Josh Aterovis is the author of Bleeding Hearts (ISBN: 1930928688) and the upcoming Reap the Whirlwind (Coming in 2003), published by Renaissance Alliance Publishing Inc. (http://www.rapbooks.biz) The Truth of Yesterday is the fourth book in the Killian Kendall series.
Visit "Black Sheep Productions" for more information. Official Site of the Killian Kendall Mystery Series http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts
The Truth of Yesterday
Chapter 19
I woke up the next morning to find myself in Micah's arms for the second morning in a row. I found it was just as pleasant the second time around. I squirmed around until I was facing him and somehow he slept through my rearrangement. I watched him sleep for a few minutes, marveling that he was mine and that he wanted to be with me. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. I leaned forward and began to tickle his ear with my tongue.
He twitched and rubbed his ear, but still didn't wake up, so I leaned in and tried it again. He jerked away and blinked, giving me a confused look for a moment. As his bleary eyes focused on me, I was rewarded with a huge smile.
"Good morning," I purred, pressing my body against his.
"Waking up to you makes it a good morning," he said. He trailed a hand lazily down my side, his fingertips barely grazing my skin, and I felt a chill snake its way deliciously through my body. "Am I mistaken," he asked, "or did someone wake up a bit horny this morning?"
"You must be mistaken," I said with all the innocence I could manage with my obvious state of arousal sticking in his side.
"Really? Then you won't mind if I go take a shower," he said and started to get up. I grabbed and pulled him back down onto the bed.
"You are not going anywhere, mister," I growled.
He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me. "You fell asleep on me last night," he said teasingly.
"Well, I'm awake now," I shot back. "Make the most of it while you can. If you don't do something soon I might just doze off again."
He flipped me onto my back with a devilish grin, then leaned forward slowly and brushed his lips across my stomach. It did a little somersault and I couldn't hold back a small gasp. "Oh, I think I can keep you awake," he said in a husky voice. I didn't doubt him for a second.
Adam was actually home when I pulled into the driveway later that day. Micah had dropped me off at the office a little earlier and I had decided to drive home for some more clothes before I went back to the bed and breakfast.
"Well, Micah has made the big leagues," Adam greeted me as I walked through the door. "I hope you're ready for the flack that going to come out of this."
"Huh?" I responded.
"His article. Didn't you see it yet?"
"No, we went to DC last night. We just got back."
He made a face. "He may wish he'd stayed there before this is over."
"Why? What's going on?" I asked, concerned at the tone of Adam's voice.
"I think you'd better take a look at the article." He walked into the living room and I trailed behind. He handed me the front-page section of the Sunday paper. "At least he made the front page."
I took the paper and read the main headline. "County Council Corruption," it screamed in large, bold font, and under that, in smaller print, "Payoffs, Bribes, and Cover-ups Abound in County Government." I glanced at the byline and there was Micah's name.
"I knew he was working on this," I said. "Is it a big deal?"
Adam snorted. "You'd better believe this is a big deal. He's stirring up a hornets nest and some of these hornets pack a mean sting. He'd better plan on laying low for the next few days. There are bound to be some people out for blood over this."
"Do you mean that literally or figuratively?" I asked.
"I hope figuratively, but you never know. According to that article, some of these people were involved in illegal deals that are in the millions of dollars. They're not going to be very happy about losing those deals, which is probably the very least of what is about to happen to them. There will be official investigations, fines, and possibly even indictments. And we're talking about influential people in local government. You know better than anyone what happens when you mess with the good old boys club."
He was referring to my real father. He had been the State's Attorney in a neighboring county before an investigation into the mishandling of a murder investigation brought down his own little empire of corruption. In that case, the corruption wasn't as wide-spread as Micah's article made this out to look, and most of the blame landed squarely in my father's lap. He was currently serving a five year prison sentence.
"I'd better go call Micah," I said and ran up the stairs to my room. I dialed Micah's cell phone first, but only got his message service. I tried dialing his desk phone, but that was busy. I called his cell phone back and left a message. While I waited for him to call me back, I signed online to check my email.
