It wasn't technically breaking and entering.
Willie stepped through the open window, gently placing his feet on the carpeted floor. Halfway in and halfway out, he listened, frozen in place. He heard nothing but the ticking of the grandfather clock somewhere in the great house. After a moment, he relaxed and fully stepped inside Collinwood.
A very nice judge had given him the full definition of breaking and entering a few years ago. Well, a lot of years ago. He was just a kid who'd just discovered the lockpicking potential of a brick to a window. He liked the way glass tinkled when it shattered on the ground. Liked it enough to do it again and again.
Anyway, as for the breaking part, it could include the force used to push open an unlocked door. So that didn't really account for climbing some ivy to get to a ledge to jimmy open a second floor window. But, and this was a big but, as far as he knew, he still had an invitation to Collinwood.
And that made all the difference. Because it wasn't breaking if he just couldn't get anyone to answer the front door to let him in. Because it wasn't breaking if he just let himself in.
As for the entering part, again, he was entering a building that as far as he knew he was allowed to be inside. And he was entering with absolutely no intention to commit a crime. He was just getting his belongings. Legally, and angelically, getting his knapsack and tools.
Technically, no crime here.
He gently closed the window.
Well, that's how he'd argue in court at least. Though to be fair, opening his mouth in court hadn't ever gone well. It usually just ended up with him having a couple more years thrown onto his sentence.
Willie, again, stopped for a moment and listened. Nothing. He felt the shadow of an old, familiar smile twist his lips. The kind of smile he'd used to flash at Jason before doing something tragically dumb. He moved down the hall, walking toe to heel, stepping around where he remembered squeaky floorboards. He stopped before the door to what had been his room. Well, the room he'd been allowed to use. It was honestly the closest he'd had to a room of his own. Willie paused a moment more and listened. Nothing. Good. He reached for the doorknob.
"I thought you left town."
Willie whirled around.
And looked down.
David Collins stood there, hands in his pockets and chewing gum.
Willie mirrored him; took his hand off the doorknob and stuck his hands in his pockets too. Relaxed his posture. Stuck a dumb smile on his face. At least, he hoped it looked dumb rather than nervous.
"I did leave."
"But you came back."
"Yeah. Yeah, I forgot something."
"What did you forget?"
"Oh." Willie grabbed the doorknob behind him and stepped into the room. "Just a couple of things. Mind if I look for them?"
David followed him into the room with a sigh. "I guess not."
"That's real nice of you." Willie took a look around the room and felt his stomach twist. He wasn't sure why he hadn't expected this. The room was clean and tidy. No sign of his bag anywhere. Nothing. Like he never existed.
He began the process of looking in a few spots, under the bed, in the dresser. Still nothing.
"It's gone." Willie sighed. All his tools. All his clothes. Everything he owned in the world. Gone.
"What's gone?"
"My stuff." Willie shrugged.
"Oh, that." David hopped off the bed. "I know where your stuff is. That's easy."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Since David reminded Willie a little of himself as a kid, he asked: "What's your price?"
David seemed to think hard about this. "One thousand dollars." He finally blurted out.
Willie suppressed a laugh. "My stuff ain't worth that much."
"My services are." The kid had the makings of a shit-eating grin on his face.
So it was Willie's turn to think hard. "Okay, kid, that's pretty smart." He finally admitted. "So, I'll pay you a thousand but I'm going to need it on credit. I need some time to get the money, you know?"
David's gum fell out of his open mouth and onto the floor. He obviously hadn't thought his con would go this far.
But Willie was good at playing the stooge. He'd had a lot of experience.
Willie held out his hand to the kid. "Deal?"
"Sure!" David took his hand and shook it hard. "It's a deal."
"Alright, alright. Show me where my stuff is, huh?"
David led Willie out of the room and back into the hall. "Wow, a thousand dollars. Gosh!"
"What are you gonna buy?"
"I don't know."
They walked down the hall a little ways to another closed door. Jason's room. They were outside Jason's room. Why?
David looked up at Willie. "How much does a tank cost?"
"A bit more than a thousand dollars, but it's a start."
David nodded then opened the door to Jason's room.
"Why are we here, kid?"
"Because." David went to the closet, opened it, and began to wiggle a panel in the back. It came loose and David set it aside. He reached back into the darkness and pulled Willie's bag into the light.
"Here you go!" David puffed, lugging the heavy bag down in front of Willie.
It had been hidden. Jason had hid his things.
Willie knelt down and opened his bag. Judging by the look and the smell, it was definitely his. Everything was here. His clothes. His tools. His wallet. Willie touched his back pocket. He hadn't even realized that was missing.
"Thanks, kid." He murmured, closing up the bag and trying to get a grip on himself.
Jason had buried him. Told everyone he left town. And hid his belongings. He hid them really well.
Willie got to his feet, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He was caught off-balance by it, as though it didn't belong to him, as though he'd never carried its weight before.
"Say, aren't you up past your bedtime?" He asked David.
David looked away for the first time. A tell. "No, not really."
"I think you are."
"Maybe."
"Well." Willie moved to the door, letting David go into the hallway first then closing it behind them. "I won't tell if you won't tell."
The kid visibly relaxed and smiled. "Sure!"
"Great." Willie sighed. "Now, can you sneak me out the front door so I don't have to come in the window again?"
David led him down the hall again, back towards the main staircase. "The window?"
"Yeah."
"Which one?"
"The one with the most ivy, I guess."
"Wow. I bet you climb a lot of trees."
