The Truth of Yesterday (71 page)

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Authors: Josh Aterovis

BOOK: The Truth of Yesterday
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     “Does this have to do with your closure?” She said the last word sarcastically.

 

     “Yes.”

 

     “Killian, I'm going to have to side with
Chris
on this one,” Louis said. “It's obvious you're tired. If you hadn't been telling us about the investigation I think you would have been asleep in your plate by now. It's not safe to drive when you're that tired. Whatever it is you have to do will wait until morning.”

 

     I shook my head vehemently. “That's just it; it might not. I have a very narrow window if opportunity. I have to take advantage of it now. It could be too late by tomorrow. I have to drive back tonight.”

 

     Everyone sat in tense silence for a few seconds while Kevin looked back and forth between the three of us, all equally stubborn and determined. Louis finally broke the deadlock.

 

     “Ok,” he said.

 

     “Ok?”
Chris
demanded.

 

     “Yes, ok. Killian isn't my child. In fact, he isn't a child at all. He can make his own decisions. He knows the risks. If he says he has to drive back tonight, then he has to drive back tonight. I can't stop him.”

 

     “Thank you,” I said quietly. “I'd better head back soon though, so I'll be that much less tired.” He nodded and
Chris
scowled. “I have a few phone calls to make first though. I'll use my cell phone outside.”

 

     “You don't have to go outside unless you need the privacy.”

 

     “Well, that and I get better reception. I'll say goodbye before I leave.” I excused myself from the table and slipped outside, where I quickly dialed Judy's house. She answered on the first ring, as if she was sitting right next to the phone waiting.

 

     “Judy, it's Killian,” I said.

 

     
“Oh, hi Killian.”
Her voice was filled with disappointment, which pretty much answered my reason for calling. “You haven't heard from Jake?” I asked, just to be sure.

 

     
“Nothing.
Not a word since he left for the AIDS Ball.”

 

     “That's what I figured. Well, try not to worry. I think I know where he is and I'm going to try to go get him,” I told her.

 

     “Be careful,” she said, her voice carrying much more weight than I would have thought those simple words could convey.

 

     “Do I have reason to be?” I asked carefully.

 

     “Yes.”

 

     “Does this have anything to do with your...feeling? The one you told me about the other night?”

 

     “Yes. The feeling has gotten stronger.”

 

     I took a deep breath as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “I'll be careful,” I promised.

 

     I disconnected from her and quickly dialed Micah's number.

 

     “Hello?” he answered.

 

     “Hey, it's me,” I said.

 

     “What's going on? How are things going?”

 

     
“Very well.
I'll tell you everything but you have to be quiet until I'm finished because I need to hurry.”

 

     “What's the rush?”

 

     “I'll get to that.” I quickly told him everything that had happened since I'd talked to him last. I finished up with, “So Evans told me I only have 12-24 hours before the move to arrest Black. I have to get to Jake before that.”

 

     “Considering how badly he's wanted, I'd say you're probably closer to the 12 hour estimate, maybe even less.”

 

     “That's what I figured. So what I need from you now is Fenton Black's address.”

 

     “Why do you need to know that?”

 

     “I just told you I have to try to get Jake out of there before the police show up.”

 

     “You're not going to be able to just waltz in. He lives on a gated estate and I'd be willing to bet he has security guards. You could be walking right into their hands.”

 

     “It's a risk I have to take. I can't just leave Jake in there.”

 

     “Killian, this is nuts. Do you have a death wish?”

 

     “No,” I said between clenched teeth, trying not to think about Judy's premonition. “I do not have a death wish. If you're not going to help me I'll figure it out another way, but I'm doing this with or without your help.”

 

     Micah didn't say anything for so long that I began to think he'd hung up on me. Finally, I heard a small sigh. “Ok, fine. I'll help, but only on one condition.”

 

     “What's that?”

 

     “That you wait for me.”

 

     “Huh?”

 

     “Black's house is only about twenty minutes on this side of the bridge. He's closer to you than to me, so I want you to wait for me.”

 

     “You're not coming,” I said firmly.

 

     “It's the only way you'll get the address from me.”

 

     I stewed and argued for a few minutes, but eventually gave in. Micah gave me the address which I scribbled into my notebook.

 

     “The house is on a back road,” he told me. “There aren't any other houses nearby and it sits back from the road itself by quite a bit. A fence runs around the perimeter of the yard and the only way in is the front gate. The whole fence is electrified so don't try to climb it. If you go by the house, the road ends in another half-mile. There's a little cul-de-sac so you can turn around. On the left side of the cul-de-sac is a small dirt lane. I think it was a logging access road but it's mostly grown over now. There should be enough room for you to pull in and hide your car. Pull in as far as you can so I can get in behind you. Wait for me there.”

