Here is Chapter 21 of All Lost Things. This book is turning out to be longer than either of my other ones (Reap the Whirlwind in College and Bleeding Hearts in High School). I hope you are enjoying it as much as the others. Let me know. And be sure to check out the website.
http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts
Email: Aterovis@aol.com
Chapter 21
For a moment I didn't think Rachel would react. She seemed frozen in place, her eyes fastened on the piece of newsprint in my hand. Then all at once it was like she swung into action. She spun around and shoved Novak roughly in the chest with both hands. He stumbled backwards in surprise as she made a dash for the door.
Luckily I realized what she was doing and with a maneuver I was pretty proud of, I leaped over the couch and threw myself in her path. We collided at full speed and went down in a tangle of arms and legs. My breath was knocked out of me and I lay helplessly gasping as she scrambled to her feet and started for the door again.
Novak had recovered himself by this time and simply stepped in front of the door, effectively barring her way since he was so much larger than she was.
"Now is that any way to treat your guests?" Novak said lightly. "Why don't we all have a seat and talk about that article you found interesting enough to cut out and why you chose to lie to us about it."
"It's none of your damn business," she snarled, "Let me go. You can't hold me here against my will."
"No, but I can make a citizen's arrest. If you're going to be that recalcitrant it may be our only option. Killian, why don't you call 911 and see if we can't get a police officer by here?"
"No!" she barked before I even had time to stand up. "Don't get the police involved."
"Then tell us what's going on, Rachel. What are you so scared of?"
She turned around and walked slowly around the couch, where she lowered herself down carefully. "I knew what Ira had told Caleb, that I was dead. Do you have any idea what it's like to feel like your only chance to live is to leave your only child with a monster? I didn't want to lose him altogether, I never intended that. I wanted to see him, have visitation rights. I tried to leave Ira several times before I left him for good. The last time he beat me so badly I almost died. He told me that if I left him again I'd better never come back and that I would be dead as far as he was concerned. And if I did come back that he would make sure I was really was dead.
"I stayed a couple more months before it got to be too much. I had to get out of there once and for all. My aunt helped me set things up; new ID, new look, clothes, money, everything. It had to be a clean break. So I disappeared. I kept tabs on Caleb, though, mostly through my aunt. I knew he was doing well in school, I also knew that he thought I was dead. I thought it was best if I didn't confuse him by suddenly just appearing."
"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "How could you possibly think that it would be better for Caleb if he thought you were dead?"
"It's better than knowing I abandoned him, isn't it?" I wasn't sure so I said nothing. She went on, "When I started noticing the signs of abuse I was terrified. I felt so helpless. I called social services a few times, but nothing ever came of it."
"So you decided to take matters into your own hands?" Novak asked.
"What do you...Oh! No! I did not kill Ira. Maybe I should have, but I didn't. And I refuse to think that Caleb did it either."
"Why is that so hard to believe?" Novak argued, "You felt helpless and trapped and in fear for your life with Ira and you're an adult. Imagine being a child in the same situation. Maybe the only way he could see to escape was to kill him."
Tears were rolling down her cheeks now. "What do you want with me? Why are you here? If you really think I killed Ira you would have called the police by now."
"We don't know if you did or didn't kill anyone. That's why we're here. Can you prove that you didn't kill Ira?"
"How would I do that?"
"Where were you when he was killed?"
"I was..." She stopped and thought for a few seconds. "I guess I was at work."
"Do you have a time card or anything that could prove that?"
"Yes or my boss would."
"We'll be checking on that."
"Are you done with me now?"
"I think so. It would be a good idea if you stayed put though, we may need to get in touch with you again and if we do I want to be able to find you without hunting you down. If we can't find you then we will contact the police and tell them you should be considered a suspect."
She blanched slightly. "I won't go anywhere."
"That's what you said before."
"I won't. I swear."
"I think you should talk to Caleb," I inserted, "He deserves to know the truth."
"What good could it do now?" she asked wearily.
"It could do a world of good," Novak said softly.
She looked back and forth between us then tipped her head back and closed her eyes.
