The Truth of Yesterday (49 page)

     
“Killian?
What's wrong?” Judy asked again. I had forgotten I was still holding the phone.

     “Oh, um, nothing's wrong,” I said quickly. There was no point getting Judy all upset until I knew for certain what was going on with Jake. “I just realized I'm late meeting Micah,” I fibbed.

     “Oh, then I'll let you go. Tell him I said he did a great job on that article. It's about time we shook up those fat cats.”

     “Yeah, thanks. Bye Judy.”

     I hung up and sat staring at the envelope and those three words.
Jake an escort?
Was he somehow connected to Paul's death? Could he be in danger? I didn't even want to consider it, but it was too late. I was in too far. I had to know the truth.

Chapter 21

     I was still brooding over Jake the next day. I had even more trouble than usual paying attention in class since I couldn't keep my brain off of the subject for more than a few minutes at a time. I was especially wondering what I was going to do after I talked to his old friends. I wasn't expecting a lot from them, but it was a loose end that needed to be tied up. Beyond that though, I had no idea where to go. There was the Ball Friday night, so maybe I would just wait for that and see what happened.

     When I arrived at work after my classes, I thought I saw Novak's mysterious client slip down the back stairs just as I came up the front ones.

     “Was that your client?” I asked him as I came into the office. He was bending over my desk looking at several photographs, which he promptly scooped up as soon as I appeared in the door.

     “Yes, it was,” he answered casually.

     “Why was she sneaking down the back way?”

     “She wasn't sneaking anywhere. I told you, she's in a delicate position and needs to be very discreet.”

     “So she was sneaking.”

     “She wasn't...ok, yes, she was sneaking.”

     “What are the pictures of?”

     “If that was any of your business I would have shown them to you. Don't you have a couple cases of your own to worry about?” He retreated to his office where he closed the door firmly behind him, just a little shy of slamming.

     I laughed. Teasing Novak was so much fun, although I was very curious about the birdlike woman.

     I turned on the computer while I sorted through today's mail. It looked like Novak had already gone through and taken his. Most of what was left went directly into the circular file. I set aside all but one large manila envelope. I deal with the rest later. The manila envelope was from Neal. He'd been true to his word. I noticed that the return address was a PO Box with no name. He was cautious as always. I opened the envelope and dumped out the enclosed documents. On top was Paul's file. Under that were the records of Paul's repeat customers. Assuming Neal had sent me all of them, there were only seven. Each one listed the dates that particular client had met with Paul and how they had paid, as well as personal information like their address if Paul had met them there and their phone number.

     I decided there was no time like the present to start calling. The first four weren't home. They were probably at work, so I'd have to call back later. The next guy hung up on me as soon as I told him why I was calling. I actually got someone to talk to me on the fourth try.

     “Are you Luis Rodriguez?” I asked after I got over my initial shock that someone answered their phone and remained on the line after I identified myself as a private investigator.

     “Yes, I am,” he said. “May I ask what this is concerning?”

     “I'm calling about Paul Flynn.”

     There was a pause.
“Paul who?”

     “Flynn. He was an escort. I believe you knew him.”

     
“Oh, Paul.
I thought I knew him very well, but he never mentioned his last name,” he chuckled. “It's just not something that comes up, you know? Now, other things came up…but not last names.”

     “When was the last time you met with Paul?”

     “It's probably been a month ago. You see, I met someone and I haven't really needed...”

     According to the records he had last been with Paul about a month ago, so he was telling the truth there. I wasn't really interested in the details of his personal life, though, so I cut him off. “Did you know that Paul died a few weeks ago?”

     “Paul...died? No, I...I didn't know. How? Was it an accident?”

     “Actually, he was murdered.
In his apartment.”

     
“
Wha
-what?
Murdered?
Oh my God.”

     “You didn't know?”

     “No, I didn't know,” he snapped. “If I knew I wouldn't have been making sick jokes and prattling on about my love life. How…how was he killed? Wait, was he the guy on the news a few weeks back? The one that they said was killed in an alleged robbery?”

