He turned slowly around to face me. “What did you say?” he asked in a low voice.
I realized what I had said and blushed furiously.
“We're getting married?” he persisted.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times but nothing came out.
“Are you proposing to me, Killian Kendall?”
“I...I...I...”
He grinned and let me off the hook, “Breathe, Killian. Inhale, exhale. I'm just kidding. I know we're not there yet, I was just teasing you.”
My knees buckled a bit as air rushed back into my lungs. As much as I loved Micah, I definitely wasn't ready for that level of commitment.
Micah reached out and straightened my tie. “One day, maybe we'll be there. It's not such a bad thought, is it?”
I shook my head no, slipped my hand into his, and pulled him close for a kiss. He broke away a few minutes later.
“Before we get too carried away and decide to just skip the ball, I have a few more surprises for you,” he said.
“More surprises?” I echoed.
He walked over to the breakfast bar and picked up a rectangular white box about twelve inches square and three inches deep. He handed it to me and I was surprised at how light it was.
“Open it,” he said.
I sat down on the couch, lifted the lid, and caught my breath. Inside was an exquisite mask. It was covered in hundreds of tiny brilliantly colored glass beads in an intricate pattern.
“Micah, it's beautiful. Where did you get it?”
“I have my sources,” he said, positively beaming at my reaction. “I was hoping you'd like it. Each bead was hand sewn onto it.”
“It must have cost a fortune!”
“Let's not talk about that. I can say that I couldn't afford two of them, so mine's a little less...unique.” He produced a white Phantom of the Opera half-mask from behind the counter somewhere and held it up to his face. It was obviously not one of the cheap plastic ones but it was nothing like the mask on my lap.
“I'm afraid to even wear it,” I said. “It's a work of art.”
“Of course you're going to wear it and yes, it is a work of art. I didn't spend that much money for something to sit in a box. And after the Ball I'll have it framed or something and you can hang it on the wall.”
I stood up and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“You're welcome. Now, we have to go or we're going to be late.”
I agreed and we started for the door. Usually, we'd want to make a fashionably late entrance, but this time we wanted to be in place before Jake got there so we could observe him, hopefully without his seeing us first. It had the added bonus of being able to see all the “beautiful people” as they arrived. We were at the door before I remembered that Micah had said he had a few more surprises and so far, I'd only seen my mask.
“Hey, what are the other...?” I stopped mid-question as he opened the door and I got my answer.
An obscenely long black limousine was sitting in the parking lot, complete with uniformed driver waiting patiently by the door for us. The drive there was incredible. I couldn't believe Micah had gone to all this trouble.
“I know you're technically working, but I wanted it to be special,” he explained. “The AIDS Ball is one of the social events of the year, and attending, even while on a case, should be a big deal.”
The Ball was being held in the ballroom of the nicest hotel in the city. I'd never been there before that night, but I'd heard it was a spectacular room. It lived up to its reputation...and then some. It was done in the opulent style of the Golden Age of Hollywood; crystal chandeliers, red carpets, dark wood polished to such a shine you could practically see your reflection. I fully expected to see Bette Davis, Marlene Dietrich, and Cary Grant sipping a martini around every corner.
Not many people were there when we arrived, which is just the way we'd planned it. We were able to position ourselves in a fairly inconspicuous spot where we could observe the people coming in the main doors and the rest of the room at the same time. The crowd began to arrive soon after. It was a veritable who's who of Eastern Shore society. Micah kept up a running commentary for me since I didn't know most of them. There were various local officials and politicians, a congressman, the mayor, the police chief, some of the wealthiest, and therefore influential, residents of the lower Shore-the list went on and on until I eventually lost track of who was who.
I noticed that many of the local officials who wandered by us, seemed to recognize Micah. As they did, their face would take on a rather disgusted expression and they would make a show of turning their backs to him. Some of the looks were downright hostile.
“Does your status as official pariah have anything to do with that article?” I asked him finally.
“Yeah. Try not to let it bother you. Just ignore them.”
“You'd think they would be grateful to have the corruption exposed,” I fumed.
Micah snorted. “Surely you jest. First off, the ones that were exposed as corrupted were popular. Some of them had been in local politics for decades. That makes me the bad guy. Secondly, corruption has a way of spreading to everyone associated with those involved with the corruption, whether they were actually involved or not. It taints everyone with a certain suspicion. Since this is an election year, that once again makes me the bad guy. Are you seeing a trend here? And finally, I wouldn't be at all surprised if some of these people here were involved in the corruption and they were just better at hiding their involvement. Like I've said, this thing is a lot bigger than we originally thought and I'm just beginning to see how big it is now.”
