The Truth of Yesterday (45 page)

     “I'd better go call Micah,” I said and ran up the stairs to my room. I dialed Micah's cell phone first, but only got his message service. I tried dialing his desk phone, but that was busy. I called his cell phone back and left a message. While I waited for him to call me back, I signed online to check my email.

     The first one was from Noah. He was inviting me to attend the gay/straight Halloween dance that Haven was sponsoring that Thursday night. He said there would be awards for the best costume and I was welcome to bring friends. I'd heard everyone talking about the dance at the last meeting I'd attended, but hadn't really considered going. Now it seemed like it might be a good idea to invite Micah. That would be one place no one would really care about his article. It might give him a chance to relax and get away from all the attention that Adam seemed to think this would bring him.

     At the bottom of my inbox, buried beneath a mountain of spam mail, was a response from Neal. I opened it up and read over his brief note.

     “I would be willing to speak with you regarding the unfortunate death of Paul Flynn,” he wrote. “The nature of my business being what it is, I'm afraid that I will need some sort of verification that you are who you say you are. If I am satisfied of that, we can meet and I will answer your questions. Please call me at my office and we'll see if we can work things out.”

     
Cautious, but accommodating
, I thought. Almost as if he was afraid that I might know something. Or maybe he just wants to find out what I know. At the same time, he can't be sure I'm not a cop on the vice squad.

     I was reaching for the phone to call him when it rang under my hand. It was Micah returning my call.

     “Hey, I saw the paper,” I said after we'd exchanged greetings. “Adam seems to think you'll be catching hell.”

     “Adam would be correct,” he said without inflection.

     “Is it bad?”

     “Not yet, but it looks like it could be. We've already had several very angry phone calls from local bigwigs, all of them outraged that the paper would print something like this and most of them wishing me bodily harm. From some of the people who've called threatening lawsuits, I'm guessing this is going to be a lot bigger than even I expected. These guys are in so many pockets, and then they in turn have guys in their pocket...well, let's just say it looks like this is going to reach far outside the county.”

     “Let me guess,” I
said,
my voice heavy with irony, “The consensus is you should have let sleeping dogs lie.”

     “Yes! I can't believe this. They'd rather let these guys get away with everything.”

     I let out a short bark of humorless laughter. “This is the
Eastern Shore
, Micah. That's how it works. The good old boys protect each other and everybody has their hand in somebody else's pocket.
Lesson number one in backwoods politics.”

     “That's just it. Maybe the Shore used to be backwoods, but times are changing. We can't let people continue to get away with stuff like this.”

     “They might be changing but change comes slowly around these parts. These guys play hardball, Micah. You said that some people were wishing you bodily harm; have there been any threats against you? Do you think you're in any danger?”

     “I don't know. There haven't been any direct threats; these guys are too smart for that. But they have been making threatening noises, if you know what I mean. I hadn't taken them too seriously before now, though.”

     “I think you should. You need to be careful. Maybe you should lay low for a little while; keep a low profile.”

     “No way, I need to be out there doing follow-up articles, interviews...”

     “I need you alive!” I interrupted him. “Please, can't you let someone else take it from here? You broke the big story.”

     “This is huge, Killian. I can't just hand it over to someone else now. This is my job. It's what I do and I love it. I would never ask you to give up an investigation just because it turned dangerous.”

     “You're right,” I admitted. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that.”

     “It's ok. I understand. Trust me, I understand. You're scared. Sometimes I'm scared for you too. But I need to do this.”

     “Just...promise me you'll be careful.”

     
“That I can promise.
It's not like I want to get hurt. Tell you what, I'll keep as low a profile as I possibly can and still get the job done. Ok?”

     “Ok.”

     “You do realize that you probably won't be seeing much of me for the next few days, don't you?”

     “Well, it's not like I don't have things to do,” I started. “Oh, wait. What about Thursday night? Do you think you'd be free to go with me to a Halloween dance at Pemberton?”

     “Halloween dance?” he asked doubtfully.

     “It's sponsored by Haven.”

     
“Oh, um, yeah.
I guess we could do that.”

     “Come on, you'll need to get away and have some fun by then. Remember what you said to me about working too hard?”

     He laughed. “Oh sure, throw my own words back in my face. We are going to a Ball the very next night, you know, but ok, let's plan on going. Do I have to wear a costume?”

     “Yes,” I said firmly.

     “Ok, ok.” I heard some voices in the background. “Hang on a sec, Kill.” I could hear him talking to someone but he must have put his hand over the phone because I couldn't understand what was being said. A few seconds later, he came back on the line. “Hey, something's come up; I have to go. I'll talk to you later, `k? Love you. Bye”

     Before I could answer, he'd hung up.  

