Authors: Josh Aterovis
All Things Lost (31 page)
“They didn't buy it, huh?” I asked.
“What's to buy? It's the truth, damn it.”
“Maybe, but it's also the truth that the house is haunted,” I pointed out, reasonably I thought.
“Killian,” Adam began.
“Don't start, Adam,” I cut him off, “You weren't there, you didn't hear it and…and feel it.”
“You have an overactive imagination, that's all.”
“Meanwhile,” Steve said, drawing our attention back to him, “I've lost my painting crew and so far I haven't been able to find anyone to take over. If word gets around that the place is haunted I'll be lucky to find anyone, these guys are so superstitious.”
“Surely they can't all be that irrational,” Adam said.
“It's not all that irrational, if you ask me,” I insisted, “And it's definitely not just a matter of superstition. Maybe
Amalie
doesn't like what you're doing to her house.”
“It's not her house! It's mine now. And she's dead so she doesn't have a say in the damn decorating anymore.”
“I wish you'd listen to yourself,” Adam said, “Besides, this won't really hold anything up will it? I mean, they really can't paint until all the other stuff is finished anyway. The other crews can keep on working.”
“Assuming they don't quit too,” Steve said darkly. “And I still have to find another painter.”
“Start again in the morning. It won't seem like such a crisis after you've calmed down and you'll be more apt to catch someone in their office.”
He sighed, “I guess you're right. There isn't anything more I can do tonight.”
“You could always just ask
Amalie
to stop it,” I suggested and was rewarded with a dirty look in stereo.
* * *
I didn't have to wait long for Micah to get in touch with me. The very next day at work I got a call mid-morning.
“I've got something for you,” he said as soon as I answered.
“Micah?”
I asked.
“Yeah, it's me. Can you meet me today at the Plaza Café around
?”
“You mean afternoon, right?”
He laughed, “No, I mean
. Of course I mean afternoon. It's my lunch break and I thought we could talk while we ate. Is that ok?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Great, then it's a date.”
“A date?”
“It's just an expression, Killian. In the words of the great literary genius, Douglas Adams, don't panic. See you at
…p.m.”
“Way to go, Killian,” I thought as I hung up. “Keep this up and he's going to think you're a total dork.” Then I wondered why I cared so much what he thought of me.
“Who was that?” Novak asked as he emerged from his inner sanctum with a stack of paperwork.
“A possible source,” I said distractedly.
“
Ooo
, a source.
How very cloak and dagger.
Are you meeting him in a dark parking garage?”
I gave him a look and said, “No, I'm meeting him at the Plaza Café at
…p.m.”
“And what exactly is he a source of, pray tell?”
“I'm doing what you told me to do, following up on the Rachel Cohen angle.”
“The Rachel Cohen angle?” he laughed, “You've been reading too many detective novels.”
“Sure, pick on Killian. That seems to be the favorite pastime around here.”
“All in good fun, kid. Don't go getting testy on me now. I wouldn't tease you if I didn't think you knew I was just kidding.”
“Oh, I know. Don't mind me. I just have a lot on my mind.”
“If this case is starting to get to you we'll back off for a while. You can't let yourself get too caught up in things. It's not worth it. We're not even getting paid for it.”
“It's not just the case,
it's
personal stuff too. Don't worry, I'll be fine.”
“Don't overdo it, kid. If you ever need to talk about anything, I'm here for you.”
“Thanks, Novak.”
He went back into his office, ruffling my hair as he went. I realized how fond I was becoming of him. He was more than just a mentor; he was fast becoming a good friend.
I arrived downtown a little early; I had overestimated the amount traffic for that time of day, so I decided to visit Nikki
Avanti
at her art gallery,
Avant
Guard. It was right on the plaza and I hadn't seen her since Aidan and Will's wedding. Nikki was the person who had given Will his big break into the art world, which he had failed to follow up on after Aidan's death.
She was busy with a customer when I slipped in. Native American flute music was wafting hauntingly through the air, a perfect compliment to the prominent display of Native American art. It seemed to be the theme of the month here at
Avant
Guard.
Nikki herself looked unique as always. I don't think I had ever seen her look the same twice. The last time I had seen her, her bright yellow hair had been short and spiky. Today she had it platted into hundreds of tiny multicolored braids that tumbled around her bare shoulders. She wore a brightly colored peasant blouse over faded form-fitting jeans that laced up in the front with a leather thong. Her black horn-rimmed glasses and silver feather shaped earrings completed the ensemble. Only Nikki could have carried it off so convincingly. She looked stunning.
She finished with the customer, who left with a large clay pot that had been decorated with a geometric design, and turned to me with a pleasant, generic smile. It took her a second to recognize me.
“Killian!” she exclaimed brightly.
“You remembered my name,” I said in mild surprise. We had only met a few times.
“Of course!
How could I forget a cutie like you? Besides, I almost never forget a name or a face. How's Will?”
“Better than he has been, I guess. It's a slow process.”
“I can't even imagine.
Poor kid.
Is he painting at all?”
“Not since Aidan died. I think he's almost ready, though. It will be a big step for him. Maybe you should go visit him, give him a gentle push.”
