A Fatal Frame of Mind

Chapter Two

The Echo cruised down State Street. Gus glanced over at Shawn to see if he was getting suspicious. But the Bijoux Theatre, where C. Thomas Howell was being feted, was in the same direction as their real destination, and Gus figured he had another minute or two before the truth became apparent. And Shawn seemed to be completely oblivious to the deception.

Gus felt a momentary thrill of triumph at successfully fooling his best friend and partner. At least he tried to feel it. This was a huge moment for him, one of the few times he’d ever gotten away with lying to Shawn, whose ability to see through other people’s lies was surpassed only by his skill at spinning his own.

But instead of victory, Gus felt ashamed. He’d lied to Shawn to get what he wanted, and now he was afraid that he’d ruined the evening for both of them. And maybe more than the evening. It was possible Gus had done ineradicable harm to their friendship.

“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to this film festival,” Shawn said. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but it could be the high point of my existence.”

“I’m sure it won’t be,” Gus mumbled. “Just a bunch of crummy movies you could get from Netflix any day.”

“It’s not just the movies; it’s the sense of community,” Shawn said. “To know for once in my life that I’m not all alone in the world. That I’m not a freak.”

“You’re not a freak, Shawn. And you don’t need a C. Thomas Howell Film Festival to-” Gus broke off, suddenly hearing his words echoing in his head. “How long have you known?”

The puzzled look on Shawn’s face was so pure and innocent that a Renaissance painter could have used it as the inspiration for one of the cupids hovering around the corners of his painting, if there had happened to be any Renaissance painters hiding in the backseat of the Echo and they were able to get over the shock of being transported in a coach with no visible means of locomotion in time to pay attention to their model.

“Known what?” Shawn said.

“You know what,” Gus said. If he’d felt lousy at having tricked Shawn, it was only fair that he should feel better, now that he realized Shawn hadn’t been fooled. Instead, he felt even more annoyed at himself.

“That you’re not taking me to the C. Thomas Howell Film Festival?” Shawn said. “That in fact you never intended to take me to the C. Thomas Howell Film Festival and instead have duped me in some cruel and manipulative manner?”

“Yes.”

“Since you went out to get the tickets a week ago,” Shawn said. “And when you came back to the office and I asked to see them, you said you’d dropped them off at your apartment. If you’d wanted to make this halfway believable, you could have at least bought a couple of tickets.”

“If we’d had tickets, you would have found a way to use them,” Gus said. “I had to make sure you thought we had seats until the thing sold out.”

“And in case hell didn’t freeze over, what were you planning on doing then?”

“I’m doing it.” Gus pressed his foot on the gas, and the car zipped past the Bijoux, where either a small crowd had gathered to salute their favorite actor or the number three bus was going to stop soon.

“At least you could tell me where we’re going,” Shawn said after a few silent blocks. “You owe me that.”

“You mean I could tell you where we’re going again?” Gus said.

Shawn looked confused. “Why, did we already go there?”

“Go where?” Gus said.

“I don’t know,” Shawn said. “That’s why I’m asking.”

It took Gus a moment to run through the conversation and figure out where they had gone off track. “When I said ‘again,’ I was using it to modify the first half of the sentence, not the second.”

“Can you say that in English?” Shawn said.

“That was English,” Gus said. “In fact, it was more than English. It was specifically a point of English grammar, so you don’t get much more English than that.”

“What about Gwyneth Paltrow?” Shawn said. “She got pretty English. Madonna, too, although I think Guy Ritchie took the accent back in the divorce settlement.”

Gus slowed for a yellow light and stopped with his front bumper precisely above the limit line. “What I meant was not that we were going someplace we’d already been, but that this was not the first time tonight’s destination had come up in conversation, and that in previous discussions I had told you where I wanted to go, asked if you wanted to come along, and been denied.”

“Okay, that’s how Gwyneth would say it,” Shawn said. “Now put it in your own words.”

“We’re going to meet a client,” Gus said. “And after we meet with him, we are going to take his case.”