The Truth of Yesterday

Welcome to the next chapter of The Truth of Yesterday. I hope you enjoy it. Visit my website at http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts

Chapter 9

I was sitting in my room that night, alternately brooding about-what else?-Micah and my so-called Gifts. The truth was, I didn't want to deal with either of them. Generally, my defense system can be best described as the Ostrich Syndrome. In short, I stick my head in the sand and hope it goes away. I have to admit that this approach seldom works in any sort of satisfactory manner. Actually, it only serves to allow whatever situation that caused you to bury your head in the first place to bite you on your exposed rump.

I should know; I've been bitten more than once.

Where Micah was concerned, I knew we needed to talk; I just wasn't ready. I was still too hurt and confused. I knew a lot of that was my own doing, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to have a rational discussion with him about any of this until I had managed to calm myself down. There was no point rushing things and just making the whole situation worse by saying things I would regret later.

As for the Gifts, I knew Judy was right about them. That didn't mean I had to like it. I didn't want to see dead people and I certainly didn't want to talk to them. I didn't want any sort of psychic gifts. I mean, what would be next? Would I start reading tea leaves too? Would I tell fortunes at carnivals? Or maybe I should shoot for the stars and hope for my own infomercial on TV. People could call in and I'd tell them their fortunes for the low price of $2.95 a minute. On the other hand, that might be preferable to dealing with the dearly departed.

Someone knocked on my door causing me to jump a little. "Come in," I called. The door remained closed and no one answered. With a sigh, I heaved myself to my feet and opened the door to find the hallway empty.

"Very funny, Kane," I mumbled as I shut the door and turned back to the bed, only to practically jump out of my skin.

"A bit on edge, aren't we?" Seth asked. He was sprawled across my bed, head propped on one hand, his lips twitching with barely suppressed laughter.

"I suppose that was your idea of a joke?" I asked rather testily.

He shrugged a shoulder. "Well, you said you didn't like it when I just appear unannounced so I knocked this time."

"Admit it, you love scaring me."

"Hey, it's one of the joys of being dead."

"If you weren't already dead..."

"Be nice. I came to talk to you."

"And that's supposed to make me want to be nice?"

Seth rolled his eyes expressively and sat up. "Seriously, Killian. We need to talk."

"About what? If this is about my purported Gifts, I've already had one lecture about them today, I don't need another."

"Oh well, I was going to bring that up, but it's not the main reason I'm here. But while we're on the subject, have you made up your mind yet about them?"

"No, I haven't and I don't intend to be rushed on this either."

"Who's rushing you?"

"You, Judy, Adam..."

"It's only because we care."

"I wish you cared a little less."

He frowned. "You don't mean that."

I sighed and sat down next to him on the bed. "No, I don't. Not really," I admitted. "It just gets a little frustrating sometimes. I feel like I don't even have a choice in the matter."

"Of course you have a choice. We all have choices. Every minute of every day, we make choices. And you even have choices within the choices. Even if you decide to accept your Gifts and learn to use them, what you do with them is still up to you."

"Is it? What about my big purpose Judy was talking about."

His eyes shifted away. "Oh, that."

"Yeah, that." I looked at him closely. "Do you know what it is?"

He shrugged.

"You do, don't you?"

He cleared his throat uneasily. "You know I can't talk about that."

"Oh for God's sake..."

"Exactly."

That stopped me. Rather hard to argue with deity. "Well, can you at least tell me how long I have to get ready?"

He shook his head, still not meeting my eyes.

I fought down my aggravation. It wasn't Seth's fault, and I knew that. It wouldn't be fair to take out all my frustrations on him. Then another thought occurred to me. "Is this mysterious purpose why you started coming to see me?"

He jerked around to look me in the eye. His surprised expression was all the answer I needed. "W-why would you say that?" he stammered.

It was my turn to shrug. "Not too many people get personal visits from their deceased friends. If the rules are being bent for me, then there must be some pretty significant reasons behind it."

Seth opened and closed his mouth a few times before answering. "Not too many people have your Gifts either," he said finally.

"And we're back to that."

"It all comes back to that eventually," he said apologetically.

"You said that wasn't the main reason you came. What was?"

"This thing with Micah..."

"I should have known," I moaned.

"It's not like that," he said defensively.

"Oh really? So you're not going to say don't make snap judgments? You're not going to tell me to talk things out with him? And you're not going to tell me to give him the benefit of the doubt?"

"Ha! You don't know me as well as you think you do. I was also going to tell you that it wouldn't hurt to educate yourself before you made any decisions," he said archly.

I stuck my tongue out at him and then frowned. "Educate myself?"

"Yes. About escorts."

I made a face. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because, before you go pulling some sort of holier-than-thou shtick you may want to know what you are condemning."

