The Truth of Yesterday (23 page)

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Authors: Josh Aterovis

BOOK: The Truth of Yesterday
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     “I do. I know names, friends, people at the agency, places he hung out. I even have a key to his apartment assuming he didn't change the locks after I left.”

 

     I was running out of arguments. Despite myself, I was beginning to become interested. Up until the Knox case, everything I'd done had been local. If I was any good as an investigator, I should be able to solve a case anywhere. This would be a good test of my skills. And then there was the part about Micah being able to have closure with this. If I wanted to try and make things work with Micah, which I had to admit that I did, then this might be necessary. I still wasn't sure if we could work things out, but I was pretty sure we wouldn't have a chance if he obsessed with the fate of his ex-boyfriend.

 

     I sighed. “Tell me what you know,” I said, knowing full well that this meant I was hooked.

 

     Relief flooded Micah's eyes. “Thank you, Killian,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. He grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it closer to the desk.

 

     “Don't thank me yet,” I muttered.

 

     He took a deep breath. “Let's see. I don't know that much, really. I know he was still working for the same agency we were working for when we met. It's a pretty well respected agency as far as they go, known to be reliable and discreet. The owner's name is Neal. I've talked to him on the phone but I never actually met him. He tends to keep a low profile.”

 

     As he spoke, I was jotting down notes into the little notebook I kept with me at all times. One of the first things Novak ever taught me was to never trust my memory.

 

     “As far as I know,” he continued, “he's not dated anyone seriously since I left. He was friends with that guy we saw at the club,
Razi
. He was pretty cozy with one of his

neighbors
, a really nice girl named Sabrina. He had a few other casual friends but not many. He was kind of shy when he wasn't working. He was a favorite with guys who like the sweet, quiet type.”

 

     “He was…
Razi
found him in his apartment.” Micah broke off and his eyes unfocused as he tried to continued. “When no one heard from him for a few days, he went by and… I guess he had a key too. He called the police and they came and took him away. I don't really know the details, just what
Razi
told me the other night. He'd been strangled. I do know that. And the apartment was a wreck, stuff broken and tossed around.”

 

     “Do the police have any theories?” I asked.

 

     He blinked and focused on me, almost as if he'd forgotten I was there. “Um, I don't think so, not really. I think they were thinking he'd walked in on a robbery at first, but I think they
kinda
dropped that when it looked like nothing was really missing.”

 

     “You know
,
if it turns out to be some botched random break-in I'll never be able to figure out who it was.”

 

     “I know.”

 

     I took a deep breath. “Tell me more about Paul.”

 

     “What do you mean?”

 

     “I mean, what was he like? Was he secretive? Who would he be most likely to confide in?”

 

     He thought a minute before answering. “He wasn't exactly secretive, but he kept a lot to himself.”

 

     “What's the difference?”

 

     “It wasn't like he was intentionally hiding stuff from me; he just wasn't one to open up. He didn't talk about himself much. He was a great listener. You'd just find yourself talking to him, telling him your whole life story, spilling your guts. He'd listen to everything you said and somehow make you feel better. It was only later that I realized he never did the talking, he never spilled his guts to me.”

 

     “So he wouldn't confide in anyone?”

 

     He shrugged.
“If so, I don't know who.
He sure never confided in me.”

 

     “I know I asked this before, but I want you to really think about this before you answer; what if I find something you don't like? What if he was involved in something illegal, besides just being an escort? What if he wasn't who you thought he was at all? Are you sure you want me to do this?”

 

     “Yes. I'm sure. No matter what you find, at least I'll know the truth.”

 

     I nodded. It was the answer I was looking for. “Then I'll talk to Novak about it.”

 

     “Novak?” he asked with a confused expression.

 

     “I work for him. I can't just take a job. I have to talk to him about it.”

 

     “Oh. Well, ok.
When?”

 

     
“When I get the chance, Micah.
He's with someone right now.”

 

     
“Oh yeah.
Will you call me as soon as you know?”

 

     “Yeah,” I promised wearily, suddenly wondering if I was doing the right thing even thinking about this.

 

     “Thank you, Killian,” he said. He stood up and pushed the chair back to its place before turning back to me. “You don't know how much this means to me.” He turned and left.

 

     It looked like I was committed now, whether I liked it or not. And the more I thought about it, the less I liked it. Could I really be objective about this? I didn't really know anyone involved except Micah, and his involvement was peripheral at best, or so I hoped. Then again, this was Micah's ex, who he'd once lived with, made love to, been in love with. Even assuming I could be objective, my argument that I didn't know the city was still valid. Someone familiar with city life would have an edge on a country boy like me. Someone who knew something about the escort agency would be even better.

