The Truth of Yesterday (22 page)

     
“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.

Chapter 10

     
“W-what?”
I stammered, thinking I must have heard him wrong. “What did you say?”

     “I said,” he spoke slowly, over-enunciating each word, “I want to hire you.”

     
“To do what?”

     He sent a meaningful look in the direction of the room's other occupant, who was staring at the purse in her lap as if it was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen.

     Before I could come up with a suggestion, Novak's office door swung open and the insurance company representative came out, followed closely by Novak.

     “We appreciate your work, Mr. Novak,” the insurance guy was saying. “As usual, you completed the assignment ahead of schedule and to your usual standards of excellence. We'll be in touch when we find ourselves in need of your services again.”

     “Let's hope for your sake that isn't too soon,” Novak said genially.

     The plain little man let himself out and Novak cast a curious look in the direction of the young woman waiting to see him.

     “This lady is waiting to see you privately,” I said. She cast me a grateful glance and Novak ushered her into his office.

     As soon as his door closed, I turned back to Micah. “Well?” I asked.

     “I want you to look into Paul's murder,” he said without hesitation.

     I sat for a second staring dumbly back at him. “You want me to investigate the murder of your ex-boyfriend?” I asked slowly, making sure I had this right.

      “Yes.”

     “You don't think that's asking a lot?”

     “I don't know, is it? If something happened to Asher, wouldn't you want to know the truth? I need to know what happened to Paul; I need to know so I can move on completely.”

     “I thought you already had.”

     He shrugged. “This is different. Now it feels like unfinished business.”

     “What about the police?”

     He grimaced. “Apparently they aren't trying real hard.”

     “What gives you that idea?” I frowned.

     “I know people back in the city, people in positions of authority. I called them to verify what
Razi
had told me. They tell me that the murder of a known escort isn't real high on their list of priorities. There's no family demanding justice, the public couldn't care less. There's enough crime in the city that something like this tends to just get pushed to the back burner at best.
Especially if it isn't an open and shut case.
They just don't have the manpower on the police force.”

     “So you want me to find out who killed him?”

     He nodded. “I'll hire you just like I was any client.”

     “I don't know if I'm the right person for this, Micah.”

     
“Why not?
You've done this before. More than once, even. Everyone says you're already one of the best.”

     “That was on my home turf, so to speak. They were all local. I know the area. I don't know anything about the city.”

     “You might not know the city, but I do. I'll help you.”

     “What if you don't like what I find?”

     “Then I'll deal with it. At least I'll know something.”

     I shook my head. “I wouldn't even know where to start.”