Welcome to the third chapter of The Truth of Yesterday, the fourth book in the Killian Kendall Mystery Series. To find out more about the first three books in the series, visit my website at www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts
Email me at Aterovis@aol.com
Chapter 3
I was still feeling uncomfortable with the idea of investigating Jake when I woke up the next morning. I had slept fitfully the night before; my conscience wouldn't allow me a peaceful night's rest. I tumbled out of bed and sleep walked through my morning routine of shower, dressing, and a quick breakfast. I arrived at Mr. Knox's house a little early and settled down behind the wheel of my car across the street and down a little from his house to wait for him to come out. We weren't doing a full-scale surveillance on him for several reasons. His wife was convinced that if he was cheating, then it was during the day while he was at work or on business trips, because he didn't do anything once he got home except sit in front of the TV and fall asleep. Between the wife, his receptionist/secretary, and me we pretty much had all the bases covered and it allowed me to go to school and still have some semblance of a social life. Not a bad set-up in my opinion.
I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I turned on the car radio and tuned into a dance music station but even "It's Raining Men" couldn't keep me awake. At some point, my eyes must have slipped shut because I was awakened suddenly by the sound of a car door slamming. I jerked up-right, blinking my eyes in the bright light like a startled owl. For a moment, I couldn't figure out where I was and then I remembered what I was doing. Knox's Ford Ranger roared to life and he began to back out of his driveway. I waited a few seconds for him to get a little ways down the street before I started my car and pulled out after him.
Novak had given me a few lessons in tailing someone, but he said it was mostly common sense. You stayed far enough back that the average Joe would never realize you were following them, but not so far that you could easily lose them. He had suggested I should trade in my brand new black Mustang for something a little more inconspicuous like his beat up old Buick, Bessie. That was about as likely as me getting a sex-change operation, and let's just say I'm a little too attached to a certain something for that to happen.
Usually, Knox took the same route every day directly from his house to the office building he worked in. Knox was a salesman for a large, Shore-based seafood distributor. This morning he surprised me by taking an unexpected turn. In my sleep-deprived state, I almost drove past him in my confusion. At the last second, I swung widely onto the street behind him, going a bit too fast. I could only hope my reckless driving didn't attract his attention. I let a sigh of relief when it became obvious that he was driving on at the same speed, seemingly oblivious.
He turned his left turn signal on and pulled into the parking lot for a small strip mall. I drove past and then turned around at a gas station farther up. When I drove slowly past the strip mall for the second time, I saw him entering one of the storefronts. I pulled into the lot myself and parked at the far end from where he had parked. From my spot, I could watch the door of what I now saw was a travel agency. Were the Knox's planning a trip? She hadn't mentioned anything like that.
He wasn't in there long before he came back out with a large manila envelope in his hand. He climbed back into his car and pulled out with me not far behind. This time he drove right to his office building. I noticed that unless he had stuck the envelope in his briefcase, which was very possible, he didn't have it with him when he went into the building. I parked and waited a few minutes before going in myself.
I made a beeline for the secretary that was helping me keep an eye on Knox. All the way across the room, I tried to remember her name. I was pretty sure it rhymed with Carla. Darla? Marla? Her nameplate sitting on her desk saved me the embarrassment, Sharla Bivens it read in large block letters.
"Sharla," I called softly. She was sitting back to me working on her computer. She swung quickly around and a bright smile lit up her face. She was a young black girl, not much older than I was. She wore her hair in a sort of shag cut with blonde tips and was liberal with her make-up application, although she still had a long way to go if she wanted to catch up with Carmen. Today she was wearing a business-like gray skirt and matching jacket. I noticed she'd added her own flair by hiking the skirt up a few inches and not wearing a blouse under the jacket.
"Hey there, Mr. Detective Boy," she said with a grin. Sharla tended to think of my investigation as a wonderfully fun game, which worked to my advantage most of the time, but occasionally grew a bit grating.
"Shh, it's our secret remember?" I said with a grin of my own. She giggled.
"So what's up? Is this a rendezvous? Do you have a new assignment for me? You want to sneak into his office and look around?"
I laughed. "No, nothing like that, at least not yet. I have a question, though. Mr. Knox stopped at a travel agency on his way to work this morning, do you know anything about that?"