“Maybe I will. I miss him. Has the baby arrived yet?”
“Last month. He's beautiful. Will
named
him Darin. That reminds me, where's Derrick?”
“Oh, my dear brother is off
putzing
around
Europe
, pretty much being a processed American piece of Euro trash. Officially he's supposed to be scouting for some art for the gallery but he's been gone an awful long time. Not that I'm complaining.”
I laughed. “It looks like you've gone native in his absence.” I said with a gesture towards the display.
“Oh, that's just for this month. It's all done by a friend of mine, Lily Little Fawn Snyder. I've been after her for years to do a show and she finally agreed, bless her heart. Of course I had to sleep with her to get her to do it.” She let out a huge laugh.
My eyes widened. “I thought you had a boyfriend.”
“Sam? He's ancient history. Decided he wanted to get married and have a huge family. Ha! Can you imagine me with kids?”
“And now you're seeing…”
“Lily, yeah, although it's not all that serious on either of our parts.
I can see you're a little confused. I'm what I like to call omni-sexual. I go where my heart, and my libido, takes me. Usually it's with a man but occasionally it's with a woman. When it does she's almost always a strong independent woman, like Lily. Not exactly the best type for a long term relationship, but then I'm not really built for long term relationships.”
“Oh,” I said. I sounded a little lost even to myself.
“So, are you still with that hot little package? What was his name? Ashley?”
“Asher, and…no.”
“Oops, sore spot. Sorry. Well
hey,
if you're available Lily has this absolutely adorable nephew…”
“I'm not exactly on the market,” I said quickly.
“Ah, one of those, huh?
My advice is
move
on, sweetie. Don't dwell in the past. Get yourself a new beau, even if he's just a rebound guy.”
“Um, thanks,” I said as I started edging towards the door. I'd better get going. I'm supposed to be meeting someone at…” I glanced down at my watch and gasped.
“Holy shit!
I'm late. I gotta go! It was good to see you again, Nikki.”
“You too, Killian.
And I'll definitely go see Will, take him a gift for the baby or something. Bye.”
I dashed out the door and ran down the plaza to the café where Micah was already seated at a table inside in the air conditioning, waiting for me.
“I was beginning to think you weren't coming,” he said with a grin as I slid into the seat across from him. “Either that or you were still mixed up on that whole a.m. /p.m. thing.”
I laughed, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I was talking to someone and I guess I lost track of time.”
“It's cool.
Your boyfriend?”
“Huh?”
“Were you talking to your boyfriend?”
“Oh. No. I'm not, I mean I'm…I'm single.”
“Ah,” he said simply, but the sparkle in his eye spoke volumes. I realized that was what he had been fishing for to begin with.
“So what did you find out?” I asked.
“Not so fast. Let's order first. I was waiting for you.” He signaled a waitress over and we placed our orders.
“Alright,” he said when she has left. “Here's what I have.” He produced a manila folder from under the table and flipped it open, sliding it across the table to me. The top sheet had the name Rachel Cohen printed in large letters. “You were right, there were no death notices for a Rachel Cohen and there would have been, even if the family couldn't afford a full obit. I did manage to find her maiden name in the marriage records; it was Gill. Both her parents were dead at the time of the wedding so that's a dead end. The announcement was placed by an aunt though, and I have her name and Ira Cohen's parents' names.”
“This is great, Micah!” I exclaimed.
“Hang on, I'm not done yet. Take a look at the next page.”
I did. This page had three names and addresses printed on it: Olivia
Purnell
, Quincy Evans and Fatima
Bahi
. I looked up at him quizzically.
“Those are the names and addresses of the kids Walters talked to from the school after Caleb was arrested. He just got the usual pull quotes from them, you know, `He was a quiet kid, kept to himself', but they may be useful to you if you know the right questions to ask.”
“I didn't even think of that!” I was delighted to have the names. I flipped the page to find one last sheet, this one with three numbers printed on it. “What are these?” I asked.
“My numbers: home, work, and cell. I was hoping you would call me sometime and we could get together, not about the case. Like dinner or a movie or whatever.” I blushed and opened my mouth to speak but he hurried on. “You don't have to give me an answer right now, just think about it. Hang onto my numbers and if you feel like doing something sometime, just call me.”
“'k
,” I mumbled, still blushing.
Our food arrived at that moment, sparing us from what had promised to be a very awkward moment. While we ate we talked about general topics, movies, music, etc., and discovered that we had a lot in common.
“Well, I better get back,” he said when we'd finished eating, with a trace of reluctance if I wasn't mistaken. He insisted to paying for my lunch.
“Got to get back to the grind.”
“Me too,” I said, “And Micah, thanks again for all the information, and for lunch.”
“Hey, you're welcome. It was kind of exciting. Just don't forget that you owe me now. I want first crack at the story when it breaks.”
“If it breaks.”
“It will; reporter's instincts.”
I laughed. “See
ya
, Micah.”
“Bye, Killian. Call me.”
“I will,” I said without thinking.
“Good,” he grinned, “I'm going to hold you to that.” With that he spun around a jogged off down the plaza.
What was I getting myself into?
Chapter 18
