Date: Sat, 28 Apr 2001 12:05:42 EDT
From: Aterovis@aol.com
Subject: Chapter 8 of All Lost Things

Chapter 8

	Life is funny sometimes. Not ha-ha funny; the kind of funny where,
for the life of you, you just can't figure out what the hell is going
on. Every time you think you're starting to understand the rules of the
game, something or someone comes along and throws you a curveball—or
three.

	First there was the whole mess with Asher breaking up with me and
making it seem to be my idea. I had to admit I still hadn't sorted out all
my feelings on that one. I'd been busy enough with my new job that I hadn't
really had time to dwell on it all that much, but I had recently realized
that I hadn't been as upset as you would expect over my break-up with my
boyfriend of almost two years. I had hardly been more than a speed bump. I
wasn't sure what, if anything, that said about me. Maybe it said more about
us.

	Then there was this whole fiasco of moving to the Adam's Family
homestead. It was causing a definite tension between Adam and Steve. I
hoped they weren't heading for a break-up too.

	And as if that wasn't enough, now Jake was kissing me. I wasn't at
all sure how I felt about that. I'd always been attracted to Jake. I mean,
who wouldn't be? But it was only on a strictly physical level. It was that
animal attraction and his aggressive manner that had thrown us together the
first time. But I'd grown a lot since then.

	"I'm not going to lie to you, Jake," I said softly, "I am attracted
to you."

	With a sexy grin he moved in for another kiss. I placed both hands
against his chest and gently but firmly pushed him back.

	"But that's all it is, Jake, a physical attraction."

	"What do you mean?" he asked, his face a study in confusion.

	"Maybe that was enough once, if it ever was, but it's not now. I
need more than that. I don't need a meaningless fling right now. I don't
even need a boyfriend. I have too much going on that I haven't figured
out. What I do need is a friend. Think you'd be interested in the
position?"

	"I don't know," he said slowly, "What are the requirements?"

	I smiled. "Just be yourself."

	"I think I can handle that," he said with a smile of his own.

	"And no pressure to be anything more," I added.

	He nodded and we started walking back, side-by-side in a
companionable silence.

	"You know," he said, stopping suddenly a short ways from the house,
"Out in California it was so different from here. Especially where we
were. It seemed like everyone wanted something from you, usually sex. It
was easy to just fall into the same patterns everyone else was following. I
was still really confused and angry about everything that happened. Hell, I
was just plain messed up. I still am. That's one of the reasons we moved
back here. Do you know that I probably slept with more than twenty people
while we were there? I lost count."

	"Jake!" I gasped.

	"Don't worry, I always used protection and get tested
regularly. That's not my point."

	"But twenty?"

	"Yeah, I was a slut. But my point is, I've forgotten what it's like
to just be friends with someone, with no strings attached."

	"Why are you telling me all this?"

	"Isn't that what friends do, tell each other everything? I just
want you to know that I'm a little rusty on this whole friend thing. I'm
probably going to screw up; you should know that now. Like when I was
coming on to you back there, it was just, like, force of habit, you know?
It was like I couldn't stop myself. And I hated myself the whole time."

	"Gee…thanks."

	"I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly.

	"I know. I was just trying to make a joke."

	"Oh. Well, what I meant was that…oh hell, I don't know what I
meant. What I'm trying to say is that I do want to be your friend. I just
want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

	"I'll take the risk."

	"Thanks. And thanks for not letting me screw it up."

	"Hey, what are friends for? Just be careful because I'm not at all
sure I'd be able to say no and second time."

	He grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *
	I walked slowly down the beach by myself. Fog swirled around me and
blew across the sand in undulating and ever-changing patterns. Everything
seemed softened, even the sound of the waves crashing in seemed muted.

	Suddenly, through the fog, I spotted a familiar form walking in
front of me. I stepped up my pace but he somehow stayed just ahead of me,
winking in and out in the mist.