"Oh yeah, he was probably just picking up his plane tickets."
"Plane tickets? To where? And is it business or pleasure?"
"He's flying to DC this weekend for a business trip, but knowing Mr. Knox, he'll mix a little pleasure in too." She giggled again.
"What do you mean?" I asked quickly.
Sharla looked up and down the hall conspiratorially before leaning in and whispering to me, "Mr. Knox has a bit of reputation around here as a...well, ladies man."
Hmm, for the first time I began to think that Mrs. Knox may have some basis for her fear. "Anything you've seen first hand?"
She shook her head, which set her oversized hoop earrings to swinging. "No, I've not been here long enough to see anything, really, but I've heard stories. Nothing blatant, you understand; just rumors and innuendo."
"What about this DC trip? Do you know where he's staying?"
"Hang on," she said as she began to ruffle through a pile of folders. She found the one she was looking for and flipped through it, finally producing a sheet of paper triumphantly. "You should hire me," she said as if finding a paper she's filed herself on her own desk was a major accomplishment.
"Maybe we will," I laughed, thinking that it would actually be a pretty good idea to hire her as our secretary/receptionist since it would free me up a lot. The phone rang just then and she handed me the paper as she went to answer it.
It was a fax from a hotel in Washington DC confirming Knox's reservations for that Friday night through Sunday morning. I pulled out my note pad and quickly wrote down the pertinent information.
Sharla hung up just as I finished. "Thanks," I said, handing the page back to her. "Now if he leaves unexpectedly during the day or if you suspect something fishy, you remember what to do, right?"
She grinned broadly; this was her favorite part. "Sure do. I page you and leave a voice message saying he's left." She made a face. "I still wish you'd let me be a little more creative. Can't I say something like 'The chicken has flown the coop'?"
"You watch too much TV," I laughed again. "Let's just keep it simple for now." I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and slid it across the counter. Sharla slid it right back at me.
"Keep it this time," she said. "This is too much fun to get paid for; I feel like one of Charlie's Angels."
I grinned. "Except you're cuter than any of them."
I was leaving my last class of that day later that afternoon, when I remembered that I needed a particular computer program for one of the classes I was taking that I didn't have on my PC at home. I made a side-trip to the campus bookstore to look for the program since they were available to us at a much cheaper price there than in a regular store. I found the disk I needed and headed for the checkout area.
I ended up in the line of a guy who I'd seen around the campus a few times. He was pretty cute, in a quiet, shy sort of way. He had light brown hair that he kept cut short and full, red lips. Behind his small wire-rimmed glasses, his eyes were an indeterminate color. I studied them while he waited on the person in front of me; trying to decide what color they were exactly. I had just decided that they were hazel when I realized he was staring back and he had said something I had missed.
"Huh?" I said as I tried not to blush.
"I said can I help you?" He seemed to be fighting back a smile.
I handed him the disk and gave into the blush.
"I noticed your necklace," he said after he told me my total.
I glanced down at the necklace Micah had given me. I'd forgotten I was even wearing it.
"Haven, the Gay/Straight Alliance here on campus, meets on Thursday nights if you want to come sometime," he continued.
I felt my blush deepen and wondered why. I wasn't ashamed of being gay; I'd been out as far as I was concerned for years now, but then, I guess I'd never really been really open about it. I'd just never bothered to hide it either.
"Um, thanks," I managed to say.
He smiled. "My name's Noah. I'm the vice-president. The meetings are held in the student lounge in Wicomico Hall. They usually start at eight and then we watch Will & Grace together. We usually have between twenty to thirty people show up. We'd love to have you come."
"Thanks, maybe I will," I said, my inexplicable awkwardness was fading now and I found myself a little intrigued. There was nobody waiting behind me so I decided to ask him more about it. "What do you guys do?"
"Well, we're partly a support group, but we also do a lot of educational and awareness stuff on campus. We sponsor Pride events a couple times a year, during Gay and Lesbian History Month and for the National Coming Out Day in October."
"That was last week, right? I really didn't pay much attention because I had some other stuff going on."
"Yeah, that's over for this year." Someone came up behind me and Noah said hi before turning back to me. "Hey, I'd like to talk to you more about this if you are interested." He grabbed a piece of scrap paper, scribbled something on it, and handed it to me. "This is my dorm room and phone number. Call me sometime."