"He could really use someone right now," I pressed.
"Just go, please."
"But Caleb..."
"I'll think about, ok? Just leave me alone."
Novak motioned me for the door and I reluctantly followed him out. I didn't say anything until we were down on the street again.
"She won't see him will she?" I observed sadly.
"No, I don't believe she will," Novak agreed.
"He deserves to know he has a mother and she's alive."
"I thought you didn't even like this kid."
"I don't, not really. It's just that..."
"It's ok, kiddo; you don't have to explain anything to me."
"But I want to. I don't even know if I really understand it though."
"Then forget about it."
We drove back to the hotel and decided that since we'd gotten all our work done early we would go do a little sight-seeing. I'd only been to Washington a couple times and I was mainly at the Smithsonian those times. The mall was beautiful, the monuments and the white house. When the sun set and the lights came on it was almost magical. I slept like a baby that night and we set off for home early the next morning. When we got back Novak told me to take the rest of the day off and we'd start again on the next day.
I left but I found I couldn't leave the case at the office. It was all I could think about, especially this mysterious Finnegan Byrne. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I signed onto AOL and went to the White Pages. I looked up all the Byrne's in the area; there were a dozen. Great. Nothing is ever easy, but then again, at least he wasn't a Smith.
I picked up the phone and started dialing. Eight calls later I hit pay dirt. When I asked if Finnegan was there I got a "Not right now, can I take a message?" instead of my usual "You have the wrong number." I was so surprised to actually find the right number that I couldn't think of what to say at first and they had to ask a second time.
"Um, uh, no that's, uh, ok," I stammered out. "Do you know when he'll be home?"
"That's like asking if I know when the winds gonna blow," the gruff voice on the other end of the line said, "He comes home when he comes home. Are you sure you don't want to leave a message?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Just as well, he never answers them anyway."
"Then why do you ask?"
"It usually makes those calling feel a little better."
"Does he have a job?"
"Finnegan?" they laughed. "No, he's probably at the beach or off practicing the bagpipes. I make him go far enough away that I can't hear him. There're plenty of wide open spaces for him to make as much racket as he wants around here without driving his mother and I insane."
It took all I had not to repeat the word bagpipes. Who on God's green earth plays the bagpipes? It was beginning to sound like Olivia's diagnosis of eccentricity was right on the money.
"I'll call back later," I said distractedly.
"Try around six o'clock. That's when we usually eat dinner and the boy seldom misses a meal."
"Alright, thank you."
I hung up thinking about Finnegan. He sounded like a very interesting person. I was both eager and apprehensive about meeting him.
It turned out I didn't have to call him back; he called me later that afternoon.
"Hello, this is Finnegan Byrne," he said when I answered the phone. "You called here earlier today and I wasn't available. I was just wondering why you called me. May I ask who you are?"
"How did you get my number?" I asked feeling extremely confused, "I didn't leave a message."
"I know; that's why I called you back. If you had left a message I wouldn't have. We have caller ID. Is this Adam Connelly?"
"No, this is Killian Kendall. I work for a private investigator. I was wondering if there was any chance we could get together and talk about Caleb Cohen."
"Caleb? What about him?"
"Do you think we could meet and talk in person? I'd rather do it that way then over the phone."
"Sure, no problem. When's a good time for you?"
"Anytime is fine with me, I'm off today. When would be a good time for you?"
"How about now?"
"Now?"
"Yeah, I'm just sitting here at home doing nothing."
"Ok, can you give me directions?"
He could and he did.
"I should be there in about fifteen minutes," I told him when he'd finished.
"Great, that'll give me time to get dressed," he said.
I hung up once again wondering just what I was getting myself into.
The Byrne house was fairly easy to find. It was just out of town in the general direction of the area the Cohen's had lived. The Byrne's lived in a large old two-storied farm house painted white with green trim. It was well kept and the large yard was meticulously maintained as well.