Just then, the mayor approached us. I wondered if he was going to tear into Micah about the article, but his warm smile immediately dispelled that thought. He shook Micah's hand and then mine as Micah introduced us. He made polite noises in my direction, and then turned his attention back to Micah.
“Mr. Gerber,” he began.
“Please, Mr. Mayor, call me Micah.”
“Only if you'll call me Phil,” he said with a wide politician's smile. “Micah, I just wanted to say that you're doing excellent work on this corruption case and you have my full support. I know certain people may be giving you a hard time, but you're doing the right thing.”
“Thank you, Mayor...er...Phil. That means a lot,” Micah said sincerely.
They shook hands again and the mayor wandered off to glad handle his other voting constituents.
I was just returning my attention to the doors when Micah grabbed my elbow and started to drag me off. “Where are we going?” I asked.
“I want you to meet someone,” he said. He steered me towards a distinguished looking gentleman talking to a group of equally distinguished men and women. The man looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't place where I had seen him before. The first thing I noticed was that he was very tall. He towered over almost everyone else present. He wasn't, however, one of those tall people shaped like sticks. He was more like a tree, maybe a sequoia. He was just plain huge. His short hair was iron gray and not a hair was out of place. Somehow, though, even with his considerable bulk, or maybe because of it, he carried himself with an effortless grace.
“Dr. Mason,” Micah said, and the large man turned and smiled when he saw Micah.
“Micah,” he said in a surprisingly soft, cultured voice. He separated himself from the group of people with whom he'd been talking and moved a few feet away with us. “So good to see you.” He looked to me and his eyes twinkled. Where had I seen him before? “And who is this?”
“This is my boyfriend, Killian Kendall. Killian, this is Dr. Hiram Mason.”
His name clicked into place as I reached out to shake his hand. “You're the president of Pemberton University,” I said, quite unnecessarily since I'm sure he knew who he was.
“That would be correct. It's a pleasure to meet you, Killian. Are you a student?”
“Yes, sir. In my first year.”
“N
one of this sir business.” His eyes sparkled again and I felt like I was missing out on some great joke. “This is quite a party, isn't it? Although, I have to say I've seen better. The music is a little a dull.” He said, tilting his head towards the live jazz band playing at one end of the room.
“You'd rather they played a little techno?” Micah asked. I was surprised at his familiar tone. I hadn't even known Micah knew the president of Pemberton.
“Disco was more my era, Micah,” he said with a chuckle. “But I'm afraid my dancing days are over.”
“Oh, I believe you could still dance circles around anyone here,” Micah said with a grin.
His comment pulled up a memory from a few weeks ago and suddenly my brain made the connection with a jolt like an electric shock. I felt my mouth drop open and my eyes grow wide as I stared rudely at Dr. Mason. Micah leaned over casually and used one finger below my chin to shut my mouth.
Dr. Mason, obviously trying to hide a smile, patted me on the shoulder. “Our little secret, Killian,” he said.
I nodded mutely as one of the women from the group of people he'd been with when we approached disengaged herself and took his arm. She looked to be a little younger than he, with dyed blonde hair and slightly too much makeup for her age. Her dress was one size too small for her figure and her jewelry could only be described as ostentatious. They made a decidedly mismatched pair.
“Dear, this is an old friend Micah Gerber and his friend Killian Kendall,” Dr. Mason introduced us. “This is my wife, Lenore.”
Before Micah or I could say a word, assuming I was yet capable of speech, her face took on a pouty expression. “I'm thirsty, Hi,” she whined.
“Then we'll get a drink. Boys, if you'll excuse me...”
“Of course,” Micah said.
“It was nice meeting you, Killian,” Dr. Mason said, I nodded again and he gave me a surreptitious wink as they moved off.
“Charming lady, isn't she?” Micah asked when they were out of earshot.
“That...”
“Hmm?”
“He...”
“Spit it out, Killian.”
“He's married?”
“Yep. Forty-five blissful years, I think it is.”
“But...”
“But what?”
I shook my head silently. I'd have to think on that one for a while.
It was turning out to be a night of surprises and I hadn't even found Jake yet. I scanned the room as we started back towards our observation spot. I suddenly froze in my tracks as I received the biggest surprise of the evening. On the far side of the room, I had spotted Jake. That wasn't the surprising part; I'd come specifically to find him, after all. It wasn't even all that surprising that he'd gotten in without us seeing him. He could have easily slipped in either while we were talking to the mayor or Dr. Mason. The surprising part was whose arm he was hanging on.
Micah realized I had stopped and followed my gaze. “Well, I'll be damned,” he breathed. “I didn't expect to see him here.”
“You know him?” I gasped.