	"Seth!" I called out. He turned and smiled, then, with a little
wave he turned and disappeared into the fog. I started to run, trying to
catch up to him. I saw him again, this time within reach; I grabbed his
shoulder. He turned around but it wasn't Seth. It was Todd and suddenly we
were back in the room the night he tried to kill Asher, Jake and me, but
now it was just me and him. I was holding a gun in my hand, pointed
straight at Todd.

	"You took Seth away from me," I screamed. I pulled the trigger,
once, twice, three times. There was no sound, just the sight of Todd
crumpling to the ground, his blood a brilliant splash of red. I stood
looking down at his lifeless body until I felt a presence beside me. I
looked up to see Seth looking at me in horror.

	"You killed him! You're no better than him."

	With a gasp I sat straight up in my bed. Weak sunlight shone
through the window and across my sheets. Kane slept peacefully in his bed.

	I hadn't dreamed about Seth in a long time.

* * *
	Asher was fifteen minutes late meeting me at the restaurant where
we had agreed to meet. I sipped a cappuccino while I waited and wondered
what the hell I was doing there. I didn't know this kid, why should I care
what happens to him? Besides my insatiable curiosity, I knew I was doing it
for Asher. Whether or not we were dating, we'd shared too much to turn my
back on him now.

	He came through the door looking as good as ever. His curly black
hair was still wet from his shower. He was wearing a silvery-blue pullover
that set off his eyes and a dark blue pair of cargo shorts. He slid into
the seat across from me.

	"Hi, Kill. Thanks for doing this."

	"I've not done anything yet."

	"You're here, that's something."

	"I'm not sure what I'm doing here."

	"You're good at this kind of stuff. I wouldn't even know where to
begin."

	"So what am I supposed to be doing anyway, interrogating the kid?
This is all kind of weird."

	"How is it weird? I just want you to meet him. Once you meet him
you'll know he didn't do this. He couldn't have done what they're saying he
did. It's not in him."

	"There's a lot more in any of us then we even know," I said,
thinking about my dream.

	"What do you mean?" he asked.

	"I killed Todd."

	"But you had to. It was self-defense."

	"I still killed a person, Asher. I took someone's life. Maybe this
kid felt like it was in self-defense. His dad abused him so he whacked
him."

	"Whacked? You sound like a gangster. And his name is Caleb. If you
already think he's guilty why are you even doing this?"

	"I told you, I don't know why I'm here. I wouldn't be doing this
for anyone else."

	An unreadable look came into his eyes. "Do you still love me?"

	"What? I...Yeah, of course I do."

	"You do?"

	"You thought I stopped loving you? Did you stop loving me?"

	"Yes…I mean, no. I mean, I didn't know what to think. You were
acting so weird. You never talked to me, I mean really talked about
important things. You never told me how you were feeling, what you were
thinking."

	"Maybe I wasn't ready for the kind of relationship we had."

	"What do you mean?"

	"I think we moved too fast."

	"Too fast? Killian, if we went any slower we'd be dating at a
retirement center."

	"We were kids. Hell, we still are. I'd never dated anyone before
and suddenly here I was in a long-term relationship. I wasn't ready for
that."

	"I thought you just said you loved me."

	"I did. I do. It's just that…I don't know what I want right
now. I feel like I'm searching for something, but I don't think I'm going
to find it in a relationship. Not right now, anyway. I don't want to lose
our friendship. You're a part of my life and I've missed you."

	"I've missed you too. I don't know what to do. Let's just do this
now and worry about the rest later."

	We stood up and walked out to the parking lot.

	"Are we going in one car or taking both?" I asked.

	"It's silly to take both. Why don't you just drive with me?"

	I climbed in and we set off. Conversation was kept to a minimum and
what little there was seemed superficial. I was relieved when we arrived at
the Juvenile Detention Center where Caleb was being held.

	It was a squat brick building, not the most architecturally
interesting structure. The small lawn had been attractively landscaped,
though, and an American flag flapped in the breeze.

	We went in and told them uniformed lady at the front desk who we
were there to see. There was some discussion on her phone, then we had to
sign into a register. We were led to a room with a bank of booths with a
glass wall separating us from an identical set-up on the other side. We had
to wait a few minutes before Caleb was led in.