I climbed out of my car, which was still without a name, and walked up to the door. I raised my fist to knock but before I could the door swung open to reveal a little imp of a boy. He had curly light brown hair with blonde highlights, wide green eyes and full, pouty lips. His face was heart shaped and his nose turned up slightly at the end. His looks, though, were overshadowed by his attire. He was wearing a baggy gray t-shirt with the words "Think Big" emblazoned across his chest. That wasn't the kicker though; what really caught my attention was the fact that he was wearing a skirt. Well, maybe not a skirt. To give him the benefit of the doubt it might have been a kilt. It looked suspiciously like something Britney Spears might have worn in her first video.
"Are you Killian Kendall?" he asked brightly.
"Yes, Finnegan?" I asked even though I thought it was a safe bet that it was he.
"In the flesh," he said with a grin. He held out a hand and I shook it. "Sorry about the kilt," he said in an off-hand manner. "I was going to change but I got distracted. There was a bug on my bedroom floor."
"Ah," I said. I didn't know what else to say.
"So you wanted to talk to me about Caleb?"
"Yes."
"Great, let me change and then we can go for a walk." He disappeared back into the house leaving me standing on the front porch. I didn't have to wait long though before he reappeared in a pair of army surplus camouflage pants and hiking boots. He set off purposefully across the yard and I hurried to catch up.
"So, what did you want to ask me?"
"Do you know Caleb?"
"Yes, I know Caleb."
"How well?"
"About as well as anyone I suppose, maybe better than most." We plunged into the woods at the rear of his property. It hadn't been cleared but there seemed to be a faint trail that we were following, the kind left by animals.
"Are you friends?"
"I guess you could say that. Caleb doesn't really have friends. He stays to himself; he has a lot of walls up to keep people out."
"He's been hurt a lot," I said without thinking.
Finnegan gave me a funny look but all he said was, "I know."
"Did you ever talk about anything personal?"
"Maybe. If we did it was told to me in confidence and I'm not about to just tell all to the first PI that comes trotting along."
"I'm working for Caleb," I said, stretching the truth just a little. "Don't you want to help him?"
"I would love to help him. I just don't know how telling his business would help him."
"Did he ever talk about his dad?"
"Sometimes."
"How did he feel about him?"
"He hated him," he said matter-of-factly.
"Enough to kill him?"
"I don't know, maybe. I think it's in everyone to kill if they are pushed hard enough."
"And was he being pushed hard enough?"
"Definitely. But he'd never cracked before so I don't know if I believe he really did this time."
"So you don't think he did it, just that he was capable of it."
"Something like that."
"Do you have any reason to think that he didn't do it?"
He looked over at me again, as if deciding how trustworthy I was. He stopped walking suddenly, so sudden I almost ran into him. We were at the edge of the forest area; it obviously wasn't as large an area as it appeared. He pointed out across the field in front of us.
It took me a minute to realize what I was looking at; it was from a different angle than I had seen it before.
"That's the Cohen's barn," I said in surprise. And next to it on one side was Mrs. Fields' little house and a wall of trees on the other where the Haynes' lived. I looked over at Finnegan. "Why'd you bring me here?" I asked.
He shrugged.
"Wait a minute," I said slowly, as certain things began to dawn on me. "It was you, wasn't it?"
"What was me?" he asked guardedly.
"Meeting Caleb in the barn. You two were dating."
"I don't know that we were dating," he said carefully.
"But you were meeting him for sex in the barn?"
"Lord, you put it so delicately. We met for more than just sex. I was probably his only friend. We talked a lot, just hung out, sometimes we had sex."
"So you're gay too?"
"I'm bi."
"Did you see Caleb on the night his father was killed?"
His eyes shifted away. "What do you mean?"
"He ran away from the group home and went somewhere, was it your house?"
"He won't tell you?"
"No, and it would be a huge help if we knew where he was. As it is he doesn't have an alibi at all."
"If he had an alibi that would clear him?"
"Probably not completely, but it would help a lot. It might even get him out of juvenile detention."
He thought a minute, then nodded. "He was with me."
"What time did he get there?"
He shrugged, "I don't know. I don't pay much attention to time. Early evening I would say. It was still light out. He tapped on my window and scared the crap out of me. He couldn't just go up to the door because my parents didn't know anything about us. He came in and hid out in my room overnight and left the next morning."
