uncovered the desk and was working his way through an equally chaotic filing cabinet.
When his phone rang with a local number, he took the call. “This is Morgan.”
“Hi there, this is Clare. I got your message.”
“Thanks for calling me back.”
“I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you. I… I’m so very sorry for your loss. Billy… He talked about you a lot. He loved you very much.”
“That’s nice of you to say. Did you know him well?”
“We were getting there. We’d been out five or six times and… I was devastated by his death.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. I am, too. He was a special person. I’m very sad to have lost him.”
“Do you know why he was on the boat during the storm?”
“He didn’t say anything to me about going to the boat. I couldn’t believe it when I heard he was out there in the storm.”
“Likewise.”
“I’m sorry I don’t have more information for you.”
“No worries. I appreciate you getting back to me. Take care of yourself.”
“You do the same.”
After he ended the call, he sat staring at the wall for a long time, thinking about the many people impacted by Billy’s death.
