Date: Tue, 15 May 2001 18:44:13 EDT
From: Aterovis@aol.com
Subject: Chapter 10 of All Lost Things

Here's Chapter 10. I always feel like 10 is a milestone. I don't know why
exactly, maybe because it's the first chapter to enter the double
digits. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Remember, I value your feedback.

Visit the website to learn about the latest news on Bleeding Hearts.
http://bleedinghearts.nav.to

Chapter 10

	All thoughts of haunted houses and murder cases took a back seat
the following day - it was Independence Day! Adam and Steve had planned a
cookout at our house and then we were supposed to head down to the inlet
beach for fireworks at dusk. Our guests started arriving a little after
noon. We weren't having a big crowd, just Ilana and Lysander with their
little girl Melody and Bryant and Calvin has said they might stop by.

	Lysander and Ilana were old friends of the family. Ilana was Adam's
lawyer when he fought for custody of Kane. She was a tall, elegant woman
with bronze skin, golden brown eyes and straight glossy brown hair that she
wore cut just below her shoulders. She must get it cut once a week because
I had never seen it an inch longer or an inch shorter. Lysander was a very
handsome and distinguished looking black man. His hair was close cropped
and he wore a pencil mustache. His hair had just begun to gray at the
temples. They had different last names, Ilana's was Constantino and
Lysander's Watts, I assume for professional reasons. Their daughter,
Melody, was just a little over a year old. She had a halo of dark curls and
sparkling brown eyes and was, in short, absolutely beautiful.

	We set up a volleyball net on the beach and played volleyball while
Melody played happily in the sand. When we tired of that Steve started the
barbecue grill and Adam mixed the adults drinks. We had just settled down
when Bryant and Calvin arrived. They were a young couple, both in their
mid-twenties, who had been together for several years now. They hadn't been
together too long before Calvin got sick. It was almost a year later before
he was diagnosed with HIV. The last time I had seen him he had looked like
he was slowly fading away, his already pale complexion had become pasty,
his white-blonde hair thin, even his eyes had looked dull. It had been
especially striking in contrast with Bryant's dark good looks and healthy
glow. Having been over six months since I had seen him last I was expecting
the worst. To my surprise, he looked the best I had ever seen him. He'd
gained some weight so he was no longer waif-thin and his cheeks had a rosy
glow. And if he looked happy, Bryant was positively beaming.

	"Wow, you look great!" I blurted out as they followed Adam onto the
back patio.

	Calvin grinned, "Thanks, Killian. You don't look so bad yourself."

	I laughed and blushed. "I just meant..."

	"I knew what you meant, and thanks. The last time you saw me I
looked like death warmed over, right?"

	"Well I don't know if I would have put it that way... So I guess
you're doing well?"

	"Yeah, you could say that," he settled into the chair next to me as
Bryant went over and started talking to Ilana and Lysander. "My biggest
problem wasn't the HIV; it was my state-of-mind. I took it as an immediate
death sentence, as if my life were over the moment they said those magic
words. I went to some counseling with Bryant and I realized that I have a
lot of life left to live. It's not over yet and I'm going to fight it till
the end, whenever that is. I'm on a real aggressive treatment program, diet
and the famous cocktail. So far it's working well for me."

	"Bryant, Calvin, can I get you guys a drink?" Adam asked.

	"I'll take a beer if you've got one," Bryant said.

	"I'll have what Killian's having," Calvin said, pointing to my
soda, "I'm staying away from alcohol."

	"Coming right up," Adam called as he disappeared back into the
house.

	"So what have you been up to since Thanksgiving? Didn't you
graduate this year?"

	"Yeah, last month."

	"What are you doing now, just chillin' or do you have a job?"

	"I'm working for a private investigator; full time for now, part
time when I start college this fall."

	"Whoa, that's off the wall, dude. A private investigator?"

	"It's not like you see on TV," I said. I was glad to be on the
other end of that disclaimer for a change.

	"Still, that's got to be better than working at McDonald's. That's
what I did between high school and college."

	I shrugged, "So far I'm pretty much just the secretary."

	"And let's keep it that way, shall we?" Adam said jokingly as he
handed Calvin his soda. I hadn't even seen him coming. It was a good thing
I had decided not to mention the case I was unofficially looking into with
Novak's help.

