The Truth of Yesterday (36 page)

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Authors: Josh Aterovis

BOOK: The Truth of Yesterday
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     “Ok, got it. So you were in his apartment. You opened the door to the room where he was murdered and something happened. What happened?”

 

     “I…I don't even know how to describe except…I think I experienced his murder.”

 

     Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

 

     “I mean…I felt like I was being strangled. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't scream, it felt like someone was choking me.”

 

     She stared at me in silence, her eyes wide, until the kettle began to whistle causing us both to jump. She pulled the kettle off the burner, turned off the stove and poured the hot water into a mug she'd set out on the counter. I handed her the box of tea bags. She nodded her thanks, dropped one into the mug, and sat down at the table across from me.

 

     “And that's not all,” I said.

 

     “There's more?”

 

     I nodded. “The person I was with, his neighbor and friend wanted to leave, but I felt really drawn into the bedroom. She wouldn't go in with me so I went in by myself. The room had been cleaned by the police, but I saw some sort of double image of what it had looked like right after the murder. Or maybe that was just my imagination, but I don't really think so. And then…I don't know why I did it, but I asked…I asked Paul to show me what he wanted me to find.”

 

     Judy calmly pulled the tea bag out of the cup and squeezed it out. She added a spoonful of sugar and took a sip. “And did he?”

 

     
“Sort of.
There was a noise from the closet. Or maybe it was just a coincidence.”

 

     “But you don't think so.”

 

     “No, as much as I'd like to, I don't. And then…”

 

     “There's more?”

 

     “And then the closet door was locked so I asked him to help me find the key. There was a noise from behind me in the armoire. That's where the key was.”

 

     “What was in the closet?”

 

     
“A safe.”

 

     “What was in the safe?”

 

     “I don't know,” I said in exasperation. “That's not the point.”

 

     “I know, I know. I was just caught up in the story. The point is you're exhibiting new aspects of you Gift and it's scaring you.”

 

     “You're damn right it's scaring me. I felt like I was being strangled.”

 

     “But no physical harm came to you, right?”

 

     “Not unless you want to count being scared half to death.”

 

     “I don't. This is very interesting.”

 

     “Interesting? Is that all you can say? It's not interesting; it's terrifying. I don't want this Gift. It's not even a gift! A gift is a nice sweater or a good book. This is a curse.”

 

     “Gift or curse, you have it. Now what are you going to do about it?”

 

     I took a deep breath and tried to calm down, although God knows Judy was calm enough for the both of us. “That's what I called you about.
Chris
made me realize today that I really do need to get training for this…whatever. Or at the very least I need to understand it better.”

 

     “It's about time you came to that conclusion. Good for
Chris
. Who is he?”

 

     
“She, not he.
Novak lined her up to help me out in DC since I don't know the city. She said that I look at this as just another tool to use in my line of work and to do that I need to understand it better.”

 

     “I like this
Chris
.
Although, you probably shouldn't think of this as a tool really.
It's not exactly something you actually control. There's no on and off switch. But she is right in that if you understand it you'll be able to make better use of what it tells you.”

 

     “So will you help me?”

 

     “I can't.”

 

     “What?” I asked, thinking that I must have misunderstood her.

 

     “I can't.”

 

     Well, I hadn't misunderstood her.
“Why not?”
I asked, completely flabbergasted.

 

     “This isn't my gift. I struggle to even sense
Amalie
, for you it's natural. My strongest Gifts lie in the future and sometimes in the present. Your Gifts are obviously tied to the past, that's why it's so easy for you to sense the dead.”

 

     
“Lucky me.”

 

     She shrugged.

 

     “So you can't help me at all?”

 

     “I didn't say that,” she said.

 

     “Then you can?”

 

     “Not me exactly, but I might know someone who can.”

 

     
“Who?”
I bit off, struggling to keep my patience.

 

     “Well, now, don't get your hopes up. He's not here right now.”

 

     
“Who?”

 

     “It all depends on if I can talk him to coming here, and that won't be easy.”

 

     “Who is it?”

 

     “And the soonest he could really come would probably be this summer. Unless I can convince him it's an emergency, which I suppose it could be.”

 

     “Judy, if you don't tell me who you're talking about right now there will be an emergency.”

 

     She laughed and pushed her cup of tea towards me. “I think you need this more than me.
If you have chamomile that would be even better.”

 

     “Judy,” I said warningly.

 

     

Dashel
.”

 

     I blinked.
“Dash?”

 

     “Yes.”

