Josh Aterovis is the author of Bleeding Hearts (ISBN: 1930928688) and the upcoming Reap the Whirlwind (Coming in 2003), published by Renaissance Alliance Publishing Inc.
Visit Black Sheep Productions for more information or to sign up for regular updates.
Official Site of the Killian Kendall Mystery Series http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts
Enjoy the next chapter in The Truth of Yesterday.
Chapter 15
I had plenty of time to think about my conversation with Chris on the long drive home alone. I was surprised when she asked for the whole story, but after thinking about it for a few minutes while she waited patiently, I decided that it was best if I told her everything. If she was going to be my partner in this investigation, and I really hoped she would be since it looked as if we would work well together, then she needed to know. What if I had another one of my 'psychic friends' moments? She needed to be prepared. I decided that if she couldn't handle it, or chose not to believe it, then that was her choice, but at least she'd know what was going on.
So I told her. I started by telling her about Seth and his murder, and how he had started coming to see me. Then I told her about Amalie and everything that Judy had told me about the Gifts, how I had been reluctant to use them. I finished up by telling her everything that had happened in Paul's apartment. To my surprise-and relief-when I had finished the whole story she just nodded and said, "Ok."
"Ok?" I had responded, not sure what she meant.
"Yeah. It's no biggie."
"No biggie? Dead people talk to me, or at least they communicate with me, and all you have to say is no biggie? Don't you care?"
She gave me a withering look. "Why should I care? A good investigator uses whatever tools he has available. I can't even pretend to understand this...gift that you have. I do know I'm very glad I don't have it. But as long as you do, you should use it. I mean, hell, the results speak for themselves. You found that key and there's no way you would have ever found it otherwise, right?"
I nodded.
"Then what's the big deal. You have an ability most people don't have. I don't envy you for it, but it could definitely have its uses. My advice, unsolicited as it is, would be to get all the training for it that you can. Maybe you'll be able to control the, er, attacks like the one you had in the apartment, when you felt like you were being strangled. At any rate, the better you understand it all, the more helpful and the less scary it all will be."
"You know, that's pretty much what Judy and Seth have been saying all along, but hearing it from you seems to makes more sense."
She laughed. "Well, at least something makes sense."
The Metro pulled into New Carrolton station just about then and we said our goodbyes.
Our conversation had given me a lot to think about as I drove. It was the first time I'd laid everything out like that for someone else, and she was only the second person I'd ever told about Seth. I'd never even told Micah, and I wasn't at all sure I ever would. There was just something about Chris that I trusted instinctively. She had a down-to-earth quality about her, a certain practicality that I found comforting.
More importantly, however, I realized that I had made up my mind to do what Judy had been bugging me to do for months now, get training for my Gifts. It was a scary thought because it meant I had to face them to do that, and I still wasn't entirely sure I wanted to do that. As much as I didn't want to, though, I knew I had to. Things seemed to be escalating and I didn't like it. Had all my Gifts manifested themselves or did I have more surprises to come? I wasn't at all sure I could handle any more surprises.
I arrived home around eight to find an empty house. The way things had been going lately I somehow wasn't surprised. I debated whom I should call first, Novak or Judy. Novak could wait for morning, I decided; Judy I needed to talk to now.
I breathed a sigh of relief when she answered on the third ring.
"Are you busy right now?" I asked.
"Not really," she answered after a slight hesitation.
"I need to talk to you."
"Is it about...?" Her voice was filled with tension.
"Jake? No, this is personal."
"You want to talk now?"
"Yes, please, if it isn't too much trouble."
"No, I don't suppose it is. Do you want to come here or would you rather I came there?"
"I'd rather you came here, but it doesn't really matter."
"I'll be over shortly," she said and hung up. I had the feeling that I was interrupting something but she was too polite to say so.
True to her word, Judy was knocking on the front door in no time.
"Thank you for coming over," I said as I let her in.
"You're welcome. Now, do you mind telling me what this is all about?"
"Something happened today and I needed to talk to you about it."
"In DC?"
"Yeah," I said slowly. "How did you know I was in DC? Oh...your gift?"
She laughed. "Shane told me, you goof. Look, before we get started, can I make some tea?"
"Sure, I'll show where everything is," I said while blushing furiously.
We went into kitchen where Judy went to work heating up a kettle of water on the stove.
"I don't think we have any tea leaves," I said with my head in the cabinet. "Just Lipton tea bags."
Judy leaned against the counter with a bemused expression. "That's fine. I wasn't planning on doing any readings. I just want tea. Now tell me what happened today in DC."
I sat down at the table and took a deep breath. "I'm investigating a murder," I started out. "I don't know how much Novak told you..."
"Just that you were in DC on a case. No details."
"The boy who was murdered, well man really, he was strangled in his apartment. I was in there looking around and when I opened the door to the room where he was killed, something happened."
"Wait, do I need any background information?"
"Um, I don't think so. Except, the police don't seem to be too interested in solving this case. The man killed was an escort. You know what an escort is, right?"
She arched an eyebrow. "Sweetie, I wasn't born yesterday. I would hope I know what an escort is. My question is how did you stumble on this case? It's in DC, as far as I know you don't frequent escorts, and for that matter, how'd you get in his apartment?"
