Date: Mon, 11 Feb 2002 11:31:31 EST
From: MystryAuthr@aol.com
Subject: Chapter 3 of The Truth of Yesterday

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.