Finally I was coming up with some answers. Now if only I could get them to make sense.
"Were you and Caleb together all night?"
"Pretty much?"
"You never left him alone at all?"
"Maybe for a few minutes at a time. After all, my parents didn't know he was there. I couldn't stay holed up in my room all night, they would get suspicious."
"How long were you gone when you were gone?"
He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes. Maybe more."
"That was a pretty big risk you took; taking him in like that."
"I didn't see it like that. Your friend shows up and needs help you do what you need to do to help."
"Do you love Caleb?"
That seemed to catch him by surprise. "What?"
"I said do you love Caleb?"
"Love?"
"Yes, love."
"That's, uh, a really strong word. I don't know if I love him or not. I like him, I like being with him, but do I love him? I don't know."
"Does he love you?"
"How would I know?"
"I think you would know."
"Maybe."
"I think he's protecting you."
"Protecting me how?"
"He refuses to say who he was meeting in the barn or where he was the night his father was killed, two things that could help him. The question is why is he protecting you?"
He looked away. "Caleb knows my biggest fear is being outted to my parents."
"I got the impression that you were pretty much a free spirit."
"Weirdness they can handle. Eccentricity is fine. Homosexuality is a major no-no. I can dye my hair any color in the rainbow, wear anything I want, but God forbid I should love a boy."
"Religious?"
"More like just extremely narrow-minded."
He turned and started walking back towards his house.
"If you don't think Caleb did it do you have any other ideas?" I asked as I followed.
"Not really. I didn't have much contact with anyone except Caleb. I know that his dad and his dad's girlfriend fought a lot. And I know that those neighbors were kind of weird about Caleb, protective, always giving him stuff. That's all I really know though."
"We've talked to all those people. Everything just keeps coming up a dead end."
"Something somewhere must just be appearing to be a dead end then. Unless there is someone else that you don't know about yet."
"Like who?"
"Oh, I didn't actually have anyone in mind; I just meant there's always that possibility."
"You know more than you are saying."
"And what if I do?"
"Then it would be best if you told me everything."
"Best for who, you?"
"Best for Caleb."
"I'm not really sure you want what's best for Caleb."
"What?"
"Never mind."
"No, what did you mean by that?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It does to me," I insisted, but I dropped it and change the subject. "Would you be willing to go to the police with this?"
"What? No!"
"You have to, Finnegan."
"Call me Finn, only my mom calls me by my full name. And why do I have to."
"Because you know something that could make a big difference. You could get Caleb out of jail."
"And what would it get me? I'd be out to my parents."
"Not necessarily. Maybe the police can keep it a secret, you know, like a confidential source. Besides, isn't Caleb's whole life more important that what your parents might think?"
"That's easy for you to say. You don't live with my parents."
"I don't even live with my own parents. My dad kicked me out when he found out I was gay."
He looked over at me sharply. "You're gay?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Then you should know. Especially since you got kicked out."
"I'm glad I did actually. My life has been much better since. A really great guy took me in; he's like my dad now. And I got a little brother, too." We arrived at my car and stopped to continue talking.
"Wait a minute, you're caller ID said Adam Connelly. You're not Kane Connelly's brother are you?"
"Yeah, you know Kane?"
"Yeah, he was in my art class, we sat next to each other. He talks about you all the time."
I blushed. "Good I hope," I mumbled.
"You'd think you were a god or something to hear him talk."
I blushed even more. Time to leave, I thought. I opened my car door and started to climb in. He looked over the car and smiled. "Nice car."
"Thanks."
"You should name it Shadow."
"What is it about everyone trying to name my car? And why Shadow?" I asked, curious despite myself. I liked the sound of it, more so than any other name I'd come up with.
"Well, it's dark and you are a PI and shadowing people is part of what you do. I dunno. It just seemed like a Shadow to me."
I liked it. Before I closed the door, though, I thought one last reminder was in order. "Will you just think about going to the police?" I said.
He looked down at the ground. "I'll think about it."
"You really should. If you care at all about Caleb you will."