     
“Probably.”

     “If he was killed in a robbery, why are you talking to me?”

     “I don't believe he was killed in a robbery. I need to ask you some questions. Would you be willing to help me out? You could help me bring Paul's killer to justice.”
Assuming it's not you
, I thought to myself.

     “Yes, of course.
Anything to help Paul.
I may not have known his last name but he was a very special person. He always made me feel so special. He just had a way of making you feel at ease. I can't believe he's gone.”

     I rolled my eyes and glanced down at his record while he bemoaned his deep loss. The man didn't even know his last name and he paid him for sex. How broken up could he be?

     “How long had you been seeing Paul?” I asked when he paused to take a breath. I had the information in front of me, but I wanted to see if his account would agree with the official records.

     “Off and on for the last six months,” he said after taking a second to shift gears. That jived.

     “How many times in that six months?”

     “I don't know for sure, maybe five?” The records said six, close enough.

     “How did he act?”

     “I'm not sure what you mean.”

     “Well, I want you to compare the way he acted early on and how he acted towards the end. Was he any different?”

     He thought a minute. “Not that I could tell. He always made sure that I was relaxed and satisfied. I guess you could say that he was every inch a professional. Um, no pun intended.”

     “He never seemed scared?”

     “Not that I could tell.”

     “Can you think of any reason someone might want to kill him?”

     “No.”

     “Can you think of anything you feel might be important for me to know?”

     “Look, I guess I really didn't know him that well. He didn't talk about himself much; he never revealed anything personal. All I can tell you is that he always made me feel good and special. That's not something I'd felt very often in my life before him. He made me feel good about myself, and let me tell you, it was a lot more fun than therapy.”

     “Ok, well thanks,” I mumbled. “If you think of anything else, please give me a call.” I gave him my cell phone number and was about to hang up when he called out.

     “Wait, how did you get my number? How did you know I used to see Paul?”

     I'd been anticipating that question, and since Paul was gone now it wouldn't hurt to lay the blame on him. “Paul kept a journal,” I lied.

     “And he mentioned me?” Luis sounded surprised and a little flattered.

     “Yes,” I said, and after a moment I added, “He seemed fond of you.”

     The line was quiet for a few seconds, and then he said simply. “Thank you,” and hung up.

     I hung up on my end too. There was one number left that I hadn't called yet, but I decided to wait and call later when he would be more likely to be home. That call had taken more out of me than I had expected. Somehow, I had never thought of an escort actually performing some sort of valuable service, but it was obvious it had meant a great deal to Luis. I wondered what Luis' life had been like that he had needed the validation of someone so badly. Was he been abused as a child? Told he was unattractive? Did he have a bad relationship that had left scars of the emotional kind? I almost wanted to call him back and ask, but it was really none of my business and certainly had no bearing on the case.

     I looked at my watch. It was still too early to call Jake's old friends and no one would be home from work for several more hours. I had some time to kill. I checked my e-mail, but there was nothing of importance. I went through the mail I'd set aside earlier, but that didn't take long either. There was no paperwork waiting to be done, Novak wasn't letting me do touch anything having to do with his secret case. He was doing all his own paperwork, assuming there was any. Maybe he wasn't even leaving a paper trail.

     I suddenly found myself bored. It was an unfamiliar feeling these days. It always seemed that I had something waiting that needed doing, either work or school related, and if not, I was doing something with Micah. I'd forgotten what free time was. I figured I had at least two hours to kill and not a single thing to do.

     I knocked on Novak's door and he told me to come in. I opened it wide enough to stick my head in.

     “You need anything done?” I asked.

     He looked up with a surprised expression on his face. “What?”

     “Do you need anything done?
Any filing, paperwork, typing?”

     He blinked disbelievingly. “You're asking me for work? Are you ill? Do you have a fever? Don't tell me you don't have anything to do.”

     “I have a couple free hours,” I admitted sheepishly.