The Truth of Yesterday - 3. Chapter 3

When I woke up the next morning, I was still uncomfortable with the idea of investigating Jake. I'd slept fitfully, perhaps because my conscience wouldn't allow me a peaceful night's rest.

I tumbled out of bed and sleepwalked through my morning routine of shower, dressing, and a quick breakfast.

Arriving at the Knox's house a little early, I parked across the street and a couple of doors past his house, then slumped down behind the wheel of my car to wait for him to leave. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I turned on the car radio, but even a high-energy dance song couldn't keep me awake.

At some point, I must have dozed off, because I was roused suddenly by the sound of a car door slamming. I jerked upright, blinking in the bright sunlight like a startled owl. For a moment I couldn't remember where I was, then I recalled what I was doing.

Knox started his truck with a roar and backed out of his driveway. I waited a few seconds for him to put some distance between us before I pulled out after him.

Although Novak had given me a few lessons in tailing someone, he said it was mostly common sense. You stayed far enough back that the average Joe would never realize you were following him, but not so far that you could easily lose him.

Usually, Knox took the same route every day directly from his house to his office building, which means I could zone out a bit on the drive. This time he surprised me by making an unexpected turn.

In my sleep-deprived state, I almost drove past him. At the last second, I swung widely onto the street behind him, going just a bit too fast. I held my breath, hoping my reckless tactics hadn't attracted his attention, and released a sigh of relief as he continued on at the same speed, seemingly unsuspecting.

At least that woke me up.

I was excited that his change of routine meant something interesting was about to happen, but instead he just turned into a drive-through coffee shop. I drove past but pulled into a nearby parking lot and waited for him to get his order and get back on the road.

From there, he went directly to his office. I decided to check in with my receptionist-spy, so I waited a few minutes and then went inside.

The front office of the seafood company always smelled ever so faintly of fish. The nondescript furnishings and industrial-grade carpet all looked relatively new and clean, but the scent lingered like the worst air freshener ever.

Sharla worked alone at the front desk. She looked up as I entered, and a bright smile lit up her face.

Sharla was young, not much older than I was, and very enthusiastic. She wore her hair natural, but her makeup was anything but. It would be somewhat of an understatement to say she was liberal with her application — though she still had a long way to go if she wanted to catch up with Carmen the Drag Queen. She favored bright colors that popped against her dark skin. She was dressed in a businesslike gray skirt and matching jacket, but she'd added her own flair to the outfit by hiking the skirt up a few inches and not wearing a blouse under the jacket. The edges of her lacy black bra showed just a little. I was surprised they let her get away with that in a professional setting.

"Hey there, Mr. Detective Boy!" Sharla seemed to think of my investigation as a wonderfully fun game, which worked to my advantage most of the time, but occasionally grew a bit grating.

"Shh. It's our secret, remember?" I winked at her, making her giggle.

"So what's up? Is this a rendezvous? Do you have a new assignment for me?" Her eyes grew large and round. "You want to sneak into his office to look around?"

I laughed. "No, nothing like that — at least, not yet. I just thought I'd check in and see if you have any news for me."

"Well, I don't know if it's news or not, but do you want to know about stuff like business trips?"

"Business trips? Yes, that would be very helpful. Is Mr. Knox going out of town?"

"He's going to D.C. next weekend for a conference, but knowing Mr. Knox, he'll mix in a little pleasure too." She giggled again.

"Oh really?" I leaned against the counter. "What do you mean?"

Sharla looked up and down the hall conspiratorially before whispering, "I've heard he isn't always alone on these trips, if you catch my meaning."

For the first time, I began to think Mrs. Knox might perhaps have some basis for her fear.

"What makes you say that? Have you seen anything to suggest he's having an affair?"

She shook her head, which set her oversized hoop earrings to swinging. "No, I've not been around long enough to see anything, really, but I've heard stuff from some of the other girls here in the office. Nothing direct, you know? Just little comments here and there."

"What about this D.C. trip? Do you know where he's staying?"

She held up one long finger capped by a curving nail painted fire-engine red. "Hang on." She began to tap away at her keyboard, her fingers flying. She clicked her mouse a few times then grinned up at me as her printer rattled to life and spit out a sheet of paper. "You should hire me."

She made it sound as if finding something on her own computer was a major accomplishment.