     I stared at the phone for a minute, hoping that I'd get through the next few days without Micah.
Just when I was really getting used to waking up to him
, I thought wistfully. I must have gotten lost in thought because the next thing I knew, the operator came on and told me to hang up if I wished to make another call, jarring me out of my daydream.

     I hung up and then picked it right back up again to dial Neal. I might as well get to work.

     He answered on the second ring. “Hello, Top to Bottom Escorts.
Neal speaking.
How can I be of service?”

     “Neal, this is Killian Kendall,” I told him. “I sent you an email yesterday regarding Paul Flynn and you sent me a response asking me to call you.”

     “Yes, I did. I'm sure you understand that before I can meet with you I need to be sure you are who you say you are.”

     
“And not a cop?”

     He laughed. His voice was smooth and cultured; he sounded well-educated. “You cut right to the point, don't you, Mr. Kendall?”

     “Please, call me Killian. And yes, I do like to come to the point. I'm sure you're a busy man and I don't want to take up any more of your time than I have to.”

     “I appreciate that. You said in your email that you are a private investigator hired to look into Paul's murder?”

     
“Yes, sir.”

     “May I ask who hired you or is that confidential?”

     I thought for moment, but didn't see any harm in telling him who had hired me. “Actually, I believe you know my client,” I said. “His name is Micah Gerber. He used to work for your agency.”

     “Micah?” he asked, his surprise came through clearly in his voice. “I thought he and Paul went their separate ways ages ago.”

     “They did, but Mr. Gerber would still like to know what happened to his old friend.” I was trying to sound as professional as possible; I'd decided not to let on that Micah and I were dating.

     “Of course, I can understand that, although I'm not sure how you think I can help.”

     “I'm talking to everyone who had anything to do with Paul, even marginally.”

     “You realize we never met face to face. All our business was done either on the phone, online, or by mail.”

     “Mr. Gerber explained to me how the business works,” I said.

     “Good, then I don't need to go into all those details. Is there any way that I can verify that you are a private investigator? Can I check your license with the state?”

     I didn't need him to know that I wasn't licensed yet either. “Would calling my office in the morning and speaking to my associate Shane Novak be sufficient?”

     “Could I call him today? If I can verify all this, I'd like to meet with you tomorrow. I'm leaving town on Tuesday for an extended vacation. I'll be gone for the better part of November.”

     “
Florida
?” I asked.

     
“
Cancun
.
So, can I call this...what was his name?”

     “Novak, Shane Novak. Why don't I see if I can get in touch with him and have
him
give you a call?”

      “How do I know you aren't just getting someone to call me and pretend to be your associate?”

     Good point. “Then how about if I have Mr. Gerber
call
you? Would that be verification enough?”

     “That would be alright, I suppose. I haven't spoken to Micah since he left the agency. He said he was taking a job at a newspaper in the middle of nowhere on the Shore, but I always suspected he was just going out on his own. Is he still in the business?”

     I bristled a little at the question, and then realized how silly I was being. “Actually, he's the star reporter on the paper that covers the entire Shore,” I said casually. So I embellished a little, I was sure it wouldn't be long before he was the star reporter.

     
“Really?
Well, good for him. Yes, please have Micah call me. I'll work things out with him. If all goes well, which I'm sure it will, meet me at
noon
tomorrow at Union Station at the Center Cafe. Just ask for Neal and they'll bring you to my table.”

     “That sounds fine. I appreciate your help.”

     “Don't think it's entirely altruistic, Killian,” he said with a dry chuckle. “I think it's in my best interest to meet with you as well. After all, I can't have you making assumptions, or worst yet, going to the police with half-formed ideas. I'll be looking forward to hearing from Micah.”

     “I'll have him call you as soon as I can,” I promised.

     We hung up and I called Micah right away. I held my breath while it rang.
Please be there, please
pick
up,
I begged.

     “Hello?” he answered sounding a little peeved at the interruption.

     “Micah,” I said. “I'm sorry to interrupt you but I need you to do something for me.”

     “Is it important?” he said distractedly.

     “It's about Paul.”

     “Paul?” he asked with a little more attention.

     “Yeah, I need you to call Neal and verify that I'm a private investigator hired by you to investigate Paul's murder.”

     “Paranoia is the name of the game when you are doing something illegal,” he laughed. “God, I'm glad I don't have to worry about that anymore. Yeah, I'll call him. You'll have to give me his number. When does he want me to call?”

     
“If you can, call him now, or at least as soon as possible.”