	I stared at him in surprise. My first impression was that Asher was
right, there was no way this kid could have killed anyone. He was small,
maybe 5'3" and if he weighed more than 100 pounds I'd be shocked. He had a
mop of light brown hair and enormous brown eyes that radiated anguish like
a beacon. His thin lips were pressed together nervously as he looked me
over. He settled into the seat across from us and fixed his mournful gaze
on Asher.

	"Caleb, this is Killian. He's the one who's going to help us prove
your innocence."

	I tried not to wince at Asher's over-the-top dramatics. Caleb's
eyes shifted to me again before sliding back to Asher. He reminded me of a
puppy that's been kicked by its owner one too many times and now it's
distrustful of all humans.

	"How's he going to do that?" he asked in a soft voice.

	"He's a detective," Asher said.

	"I'm not a detective," I interjected, "I'm a secretary at a
detective agency."

	"But you're just like a detective and you've solved a murder
before." Asher gave me a look that I interpreted to mean he wanted me to
play the master sleuth for Caleb's benefit. I had no intentions of
pretending to be anything I'm not.

	"I didn't solve anything. I was just as surprised as everyone
else."

	"Well, your boss is helping too, and he's a real detective. He used
to be a police detective and everything."

	I couldn't argue with that. Caleb's eyes darted back and forth
between us as if he was watching a tennis match.

	"So you're, like, going to find out who really killed my dad?" he
said guardedly.

	"We're going to try," I said quickly, before Asher could make any
promises.

	"How?"

	I shifted uncomfortably. "We'll ask questions. Talk to people. Look
around…"

	"And that's going to find out who killed him?"

	"Maybe."

	"What kinds of questions will you ask?"

	"Uh, well, we'll ask your neighbors if they saw anything that
night. Stuff like that." I decided that it was time to take control of this
conversation, "Do you know who would want to see your dad killed?"

	"You mean besides me?"

	"Um, yeah."

	"Everyone who ever met him? He was a bastard, plain and simple."

	"Is there anyone in particular? Who should we talk to? Help us out
here."

	"He had a girlfriend. Her name is Nadine. I can't remember her last
name. Tyndall? Tinkle? Something like that."

	I pulled out a notebook and I had stuck in my pocket and jotted the
name. "Anyone else? Did he have a job?"

	"He worked part time as a security guard at a hotel downtown. I
can't remember who his boss is…was. I think it was the Ease Inn."

	"What about your mom?"

	His eyes dimmed and he looked away. "She's dead."

	"How long ago?"

	"I was little. I just woke up one morning and my dad said she was
gone. When I asked him what he meant he said, `Dead, boy. Your mom is dead
and gone.' Things got worse from then on."

	"How do you mean?"

	"That's when he started hitting me. Before that he mostly just hit
her, he only hit me when I was bad or did something wrong."

	"Did he hit you a lot?"

	His haunted eyes found mine and locked onto them. I couldn't look
away. "Every day," he said as matter of fact as if he'd just commented on
the weather.

	It took me a moment to find my voice again. "Is there anyone else
who might have wanted to kill him?" I asked finally.

	Caleb shrugged.

	"What about your neighbors?"

	"There's old Mrs. Fields on one side, but she's deaf and
half-blind. She wouldn't know if someone chopped dad up in the middle of
her living room." I flinched at the coldness in his voice. "The Haynes's
live on the other side. They don't have any kids. Becky, that's the wife,
she was real nice to me. She'd let me come over sometimes when Dad was
drinking. And she always gave me food. I guess I don't look like I eat
enough. Her husband, Terry, was alright too, but he was real quiet and he
worked a lot."

	I was scribbling the whole time he talked. It was easier than
looking into those eyes. They seemed like endless pools of misery, their
depths formed from years upon years of pain and torture. Now that he'd
stopped talking, though, I couldn't avoid looking up. He was watching me
closely.

	"Are you really going to help me?" he asked. There wasn't any hope
in the question; as if he already knew the answer and it wasn't what he
wanted to hear.

	"I'm going to look into it," I said carefully.

	He frowned. "Don't bother."

	"What?" I asked in confusion.