 

     A little voice inside my head argued that I'd have Micah for those things. He lived in the city for years so he knew it as well as anyone, and he definitely knew the escort agency.

 

     No, it wouldn't be that easy. Micah would be crushed if I decided not to take this case. It would probably be the end of any chance we had at anything. I was beginning to feel like a fox cornered by the hounds.

 

     Then the thought occurred to me that Novak might not approve of the idea of me haring off to DC on my own to chase a murderer. In fact, he might even forbid me to go. Maybe there was a way out of this yet.

 

* * *

     Novak was in the office with the mysterious woman for what seemed to me to be an unusually long time. When the door opened at last and they appeared, I thought that she looked just as uneasy as she had when they'd gone in. Whatever had taken so long didn't seem to have helped with her nerves.

 

     They moved across the room without speaking and Novak held the door open for her.

 

     “Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

 

     “You're welcome, and try not to worry,” Novak answered.

 

     She cast him a look that clearly spoke her feelings about the chances of not worrying, and then she turned and hurried off, seeming to draw in on herself as she went.

 

     Novak closed the door and turned to me. “Busy morning,” he commented lightly.

 

     “That's an understatement,” I said. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

 

     “Sure, we can talk in here.”

 

     I followed him into his office and took one of the leather chairs. He closed a case file that was open on his desk and slid it into one of the desk drawers. That struck me as a little odd, since I usually typed the files for him from his handwritten notes.

 

     “Is that lady that just left a new client?” I asked. I knew from experience that there was no point asking about the file straight out.

 

     “Yes, I'll be handling her case.”

 

     “I don't have any cases right now,” I said, at least none that he knew of.

 

     “This is a rather delicate situation.”

 

     “What do you mean?”

 

     “I'm afraid I promised her complete confidentiality.”

 

     
“Even from me?”
I was a little offended.

 

     “Yes, even from you.” He stopped and grinned. “And don't go acting like you're the injured party here.” He paused dramatically. “How's your investigation of Jake going?”

 

     My mouth fell open. “How'd you know about that?” I blurted out.

 

     Novak laughed. “You think I don't know what's going on under my own nose? What kind of investigator would I be if I didn't know what my own employees were up to?”

 

     “You followed me?”

 

     
“No, nothing that dramatic.
I knew something was bothering Judy and I knew you were up to something besides your assigned case. I put two and two together and then I asked Judy point blank. She told me everything.”

 

     “You aren't mad?”

 

     “Why would I be mad?”

 

     “That I took the case without talking to you? Or that I took the case at all?”

 

     “I wish you had talked to me first, but I know how persuasive Judy can be. And if you're worrying that I'm bothered that she asked you and not me, don't be. I understand her reasoning and agree one-hundred percent.”

 

     “You do?” I asked with no small relief.

 

     
“Yes, absolutely.
Things are dicey enough between us as it is. If Jake found out that I was following him, things would just go all to hell.”

 

     “Not that it'll be much better if he finds out I'm following him,” I pointed out.

 

     “Still, better you than me. So what did you want to talk about?”

 

     “Well, there're a couple things actually. Since you know about Jake it'll make the first one that much easier.” I told him about my search of Jake's room and my discoveries. When I was finished, he thought for a minute.

 

     “Well,” he said after a minute, “what you found could have several different explanations, but I don't like any of them. You still haven't told me what you wanted to talk about, though.”

 

     That was Novak, always going right to the point. “The two things that bother me the most are the photo and the AIDS Ball ticket. They don't fit in to the theories that I have. I can't do much about the picture, but I could do something about the Ball.”

 

     “And what would that be?”

 

     “I could attend.”

 

     Novak cocked an eyebrow. “And just how do you propose to get a ticket at this point?”

 

     “That's what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said with an impish grin.

 

     He pushed back in his chair and for a minute, I thought he was going to tell me that there was no way, but then his expression grew thoughtful. “I might be able to do something,” he said slowly. “Let me look into it and I'll let you know.”

 

     “Great!”

 

     “Don't get your hopes up. This thing is not easy to get into.”

 

     “I know.”

 

     “No, you have no idea. Anyway, what were the other things you wanted to talk about? You said you had several things?”

 

     “Well, actually, there's just one more thing,” I said carefully.

 

     Something in my tone must have set off Novak's internal alarms. “And what exactly would that one thing be?” he asked, with equal carefulness.

 

     “It has to do with Micah.”

 

     “Will you stop beating around the bush and get to the point, kid?”

 

     “Well, Micah's…um, old roommate…” I began.

 

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