I snorted. “Because I’m not autistic?”
“Yes. I get away with stuff.” His lips twitched with almost a smile.
That was true. Pauley was autistic with savant qualities, and he used it to his advantage once in a while. “Well, I’m pretty,” I said slowly. “I could charm my way out of trouble.”
“You are not charming.” Pauley tilted his head a fraction, his expression thoughtful, even as he stared straight ahead. Then he held the bag out to me, barely shifting his weight to do so. “Though you are pretty.”
I grinned and took a handful. “Why aren’t I charming?”
“How should I know?” He moved the bag to his other side. “Charming people are smooth. You are not smooth. You are fun and lively and goofy. I like you better than charming.”
Everything inside me went gooey and warm. “Thank you.”
He almost shrugged. “Just telling the truth.” Then he paused. “Lacey was in a shootout in Detroit yesterday.”
I blinked. “What? I hadn’t heard that yet. Is she okay?” My heart kicked up several notches.
“Yes. I think she shot the other guy, but she is not giving full details yet.” Pauley shook out the bag so the bread bounced around.
While I’d become a lawyer to fight the bad guys, Lacey had gone ahead and become a cop. A pint sized one with a tough attitude. We video-conferenced at least once a week. I swallowed. “I wish she’d come home and get a job somewhere around here.” For some reason, she wanted big city experience first.
“Me too,” Pauley murmured. “Heard you got shot, too.”
“Barely,” I said, leaning cautiously back on my hands. The tabletop scraped my palms, but the wood was cool. “Aiden Devlin saved me.”
Pauley nodded. “I heard. No secrets if you’re from Silverville, even though it’s fifty miles away. Fifty miles. Fifty is a gold wedding anniversary. Fifty.” He quickly looked at me sideways for the first time since I sat down. Then he focused at something across the lake. “Is he good or bad now?”
So apparently news of Aiden’s incarceration had hit the streets. “I don’t know. In fact, I’m not sure what to do. I want to help him, but it might be my job to put him back in jail.” The words poured out of me before I could stop them, and I cut off abruptly. This was too intense for a sixteen-year-old to listen to. “Sorry. That sounded like a confession.”
Pauley threw more bread, his arm movement jerky. “I am not a priest,” he agreed.
Humor took me. “True. What do you think Father Hamlet would say?”
Pauley scratched his head, his profile pale. “Probably to follow the law. Though laws, like the bible, were written and interpreted by men. Good and bad go deeper than words on paper. Any paper.”
I stilled. Sometimes Pauley’s genius took me off guard, even though I’d known him his entire life. I had no doubt he’d do another year at the local college and then head off to Harvard or MIT or somewhere for geniuses. His social interactions were becoming pretty good, too. Sometimes I wished I could just get into his head and see how it all worked. From day one, Pauley had fascinated me. “Maybe I should help Aiden.” How? I just wasn’t sure.
Pauley flipped his wrist over to check his watch and then returned his focus to the birds. “If you do not know if Aiden is good or bad, you do not know whether to help him or not. Find out.”
I bit my lip. Clarice still hadn’t gotten back to me with any answers or more records, but there was one place I could go and try to get answers. It was probably a bad idea—definitely a bad idea—but when had that stopped me? “You’re right.” I hoped off the table. Everything inside me wanted to hug my cousin or at least give him a peck on the cheek, but that’s what I wanted and not what he needed. Like many folks on the spectrum, Pauley didn’t like being touched. “Thanks, P.”
He nodded, still not looking at me. “Thank you for checking on me. After class my mom is picking me up to go shopping for shoes before going home. Tell my sister that I am fine.”
I grinned. “You’ve got it. Have a nice rest of the day.”
He frowned. “History class is next. I already know what happened before now.”
Yeah. He probably did. “Well, if nothing else, you’ll learn that history repeats itself,” I joked.
He didn’t smile. Then he turned and looked at me, full on. Sometimes I forgot how deep and dark his brown eyes were since he rarely made eye contact. “Does it?” He broke his gaze free and looked back at the far shoreline.
The chill that swept over me had nothing to do with the breeze off the lake. “Apparently.” Because like it or not, Aiden Devlin was back, and danger was all around. Again.
Chapter 7
Ileft Pauley to his ducks, knowing he needed solitude before tackling a classroom with other people, but my walk to the courthouse was slow, my heels clipping softly on the sidewalk skirting the grassy park. Little green sprouts poked up between the cement, and the smell of both oncoming rain and spring flowers hinted on the breeze. Even though I’d been shot at the other day, those shooters had been after Aiden or Randy, so I couldn’t find it in me to be worried that it’d happen again. I had enough to be concerned about. I reached the outside of my building and looked up the flights of stairs to the heavy door.
The wind picked up. My phone dinged, and I answered it. “Albertini.”