 

     “How do you know all this?” I asked as a funny feeling churned in my stomach.

 

     “I staked out the house this morning.”

 

     “Why?”

 

     
“Just in case I needed to know.
I like to be prepared.”

 

     There was a long pause. “When can you leave?” I asked.

 

     “I'm at work so it'll take me a few minutes to get everything squared away. I can't just walk out. It'll take me about an hour and half at least to drive up, so expect me in about two hours. From DC, it should take you about an hour to an hour and a half depending on traffic and how fast you drive.”

 

     “I'll wait for you there,” I said and hung up, having no intention of doing so.

 

     I let myself back in to find Kevin waiting for me by the door.

 

     “Are you really going to do something dangerous?” he asked eagerly.

 

     “I don't know.
Maybe.”

 

     “Will there be a shoot-out?”

 

     “I hope not. Where is
Chris
?”

 

     “She went up to her room. Do you have a gun?”

 

     “No. Can you show me to her room?”

 

     “Yeah, follow me.” He chattered incessantly all the way up the stairs to
Chris
' bedroom door, which was closed. I tapped hesitantly on the door.

 

     “
Chris
? It's me; can we talk?” I called.

 

     She opened it and stood glaring at me. I managed to get a peek around her at the room beyond. It was pretty much what I expected, organized and neat as a pin. A few black and white photographs in simple black frames hung on plain white walls. A state-of-the-art computer center shared the wall I could see with a floor to ceiling bookcase filled to overflowing. The only feminine touch in the entire room was the bed; a pastel abstract print bedspread covered an ornate brass bed.

 

     “I thought you were in a hurry,” she said peevishly.

 

     “I
sorta
am, but I didn't want to leave until we talked.”

 

     “What's there to talk about? I thought we were partners and here you go running off to do something stupid and/or dangerous and you won't even tell me what it is.”

 

     “Is that what this is really about? That you're not included?”

 

     She frowned. “Maybe,” she admitted.

 

     “If I tell you what I'm doing will you ease up on me?”

 

     
“Maybe.”

 

     “Look,
Chris
. I meant what I said at dinner. It's true that I could have never done this without you. I've really enjoyed working with you and I'd like to think that we became friends as well as partners in this investigation. It would be great if we could work together again someday, if I have a case that leads me up this way.”

 

     “Yeah, I'd like that too,” she conceded. “I've learned a lot working with you. You're a good investigator, Killian.”

 

     “So are you.
Friends?”

 

     
“Yeah.
Now, what is that you have to do?”

 

     I quickly gave her a rudimentary outline of what I was going to try. She stared at me dubiously when I finished.

 

     “That sounds extremely stupid and dangerous,” she said.

 

     I shrugged. “Maybe so, but I have to do it.”

 

     
“Because this guy Jake used to be a friend of yours?”

 

     “Yeah, and because I feel I let him down as a friend. That's part of the reason he's in this position to begin with. I feel like I owe it to him to at least try to get him out of there before the cops show up. Maybe it will start to make up for being such an awful friend.”

 

     “I can't imagine you ever being an awful friend, Killian. It takes two people to make a friendship.”

 

     “It's just something I have to do.”

 

     “Ok. Just...be careful.”

 

     “I will.” `Be careful' was soon going to become my motto.

 

     She stepped forward and surprised me by giving me an awkward hug. “Let me know how it turns out,” she said after she stepped back and wiped her palms nervously on her baggy corduroy pants.

 

     “Ok.”

 

     “Wish I was going,” she added with very real wistfulness in her voice.

 

     I raised an eyebrow. “I think that would make you the stupid one here.”

 

     “What do you mean?”

 

     “I don't
want
to go. It's not that I can't wait to throw myself into harm's way. It's just something I feel I have to do.”

 

     She grinned and shrugged. “I'd like a little more excitement in my life. So sue me.”

 

     I laughed and turned to let myself out.

 

     “Hey, Killian?” she said. I stopped in the doorway. “You've definitely made things exciting lately. Now I know that I definitely do want to become a cop. Thanks.”

 

     “Anytime,” I said with a wink. “You'll make a good cop.”

 

     “You think so?”

 

     “I know so.”

 

     I shut her door behind me, said my goodbyes to Louis and Kevin, and started on the drive to Black's house. I had to make it there well before Micah if my plan was going to work.

 

     My exhaustion caught up with me as soon as I got on Route 50. It was a constant struggle just to keep my eyes open. My eyelids felt like they were made of lead. After a few swerves onto the shoulder, I rolled my window down and let the crisp fall air hit me directly in the face. That worked for a little while, but even that began to wear off before long. I turned on the radio, found an obnoxiously upbeat pop station, and cranked the volume up as loud as I could stand it. It was an exercise in futility.

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