Here is Chapter 21 of All Lost Things. This book is turning out to be longer than either of my other ones (Reap the Whirlwind in College and Bleeding Hearts in High School). I hope you are enjoying it as much as the others. Let me know. And be sure to check out the website.
http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts
Email: Aterovis@aol.com
Chapter 21
For a moment I didn't think Rachel would react. She seemed frozen in place, her eyes fastened on the piece of newsprint in my hand. Then all at once it was like she swung into action. She spun around and shoved Novak roughly in the chest with both hands. He stumbled backwards in surprise as she made a dash for the door.
Luckily I realized what she was doing and with a maneuver I was pretty proud of, I leaped over the couch and threw myself in her path. We collided at full speed and went down in a tangle of arms and legs. My breath was knocked out of me and I lay helplessly gasping as she scrambled to her feet and started for the door again.
Novak had recovered himself by this time and simply stepped in front of the door, effectively barring her way since he was so much larger than she was.
"Now is that any way to treat your guests?" Novak said lightly. "Why don't we all have a seat and talk about that article you found interesting enough to cut out and why you chose to lie to us about it."
"It's none of your damn business," she snarled, "Let me go. You can't hold me here against my will."
"No, but I can make a citizen's arrest. If you're going to be that recalcitrant it may be our only option. Killian, why don't you call 911 and see if we can't get a police officer by here?"
"No!" she barked before I even had time to stand up. "Don't get the police involved."
"Then tell us what's going on, Rachel. What are you so scared of?"
She turned around and walked slowly around the couch, where she lowered herself down carefully. "I knew what Ira had told Caleb, that I was dead. Do you have any idea what it's like to feel like your only chance to live is to leave your only child with a monster? I didn't want to lose him altogether, I never intended that. I wanted to see him, have visitation rights. I tried to leave Ira several times before I left him for good. The last time he beat me so badly I almost died. He told me that if I left him again I'd better never come back and that I would be dead as far as he was concerned. And if I did come back that he would make sure I was really was dead.
"I stayed a couple more months before it got to be too much. I had to get out of there once and for all. My aunt helped me set things up; new ID, new look, clothes, money, everything. It had to be a clean break. So I disappeared. I kept tabs on Caleb, though, mostly through my aunt. I knew he was doing well in school, I also knew that he thought I was dead. I thought it was best if I didn't confuse him by suddenly just appearing."
"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "How could you possibly think that it would be better for Caleb if he thought you were dead?"
"It's better than knowing I abandoned him, isn't it?" I wasn't sure so I said nothing. She went on, "When I started noticing the signs of abuse I was terrified. I felt so helpless. I called social services a few times, but nothing ever came of it."
"So you decided to take matters into your own hands?" Novak asked.
"What do you...Oh! No! I did not kill Ira. Maybe I should have, but I didn't. And I refuse to think that Caleb did it either."
"Why is that so hard to believe?" Novak argued, "You felt helpless and trapped and in fear for your life with Ira and you're an adult. Imagine being a child in the same situation. Maybe the only way he could see to escape was to kill him."
Tears were rolling down her cheeks now. "What do you want with me? Why are you here? If you really think I killed Ira you would have called the police by now."
"We don't know if you did or didn't kill anyone. That's why we're here. Can you prove that you didn't kill Ira?"
"How would I do that?"
"Where were you when he was killed?"
"I was..." She stopped and thought for a few seconds. "I guess I was at work."
"Do you have a time card or anything that could prove that?"
"Yes or my boss would."
"We'll be checking on that."
"Are you done with me now?"
"I think so. It would be a good idea if you stayed put though, we may need to get in touch with you again and if we do I want to be able to find you without hunting you down. If we can't find you then we will contact the police and tell them you should be considered a suspect."
She blanched slightly. "I won't go anywhere."
"That's what you said before."
"I won't. I swear."
"I think you should talk to Caleb," I inserted, "He deserves to know the truth."
"What good could it do now?" she asked wearily.
"It could do a world of good," Novak said softly.
She looked back and forth between us then tipped her head back and closed her eyes.