The first one was from Noah. He was inviting me to attend the gay/straight Halloween dance that Haven was sponsoring that Thursday night. He said there would be awards for the best costume and I was welcome to bring friends. I'd heard everyone talking about the dance at the last meeting I'd attended, but hadn't really considered going. Now it seemed like it might be a good idea to invite Micah. That would be one place no one would really care about his article. It might give him a chance to relax and get away from all the attention that Adam seemed to think this would bring him.
At the bottom of my inbox, buried beneath a mountain of spam mail, was a response from Neal. I opened it up and read over his brief note.
"I would be willing to speak with you regarding the unfortunate death of Paul Flynn," he wrote. "The nature of my business being what it is, I'm afraid that I will need some sort of verification that you are who you say you are. If I am satisfied of that, we can meet and I will answer your questions. Please call me at my office and we'll see if we can work things out."
Cautious, but accommodating, I thought. Almost as if he was afraid that I might know something. Or maybe he just wants to find out what I know. At the same time, he can't be sure I'm not a cop on the vice squad.
I was reaching for the phone to call him when it rang under my hand. It was Micah returning my call.
"Hey, I saw the paper," I said after we'd exchanged greetings. "Adam seems to think you'll be catching hell."
"Adam would be correct," he said without inflection.
"Is it bad?"
"Not yet, but it looks like it could be. We've already had several very angry phone calls from local bigwigs, all of them outraged that the paper would print something like this and most of them wishing me bodily harm. From some of the people who've called threatening lawsuits, I'm guessing this is going to be a lot bigger than even I expected. These guys are in so many pockets, and then they in turn have guys in their pocket...well, let's just say it looks like this is going to reach far outside the county."
"Let me guess," I said, my voice heavy with irony, "The consensus is you should have let sleeping dogs lie."
"Yes! I can't believe this. They'd rather let these guys get away with everything."
I let out a short bark of humorless laughter. "This is the Eastern Shore, Micah. That's how it works. The good old boys protect each other and everybody has their hand in somebody else's pocket. Lesson number one in backwoods politics."
"That's just it. Maybe the Shore used to be backwoods, but times are changing. We can't let people continue to get away with stuff like this."
"They might be changing but change comes slowly around these parts. These guys play hardball, Micah. You said that some people were wishing you bodily harm; have there been any threats against you? Do you think you're in any danger?"
"I don't know. There haven't been any direct threats; these guys are too smart for that. But they have been making threatening noises, if you know what I mean. I hadn't taken them too seriously before now, though."
"I think you should. You need to be careful. Maybe you should lay low for a little while; keep a low profile."
"No way, I need to be out there doing follow-up articles, interviews..."
"I need you alive!" I interrupted him. "Please, can't you let someone else take it from here? You broke the big story."
"This is huge, Killian. I can't just hand it over to someone else now. This is my job. It's what I do and I love it. I would never ask you to give up an investigation just because it turned dangerous."
"You're right," I admitted. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."
"It's ok. I understand. Trust me, I understand. You're scared. Sometimes I'm scared for you too. But I need to do this."
"Just...promise me you'll be careful."
"That I can promise. It's not like I want to get hurt. Tell you what, I'll keep as low a profile as I possibly can and still get the job done. Ok?"
"Ok."
"You do realize that you probably won't be seeing much of me for the next few days, don't you?"
"Well, it's not like I don't have things to do," I started. "Oh, wait. What about Thursday night? Do you think you'd be free to go with me to a Halloween dance at Pemberton?"
"Halloween dance?" he asked doubtfully.
"It's sponsored by Haven."
"Oh, um, yeah. I guess we could do that."
"Come on, you'll need to get away and have some fun by then. Remember what you said to me about working too hard?"
He laughed. "Oh sure, throw my own words back in my face. We are going to a Ball the very next night, you know, but ok, let's plan on going. Do I have to wear a costume?"
"Yes," I said firmly.
