The Truth of Yesterday (30 page)

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Authors: Josh Aterovis

BOOK: The Truth of Yesterday
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     “Are you going back tonight?”

 

     “That was the plan.”

 

     “Well, if you need a place to stay, you can stay at our place.”

 

     “Thanks,” I said with a pleased smile. I was definitely beginning to genuinely like
Chris
. She was turning out to be a good partner.

 

     The trip to the

Dupont
Circle
stop took about twenty minutes; and from the station, it took us another twenty minutes to find Paul's address. Just as
Chris
had said, it was in a very nice neighborhood. Stone and brick faced townhouses lined the street, each with its own tiny patch of lawn, most filled with flowers. Paul's building was actually a brick apartment building tucked between two sections of townhouses. You had to be buzzed in but we just stood nearby and waited for someone to go in or come out. We didn't have to wait long before a woman with two small dogs came out. We slipped in behind her before the door could close and she never even noticed. Paul's apartment was on the third floor. We took the stairs but stopped at the second floor landing to decide how to set up the watch.

 

     “We need to decide how I'm going to warn you if someone heads for the door,”
Chris
said. Last time I didn't know what to do when
Razi
went in. I was ready to come in if you yelled or something but it was hard not knowing what was going on.”

 

     “I don't know what else we can do without you being very conspicuous. As it was,
Razi
noticed you. If he hadn't gotten distracted by me being there I don't know what he would have done. We don't want someone calling the police.”

 

     “Well, if they do I'm pretty sure I can get out of it because of my dad, but still, it would be a pain we don't need.”

 

     “Right, so I think we'd better just stick with the plan where you come to the rescue, should I need it.”

     “Ok, but I don't like it,” she agreed reluctantly. “And I'm only going along with this because I don't have a better plan. We have to work out something better before we do something like this again.”

 

     I gave her a smile and took the rest of the stairs to the third floor. It was easy to identify Paul's door. It was the only one with police tape across it. I took notice of the other doors opening off the short hallway; there were only four apartments on this floor. The other doors were closed and blank looking. There was no way to know if anyone was behind them or not. I took a deep breath and fished out the key Micah had given me. If it didn't fit, I wouldn't have to worry about any of this. I approached the door and slid the key carefully into the lock. It went in easily. I turned it and my stomach flipped as the lock clicked and released. I pushed the door open slowly until it was wide enough for me to slip inside. I ducked under the tape and quickly shut the door.

 

     It smelled musty inside and it was so dark I couldn't see anything; heavy shades blocked out most of the sunlight at the windows. Only a thin crack of light along the ceiling even showed me where they were. Well, that could work to my advantage. No one could see in either, so I could turn a light on and actually see what I was doing.

 

      I fumbled along the wall for a light switch, but before I could find one, I heard the door handle rattle behind me. I froze in place, praying it was just
Chris
. The door swung open suddenly and the comparatively bright light from the hallway temporarily blinded me. A dark figure stood in the doorway. “Don't move, I have a gun,” a harsh voice ordered. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?”

Chapter 13

 

     
This was definitely not good
, I thought as I froze where I was and slowly raised my hands above my head. Getting caught was not part of my plan. Assuming I survived this,
Chris
and I were definitely going to have to work out a better way for her to warn me. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I began to get a better look at my assailant. To my great surprise, it turned out to be a woman.
A very small, slender woman to be exact, with distinctly Asian features and long, glossy black hair.
And in her dainty little hands was a deadly looking pistol, aimed directly at my chest.

 

     “Who are you?” she repeated in a surprisingly deep and husky voice. She didn't sound at all like she looked. “And don't think for a minute that I don't know how to use this thing,” she added.

 

     “My name is Killian Kendall,” I said as calmly as I could manage while having a gun pointed at me. “Are you a police officer?”

 

     “I'll ask the questions, thank you. What are you doing in Paul's apartment?”

 

     
She said Paul's apartment
, I noted,
so she is most likely not a cop. Didn't Micah say something about a neighbor of Paul's that he was very close to? What was her name?
Not for the first time I wished I was better with names. I tried to decide if I should lie and say I was a friend of Paul's, or tell the truth. I decided that, in this case at least, the truth was the best policy.

 

     “I'm a private investigator,” I told her. “I'm investigating the murder of Paul Flynn.”