"I'm not condemning anything," I protested.

"Aren't you?"

"No, I'm not." A pause, "Am I?"

He gave me a look that clearly said you figure it out for yourself.

"Why is everything always so hard?" I asked plaintively. He opened his mouth to answer and I rushed on, "And please don't say that I make it hard."

His mouth closed with a snap and he grinned at me. "Then I don't have any other answers."

I grabbed a pillow from behind me and threw it at him. I was more than a little surprised when it went right through him.

"Neat trick, huh?" he said with a self-satisfied smirk. "Oh, quit gaping. It's really not attractive."

"You know," I said slowly. "I almost forget sometimes that you aren't really here."

"Oh, I'm here; you just forget that I'm not really alive."

"Why is it that you don't bother me, but Amalie does?"

He thought a minute before responding. "Well, you knew me. We were friends. That may make it easier. Plus, it's really not quite the same thing, you know. Amalie's not really here by choice, like I am. And she can't just leave whenever she wants to and go back to the other side. She's full of pain and anger and you can't help but sense that."

"What do you mean I can't help but sense it? Can anyone sense it?"

"No," he said slowly.

"Is it because I can see her?"

"No," he said again, dragging the word out.

"Is it because I can talk to her?"

"No..."

"Oh great? Is this another Gift?"

"Possibly."

"Possibly? It either is or isn't. So which is it?"

"I shouldn't have said anything," he said sheepishly.

"Well, you did, so explain what you meant."

"Have you ever heard of empathy?"

"It's kind of like sympathy, right?"

"Close, but not exactly. They both have to do with feelings. With sympathy, you might feel sorry for someone because of something that has happened to them, or even relate to them because you've experienced something similar. Empathy goes beyond that to actually feeling the emotions felt by the other person, experiencing them for yourself as if they were your own."

"I have that?"

"To some degree. It's part of what makes you such a good investigator."

"How would that help?"

"It usually makes it very easy for you to read other people, to understand their true intentions and judge what kind of people they are."

"The way I can sometimes just know someone is lying to me without really knowing why?"

"Yeah. Most of the time, it's probably not even something you do consciously, it's just instinct. It's a part of who you are."

"That seems like it could be a useful Gift."

"They're all useful, Kill. They're tools, just like anything else. It can also be a handicap though. Empathy can sometimes cloud your judgment; you get so caught up in someone's pain or loss that they can manipulate you, maybe without even trying to."

"Like with Caleb." I'd known instinctively that there was something wrong about him but I'd let his story of abuse and his pain overshadow that...and almost ended up dead in the process.

"Right. Understanding your Gift, both its strengths and its weaknesses, could help you to avoid similar situations in the future."

"Do I have other Gifts?"

"I don't know." I gave him a skeptical look. "Really, I don't. I only knew about the empathy because it's a pretty obvious one and it's already manifested itself clearly."

"Oh," I said in disappointment.

He grinned.

"What?" I demanded.

"At least I've got you interested now."

"Did you do that on purpose? You manipulated me, didn't you?"

"I honestly didn't."

I had the suspicious feeling that even if Seth hadn't been the one manipulating our conversation, someone somewhere was pulling some strings, and I didn't like the feeling one bit.

Seth stood up. "Well, I've done what I came here to do. I guess I'd better be going."

"Wait," I called, sitting up suddenly.

"What?"

"I still have questions."

"That's what Judy is for."

"Well don't just vanish. Do you have any idea how creepy that is?"

"No," he said with a broad wink, and then he just simply wasn't there anymore.

"Jerk!" I yelled at the thin air.

My bedroom door swung open to reveal a rather startled looking Kane. "What did I do now?" he asked in an injured tone.

"I wasn't..." I started to say that I hadn't been yelling at him, but then realized that would just beg the question who had I been yelling at then. It would be difficult to explain that I had been yelling at his dead brother. I tried to think of an excuse but nothing came quickly enough.

"You know," said Kane, looking very hurt, "you're the one who's been a jerk lately. You're always in a bad mood and I'm really getting sick of it. You're not the only one with problems you know."

"Kane, I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "I know I've been selfish and moody and I really am sorry."

He looked somewhat mollified. "You want to talk about it?" I offered tentatively.

"Do you really care?"

"Of course I care. You're my little brother."

With a sigh of relief, he shut the door and came to sit next to me on the bed. "It just seems like everything's been going wrong lately."

"Like what?"

"Jen broke up with me, Jake's been acting weird, and it feels like our family is being torn apart."

"Whoa." I didn't even know where to start. I decided to get what I thought to be the easy one out of the way first. "What happened with you and Jen?"

"I dunno. I thought everything was fine and then suddenly she just dumped me."