"Ok, ok." I heard some voices in the background. "Hang on a sec, Kill." I could hear him talking to someone but he must have put his hand over the phone because I couldn't understand what was being said. A few seconds later, he came back on the line. "Hey, something's come up; I have to go. I'll talk to you later, 'k? Love you. Bye"
Before I could answer, he'd hung up.
I stared at the phone for a minute, hoping that I'd get through the next few days without Micah. Just when I was really getting used to waking up to him, I thought wistfully. I must have gotten lost in thought because the next thing I knew, the operator came on and told me to hang up if I wished to make another call, jarring me out of my daydream.
I hung up and then picked it right back up again to dial Neal. I might as well get to work.
He answered on the second ring. "Hello, Top to Bottom Escorts. Neal speaking. How can I be of service?"
"Neal, this is Killian Kendall," I told him. "I sent you an email yesterday regarding Paul Flynn and you sent me a response asking me to call you."
"Yes, I did. I'm sure you understand that before I can meet with you I need to be sure you are who you say you are."
"And not a cop?"
He laughed. His voice was smooth and cultured; he sounded well-educated. "You cut right to the point, don't you, Mr. Kendall?"
"Please, call me Killian. And yes, I do like to come to the point. I'm sure you're a busy man and I don't want to take up any more of your time than I have to."
"I appreciate that. You said in your email that you are a private investigator hired to look into Paul's murder?"
"Yes, sir."
"May I ask who hired you or is that confidential?"
I thought for moment, but didn't see any harm in telling him who had hired me. "Actually, I believe you know my client," I said. "His name is Micah Gerber. He used to work for your agency."
"Micah?" he asked, his surprise came through clearly in his voice. "I thought he and Paul went their separate ways ages ago."
"They did, but Mr. Gerber would still like to know what happened to his old friend." I was trying to sound as professional as possible; I'd decided not to let on that Micah and I were dating.
"Of course, I can understand that, although I'm not sure how you think I can help."
"I'm talking to everyone who had anything to do with Paul, even marginally."
"You realize we never met face to face. All our business was done either on the phone, online, or by mail."
"Mr. Gerber explained to me how the business works," I said.
"Good, then I don't need to go into all those details. Is there any way that I can verify that you are a private investigator? Can I check your license with the state?"
I didn't need him to know that I wasn't licensed yet either. "Would calling my office in the morning and speaking to my associate Shane Novak be sufficient?"
"Could I call him today? If I can verify all this, I'd like to meet with you tomorrow. I'm leaving town on Tuesday for an extended vacation. I'll be gone for the better part of November."
"Florida?" I asked.
"Cancun. So, can I call this...what was his name?"
"Novak, Shane Novak. Why don't I see if I can get in touch with him and have him give you a call?"
"How do I know you aren't just getting someone to call me and pretend to be your associate?"
Good point. "Then how about if I have Mr. Gerber call you? Would that be verification enough?"
"That would be alright, I suppose. I haven't spoken to Micah since he left the agency. He said he was taking a job at a newspaper in the middle of nowhere on the Shore, but I always suspected he was just going out on his own. Is he still in the business?"
I bristled a little at the question, and then realized how silly I was being. "Actually, he's the star reporter on the paper that covers the entire Shore," I said casually. So I embellished a little, I was sure it wouldn't be long before he was the star reporter.
"Really? Well, good for him. Yes, please have Micah call me. I'll work things out with him. If all goes well, which I'm sure it will, meet me at noon tomorrow at Union Station at the Center Cafe. Just ask for Neal and they'll bring you to my table."
"That sounds fine. I appreciate your help."
"Don't think it's entirely altruistic, Killian," he said with a dry chuckle. "I think it's in my best interest to meet with you as well. After all, I can't have you making assumptions, or worst yet, going to the police with half-formed ideas. I'll be looking forward to hearing from Micah."
"I'll have him call you as soon as I can," I promised.
We hung up and I called Micah right away. I held my breath while it rang. Please be there, please pick up, I begged.
