All Things Lost (36 page)

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Authors: Josh Aterovis

BOOK: All Things Lost
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     “Well, thank you so much for your help, but we'd better get going now,” Novak said.

     She snapped open her shopping cart with a grunt and rolled off down the street in the opposite direction of the way she'd said Rachel worked.

     “Good,” Novak mumbled, “At least she won't be hovering around to hear that our stories are different.”

     “What are we going to say to Rachel?” I asked as he started off at a fast clip in the direction the old woman had indicated. I had to almost run to keep up.

     “The truth I think.”

     “Works for me,” I said. I never was a very good liar and all these different stories were beginning to confuse me.

     We found the convenience store Rachel's neighbor had told us about and went inside. It was a clean, well-stocked establishment, brightly lit and very pleasant. It seemed to me that Ms. Cohen
aka
Shannon
could have done much worse for herself in the job department. After a quick glance around the store I took in Rachel Cohen. She was small-boned and thin and bore more than a passing resemblance to her son, Caleb. Or actually I guess Caleb looked like her. She had the same unruly light brown hair and deep sorrowful brown eyes.

     She didn't pay much attention to us at first, assuming we were just customers. Novak made a bee-line for the counter.

     “Hi, can I help you?” she asked brightly as we approached.

     “I hope so,” Novak answered. “Are you Rachel Shannon?”

     Curiosity flickered in her eyes but no caution or fear as of yet. “Yes, that's me.”

     
“Formerly Rachel Cohen?”

     That caught her attention. Her eyes widened in fear and she looked around the store as if she was looking for the nearest exit.

      “Mrs. Cohen, it's important that we speak to you about your husband and son.”

     “Who the hell are you?” she hissed.

     “We're private investigators working on behalf of your son.”

     She looked confused now. “Caleb hired you? Why?
To find me?”

     “No, Caleb believes you are dead. That's what his father told him.”

     Rachel turned deathly pale and for a moment, I thought she was going to pass out. “I…I guess that's better than the truth; that I just up and left him.”

     “Mrs. Cohen…”

     “Please call me Ms. Shannon. I haven't been Mrs. Cohen in a very long time and I don't intend to start again now.”

     “Ok, Ms. Shannon, are you aware of the fact that Ira Cohen is dead?”

     Her eyes flew open wide again, “No, I had no idea.”

     “Don't you watch the news?”

     “No, I don't. And why would Ira's death make the news. He was a narrow-minded, mean, son-of-a…” She faded out as she seemed to remember where she was. The only other customer in the store was an elderly Asian gentleman who was fondling the tomatoes. He wasn't paying any attention to us.

     “Ira was murdered.”

     Once again, she looked surprised at first but then a funny little smile played at the corner of her mouth. “Can't say it surprises me all that much, really,” she said, “After all, I never understood why someone hadn't killed him long before now.”

     “The police have arrested Caleb for the murder,” Novak added, watching her face carefully.

     For a second I thought she hadn't heard him,
then
she said, “Did he do it?”

     “That's what we're trying to find out, ma'am.”

     She looked around the store again. “Do you think we could talk about this later, after I get off?”

     
“At your apartment?
We know where it is.”

     “You do?” she asked with some alarm.

     “We're PI's, remember? We're paid to know things like that.”

     “Fine, I get off at six, come by around six-thirty. I'll talk to you then.”

     “How do I know you'll be there?”

     “I will be.”

     “Make sure you are or we just may have to call the police.”

     It was obvious from her expression that was not what she wanted. Novak produced a card and handed it to her.

     “That has my cell phone number on it; if something comes
up,
make sure you call us on it.”

     He turned and left and I trailed out after him.

     “Do you really trust her?” I asked him as soon as we were outside.

     “Not a bit,” he said without hesitation. “That's why we're going to pull a stakeout.”

     
“My first stakeout!”
I said excitedly.

     “Yeah, be enthusiastic now because you'll be bored senseless by the end of it.”

     “Where are we going to be? Are we getting the car?”

     “No, we don't need the car, in the city that would be more obvious that not. Let's see what we have around here.”

     We ended up parked at a small restaurant across the street that had a shaded outdoor deck with a great view of the store. Novak settled in with several newspapers and told me to keep an eye on the store.

     Several hours later, after Novak had drank about a pot of coffee and I'd had more soda than anyone should ever drink in one afternoon, not to mention more than one dirty look from the waiter, Rachel finally emerged from the store. I glanced at my watch. She was early, thank God. It was only
.

     “She's on the move,” I told Novak. He lowered the paper he was reading, the fifth since we'd sat down and I'm pretty sure he's been asleep some of that time, and looked at me.

     
“On the move, huh?
You really watch too many movies.”

     He dropped the paper on the table along with enough cash to cover our beverage bills and a generous top and we slipped out a safe distance behind Rachel. She was moving quickly and darting glances all around her. She didn't seem to notice though. She ran directly back to her apartment building, let
herself
in and shut the door behind her.