“Not personally, but I know of him. Every reporter in the tri-state area, and possible farther than that, knows who he is. That's Fenton Black.”
“No it isn't!” I blurted out. “That's Neal!”
Chapter 25
Micah blinked at me in astonishment. He looked at the man I knew as Neal and then back at me. “What did you say?” he asked in confusion, obviously deciding that he had misheard me.
“That's Neal,” I hissed, tugging at his arm. I wanted to get out of Neal's line of sight before he or Jake spotted me.
Micah suddenly became a stubborn mule and planted his feet firmly against my pull. “Neal as in...?”
“As in your old boss. As in the guy in the newspaper clipping in Jake's room. As in the guy I was just sitting across the table from in DC earlier this week. Now move before they see us.”
He reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled behind a large column. “I don't understand,” he whined. “That's Fenton Black. I know it is. I've never met him personally but I've been in his presence before. I know him when I see him.”
“Who is Fenton Black?”
“You've never heard of Fenton Black?”
“If I had, would I be asking you who he is?”
“He's probably the richest guy on the Eastern Shore, possible one of the richest in the country. No one knows exactly how much money he has or how he got it in the first place, just that it's an obscene amount. He's originally from Columbia, South America. He's known to be a bit eccentric and if I said there are a lot of rumors about him it would be an understatement.”
“What kind of rumors?”
“Well, no one has ever been able to prove anything, but it's whispered that he has pretty much every politician in the area in his pocket and the ones he hasn't bought off are in his debt in some way. Officially, he's in the import/export business; that's pretty vague but it's said that all his imports aren't entirely legal. Drugs, for instance. A few people have suggested that he's the kingpin of some sort of large-scale organized crime society.”
“Like a mafia?”
“Something along those lines.”
“But nothing can be proved?”
“Not so far. Anyone that ever hints to the authorities that they know facts about him seems to wind up dead of some unfortunate accident. And to be honest, I don't know if catching him is a big priority on anyone's list. The guy's sharp; he gives enormous amounts of money to charity. I think he single handedly sustains several local charities. In some people's minds, his money pays for his sins.”
I peeked around the edge of the column. “Well, you can add running an escort agency to his list of sins,” I said, “Because that is definitely the man I met on Monday who introduced himself to me as Neal.”
“This is just unbelievable,” Micah muttered, peering over my shoulder. “Well, at least now I know what Neal looks like.”
“You never met him the entire time you worked for him?”
“As far as I know, no one who worked for him ever has.”
That gave me just a glimmer of hope that maybe Jake wasn't an escort. Unless he'd changed his policy of never meeting his employees. Of course, if Jake wasn't an escort, that begged the question of how Jake knew him. So many things just weren't making sense right now.
“You have to give him one thing, he's got balls,” Micah said almost admiringly.
“What do you mean?” I asked, ducking back behind the column and glaring at my boyfriend.
“I mean meeting you and then showing up here?”
“He wouldn't have any reason to expect me to be here,” I said. “Still, his picture could have wound up in the paper again.”
“Actually, he's notoriously freakish about having his picture taken. Usually he won't allow it for any reason, and if someone takes one without his permission he'll demand the entire roll of film.”
“Well, someone got away with it at least once, Jake has that clipping.”
“You know, I remember when that was taken. It was earlier this year. It was at some fundraiser for a children's hospital or something like that. It was taken and published without his knowledge in some small local paper. The paper mysteriously went under a few weeks later. I remember one of the other reporters joked that it was because they published Fenton Black's photo and everyone laughed that uncomfortably like you do when you suspect that the joke might actually be true.”
“But the chance is still there that I could see him and recognize him somewhere, somehow. That makes it a risk. He doesn't sound like the kind of guy who takes risks. Why would he meet with me?”
“Probably because he didn't take you seriously. He thought it would be better to meet with you and get you off his back. He never suspected to run into you. Or maybe he's just getting cocky.”
“Oh jeez. Something you said just clicked. You're right, I think he underestimated me at first, but I don't think he was making that mistake by th
e end of our meeting. I could very well be on his hit list now.”
Micah paled. “So what do we do now?” he asked. “Somehow, I have a feeling that it would be unhealthy for you to let him see you here.”
“I can't leave if that's what you're suggesting,” I said immediately.
“Why not?”
“I don't know why Jake is here with him. That's the whole reason I'm here. Remember? Novak pulled a lot of strings to get me these tickets; he'd kick my ass if I wasted this opportunity.”
“Not if you don't have an ass to kick. Killian, this guy is dangerous. Deadly dangerous. You're really playing with fire here. I think we should leave.”
The Truth of Yesterday Page 37