	By the time we finished eating - steaks, corn on the cob and baked
potatoes, all cooked on the grill - it was time to head down to the inlet
for the fireworks. We decided to walk there to avoid the horrendous
traffic. Even so, the sun was still hovering low in the sky when we
arrived. We weren't the first by far. The fireworks wouldn't begin until
after dark but it was already packed beyond belief. You could barely move
on the boardwalk. We pushed and shoved our way through, leaving a wake of
apologies and dirty looks, until we reached the sand. We started scouting
for a spot we could claim.

	The fireworks would be shot off from two locations, the pier and
the beach, so it didn't much matter where you sat, the seats would be
great. A local orchestra was playing classical music off to one side. I
knew from experience that they would burst into Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture
when the fireworks began.

	"Killian," a voice called from behind me. I turned and searched the
sea of faces until I spotted a pair of arms waving above the crowd. It was
Laura and Gabe. It didn't take long to realize that they were there with
the entire Davis clan. They were all present and seated on blankets: Alex
and Deb, Asher's parents, Bethany, Marcus, Jamie, Judy, Jake, even Will,
and of course, Asher.

	Laura was waving us over and it would have been awkward to say the
least to refuse. So we all trouped over and spread our blankets out next to
theirs. While introductions were being made for those who didn't know each
other and old acquaintances caught up, I tried to unobtrusively situate
myself as far away from Asher as I could. It wasn't so much that I was
trying to avoid him - or maybe I was. Things had become so complicated
between us that it seemed easier to just stay away from him, at least for
tonight.

	I was sitting lost on my thoughts when Will plopped down next to me
in a shower of sand.

	"I hate the beach," he grumbled.

	"How can you hate the beach?" I asked in amazement.

	"It's not the beach so much as the sand. It just gets in places I
didn't even know I had and God knows sand isn't meant to be there. I feel
like I'm in a giant litter box."

	"It wouldn't be the beach without sand."

	"Yeah, well, like I said: I hate the beach. So, why are you
avoiding Asher?"

	"What? I...I'm not..."

	He laughed, "Never mind. It's probably none of my business."

	"Where's Darin?" I asked, relieved to receive permission to change
the subject.

	"He's home with Mom. I felt awful about leaving him but Mom
insisted. It's the first time I've gone out since he came home. Not to
mention the first time I've really left him like this."

	"He'll be fine. You're mom raised you, right? She knows what she's
doing."

	"It's not that. It's just leaving him. I can't get him off my
mind."

	"You need something or someone to distract you. I'm surprised Bryan
isn't here with you."

	He shot me a funny look. "He called yesterday and invited me to go
somewhere with him to watch the fireworks. I told him no since I didn't
think I'd be able to go then."

	"See!" I crowed, "I told you he was interested in you."

	"I don't know," he said slowly.

	"What do you mean, you don't know? He asked you out! What's not to
know?"

	"Not that. I mean I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."

	"Will," I said gently, "You can't hide away forever. You have to
move on eventually."

	"Eventually maybe, but maybe not right now."

	Our conversation was cut short by forty-five pounds of airborne
six-year-old. Jamie slammed into my chest at full speed, knocking me over
flat on my back.

	"Will you take me to get cotton candy, Killian?" he asked from his
perch on my chest. He threw in a puppy dog look for effect. "Asher won't
take me and Marcus says it's made of puppy piss. It isn't is it?"

	I couldn't help but laugh. "You shouldn't use words like that," I
tried to scold. I'm sure it would have been more effective had I not been
giggling.

	"Words like what?"

	"Forget it. Cotton candy is made from sugar."

	"That must be why it tastes so good. Will you take me? Pleeeease?"

	"Yes, I'll take you. As soon as you get off my chest so I can get
up."

	Jamie let out an ear piercing whoop, jumped up and ran back to his
parents.

	"Pushover," Will said with a grin as I stood up. "Remind me never
to let you baby-sit Darin."

	"You saw it! I was being held hostage."

	Jamie was back in no time clutching a five-dollar bill and with
Jake in tow.

	"Mind if I tag along?" Jake asked.

	I shrugged. "Why not? The more the merrier. Will, you wanna come
too?"

	"Nah, I don't think so."

	I took Jamie firmly by the hand and we waded into the horde.

	"So," Jake said into my ear, "where's the gay scene around here?"

	"What gay scene?" I laughed.

	He frowned. "There has to be something."

	"Look, going from California to the Eastern Shore of Maryland has
to be like culture shock, but you grew up here; you know what it's like."

	"I grew up here but I didn't know I was gay then. I was just
figuring it out when everything happened. Aren't there any clubs or
anything?"