I took the slip with a promise to give him a call and started walking away.
"Oh, hey," he called. I turned around to find him holding out the disk I'd just bought. "You forgot this."
I grinned sheepishly and took it from him. "Thanks."
"Oh, and what's your name?"
"Killian."
He smiled and turning back to his next customer. "You're with Micah," I told myself firmly as I walked away. I chanted it like a mantra all the way to my car.
I was cutting it close getting to Jake's high school before it let out for the day, but I made it just in time. I parked in the visitors' parking lot at an angle with a good view of the student lot. I was still trying to justify following someone who was supposed to be my friend when I spotted his jeep pulling out of the lot. I started my car and quickly pulled out a few cars behind him. I managed to keep at least one car between us at all times since, unlike Knox, Jake did know my car. It was even more important than usual to make sure I was discreet.
I followed Jake to the far side of town to the mall. Maybe Jake was just doing a little shopping. We parked and I followed him inside, making up an excuse as I went just in case he spotted me. That was another lesson from Novak; always have a cover story prepared. Unless you are a pathological liar, most people have trouble coming up with a convincingly innocuous story on the spur of the moment. I decided that if Jake did see me, I was shopping for a new jacket now that it was starting to get cooler.
I followed him around for about an hour, somehow managing to avoid being seen. The only things I learned is that Jake had an affinity for tight clothing, shopped for lotion in Bath & Body and knew practically every kid in the mall. I was just about ready to give up when I noticed a shift in his behavior. He began to look around in a very suspicious manner, throwing quick glances over his shoulder and generally acting extremely guilty. I was staying hidden by ducking into stores and jumping behind racks of clothes, but my spy tactics were drawing attention and making it rather hard to keep a good eye on my quarry. At first, I thought that maybe he had sensed me following him, but I quickly realized that he was up to something.
I slipped behind one of the large potted palm in the middle of the mall and watched him through the fronds as he took one final glance around, then turned suddenly down the hall that led to the bathrooms. I cursed under my breath. There was no way I could follow him in there without him seeing me. I watched from my tropical hiding place while several other guys came and went, all different ages and types, until Jake finally reappeared. All told, he'd been out of sight for about 15 minutes according to my watch. My curiosity raging, I followed Jake as he made directly for the exit. I wanted to take a look around the bathroom, but knew it was probably useless. It seemed more important to follow Jake for now.
Back out on the road, it didn't take me long to realize that he was heading for home. I glanced at my watch and realized that I had to get over to Knox's building soon so I could follow him home as well. What an exciting job I had. I followed Jake until he turned into his driveway. I drove by, hoping and praying he wouldn't glance up at his rearview mirror and see me go by, or if he did, that he wouldn't recognize my car.
I almost missed Knox's exit, he was leaving a little early today, but I got there just in time to fall in behind him. Traffic was light and we made good time back to his house. I parked and watched him walk up to the house. It looked like I would be making a trip to DC this weekend. I'd have to call the missus tomorrow to see what she knew of the business trip and then talk to Novak about making the arrangements. He would have to agree to any trips. I wished I could talk to him about Jake, but I had promised Judy. With a sigh, I started the car and drove home.
"I think you should go," Adam was saying as he washed the dishes from dinner. I was drying and putting them away as he rinsed them off. Adam was in his forties, trim and handsome with graying-reddish hair and blue eyes as calm and cool as a mountain lake.
"I won't even know anyone there," I whined. I was still not completely over my adolescent shyness. We were discussing the gay/straight alliance on campus.
"You'll know that guy Noah," he said as he handed me a plate.
"No, I met him once in the bookstore; that does not equate knowing someone."
"You said he seemed nice."
"He was nice," I conceded.
"Cute?"
"What does that have to do with anything? I'm dating Micah."
"Doesn't mean you're blind. It was just a question, Kill. From your response I take it he was cute though, huh?"
I sighed. "Yes, he was cute. Why do you think I should go? I mean, what's the point?"
"Well, first off, it never hurts to have more friends. Secondly, you probably have something to offer. He said it's a support group; probably some of them are dealing with issues you've already dealt with, like figuring out whether or not you're gay, and coming out. Plus, you know how I like to support these types of things. If they are involved with education on campus and in the community, it's a great cause."