 

     “You look a little young to be a private investigator.”

 

     “I can't help that.”

 

     “Who hired you?”

 

     
“Micah Gerber.
He asked me to look into Paul's murder since the police don't seem to be taking a great interest in it.”

 

     “Micah?” she asked warily, the gun wavering ever so slightly.

 

     “Yes.”

 

     “How do I know you're telling the truth?”

 

     Good question. Just then, the name I was searching for surfaced. “Are you Sabrina?” I asked. Her eyes widened. I took that as a yes and went on, “Micah said you were a good friend of Paul's. Maybe you can help me find out who killed him.”

 

     The gun dropped a little farther, but I kept my hands in the air. I wasn't about to risk my life with any sudden moves.

 

     “How'd you get in here?” she asked.

 

     “Micah gave me a key.”

 

     That seemed to be what she wanted to hear. The gun dropped to her side and she stepped back from the door.

 

     “Will you help me?” I asked, lowering my hands very slowly, but keeping them in her view.

 

     “I'll talk to you, but I think we should go to my apartment. If someone comes along, I don't want to be standing here with Paul's door wide open. It would not look good.”

 

     There was no arguing with her logic, so I moved slowly forward, still not willing to risk spooking her as long as she held that gun. I ducked under the police tape, locked the door, and pulled it closed behind me. The door next to Paul's was standing open and Sabrina stepped to one side of it and motioned with the gun as if to say `after you'. She wasn't going to give me the chance to get behind her, a smart move on her part had I been someone dangerous. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw
Chris
peek around the corner and I motioned surreptitiously for her to remain hidden. I stepped into her apartment and took a quick look around. As you entered the apartment you found yourself in a large open space that served as a living room/dining room. The kitchen opened off of it straight ahead, and to the right of the kitchen was a closed door that I assumed led to a bedroom. It wasn't large, but Sabrina had tastefully decorated her living space with a blend of antique furnishings and Asian art.

 

     “Have a seat,” she said casually, as if she entertained guests at gunpoint all the time. Then again, for all I knew, she did.

 

     I sat gingerly on the edge of her scroll-backed Victorian sofa and looked at her expectantly. She sat across from me on an uncomfortable looking carved wooden chair. Seeing her clearly for the first time, I realized how beautiful she was. Her features were delicate and refined, making her look remarkably like a finely-sculpted china doll. And then she spoke and ruined the effect.

 

     “Would you like a drink?” she asked in her strangely hoarse voice.

 

     “Er, uh, no thanks,” I managed. It wasn't a question I had expected.

 

     “So Micah asked you to find Paul's killer?” She fiddled with the gun in her lap, making me more than a little nervous.

 

     “Yes. Um, do you think you could set the gun down? It's making me a little uncomfortable. I promise I'm not going to hurt you, but if it makes you feel better you can set it on the table right next to you where you can grab it if you need to.”

 

     “Oh!” she exclaimed. She looked down at the gun in surprise, as if she'd forgotten she was holding it. “This?” She aimed the gun at my chest once again and pulled the trigger before I could react. I flinched but nothing happened. “It's not real,” she explained. “I bought it at a women's safety conference I went to a few years ago. It's just meant to scare people. I don't like real guns.”

 

     I stared at her in disbelief. “What would you have done if I'd attacked you?”

 

     She blinked as if the thought had never occurred to her. “Hit you with it?” she asked hesitantly.

 

     “Do you even know any self-defense?” I pressed.

 

     “Yes. What does any of this have to do with Paul?”

 

     “It doesn't have anything to do with Paul, but if you're going to run around pointing a toy gun at people you'd better be able to defend yourself.”

 

     “I don't run around pointing it at people,” she said defensively. “Can we get back to the subject at hand?”

 

     “Your right, I'm sorry,” I apologized. “It's really none of my business.”

 

     “It's ok,” she said with hesitant smile. “I sort of made it your business when I pointed it at you, I guess. So anyway, Micah hired you. Do you actually know him, or did he just hire you?”

 

     “I know him. We've been dating for a few months.”

 

     Her mouth formed a little “o” of surprise. “So...wait...you're dating Micah, and you're investigating the murder of his ex-lover?”

 

     I gave her a wry grin. “That about sums it up.”

 

     “Wow. Either you're a better man that I am, or you guys have a weird relationship.”

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