"He could really use someone right now," I pressed.
"Just go, please."
"But Caleb..."
"I'll think about, ok? Just leave me alone."
Novak motioned me for the door and I reluctantly followed him out. I didn't say anything until we were down on the street again.
"She won't see him will she?" I observed sadly.
"No, I don't believe she will," Novak agreed.
"He deserves to know he has a mother and she's alive."
"I thought you didn't even like this kid."
"I don't, not really. It's just that..."
"It's ok, kiddo; you don't have to explain anything to me."
"But I want to. I don't even know if I really understand it though."
"Then forget about it."
We drove back to the hotel and decided that since we'd gotten all our work done early we would go do a little sight-seeing. I'd only been to Washington a couple times and I was mainly at the Smithsonian those times. The mall was beautiful, the monuments and the white house. When the sun set and the lights came on it was almost magical. I slept like a baby that night and we set off for home early the next morning. When we got back Novak told me to take the rest of the day off and we'd start again on the next day.
I left but I found I couldn't leave the case at the office. It was all I could think about, especially this mysterious Finnegan Byrne. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I signed onto AOL and went to the White Pages. I looked up all the Byrne's in the area; there were a dozen. Great. Nothing is ever easy, but then again, at least he wasn't a Smith.
I picked up the phone and started dialing. Eight calls later I hit pay dirt. When I asked if Finnegan was there I got a "Not right now, can I take a message?" instead of my usual "You have the wrong number." I was so surprised to actually find the right number that I couldn't think of what to say at first and they had to ask a second time.
"Um, uh, no that's, uh, ok," I stammered out. "Do you know when he'll be home?"
"That's like asking if I know when the winds gonna blow," the gruff voice on the other end of the line said, "He comes home when he comes home. Are you sure you don't want to leave a message?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Just as well, he never answers them anyway."
"Then why do you ask?"
"It usually makes those calling feel a little better."
"Does he have a job?"
"Finnegan?" they laughed. "No, he's probably at the beach or off practicing the bagpipes. I make him go far enough away that I can't hear him. There're plenty of wide open spaces for him to make as much racket as he wants around here without driving his mother and I insane."
It took all I had not to repeat the word bagpipes. Who on God's green earth plays the bagpipes? It was beginning to sound like Olivia's diagnosis of eccentricity was right on the money.
"I'll call back later," I said distractedly.
"Try around six o'clock. That's when we usually eat dinner and the boy seldom misses a meal."
"Alright, thank you."
I hung up thinking about Finnegan. He sounded like a very interesting person. I was both eager and apprehensive about meeting him.
It turned out I didn't have to call him back; he called me later that afternoon.
"Hello, this is Finnegan Byrne," he said when I answered the phone. "You called here earlier today and I wasn't available. I was just wondering why you called me. May I ask who you are?"
"How did you get my number?" I asked feeling extremely confused, "I didn't leave a message."
"I know; that's why I called you back. If you had left a message I wouldn't have. We have caller ID. Is this Adam Connelly?"
"No, this is Killian Kendall. I work for a private investigator. I was wondering if there was any chance we could get together and talk about Caleb Cohen."
"Caleb? What about him?"
"Do you think we could meet and talk in person? I'd rather do it that way then over the phone."
"Sure, no problem. When's a good time for you?"
"Anytime is fine with me, I'm off today. When would be a good time for you?"
"How about now?"
"Now?"
"Yeah, I'm just sitting here at home doing nothing."
"Ok, can you give me directions?"
He could and he did.
"I should be there in about fifteen minutes," I told him when he'd finished.
"Great, that'll give me time to get dressed," he said.
I hung up once again wondering just what I was getting myself into.
The Byrne house was fairly easy to find. It was just out of town in the general direction of the area the Cohen's had lived. The Byrne's lived in a large old two-storied farm house painted white with green trim. It was well kept and the large yard was meticulously maintained as well.