	"Caleb, Killian's good," Asher said quickly, "He came here to talk
to you today. Give him a chance. Let him help you."

	"How can he help me if he doesn't believe I'm innocent?"

	"I didn't say—"

	"You didn't have to. I can tell you think I did it. If you've
already made up your mind that's not the kind of help I need."

	"If there's one thing I've learned from past experience it's that I
can't go into something like this with preconceived notions. I miss too
much that way. I have to keep my mind open and that means I can't go in
assuming you didn't do this just because you say you didn't. I'm also not
going to assume you did do it just because the police think you did. I'm
going to be as unbiased as I know how, and since I don't know you, your
dad, or anyone else involved that shouldn't be that hard."

	Caleb thought for a minute and then nodded slightly. "Fair enough,
I guess I have to take what I can get. It's not like I can afford to hire a
decent lawyer."

	"Is the State appointing one for you?"

	"I guess so."

	"Why do the police seem so sure you did it?"

	"Because I ran away from the group home I was in."

	"Why?"

	"Why not? It was better than staying there. If I wanted to get the
shit beat out of me every day I could have just stayed with Dad."

	"Where'd you go?"

	He looked away. "No where special."

	"You had to go somewhere."

	"I just wandered around."

	"The police picked you up on the boardwalk, right? Is that where
you went?"

	His eyes narrowed. "You've done some homework. No, I'd just gotten
to the boardwalk when the police grabbed me. I didn't even know what was
going on at first. I thought they were going to take me back to the group
home, so I ran from them. They caught me, though. That's when I found out
that my dad was dead. And that they thought I had done it."

	"So you didn't know that he was dead before they found you?"

	"Nope, that was the first I'd heard of it. Not that I was all that
broken up. I hated him."

	I tried to think of any more questions. I wished Novak was there or
that I'd asked him what kinds of things to ask. I was trying to remember
every police show I'd ever watched.

	"Where were you when they say your dad was killed?"

	"I told you, I don't know. I was just wandering around, working my
way towards the boardwalk."

	"Why were you heading towards the boardwalk?"

	He shrugged, "I don't know. I thought I might run into someone I
knew."

	"And did you?"

	"I didn't see anyone until the cops busted me."

	"So you don't have an alibi?"

	"I didn't know I was going to need one."

	The door opened behind us and a guard stepped in. "Times up, guys,"
he said genially.

	Caleb stood up and looked intently at Asher. Then he placed his
hand flat against the glass and Asher placed his against Caleb's. They
stood like that for a second and then Caleb turned and walked away without
another word. A guard was waiting to take him away.

	"What was that about?" I asked Asher as soon as we were outside.

	"What?"

	"That whole hand thing."

	"He was just saying good-bye," Asher said defensively.

	"I think there's something going on between you two, but that's
none of my business. What is my business, though, is that there was
something very odd about that whole interview."

	"What do you mean odd?"

	"If you were accused of killing your father, wouldn't you
explicitly say that you didn't kill him? He never once actually said I
didn't kill my father, not even when he was walking away. He doesn't seem
at all concerned about who did kill him."

	"He hated his dad, Killian. The man beat him every day of his life;
for no reason. You can't expect him to be in mourning. A part of him is
probably glad he's dead."

	"A part of him? I'd say it's more like all of him. He's a cool
customer, Ash. Be careful."

	"You think he did it, don't you?"

	"Like I said, I try to keep an open mind. But if I had to say one
way or the other right now, then yes, my gut instinct says he did it."

	"Killian!"

	"Look, I never promised that I would believe his innocence. I said
I would look into it and I will. But if I find more evidence that he did do
it, I'm not going to hide that. I'll turn it over to the police. I can't
even say that I blame him really. If I was in his shoes maybe I would have
done the same thing. There were times when I hated my dad enough to kill
him and he didn't beat me every day. But the difference is I didn't kill my
dad."

	"And you don't know that Caleb did either. What ever happened to
innocent until proven guilty? He's already been tried and convicted by the
police and the newspapers and now you too."

	"You know Asher, sometimes things are just as they appear."

	"And sometimes appearances can be deceiving."