"Were you serious about her?"

"No, not really," he admitted grudgingly.

"So, it's just a matter of you not being used to being the dumped instead of the dumper, huh?"

"I guess."

"Is this something that's going to hurt your rep as the school stud?"

He blushed but looked perversely pleased. "Not really," he said with a little smirk.

"Then what's the big deal?"

"It's not really. It just hurt my feelings. I mean, it's not like I even liked her that much. I was probably going to break up with her soon."

"So that's what this is really about. It's not even about being dumped really, you're just mad because she dumped you first."

He grinned. "Ok, yeah. You make me sound so shallow."

I laughed but then quickly turned serious. "So what's this about Jake?" I took a professional interest in this, but tried to keep my voice from betraying more than brotherly concern.

"Well, you know how when he first came back we hung out a little? We weren't best friends or anything, but we did stuff together and we at least talked. Now I hardly ever see him anymore and when I do, he doesn't say a word to me. So I started asking around and all his friends say he's been acting the same way with them. He's either completely ditched them or he avoids them."

I frowned. Things kept looking worse and worse. What had Jake gotten himself into? "Do his friends know what's going on?" I asked hopefully.

Kane shook his head. "Nobody knows anything. A couple of them said it was gradual and some said it happened all at once, but whatever is going on he's done a great job of keeping it secret."

I sighed and decided to bring Kane in on Judy's request. "Judy's worried too," I told him.

Kane's eyes widened. "She doesn't know what's going on either?" he asked. He tended to see Judy as some sort of all-knowing Oracle. His expression clearly said if she didn't know then all hope is lost.

"Kane, how would she know? Jake isn't talking to her either. He hardly even comes home anymore. In fact, she's so worried she hired me to look into it."

"You're investigating Jake?" he asked in slack-jawed surprise.

"Yeah," I said, suddenly feeling guilty all over again.

Kane blinked a few times then his expression changed from shocked to thoughtful. "I guess if he isn't telling anyone what's going on he didn't leave a lot of choice to those of us who care about him."

I was a little surprised by his reaction and didn't know quite what to say.

"I mean, it sounds to me like he's gotten involved with something he doesn't want anyone to know about, right?"

I nodded. "Any ideas?"

He thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Sex? Drugs? Rock and roll? Who knows? He's not dropped any clues as far as I can see."

"I might have found a few clues today, but I still don't know what they mean," I said and I told him what I had found in the hidden compartment of Jake's box.

"Maybe he's selling drugs," he suggested when I had finished.

"Then what's the deal with the AIDS Ball and who's the guy in the picture?"

"Maybe he's hoping to do business at the ball."

I gave him a doubtful look. "With who? The governor?"

"I don't know how this stuff works. Do I look like a drug dealer?"

"What exactly does a drug dealer look like?"

"Good point."

"And that still doesn't answer the question, who is the guy?"

"Maybe he's Jake's supplier."

"He didn't look like a supplier. He looked like a politician or somebody important."

Kane eyes flew open wide. "You don't think he's been hired to kill that guy, do you?"

I couldn't help but burst out laughing. "You think Jake is an assassin?"

Kane smiled sheepishly. "It sounds pretty stupid when you say it."

"Trust me, it sounded just as stupid when you said it."

"Well, if he's not selling drugs and he's not a killer-for-hire, where else could he be getting his money?"

"That's not all he could be selling," I said slowly.

"You mean...?" Kane said with understanding. "You think he's selling his body?"

Micah's story about the ready cash available to escorts came unbidden to my mind. "It's possible," I said. "But we shouldn't jump to any conclusions until we know more. I've barely begun to look into this."

"Too bad you can't get into the AIDS Ball. It would be interesting to know why he is going."

My eyes lit up at his words. "Who says I can't get in?"

"Kill, there's no way you can afford those tickets," Kane said reasonably.

"No, but Novak has contacts coming out the wazoo."

"Sounds painful. Do you really think he can get you in?"

"I don't know, but I'll find out tomorrow. In the meantime, would you do me a favor? Can you keep your eyes and ears open at school? Listen for any gossip or rumors going around about Jake. Sometimes there can be just enough truth in those to set me in the right direction."

"No, problem."

"And Kane, I don't have to tell you to keep quiet about this, right? I mean you can't tell anyone."

"No duh, Killian. I'm not a dumb little kid anymore. I'm not that much younger than you, you know."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that I don't believe in you or that I didn't think you were smart. I know you are; you know I'm really proud of you."

"Actually I didn't know that."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. We're not as close as we used to be. None of us are."

"Is that what you meant when you said you felt like the family is falling apart?"