I climbed out of my car, which was still without a name, and walked up to the door. I raised my fist to knock but before I could the door swung open to reveal a little imp of a boy. He had curly light brown hair with blonde highlights, wide green eyes and full, pouty lips. His face was heart shaped and his nose turned up slightly at the end. His looks, though, were overshadowed by his attire. He was wearing a baggy gray t-shirt with the words "Think Big" emblazoned across his chest. That wasn't the kicker though; what really caught my attention was the fact that he was wearing a skirt. Well, maybe not a skirt. To give him the benefit of the doubt it might have been a kilt. It looked suspiciously like something Britney Spears might have worn in her first video.
"Are you Killian Kendall?" he asked brightly.
"Yes, Finnegan?" I asked even though I thought it was a safe bet that it was he.
"In the flesh," he said with a grin. He held out a hand and I shook it. "Sorry about the kilt," he said in an off-hand manner. "I was going to change but I got distracted. There was a bug on my bedroom floor."
"Ah," I said. I didn't know what else to say.
"So you wanted to talk to me about Caleb?"
"Yes."
"Great, let me change and then we can go for a walk." He disappeared back into the house leaving me standing on the front porch. I didn't have to wait long though before he reappeared in a pair of army surplus camouflage pants and hiking boots. He set off purposefully across the yard and I hurried to catch up.
"So, what did you want to ask me?"
"Do you know Caleb?"
"Yes, I know Caleb."
"How well?"
"About as well as anyone I suppose, maybe better than most." We plunged into the woods at the rear of his property. It hadn't been cleared but there seemed to be a faint trail that we were following, the kind left by animals.
"Are you friends?"
"I guess you could say that. Caleb doesn't really have friends. He stays to himself; he has a lot of walls up to keep people out."
"He's been hurt a lot," I said without thinking.
Finnegan gave me a funny look but all he said was, "I know."
"Did you ever talk about anything personal?"
"Maybe. If we did it was told to me in confidence and I'm not about to just tell all to the first PI that comes trotting along."
"I'm working for Caleb," I said, stretching the truth just a little. "Don't you want to help him?"
"I would love to help him. I just don't know how telling his business would help him."
"Did he ever talk about his dad?"
"Sometimes."
"How did he feel about him?"
"He hated him," he said matter-of-factly.
"Enough to kill him?"
"I don't know, maybe. I think it's in everyone to kill if they are pushed hard enough."
"And was he being pushed hard enough?"
"Definitely. But he'd never cracked before so I don't know if I believe he really did this time."
"So you don't think he did it, just that he was capable of it."
"Something like that."
"Do you have any reason to think that he didn't do it?"
He looked over at me again, as if deciding how trustworthy I was. He stopped walking suddenly, so sudden I almost ran into him. We were at the edge of the forest area; it obviously wasn't as large an area as it appeared. He pointed out across the field in front of us.
It took me a minute to realize what I was looking at; it was from a different angle than I had seen it before.
"That's the Cohen's barn," I said in surprise. And next to it on one side was Mrs. Fields' little house and a wall of trees on the other where the Haynes' lived. I looked over at Finnegan. "Why'd you bring me here?" I asked.
He shrugged.
"Wait a minute," I said slowly, as certain things began to dawn on me. "It was you, wasn't it?"
"What was me?" he asked guardedly.
"Meeting Caleb in the barn. You two were dating."
"I don't know that we were dating," he said carefully.
"But you were meeting him for sex in the barn?"
"Lord, you put it so delicately. We met for more than just sex. I was probably his only friend. We talked a lot, just hung out, sometimes we had sex."
"So you're gay too?"
"I'm bi."
"Did you see Caleb on the night his father was killed?"
His eyes shifted away. "What do you mean?"
"He ran away from the group home and went somewhere, was it your house?"
"He won't tell you?"
"No, and it would be a huge help if we knew where he was. As it is he doesn't have an alibi at all."
"If he had an alibi that would clear him?"
"Probably not completely, but it would help a lot. It might even get him out of juvenile detention."
He thought a minute, then nodded. "He was with me."
"What time did he get there?"
He shrugged, "I don't know. I don't pay much attention to time. Early evening I would say. It was still light out. He tapped on my window and scared the crap out of me. He couldn't just go up to the door because my parents didn't know anything about us. He came in and hid out in my room overnight and left the next morning."