I had to admit he was right. It had been interested when Noah was telling me about it. I just needed a little nudging. I knew I'd probably call Noah later tonight or tomorrow.
We were just finishing up with the dishes when someone rang the doorbell. Kane came clattering down the stairs, making enough noise that he could have been a herd of stampeding buffalo. Adam chuckled.
A few minutes later, Judy appeared in the kitchen door.
"Judy, hello," Adam said warmly.
"Hello Adam, Killian," she said. "I think Kane was a little disappointed to find me on the doorstep. Was he expecting one of his girlfriends, perhaps?"
"Kane's always expecting a girlfriend," I said dryly.
"You want something to drink?" Adam offered. "We just finished dinner, but if you're hungry we can whip out the leftovers. Not much, but..."
"No, no. I'm fine. I had an early dinner with Shane. Actually, I came by to talk to you about Amalie."
"The house or the woman?" Adam asked.
"Both, as they seem to be intertwined quite completely."
"True."
"I'll be upstairs," I interrupted, anxious to leave before I got sucked into the conversation.
"Actually, I'd like for you to stay," Judy said. Damn, I wasn't quick enough.
"Why?" I bleated before I could stop myself.
Judy gave me an appraising look. "Because," she said slowly, "I think you have something to offer, or you would if you'd just quit fighting it."
"Maybe I don't want to," I said. I knew I sounded like a petulant pre-schooler, but I couldn't help myself.
"That much is obvious. Like it or not, you're involved; you are one of the threads of this tapestry. Amalie has shown in the past that for reasons of her own she is drawn to you. I think if we're going to get to the bottom of this, it will take all of us working together."
"The bottom of what? She's dead. And either she hasn't figured it out yet or she just doesn't give a damn. She seems quite content to just haunt the place forever."
"I think you're wrong. I think she's very aware of the fact that she's dead and I think she is very much discontented. Originally, we thought that her discontent had to do with the baby, but now I think that was only a marginal issue, or at least only part of a much larger whole."
"Killian," Adam broke in, "What can it hurt to just sit down and talk with us? As exciting as Steve found all this at first, the thrill has worn off and reality has set in. He's very stressed right now with the possibility that this could all go south quickly and leave him pretty much penniless. He has an awful lot invested in this house. Amalie is not helping things."
"I thought a friendly ghost was a draw," I said.
"Most avid ghost hunters have never seen a ghost and wouldn't know what to do with one if it bit them on the nose. Besides, even people who are interested in ghosts don't necessarily want to spend the night with one. So far, Amalie hasn't chased off any guests, but there haven't been all that many to chase off, and we've made sure to keep them all on the second floor since she seems to favor the third floor. Please, Killian. What could it hurt to just sit down and talk with us about this?"
"Why can't you all just accept that I don't want to do this? I don't care if I have Gifts or not. If they're a gift then I get to decide what to do with them, right? If you give me a butt-ugly sweater, I can choose not to wear it. Well, I choose not to use these so-called Gifts. I'll be up in my room. Don't call if you need me."
I spun around and stormed off.
Kane was in the bedroom when I sailed through the door. He looked up from the computer screen long enough to gauge my mood.
"I take it Judy asked you to help out with Amalie again," he said.
"You knew about that?"
"Yeah, she and Dad have been plotting about the best way to ask you."
"You mean they planned that? I can't believe this."
"Well, you have to admit, you've not exactly been open to the idea."
"I don't see you jumping at the chance to go over there."
"I'm not the one with the Gifts."
I let out a wordless roar that made Kane wince. "I'm so sick and tired of hearing about these damn Gifts," I snarled. "I didn't ask for them and I don't want them. That's my choice and I wish everyone would just leave me the hell alone about them."
"Jeez, Kill," he said, "You don't have to bite my head off. I didn't mean anything by it. If you're going to be all bitchy, I'm going to go downstairs and watch TV." He signed off of the internet and pushed away from the desk.
"I'm sorry, Kane," I said with a sigh.
"Whatever."
I watched him leave, a hurt expression on his face. I hadn't taken the time to look at Judy and Adam when I'd left in my little huff, but I imagine they hadn't been all that happy either. Damn it, why couldn't anyone just leave me alone about this? And why was I so scared of it all? I wasn't in the mood for deep self-examination, so I grabbed my backpack and pulled out my books. Time to get lost in studying.