     “I think she was trying to get the jump on us,” Novak mused thoughtfully.

     “But you threatened her with the police.”

     “If she was gone with a two hour head start there isn't much they could do.
Especially seeing as how she hasn't really done anything wrong so they wouldn't really be interested in her anyway.
I was just hoping to scare her into cooperating.”

     “It doesn't look like it worked.”

     “Thank you for that astute observation.”

     He walked over the call buttons and pushed the one next to Rachel's.

     “Hello,”
came
the thin voice of the old woman we had talked to earlier.

     “Hello, ma'am,” Novak answered. “We talked earlier; I'm the friend of Rachel Shannon's? We missed her at work because we decided to run out and get her a gift and it seems she got off early. We'd really like to surprise her so do you think you could buzz us in?”

     “I don't know…”

     “It would really mean a lot.”

     Her sigh was audible even over the intercom, but the door buzzed and there was a loud click as the lock disengaged.

     “Thank you,” he called out as he caught the door and we slipped in. We took the stairs up to Rachel's floor since the elevator didn't exactly inspire confidence. We found Rachel's door and Novak knocked loudly.

     After a few seconds, Rachel's voice came from the other side of the door. “Who's there?”

     “It's Shane Novak, Ms. Shannon. We spoke earlier.  I think you'd better open the door.”

     There was a long pause and then the sound of a safety chain being slid open and a deadbolt being turned. The door opened to reveal a very frightened looking Rachel Shannon, nee Cohen.

     “May we come in?” Novak asked.

     She gave a helpless shrug and stepped back to allow us in. The apartment was small and spartanly furnished. I suspected the furniture came with the rooms and there was almost no personal effects to make it look lived in. In fact, it looked like a model apartment, one that might be shown to prospective renters. Then I noticed a cardboard box sitting on the floor in front of the sofa with several items tossed haphazardly into it. Ms. Shannon had been packing.

     I looked over at Novak and saw that he had also noticed the box.

     “Were you leaving before we had our talk, Rachel?” he said softly.

     She shrugged again.

     “You've kept things light so it would be easy to move on at a moments notice. How many times did you move before you became complacent and settled in here?”

     “Look, I don't know why you are looking for me. I haven't seen Ira or Caleb since Caleb was just a toddler. They are a part of my past, I did what I had to do and it's behind me.”

     “Is it?” I said, startling both Novak and Rachel with the edge in my voice. I hadn't spoken once in her presence but suddenly I found myself furious. “I wouldn't have thought it would be that easy to forget your own child like that, the child you abandoned to a life of abuse and misery.”

     Rachel looked as if she had been slapped and Novak looked like he wanted to slap me. Rachel responded first.

     “It wasn't like that. You weren't there; you couldn't know what it was like. He beat me every day. I knew he would kill me if I didn't leave. He'd never laid a hand on Caleb. I didn't think I could support him and me, I thought it would be better for him if I left him behind. I didn't know Ira would hurt him too.”

     
“Easier for him or easier for you?”

     “Enough,” Novak interrupted sharply. “This isn't why we are here.”

     “Why are you here?” Rachel asked suddenly on the offensive.

     “The better question is: why were you running? What do you have to hide?”

     “I wasn't running.”

     
“Then why the sudden packing?”

     “I-you don't know what it's like to live in constant fear of your life. To never know if he's going to find you and...
and…
kill you.”

     “We told you he's dead, you shouldn't have to worry about that anymore.”

     “How do I know you are telling the truth? Maybe he hired you to find me.”

     While they were talking I had walked over to the box and glanced into it. Lying near the top, partly hidden by an old photo of a little boy I assumed to be Caleb, was
an
newspaper clipping. The headline read: “Local Boy Accused of Killing Father.”

     I bent over and picked it up.

     “Or maybe you'd like to try again,” I said as I held up the article.

Chapter 21

     For a moment, I didn't think Rachel would react. She seemed frozen in place, her eyes fastened on the piece of newsprint in my hand. Then all at once it was like she swung into action. She spun around and shoved Novak roughly in the chest with both hands. He stumbled backwards in surprise as she made a dash for the door.

     Luckily, I realized what she was doing and with a maneuver I was pretty proud of, I leaped over the couch and threw myself in her path. We collided at full speed and went down in a tangle of arms and legs. My breath was knocked out of me and I lay helplessly gasping as she scrambled to her feet and started for the door again.

     Novak had recovered himself by this time and simply stepped in front of the door, effectively barring her way since he was so much larger than she was.

     “Now is that any way to treat your guests?” Novak said lightly. “Why don't we all have a seat and talk about that article you found interesting enough to cut out and why you chose to lie to us about it.”

     “It's none of your damn business,” she snarled, “Let me go. You can't hold me here against my will.”

     “No, but I can make a citizen's arrest. If you're going to be that recalcitrant it may be our only option. Killian, why don't you call 911 and see if we can't get a police officer by here?”

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