Date: Fri, 22 Mar 2002 10:13:22 EST
From: MystryAuthr@aol.com
Subject: Chapter 9 of 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.