 

     
“But…what…how?”

 

     “His Gifts are closer to yours, I think.”

 

     
“His Gifts?
I didn't even know Dash had Gifts.”

 

     “Of course he does. He's my son isn't he?”

 

     “Does Jake?”

 

     Her smile faltered for a second. “I don't know,” she admitted. “If he does, he's never mentioned it. But,” she added briskly. “
Dashel
definitely does.”

 

     “But he's only a year older than me. How can he teach me?”

 

     “He might be only a year older, but you're just recognizing your Gifts. He's been fully aware of his for years now. Plus, he's been studying with a Maori shaman since he's been in
Australia
.”

 

     I shook my head, trying to make everything fall into place. Could my life get any more bizarre? Don't answer that. “You said their closer to mine? Does that mean they're not exactly the same?”

 

     
“No, not exactly.
His are more closely related to the spirit world. I'll ask him when I talk to him next if he thinks he'll be able to help you.”

 

     “Isn't what I'm dealing with the spirit world?”

 

     
“Not exactly, at least not in the sense that I meant.
The spirits
Dashel
senses and communicated with are not now, nor have they ever been human. They are not deceased people. There's a whole spirit world out there that most people never know exist.”

 

     This was all a little much for me. “You mean like angels and stuff?” I asked feeling slightly shell-shocked.

 

     
“Among other things.”

 

     “I don't even want to know,” I said emphatically.

 

     She smiled and reached over to pat my hand. “It's really not all that bad, sweetie. You'll get used to it all eventually.”

 

     “I don't want to get used to it.”

 

     She shrugged. “What choice do you have?”

 

     I sighed. “I don't guess I have any choice, do I? I tried to ignore it, it wouldn't go away.”

 

     She stood up and came around the table to give me a hug. “It'll be ok, Killian,” she whispered as she gave me a tight hug. “I promise.”

 

     She straightened up and ruffled my hair playfully. “I only have one question.”

 

     “What's that?” I asked glumly.

 

     “While you were chatting with Paul, why didn't you just ask who had killed him?”

 

     My mouth flew open and for a second nothing would come out while several thoughts ran through my mind in rapid fire. Then everything tried to tumble out at one time. “We didn't…I didn't…he…could I have done that?”

 

     Judy threw her head back and laughed heartily at my expense. When she'd pulled herself together, she patted my cheek. “I was just kidding, kiddo,” she said wiping a tear from her eye. “Even if you had thought to ask him he probably couldn't have told you. It's never that easy.”

 

     
“Why not?”

 

     She shrugged again. “Who knows? It just doesn't work like that. Now, I'd better go. Will you be ok?” I nodded and she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I started to rise to go with her to the door but she waved me back down. “I can let myself out. Stay put; drink that tea. Don't let it go to waste.”

 

     I nodded, only half-listening. My mind was already picking at her statement about how it didn't work like that. I thought about how Seth said he had rules about what he could and couldn't say and do. Was it the same with all ghosts? I'd gotten the impression that Seth was some sort of special category in the echelon of the dearly departed, but what did I know?

 

     I absently picked up the mug of tea and took a sip.

 

     “It's about time you came to your senses,” someone said and I almost spit my mouthful of tea across the table.

 

     “I hate it when you do that,” I complained.

 

     “I know,” Seth said smugly as he leaned his chair back on two legs and propped his feet on the table. I started to protest, but then it occurred to me that it was just a little silly to care whether or not an insubstantial being had his feet on the table. “Just for the record,” he continued, “you were never in any real danger today, at least not from ghosts. Snooping around a sealed crime scene is a danger of another type entirely.”

 

     I sat up excitedly. “Was what I felt Paul?”

 

     “I don't know, I wasn't there,” he said.

 

     “Then how do you know I wasn't in any danger?”

 

     “I was listening to what you told Judy…”

 

     “You were eavesdropping!”

 

     “No, I just hadn't made myself known yet.”

 

     “You were eavesdropping.”

 

     “The point is, from what you told Judy; if whoever or whatever was guiding you had wanted to hurt you they had plenty of opportunity.”

 

      “What do you mean whoever or
whatever
?” I asked uneasily.

 

     
“Just what I said.
You heard Judy; there are other things in the spirit world besides what you call ghosts.”

 

     “Are any of them unfriendly?”

 

     “You bet your sweet bootie.”

 

     “Great.”

 

     “Don't worry. If I had to make a guess as to what was guiding you in the apartment I would say it was Paul, or at least some essence of Paul.”

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