The Truth of Yesterday

by Josh Aterovis

  I laughed too. “I didn't really think that was what was happening. It just went through my mind and I blurted it out before I could think.”

  “Well, you can relax. I don't plan on getting married,” he paused, and then added, “Yet.”

  We fell into silence as I thought about that yet and all its implication.

  Once in the capitol, Micah drove to a hotel. It wasn't quite as nice as the one we stayed in the last time we were here, but it was clean and it would be more than sufficient for the brief time we would be spending in it. We left our clothes in the room and took the Metro to the Dupont area. We browsed through some of the stores, the HRC headquarters, Lambda Rising Bookstore, and an odd little store that specialized in mystery books, among others. I even bought a Mercedes Lackey book that I hadn't read yet at Lambda. Another short Metro ride and we were at the Mall. We walked around the Washington Monument, the moonlight shimmering beautifully in the reflecting pool. By then it was time to head on over to Michelangelo's.

  The club was just as packed as it had been the last time we were there. Bodies writhed and wriggled everywhere you looked, most of them male bodies, but not all. It was just as exhilarating as I remembered. I let the music sink into my body and allowed the beat to take over. We danced until I was completely exhausted, stopping only to drink the bottled water that Micah kept pushing on me.

  “I don't want you to dehydrate,” he yelled over the din.

  We left at three in the morning, tired, relaxed, and happy. We caught a cab back to the hotel, expensive at that time of night but the Metro had stopped running by then. When we got back to the hotel room, we both shed our clothes and collapsed into bed. I hope Micah didn't have any romantic intentions, because I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. Hey, it had been a long day! It had been a good day too. It felt good to be back with Micah and it seemed like things were beginning to go right for a change. I should have suspected that it was just the calm before the storm.

  Chapter 19

  I woke up the next morning to find myself in Micah's arms for the second morning in a row. I found it was just as pleasant the second time around. I squirmed around until I was facing him and somehow he slept through my rearrangement. I watched him sleep for a few minutes, marveling that he was mine and that he wanted to be with me. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. I leaned forward and began to tickle his ear with my tongue.

  He twitched and rubbed his ear, but still didn't wake up, so I leaned in and tried it again. He jerked away and blinked, giving me a confused look for a moment. As his bleary eyes focused on me, I was rewarded with a huge smile.

  “Good morning,” I purred, pressing my body against his.

  “Waking up to you makes it a good morning,” he said. He trailed a hand lazily down my side, his fingertips barely grazing my skin, and I felt a chill snake its way deliciously through my body. “Am I mistaken,” he asked, “or did someone wake up a bit horny this morning?”

  “You must be mistaken,” I said with all the innocence I could manage with my obvious state of arousal sticking in his side.

  “Really? Then you won't mind if I go take a shower,” he said and started to get up. I grabbed and pulled him back down onto the bed.

  “You are not going anywhere, mister,” I growled.

  He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me. “You fell asleep on me last night,” he said teasingly.

  “Well, I'm awake now,” I shot back. “Make the most of it while you can. If you don't do something soon I might just doze off again.”

  He flipped me onto my back with a devilish grin, then leaned forward slowly and brushed his lips across my stomach. It did a little somersault and I couldn't hold back a small gasp. “Oh, I think I can keep you awake,” he said in a husky voice. I didn't doubt him for a second.

  * * *

  Adam was actually home when I pulled into the driveway later that day. Micah had dropped me off at the office a little earlier and I had decided to drive home for some more clothes before I went back to the bed and breakfast.

  “Well, Micah has made the big leagues,” Adam greeted me as I walked through the door. “I hope you're ready for the flack that going to come out of this.”

  “Huh?” I responded.

  “His article. Didn't you see it yet?”

  “No, we went to DC last night. We just got back.”

  He made a face. “He may wish he'd stayed there before this is over.”

  “Why? What's going on?” I asked, concerned at the tone of Adam's voice.

  “I think you'd better take a look at the article.” He walked into the living room and I trailed behind. He handed me the front-page section of the Sunday paper. “At least he made the front page.”

  I took the paper and read the main headline. “County Council Corruption,” it screamed in large, bold font, and under that, in smaller print, “Payoffs, Bribes, and Cover-ups Abound in County Government.” I glanced at the byline and there was Micah's name.

  “I knew he was working on this,” I said. “Is it a big deal?”

  Adam snorted. “You'd better believe this is a big deal. He's stirring up a hornets nest and some of these hornets pack a mean sting. He'd better plan on laying low for the next few days. There are bound to be some people out for blood over this.”

  “Do you mean that literally or figuratively?” I asked.

  “I hope figuratively, but you never know. According to that article, some of these people were involved in illegal deals that are in the millions of dollars. They're not going to be very happy about losing those deals, which is probably the very least of what is about to happen to them. There will be official investigations, fines, and possibly even indictments. And we're talking about influential people in local government. You know better than anyone what happens when you mess with the good old boys club.”

  He was referring to my real father. He had been the State's Attorney in a neighboring county before an investigation into the mishandling of a murder investigation brought down his own little empire of corruption. In that case, the corruption wasn't as wide-spread as Micah's article made this out to look, and most of the blame landed squarely in my father's lap. He was currently serving a five year prison sentence.

  “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 c
atching 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.”