"Ok, so maybe you do need a little background," I said with a sigh. "The man killed, his name is Paul. He was a...friend of Micah's." I knew my pause told her more than I'd intended so I rushed on. "That's how I got involved and that's why I had a key to his apartment."
"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."
"Huh?"
"It doesn't necessarily have to be Paul himself. Our personalities leave an imprint of themselves on any place where you spend a great deal of time. That impression isn't exactly sentient but if you have a strong enough Gift it can respond to direct questions."
"But what about feeling like I was being strangled? And that feeling that I was being drawn to the bedroom?"
"Both of those could just be aspects of your gift, sensitivity to strong emotional imprints. Death is a pretty strong imprint, at least a violent death is. I'm not surprised you picked up on that. And if you were going to be drawn anywhere it would the bedroom, where the strongest impression was."
"So you don't think that Paul's ghost is really in the apartment? It's just this impression?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. He could be. I'm just throwing out some other options."
"You're not a big help, you know that?"
"Hey, I can stop coming."
"No, don't."
"Then quit your whining."
I stuck my tongue out at him. He quickly returned the favor then vanished into thin air.
"You always have to have the last word, don't you?" I grumbled at the now empty room.
I had classes the next morning, but when I arrived at the office that afternoon I found Novak sitting at my desk.
"I've got good news," he said before I was even all the way through the door.
"What has happened to manners in this society?" I lamented. "Doesn't anyone say hello anymore?"
"I thought you'd be more interested in my news."
"I am," I admitted. "Still, it would have been nice to get some sort of greeting. I have news for you too. Actually, I just want to fill you in on my day yesterday."
"And I want to hear it. Which do you want to do first?"
"You're news of course."
"I got you in to the AIDS Ball."
"Yes!" I shouted. "You're a miracle worker, Novak!"
"I don't know about that. I just happened to know someone who had a few extra tickets."
"A few?"
"Well, two to be exact."
"Are you going with me?"
"No, you're going with Micah."
That brought me up short. "What? Why?"
"I want someone along with you and I don't think I'm the best choice. You're bound to run into Jake while you're there and I would have no reason to be there. You and Micah, on the other hand, could conceivably be there; Micah in his roll as reporter and you as his date."
"But..." I started to argue. I wasn't sure I was ready to go on a date with Micah just yet, even a work date.
"No buts. Either you go with Micah or not at all." I was almost beginning to think Novak was playing a bit of the matchmaker here.
"When is it?" I asked sullenly.
"Next Friday, Halloween night. It's a masquerade ball."
"Great. So now I have to find a costume too."
"If you don't want to stand out like a sore thumb, yes. And you might want to let Micah know too, so he can come up with something. By the way, this isn't your average costume party; you can't go dressed as a mummy. It's a formal masquerade ball, tuxedos with masks are the normal attire."
"You're kidding," I choked out.
"I assure you, I'm not."
"But how are we supposed to know who anyone is if everyone is wearing masks?"
"People seldom leave the masks on the whole time at soirees like this. The whole purpose in going in the first place is to see and be seen."
I sighed. "Nothing is ever simple, is it?"
"What would be the fun in that? Now tell me about your day yesterday. How did the first day of your investigation go?"
I gave him a brief rundown, emitting the more supernatural elements of the adventure. He was quiet for a minute when I had finished, then said, "That was a good report; now give me your impressions so far. What you actually feel rather than a blow-by-blow of what happened."
"Well," I began slowly. "I don't like Razi. I instinctively don't trust him, but somehow I don't really think he's the killer."
"But you know by now not to go on instinct alone. You didn't think Caleb Cohen was a killer either."
"I know. I think a lot of my dislike for him might be based on the situation with Tad. I don't feel at all comfortable with that."
"Nor do I, but it's a side issue right now. You should just turn it over to the police, but whatever you decide to do, don't let it distract you from your real case. Once the case is over, if nothing has changed, you can revisit the situation if you want. Anything else?"
"Everyone I've talked to mentions his secretive behavior the last few weeks or months. I think that might be connected somehow."
"Good thinking. What's your next step?"
"I think I need to talk to his family and the guy who owns the agency."
He smiled. "You're doing great, Kid. That's exactly what I would have suggested. The only thing I would add is that I think the agency needs to be your higher priority. Find this Neal person and talk to him. To do that, I think you need to talk to Micah."
There he went pushing me towards Micah again. Or was I just being overly sensitive? I sighed, but I knew he was right.
"I'll call him now," I said unenthusiastically. "As soon as you let me have my desk back anyway."
Novak stood up and moved towards his office, then stopped in the door as I took the seat he had just vacated. "I know this is none of my business, but whatever is going on with you and Micah, you should work it out before it's too late."
I looked up sharply. "What do you mean, before it's too late?"
"Life is unpredictable, Kiddo. You never know what tomorrow might hold. Let go of the unimportant things, hang on to the things that matter." And with that, he pulled into his office and shut the door with a quiet click.
I sat for a minute, thinking about what he had said, trying to separate the important from the unimportant. It's often hard to tell the difference when you are in the thick of it, but I knew one thing for certain, even if my heart wasn't quite ready to admit it. I took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and dialed Micah's cell phone number.