"Hello?" he answered sounding a little peeved at the interruption.
"Micah," I said. "I'm sorry to interrupt you but I need you to do something for me."
"Is it important?" he said distractedly.
"It's about Paul."
"Paul?" he asked with a little more attention.
"Yeah, I need you to call Neal and verify that I'm a private investigator hired by you to investigate Paul's murder."
"Paranoia is the name of the game when you are doing something illegal," he laughed. "God, I'm glad I don't have to worry about that anymore. Yeah, I'll call him. You'll have to give me his number. When does he want me to call?"
"If you can, call him now, or at least as soon as possible."
"Ok, I'll call him now before I go back to work. What's his number?"
I read the number off to him and he repeated it back to me.
"That's it," I said. "Thanks, Micah. I love you." I was determined to get it in before he hung up this time.
"I love you, too," he said.
As soon as we hung up, I picked up the phone once more. This time to call Chris.
"I was going to call you tonight," she said after I filled her in on my appointment with Neal and she agreed to go with me. "You saved me a call."
"You were going to call me? Why?"
"They opened the safe earlier this week. My dad didn't hear about it until last night though, because he's not really on the case."
"What was in it?"
"Since you're coming tomorrow, why don't I just wait and tell you then?" she said. She sounded serious but I was pretty sure she was just kidding.
"How about if you tell me now," I shot back, just to be on the safe side.
"The contents were pretty interesting. There were a few coins that must have been really rare and valuable since he kept them locked up when all his others ones weren't."
"That's not very interesting. We knew he collected coins."
"I wasn't finished. They also found a bank book for a savings account. Over the last few months, there were regular deposits of a rather large sum of money once a week, but he never made any withdraws."
"What is a large sum of money and was it always the same amount?"
"Dad didn't say. Do you want me to see if I can find out?"
"Please. Anything else?"
"Yeah, he had two tickets to New Zealand that were for this coming weekend."
"Two?"
"Yes, both in his name. But most interesting were the letters." She paused dramatically.
"Letters?"
"Well, I should say copies of letters. There were several but from what I understand they were all similar. They were handwritten and signed by Paul, but none of them were addressed to anyone. They were all apparently very vague, insinuating that Paul knew that whomever the letter was for had done something illegal."
"He didn't say what?"
"No, like I said, they were all very vague. He never came out and said anything directly. It was more like he just wanted the person to know that he knew."
"That could be our missing motive," I said, thinking out loud.
"Do you think he was blackmailing this mystery person?"
"It sounds like it from everything they found in the safe, but it just doesn't fit what everyone has told me about him. He was well off financially so he didn't need the money and everyone goes on and on about what a stand-up guy he was."
"They said he was quiet and kept to himself, right?"
"Yeah."
"That's what they all said about Jeffrey Dahmer too, and the Unibomber, and..."
"Ok, ok. I get the point. I'd like to see these letters. Any chance we can get copies?"
"That'll be hard. They're evidence in a murder investigation. It's not like they hand out copies upon request."
"But you're dad's a cop."
"But he's not on this case."
I sighed. "This is why I wanted to open the safe myself. Well, can you at least check into deposits? Find out if they were always for the same amount and what that amount was?"
"I'll see what I can do."
"Ok. Thanks, Chris."
"Welcome back to the Big City," Chris said as I stepped off the train into the Metro Center and narrowly missed being run over by a boy on a bike.
I snorted. "With all the time I've been spending here lately, maybe I should have the post office just forward my mail. They allow bikes down here?"
"Sort of, but they're supposed to walk them. Come on, we need to get on the red line to go to Union." She set off at a brisk walk and I hurried to keep up with her. As we walked I got a chance to look her over. Today, she was wearing black jeans and a red t-shirt that read, "Warning: Hanging out with me will greatly damage your reputation." Not exactly camouflage, but hopefully she wouldn't stand out too much.
"Were you able to find anything out about the amount of the deposits?" I asked as we dodged through a throng of equally hurried individuals going the opposite direction.