Finally I was coming up with some answers. Now if only I could get them to make sense.
"Were you and Caleb together all night?"
"Pretty much?"
"You never left him alone at all?"
"Maybe for a few minutes at a time. After all, my parents didn't know he was there. I couldn't stay holed up in my room all night, they would get suspicious."
"How long were you gone when you were gone?"
He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes. Maybe more."
"That was a pretty big risk you took; taking him in like that."
"I didn't see it like that. Your friend shows up and needs help you do what you need to do to help."
"Do you love Caleb?"
That seemed to catch him by surprise. "What?"
"I said do you love Caleb?"
"Love?"
"Yes, love."
"That's, uh, a really strong word. I don't know if I love him or not. I like him, I like being with him, but do I love him? I don't know."
"Does he love you?"
"How would I know?"
"I think you would know."
"Maybe."
"I think he's protecting you."
"Protecting me how?"
"He refuses to say who he was meeting in the barn or where he was the night his father was killed, two things that could help him. The question is why is he protecting you?"
He looked away. "Caleb knows my biggest fear is being outted to my parents."
"I got the impression that you were pretty much a free spirit."
"Weirdness they can handle. Eccentricity is fine. Homosexuality is a major no-no. I can dye my hair any color in the rainbow, wear anything I want, but God forbid I should love a boy."
"Religious?"
"More like just extremely narrow-minded."
He turned and started walking back towards his house.
"If you don't think Caleb did it do you have any other ideas?" I asked as I followed.
"Not really. I didn't have much contact with anyone except Caleb. I know that his dad and his dad's girlfriend fought a lot. And I know that those neighbors were kind of weird about Caleb, protective, always giving him stuff. That's all I really know though."
"We've talked to all those people. Everything just keeps coming up a dead end."
"Something somewhere must just be appearing to be a dead end then. Unless there is someone else that you don't know about yet."
"Like who?"
"Oh, I didn't actually have anyone in mind; I just meant there's always that possibility."
"You know more than you are saying."
"And what if I do?"
"Then it would be best if you told me everything."
"Best for who, you?"
"Best for Caleb."
"I'm not really sure you want what's best for Caleb."
"What?"
"Never mind."
"No, what did you mean by that?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It does to me," I insisted, but I dropped it and change the subject. "Would you be willing to go to the police with this?"
"What? No!"
"You have to, Finnegan."
"Call me Finn, only my mom calls me by my full name. And why do I have to."
"Because you know something that could make a big difference. You could get Caleb out of jail."
"And what would it get me? I'd be out to my parents."
"Not necessarily. Maybe the police can keep it a secret, you know, like a confidential source. Besides, isn't Caleb's whole life more important that what your parents might think?"
"That's easy for you to say. You don't live with my parents."
"I don't even live with my own parents. My dad kicked me out when he found out I was gay."
He looked over at me sharply. "You're gay?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Then you should know. Especially since you got kicked out."
"I'm glad I did actually. My life has been much better since. A really great guy took me in; he's like my dad now. And I got a little brother, too." We arrived at my car and stopped to continue talking.
"Wait a minute, you're caller ID said Adam Connelly. You're not Kane Connelly's brother are you?"
"Yeah, you know Kane?"
"Yeah, he was in my art class, we sat next to each other. He talks about you all the time."
I blushed. "Good I hope," I mumbled.
"You'd think you were a god or something to hear him talk."
I blushed even more. Time to leave, I thought. I opened my car door and started to climb in. He looked over the car and smiled. "Nice car."
"Thanks."
"You should name it Shadow."
"What is it about everyone trying to name my car? And why Shadow?" I asked, curious despite myself. I liked the sound of it, more so than any other name I'd come up with.
"Well, it's dark and you are a PI and shadowing people is part of what you do. I dunno. It just seemed like a Shadow to me."
I liked it. Before I closed the door, though, I thought one last reminder was in order. "Will you just think about going to the police?" I said.
He looked down at the ground. "I'll think about it."
"You really should. If you care at all about Caleb you will."