	"Sure, in DC and Baltimore. None around here, at least not like
you're talking about. Maybe in Delaware."

	"Great, so I'm going to be forced to live like a monk to atone for
my sins in California. Is that what you're telling me?"

	I laughed. "I didn't say that."

	"How do you stand it? How do you meet people?"

	"I don't. Asher's the only guy I've ever dated and I've not exactly
jumped back into the dating pool since we broke up."

	"What dating pool? It looks more like a dating puddle. Not even a
puddle; it's a dating...what's shallower than a puddle?"

	"Is this a trick question?"

	"Hey! Are you trying to say I'm shallow?"

	"Perish the thought."

	Our conversation pretty much ended while we waited in line for
Jamie's cotton candy.  We paid for the sugar-on-a-stick and then fought our
way back to where our family and friends waited.

	Soon the fireworks began. They were extraordinary. I love fireworks
anyway, but these seemed especially grand this year. Everyone oo-ed and
ah-ed except for little Melody who started crying from the loud
explosions. Jamie jumped up and down in excitement.

	In the middle of the display I suddenly thought that the only thing
that would have made this day better was if I had someone to share it
with. Without thinking, I turned and searched for Asher. He was sitting on
the far side of our little group, as far from me as he could get. He had
his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms looped around his legs. His
chin rested on his knees as he watched the pyrotechnics. The different
colors lit his face and his hair blew softly; it had grown out even more. A
wave of longing swept over me, so strong that I almost cried out.

	"Are you ok?" someone asked.

	I turned to find Adam had shifted over closer to me.

	"Yeah, why?" I asked as calmly as I could.

	"I just thought you looked a little lost there for a minute."

	"I'm ok," I insisted. Who was I trying to convince, me or Adam? I
turned my attention back to the rockets and lost myself in the music and
color.

	As always, it was over too soon. We said good-bye to the Davis' and
started our walk back. I walked a little behind the others. After a while,
Adam dropped back and matched my pace.

	"So how are you really?" he asked.

	"What do you mean?"

	"I saw you looking at Asher back there. You miss him, don't you?"

	I sighed. "I don't know what I feel, confused mostly. I missed him
tonight, and then other times I hardly even think about him. It's been so
nice just being free for a while."

	"And maybe that's what you needed...for a while. It doesn't mean
it's the way it has to be forever."

	"What if I've screwed things up too much?"

	"It happens. Do you want to get back together with him?"

	"I don't know. Not yet, I don't think."

	"Have you ever been fishing for big fish?"

	That seemed to come from nowhere. "No."

	"When you catch a big fish you're supposed to let him have the hook
for a bit, then you fight him. The object is to keep him on the hook but
tire him out so you can reel him in. But if you play around too much he'll
get away."

	"Thank you, Captain Bob. I'm sure you have a point here
somewhere..."

	"I'm getting to it, don't rush me. My point is; you've got Asher on
the hook right now. And he'll probably stay on the hook for a little while,
but you'd better decide what you want soon or he may just break free."

	"Isn't the rest of that something about plenty of fish in the sea?"

	"Not really, at least not like Asher."

	He left me with that and caught back up with the others. I stayed
back, thinking that it was possible Asher was already off the hook.

* * *
	It was the next afternoon before I got a chance to tell Novak about
my conversation with Caleb. He was busy with another case he was working
on, an insurance scam he was working on for the insurance company.

	During lunch, Novak called me into his office while he ate and
asked me what I thought we should do next on my case. My case he called it!
I pulled out my notebook from my meeting and filled him in. He seemed
impressed by my meticulous notes. After I was done talking we sat silent
for a minute while he chewed.

	"That's a good start, kid," he said around a mouthful of sub. He
took another huge bite and a shower of shredded lettuce along with a slice
of tomato dropped down his front. He looked down mournfully at the small
salad on his lap. "Damn, that'll leave an oil stain on my pants. So what do
you want to do next?"

	"I don't know. I was hoping you'd have some suggestions," I said as
I handed him the trash can. He swept the mess off his lap into the can and
handed it back.

	"I could, but then I'd be calling the shots and this is your case."

	"But you're the one with all the experience." He shot me a look so
I gave in. "Well, I'd like to look at the house. I don't know why, just get
a feel for where it happened I guess." He nodded approvingly so I guess
that was a good sign. "And while I'm there I guess I could talk to the
neighbors."

