The Devil of Echo Lake Read Online Free PDF Page A

it.
    On Monday evening they drove out to Montauk Point. Evan had a connection, through work, to the captain of the fireboat, and he had arranged to have the immediate family taken out on the boat at sunset to scatter the ashes at sea. It was what the man had wanted.
    Billy read a poem by Yeats. Evan poured the ashes into the wind. William Malhoney Sr., hadn’t been much for poetry but something about Yeats had resonated with his Irish blood. The old man had even memorized a few fragments just from returning to them over the years. Billy read “Into the Twilight.”
    Afterward, they went back to Evan and Sandy’s house for coffee and pie.
    “None for me,” the widow said, waving the coffee pot away. “It’ll just keep me up.”
    “Mom, I’ve made up a bed for you in the baby’s room,” Sandy said. “Evan and I would like you to stay here tonight. You’re not working tomorrow, right?”
    “No, my kids will have a substitute for the rest of the week. But Billy can drive me home. I fixed up his old room for him.”
    Evan stood and cleared the dirty pie plates. “Why don’t you both stay here tonight? Billy can sleep on the living room couch; it’s a convertible.”
    “It’s fine with me, Mom,” Billy said. “Then you can turn in as early as you like and I won’t have to wake you just to drive home.”
    “Alright then, I think I’ll go to bed now if we’re staying.” She rose and kissed her two boys goodnight. After kissing Billy’s cheek, she laid her cold fingers against it and said, “Thank you for coming all the way from Japan, Billy. It means a lot to me that you’re here.”
    He smiled faintly and said, “I didn’t, Mom.”
    Sandy led her mother-in-law to the baby’s room, leaving Billy and Evan alone at the table.
    Evan said, “What? What’s that look on your face mean?”
    Billy sighed. “I don’t know. She makes it sound like I’m a friend of the family. Like there was even a question of whether I’d come from California or Japan or Mars for that matter. She doesn’t have to thank me for it. Makes me feel like a creep.”
    “You’re upset because Mom thanked you?”
    “No. Just…. Shit, forget it. Forget I said anything.”
    “You must feel pretty guilty if it ruffles your feathers that Mom’s grateful to see you.”
    “Well, you know, Evan, only the Catholics can make you feel guilty by thanking you.”
    “Are you still on that soapbox?”
    “Come on, you know it’s true. We grew up in the same house. Hell, Mom used to bitch all the time about the guilt trips her mother laid on her.”
    “I thought you got all that bile out of your system on your first CD. You do know how to beat a dead horse. At Dad’s funeral, no less. Unbelievable.”
    “Evan, it’s just me and you in this kitchen, okay? It’s not Dad’s funeral. Forget I said anything. I didn’t come half way around the world to fight with you.”
    Evan snorted a short laugh, “So it is a big deal: half way around the world. You have to cancel any concerts?”
    “No. I didn’t mean… I just thought she meant… Let’s just drop it.”
    “Jeez, you’re really sensitive.”
    “Well, Dad just died. I’m supposed to be sensitive, right?”
    “You’re supposed to be paranoid like that? Somebody says ‘thanks for coming’ and you read accusation into it? How do you deal with the critics in the paper?”
    “I don’t read that stuff.”
    “Well that’s good, ‘cause I saw some pretty unkind words about your last disc in People magazine.”
    “ People isn’t exactly speaking to my demographic.”
    “Whatever.”
    “You’re jealous.”
    “Yeah, Billy, I’m jealous that I don’t get to live my life on buses and in rehab clinics.”
    “It’s the money, right?” Billy said. “Like when I bought the car for Dad. You didn’t have one nice thing to say about it.”
    “Well since you brought it up, what the hell was that anyway? You don’t hardly talk to the guy for five years and then you buy him