"Yeah. I hardly ever see Steve anymore; he's at the stupid B&B so much. And Dad's almost as bad. And when they are here, they're so busy they don't have time to spend with me. I know I sound like a little kid now, after I just said I was so grown up..."

"No, you don't sound like a little kid. I know what you mean. And I've been just as bad. I've been so busy with school and work and...Micah that I haven't spent any time with you."

He nodded. "I know."

"Well, now that I realize what a jerk I've been we're going to spend more time together. And you should talk to Adam and Steve too."

"They don't need any extra stress right now," he said, suddenly sounding very mature indeed. "Especially not after what happened the other night."

"What did happen anyway?" I asked, suddenly feeling guilty for not asking before this.

"Amalie," he said as if that answered everything.

"What about her?"

"It was the first weekend they've had almost every room full and she decided to make an appearance."

"Oh no! Did everyone see her?"

"No, it was just one couple, but they raised hell. They had everyone in the whole house completely freaked out. Dad was there because it was such a big crowd, so between him and Steve, they managed to calm everyone down for the most part, but several couples still left and demanded their money back."

"Great, just what they needed. Steve has been stressed out enough as it is."

"I know. That's why I don't want to say anything right now. I'll wait until things settle down there."

"What if things don't settle down?"

He shrugged. "Then I suffer in silence," he said as he stood up and started for the door. "I'm a big boy, remember? I can live without my daddy."

I sighed and flopped back onto the bed. Just what I needed; more guilt about not using my Gifts. It seemed like the powers that be were conspiring against me and I was quite certain I wasn't happy about that at all.

My plans to ask Novak about the AIDS Ball were postponed the next morning. As soon as I walked through the door, I knew it was going to be one of those days. The tiny reception area that held my desk and two hideous orange chairs for waiting visitors was filled to overflowing. A woman I had never seen before was perched nervously on the edge of one of the chairs, clutching her purse like a shield. Another woman I recognized as Mrs. Knox, the wife of the philandering Mr. Knox. She was busy yelling at Novak, apparently, from what I could catch, over some of the charges on her bill. This was a common enough occurrence. If you came back with good news, they were only too happy to pay the bill, but come back with bad news... The other occupants in the room were our delivery guy from UPS and someone that I thought might be representing the insurance company that Novak did work for from time to time. If it was him, he'd been in often enough that I should have known him by now, but he was so nondescript that I could never really remember what he looked like from visit to visit. He was the type of guy you forgot as soon as he was out of sight, and maybe even before.

It was about four too many people to fit comfortably into the already claustrophobic space. I dealt with the UPS guy first, signing for the envelope so he could leave. Then I ushered the insurance guy-it turned out to be him after all-into Novak's office to wait for him there. By the time I had done that, Novak had somehow managed to calm Mrs. Knox down and had even gotten a check out of her.

Once she was gone, Novak disappeared into his office and that only left the small bird-like woman on the chair, who was still looking rather frightened. I got the impression that she would have bolted long ago if there hadn't been so many people between her and the door. Even now that it was just her and I, she kept darting little glances in the direction of the door as if she was still debating flight.

"Can I help you?" I asked, causing her to jump a little.

"Um, I, uh, don't know," she said, casting a longing look at the door.

"Are you looking for a private investigator?"

Her pale blue eyes shifted to me for a brief second, but quickly slid away again. "Maybe," she said.

Not the most definite creature I've ever met, I thought. "Would you feel more comfortable talking directly with Mr. Novak? I asked. Sometimes people who had matters of a sensitive nature didn't want to spill their guts to someone they assumed to be the secretary, and who looked like a kid besides.

She nodded timidly.

"What's your name and I'll let him know you are here to see him as soon as he's available." She'd seen him go into the office with the insurance guy so she knew he was busy at the moment.

Her eyes grew large at the seemingly simple request. "I, uh...I'd rather not. Maybe...uh, maybe this wasn't a good idea."

She made a move as if to get up and I quickly smiled soothingly-at least, I hoped it was a soothing smile; she was still looking at me as if she half-expected me to leap across the desk at her.

"If you'd rather not give your name, that's just fine. It happens all the time here."

"Really?" she asked as she lowered her bottom back to the chair, although still staying right at the edge so as to make a sudden getaway easier should the need arise.

"Really," I assured her. She seemed to relax the slightest bit, until the door flew open again and she tensed up as if expecting an attack.

It was Micah.

"Micah," I said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He gave me a funny look that I couldn't quite read. "I came to talk to you," he said simply.

"I..." I glanced towards the woman, who was trying desperately to pretend she wasn't there. "I'm not sure I'm ready to talk."

"Relax, Killian," he said with a sigh. "I'm not here to talk about that."

"Then what do you want to talk about?" I asked in confusion.

"I want to hire you," he said to my complete and utter shock.