I called Mrs. Knox the next day in between classes and learned that she knew all about the business trip and she wanted me to follow him. An all-expense paid trip to DC sounded great to me, and it was only a three-hour drive. I wondered why Mr. Knox was taking the commuter plane, but I guess if your company is willing to spring for the tickets, it's better than driving. After classes were over for the day, I went to the office after my last class to talk to Novak.
I found him in his office typing away on a report. He stopped when I stuck my head in the door.
"What's up, kiddo?" he asked. Shane Novak, or just Novak as I called him, was a retired police detective. His wife had died soon after he retired and it hadn't taken him long to realize he wasn't cut out for sitting around the house. And that was the beginning of Novak Investigations. You know right away, just by a glance, that he's retired law enforcement or military. He wears his gray hair in a buzz cut and keeps his body fit and lean. His age was hard to guess, but I knew he had to at least be in his late fifties, and it wasn't impossible that he was even older.
"There's a new development in the Knox case," I told him, still in the doorway.
"Sit down and fill me in," he said, swiveling his leather desk chair around to face me. Novak's office was a comfortably eclectic space. The first things you notice when you walk in are the bookcases; they take up one whole wall, all different heights and woods and all overflowing. There are law books, phone books, atlases, maps, and a set of encyclopedias that were easily older than I was. One case was reserved for his collection of hardcover detective novels, many of which were signed and/or first editions.
In the center of the room sits his desk, a huge expanse of scarred golden oak. I always figured the office must have been built around it since there was no way that mother could have fit through the door. Its top was usually completely clear, unless he was working on a case as he was now, and then the top was apt to be quite cluttered with files, papers, photos and more. Behind the oak behemoth was a daunting procession of battleship-gray filing cabinets, each one meticulously labeled and locked. Two large leather armchairs faced his desk.
For the most part, I liked Novak's office. There was one exception, however, and that was the odd, ugly, humpbacked sofa he kept on the wall opposite the bookcases and under the room's lone window. Now I know that furniture is incapable of harboring ill will, but I would swear that the sofa is evil. It seems to crouch malevolently off to one side waiting for some poor unsuspecting individual to make the fatal mistake of sitting on it. In my imagination, which I admit to being somewhat fanciful at times, I see it then moving with a swiftness that belies its ungainly size to devour the hapless soul whole, and then perhaps spitting out a shoe.
I moved quickly to the armchairs while carefully avoiding looking at the sofa. Somehow, I feel that if I can steer clear of eye contact then it will stay peaceably in its place and leave me alone. As usual, it worked and I arrived at the chair unmolested.
I quickly filled Novak in on what little progress I had made on the Knox case thus far and ended by telling him about the proposed DC trip.
"Will it interfere with your school work?" Novak asked when I was finished.
"No, he isn't checking in until late afternoon and his flight time leaves him just enough time to get there. I can finish my classes that day and still have plenty of time to drive up there before he arrives."
"Have you been to DC much?"
"Not really."
"Damn. I would go with you but my case is close to busting wide open and I can't afford to leave. Do you know anyone who is familiar with the city?"
"Micah used to live there," I told him.
"Do you think he'd be willing to go along with you? We can hire him as a consultant if we need to."
I smiled. "I think he'd be willing to go without the monetary incentive."
Novak chuckled. "I would imagine you're right there. Ask him and let me know what he says. If he can't go, I don't want you going. You don't know the city well enough to be running around on your own."
As much as I liked the idea of having Micah along, I felt I had to defend myself. "I don't need a babysitter."
"I didn't say you did, I just think you need a guide along who is familiar with the city. That is, if you think you can work with your boyfriend along and not get too, ahem, shall we say, distracted?"
I blushed. Novak didn't have any problems with the fact that I was gay, in fact, his grandson was gay too, but it still seemed odd to hear him making comments like that. "I think I'm professional enough to not get distracted," I said rather stiffly.
Novak let out a guffaw. "Kid, there's never been a man born yet who was professional enough to not get distracted by sex. Tell you what though, you do your job well enough, and maybe we'll work something out so that you have some free time. Deal?"
"Deal," I mumbled as my face burned.