"Right to the point, huh?"
"Well, we're running on a deadline here. I'm supposed to meet Neal in 15 minutes and it takes that long to just get there."
"He'll wait. He can't afford not to."
"I hope you're right. The deposits?"
"I asked Dad and he said he'd check. Hopefully he'll know something when we get done with Neal. By the way, I also asked him if there was any way he could get copies of the letters and he said he doubted it, but he'd see what he could do without sticking his neck out too far."
"That's great! I don't want him to get in trouble on my account."
"Don't worry, he'll be careful."
We boarded the red line train and found seats. Once settled, we chatted for the next few minutes about the case in general, throwing ideas back and forth. We agreed that we really needed to talk to the family and that the two tickets to New Zealand raised some interesting questions.
"He was obviously planning on taking someone with him," Chris pointed out logically. "He must have had a lover, but why was he trying so hard to keep this guy a secret from his friends?"
"He wasn't necessarily keeping it a secret from Sabrina. She admitted that she's been really busy the last few months and hadn't paid much attention to Paul. It could have just been a matter of both of them being too busy with their own lives to catch up."
"What about Razi?"
"Sabrina said Razi was difficult when Paul and Micah were dating, always trying to break them up, but as soon as they broke up, he lost interest. Maybe Paul was trying to avoid a similar situation as long as he could."
"That's reasonable. So how do we find out who this mystery guy is?"
"I don't know," I admitted, "but now we have two mystery guys. Paul's lover and the recipient of those letters."
"The letter recipient isn't necessarily a guy you know."
"True. I don't suppose there would be any chance they're the same person. That would be too simple."
"Why would Paul be involved with someone he knew was doing something illegal?"
"It's happened before. You know what they say; love is blind. Maybe he thought he could change him. This is all just speculation until we know more details."
We through around a few more wild ideas before discarding them as too outlandish before we pulled into Union Station.
Once in the station, we laid out our game plan.
"Do you know where this restaurant is that he was talking about?" I asked.
"Yeah, the Center Café. It's in the middle of the main concourse. You know, this used to be a train station. When it opened, it was the largest train station in the world, and probably the most ornate. The ceiling was actually gold plated."
"You sound like a tour guide."
She flipped me the bird, accompanied by a dirty look. "This is one of my favorite places in the city," she said. "I love to shop here."
I was surprised at that revelation, but then I scolded myself for stereotyping. You should know better, I thought fiercely. Just because Chris doesn't look like your typical mall rat doesn't mean she doesn't like to shop.
"Well, maybe we'll have time for shopping after I talk to Neal," I said in an attempt to atone myself, even though she had no idea what I'd been thinking. I glanced down at my watch. "You can give me the history lesson later. Right now, we need to get moving. I want you to follow me from a discreet distance. I'm supposed to go to the restaurant and ask for Neal; they'll show me to his table. Keep me in sight just in case he does something weird, although I doubt he would in a public place like this."
"Still, it's better to be safe, right?"
"Exactly."
We went up to the main level of the train station cum mall and Chris showed me how to find the restaurant where I was supposed to meet Neal. I took a deep breath and muttered, "Here goes nothing," before striding purposefully across the floor. The restaurant was in the center, as implied by the name, of the large open area that had once been the main concourse. It was two floors with the second floor being open to the large room with a rail going around the edge. I approached the well-dressed young man standing at the greeters' podium.
"I'm here to meet with Neal," I told him.
He looked me over from head to toe. I felt a little like a prize bitch at a dog show. "Are you Killian Kendall?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Follow me."
He led me up the flight of stairs and towards a table set off to itself in one corner. At first, the waiter was in my line of vision so I couldn't see the man I was meeting, but as he shifted to one side, I stopped in mid-step. Sitting at the table waiting for me with a pleasantly bland expression was a man I had seen before. Not in person, mind you, and I'd only seen him once, but I recognized him immediately. The last, and first, time I'd ever seen him was in Jake's room. It was the man from the newspaper clipping. It looked like my cases might be connected.