	He grinned and I felt like a student suddenly gaining the favor of
his favorite teacher, which I guess in a way I was. "That's just what I
would have done," he said. "After I finish eating we'll drive over there
and see what's up."

	"What about your case?"

	"I can't do any more on that until tomorrow."

	"Cool."

	We drove over in Bessie, complete with clunks, bangs and defeated
sighs at every stop. I was afraid she would stop one of these times and
just flatly refuse to start again, but Novak seemed much more confident in
her abilities.

	We eventually arrived at the house in one piece. I pried my fingers
out of the dash board and climbed out.

	The house sat on a patch of weed-filled lawn with one lone, twisted
and scorched tree off to one side. Set a good ways behind was an old barn
with a section of its roof caved in. On one side a row of Leyland Cypresses
separated the Cohen's yard from a modest rancher with a well-kept yard. On
the other side was a small field which led to an old farmhouse a short
distance away. There was nothing across the road except acre upon acre of
flat farmland.

	The centerpiece, of course, was the huge pile of blackened timbers
that sat lurking on the spot I assumed the house once occupied. It had the
feel of death about it, almost like it was the final resting place of some
huge beast. The smoky smell of burnt wood and ash still hung heavy in the
air even though the first had been weeks ago. It brought back fresh
memories from the night I killed Todd, of the house burning down around us,
the intense heat feeling like it would split open my very skin. I shuddered
involuntarily.

	"You ok?" Novak asked, eying me carefully. Everyone seemed to be
asking me that lately. I was beginning to wonder myself.

	"Yeah," I said, keeping my doubts to myself, "I was caught in a
house fire once. This brought back a few memories, but I'm fine."

	"You're sure?"

	"Yeah. What are we looking for?"

	"I don't know that we're looking for anything, really. We're not
professionals in either fires or forensics, so we're not going to bother
with the house itself at all. Just get a feel for the place, walk around,
then we'll try talking to the neighbors."

	"Ok," I agreed and began walking around the house. Little things
kept stirring in my brain, voices rising up like ghosts from my past,
roused by the scents of the recent blaze.

	"Asher! There's a fire!" I'd screamed so long ago.

	"How do we get out?" was Asher's anguished response, and then, "We
can't."

	"Asher, I love you. If we don't survive..."

	"We will!"

	"But if we don't, I want you to know that I'll always love you..."

	It had all been so simple then, in that instant of facing death
head on. I loved Asher and he loved me. What more did we need? "How about a
clue?" I thought bitterly. It wasn't as simple as that, as we'd learned.

	I circled once around the house and then I walked back towards the
barn. I peeked in through the door, which hung crookedly ajar in its rusted
hinges, but decided not to go in. I wasn't sure how much I trusted the
ramshackle structure. I slowly circle the building, peering in windows and
doors as they appeared. My foot fell on something soft and stepped back
quickly. Whatever it was it was black and almost hidden in the tall grass
close to the barn. I crouched down to get a closer look. It appeared to be
a piece of shiny material of some sort. I called Novak over to take a look.

	"Do you think it's anything important?" I asked him as he poked at
it with his pen.

	"I don't know. Do you have any idea what it is?" He hooked it with
the end of his pen and picked it up.

	"It looks like a hood of some sort."

	"I think it's a surfer's hood, see the Velcro here at the bottom?
That's where it would attach to the wetsuit."

	"Oh yeah, I've never surfed but I've seen them before. Do you think
it's a clue?"

	Novak chuckled and pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket, "A clue,
huh? Perhaps Colonel Mustard did it in the conservatory with the wrench."
He dropped the hood into the plastic bag and sealed it up.

	"Go ahead, mock the dumb kid."

	"You're not dumb, kid; just a little green. And as far as whether
or not it's a clue, I have no idea. Looks like the detectives handling the
case would have taken it if they thought it was important, but then again
it's possible they missed it. I'll turn it over to them and tell them where
we found it. I'm sure they'll want to know what the hell I was doing here
but I'll just tell them I was taking a look around for a friend. They won't
give me too hard a time."

	We finished the loop around the barn without any more discoveries,
then we tramped over to the old farm house. On closer inspection it was not
just old, but leaning towards decrepit. It was sadly in need of a paint job
and several panes of glass had been replaced with cardboard and duct
tape. We stepped up onto the sagging side porch, knocked loudly on the door
and waited. No one answered so we knocked again. Still no one came to the
door so we gave up and started traipsing back across the field. I looked
back once and thought I saw a curtain twitch at one of the windows, but
they were far from airtight and it could have just been the wind blowing
through a crack.