"Mmm." Willie considered this as they walked down the stairs. Everyone was good at something. Jason was good at hiding things. David was really good at finding them. Jason had tried really hard to hide his bag. And yet, David had found it.
"I bet you know where a lot of things are, huh, kid?"
"Yeah." David admitted. "I'm good at finding things."
Willie tucked away this information for later.
David hurried ahead and checked to see if the coast was clear. After a moment, he waved Willie down to the front door.
"Thanks, kid." Willie whispered.
"Don't forget the thousand dollars." David opened the front door.
"Yeah, yeah." Willie opened his mouth to give David a vague and incorrect estimate on when he would get him the money, but the words died on his lips.
"What thousand dollars?" Burke Devlin asked, standing just outside the front door, looking down at David. Then, his eyes flicked up. Upwards, to meet Willie Loomis's eyes.
Burke went white.
With anger, Willie guessed. He wanted to leave. Now. Before Burke could make any trouble for him.
"Thanks, David." Willie ruffled the kid's hair and edged past Burke as fast as he could. "I owe you one."
And Burke just stood there and watched him go.
Faintly, as Willie crossed the gravel drive and stepped into the treeline, dark and thick with night, he could hear David's voice.
"What's wrong, Burke? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
...
...
...
It was close to closing time when Burke finally staggered into the Blue Whale. Jason set down his drink and stood up. As Burke passed the bar on the way to Jason's table, the bartender grunted out a reminder.
"Thirty minutes, boys."
Jason waved a conciliatory hand in the bartender's direction and sat down again when Burke Devlin slumped into the chair opposite.
"Now what-" Jason started to say.
But Burke had grabbed the other glass of liquor that Jason had ordered a few minutes ago and downed it before Jason could even finish his sentence.
Jason sighed and waited, irritation mounting, as Burke turned and ordered another drink from the bartender.
When Burke finally turned back around, Jason spoke quickly before he could be interrupted again. "Now, what is this about?"
Burke had apparently been looking for him for hours now. Something business related, or that's what he'd been told. But business wouldn't put the worrying ache in Jason's gut, or that look on Burke's face. What was going on?
The bartender brought the second drink and Burke drank it down before the guy even returned to the bar.
Jason opened his mouth to demand an answer again but-
"I saw him."
The words were rough as stone, dragged from Burke's throat, heavy as tombstones.
They mean nothing.
"What?"
"I saw him." Burke repeated.
"Who?"
Burke ran a hand through his hair, making part of it stand on end. "He was walking around. He looked fine!"
Jason felt the blood leave his face, but he didn't know why yet. "Who?" he repeated, leaning forward.
"Loomis."
A word that just didn't make sense.
Jason sat back, shaking his head. "No, no." It didn't make sense. "No, you didn't."
"I did."
"You think you did."
"I saw him, clear as day."
"It's night."
"At Collinwood!"
Jason glanced up and saw the bartender was listening. He forced himself to lower his voice, hoping Burke would follow his example. "All right then, walk me through it. So I understand."
"We put him in the ground." Burke hissed, forcing each word into existence with a tap upon the table with his finger.
"I know that."
Burke picked up his glass with shaking hands, tipping it to his mouth, before remembering it was empty. He set it down again and tried to stand to get another drink.
But Jason grabbed Burke's arm and held him in place. Burke didn't fight hard.
Jason stared him down. "Tell me."
Burke slowly sat back down. Jason kept a hold of his arm. He could feel that the other man was shaking.
"I went to Collinwood, for… well, it really doesn't matter what it was for. I was just about to ring the doorbell, David flung open the door and there he was. He was just standing there. Alive."
Jason stayed quiet as he mulled this over. It couldn't be true. Burke Devlin must be wrong. He had to be. Otherwise…
"Well?" Burke demands.
"Are you sure?"
"Am I sure?" Burke laughs, a raspy sound. "He looked at me, walked past me. Damnit, McGuire, he was there!" A moment later. "He must have faked it." Burke murmured, almost to himself.
Jason ignored this last statement. "What was he doing there?"
"I don't know. He had his bag, he was saying goodbye to David, and- and he said something about a thousand dollars."
"What thousand dollars?"
"That doesn't matter!" Burke slammed his hand down on the table, yanking his arm from Jason's grasp. "He faked it."
Jason found himself answering before he'd really formed an opinion.
"No, he didn't."
Something was wrong. Burke was wrong.
"He must have, McGuire, think!"
"I don't need to think, I-"
"He faked his death." Burke seemed to deflate a little. "And some other poor bastard is dead."
Jason's thoughts strayed back to that scene on the beach. The open arms of the sharp rocks and the ocean's embrace. A caved-in skull. Twisted limbs and a face obliterated. An empty, dusty space where a friend used to be.
"It was him." Jason kept his voice low. "It was him."
"McGuire." And Burke Devlin's face took on some kind of sympathetic look that Jason absolutely loathed. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure, of course, I'm sure." Jason felt a cold sweat break out down the length of his back as he remembered the scene, for the hundredth, no, the thousandth time. "It was his clothes, his shoes, his-" His freckles, his scars, his birthmark, his smell, his-
"Yes?"
Jason swallowed hard. "Wallet."
A pause. The air was thick with silence between them. It tasted like a long, long drop. The moment of weightlessness. The whistle of the wind before the ground. They both stared at the table. The bartender cleared his throat, loudly.
"It was dark." Burke murmured.
Jason closed his eyes. He saw it, every time he closed his eyes. "It was him."