	We had to go out on the road to get around the hedge row of trees
in order to reach the other house. The house was well-cared for, in stark
contrast to the house we had just left. Well tended shrubs grew along its
foundation and a wreath hung on the door merrily bid us welcome. We knocked
on the front door and it was promptly opened by a woman I would guess was
in her early thirties. She had auburn hair cut short and friendly brown
eyes. She was slightly overweight but handled it well with stylish
clothing. It was obvious she was a woman comfortable in her body.

	"Can I help you?" she said pleasantly, but warily, as if she
suspected we were Jehovah's Witnesses about to try our best to save her
damned soul from eternal hell.

	"Yes," Novak said, "my name is Shane Novak. I'm a private
investigator and this is my assistant, Killian Kendall. Could we have a few
moments of your time?"

	At the mention of private investigator her eyes widened, but she
stepped out onto the porch. I guess she wasn't quite ready to let us in,
but we were trustworthy enough to talk to outside.

	"I'm Becky Haynes. Is this about what happened next door?"

	I'm always surprised at the lengths some people would go to just to
avoid talking about something unpleasant. I wanted to say, "You mean the
guy getting chopped up with an ax and then burned to a crisp?" but that
seemed a little crude so I let Novak do the talking.

	"Yes, it is. I'm not working with the police on this case so you
don't have to answer my questions if you don't want to."

	"That's ok. Who are you working for, if you don't mind my asking?"

	"We're not really working for anyone. We're here on behalf of a
friend of the young man who's been accused."

	"Caleb?"

	"Yes."

	"Is he ok? I've been worried about him."

	"Well Killian went to see him so I'll let him answer that."

	I was surprised at suddenly being handed the microphone, so to
speak. "I...he...ugh...he seemed ok. He said that you helped him out when
you could."

	"He did? I tried to do what I could. It wasn't easy for him."

	"You knew he was being abused?" Novak asked.

	She looked away. "Everyone knew."

	"Why didn't you report it?"

	"I did. Twice. Nothing ever came of it. After awhile you just get
to the point where you feel there's no point in it. Like I said, I tried to
do what I could."

	"Did you see anything or hear anything the night of the murder?"

	"Not until the fire was pretty high. By then the fire trucks were
almost here. Mrs. Fields called them I think. She had a bout with her heart
right after that. Probably caused by all the excitement. I'm not sure if
she's home yet or not."

	"So you didn't see anything?" he pressed.

	"No, you can see that our view of their yard is pretty well
obstructed by the trees there. We put them in as a windbreak and now
they've all grown together."

	"Who was there that night, do you know?"

	"I know Ira was because he came over a little after six and asked
if we'd seen his dog. He has, or had, this old rabbit hound that loved to
run away whenever it got out of the barn, which was almost weekly." I could
believe that after seeing the state of the barn, and couldn't blame him for
running away either.

	"Anyone else?"

	"I really don't have any way of knowing. Maybe Nadine. She was
there most nights."

	"Nadine was Mr. Cohen's...girlfriend?"

	"I guess you could call her that," Mrs. Haynes said doubtfully.

	"Do you know where we could find this Nadine?"

	"I think she works at a hair salon in town. It's something corny
like Hair Apparent or Mane Attraction...something like that."

	"Do you think you could narrow it down a bit, maybe even give us a
last name?"

	"The last name I don't know, but she was always telling me to come
down and they'd fix me right up. I think she was implying something but I
try not to think about. Let me see if I kept one of her cards."

	She disappeared into the house and came back out a few minutes
later with a business card in her hand. "It was Curl Up and Dye; I don't
know how I could forget a name like that. And her last name is Tingle. You
can keep the card." She handed the card to Novak and he tucked it into his
shirt pocket.

	"Well thank you, Mrs. Haynes. You've been very helpful. Is it
alright if we contact you if we have any more questions?"

	"Please do. Anything to help Caleb."

	We started walking away, but Novak stopped suddenly and turned
around. "One more question, ma'am."

	"Yes?"

	"Do you think Caleb did it?"

	"Killed Ira?" she asked in surprise; shocked, I guess, that we'd
asked her that.

	"Yes."

	She thought for a minute. "I don't know, I honestly don't know. But
I do know I wouldn't blame him if he did." She turned and walked into the
house, shutting the door behind her.