"Maybe we will." I laughed, but it got me thinking that it might be a good idea to hire a secretary or receptionist, since it would free me up a lot.

The office phone rang just then. Before answering it, she handed me a printout confirming a reservation at a hotel in Washington, D.C. for that Friday night through Sunday morning.

"Can I keep this?" I asked as she hung up.

"Sure, but if anybody asks, you didn't get it from me."

"Thanks. What's his schedule like on that Friday? Is he off the whole day or what?"

She hit a few more keys. "He has a late morning meeting scheduled so he'll have to come in at least for that."

"You're the best. You've been a huge help. Now, you remember what to do if anything unusual happens, right?"

She grinned broadly. This was her favorite part.

"Sure do. I send you a text saying he's left." She made a face. "I still wish you'd let me be a little more creative. Can't I say something like, 'The chicken has flown the coop'?"

I laughed again. "You watch too much TV, Sharla. If you really want to say 'the chicken has flown the coop', go ahead. I'll know what you mean."

She clapped excitedly.

I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and slid it across the counter.

Sharla slid it right back at me. "Keep it this time. I'm having too much fun to get paid. I feel like I'm one of Charlie's Angels."

"Except you're cuter than any of them."

She beamed. "And it's about damn time they had a dark-skinned one."

I was leaving my last class of the day later that afternoon when I remembered that one of my professors had recently assigned a book that wasn't available for download, so I made a detour to look for it at the campus bookstore. I could have just checked the library, but it sounded interesting so I figured I'd get my own copy.

I found the book and went to the checkout area, choosing the shorter of the two lines. When I noticed my clerk, I was doubly glad for my selection. He was cute in a slightly awkward sort of way. He was roughly Micah's height but slighter in build, with full, red lips and short, light-brown hair. I couldn't make out what color his eyes were behind his black-framed glasses. I studied them while he waited on the person in front of me, trying to figure out what color they were exactly. I had just decided they were hazel when I realized he was staring back and had said something I'd missed.

"Huh?" I tried not to blush.

"I said, 'Can I help you?'" He seemed to be fighting back a smile as he pushed his glasses up.

I handed him the book and gave in to the blush.

"Sorry, I guess I zoned out for a second there."

He flashed me a big smile. "Happens to me all the time."

As he rang me up, I noticed his gaze kept straying to the rainbow pendant around my throat.

"Nice necklace," he said after giving me my total.

"Thanks. It was a gift." I started to add that it was from my boyfriend, but for some reason the words wouldn't come out.

"Have you heard of Haven?"

"Um, not really." It sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

"It's the queer club here on campus. We meet every Thursday night. Our next meeting is tonight if you're free. You should come."

I felt my blush deepen and wondered why. I wasn't ashamed of being gay. I'd been out for several years and had actually helped Asher start the Rainbow Alliance at our high school.

Maybe I just wasn't used to being so easily identified as gay by a complete stranger, an unintended consequence of Micah's gift that I hadn't considered. Part of being a good PI was being able to blend in and have few identifiable features that might stand out or catch someone's attention. I was already at a bit of disadvantage due to my height, so I'd have to remember to take the necklace off before I did any covert surveillance.

The cashier cleared his throat, and I realized he was still waiting for a response. "Oh, um, I'll think about it. Thanks for the invitation."

He smiled. "Cool. I hope you decide to join us. New folks are always welcome. My name's Noah. I'm the vice-president. The meetings usually start around eight in the student lounge in Wicomico Hall. They're really informal."

"How many people normally attend?"

"It varies. Lately, we've had anywhere from twenty to thirty people showing up."

My awkwardness was fading the longer we talked, and I found myself a little intrigued. With nobody waiting behind me, I decided to ask him more about the group. "So what does Haven do?"

"Well, we sponsor a lot of educational and awareness stuff on campus. We put on events a couple of times a year — during LGBTQ History Month and Transgender Day of Visibility in March and a few other things here and there."

Someone came up behind me, and Noah greeted the customer before turning back to me. "Hey, hang on." He grabbed a piece of scrap paper, scribbled something on it, and handed it to me. "That's my cell phone number. Call me if you're thinking about coming. Sometimes we have to change when or where we're meeting at the last minute. Or, you know, we could just talk." He flashed me a huge smile.

"Uh, thanks." I could feel my face heating up, so I quickly spun around and started walking away.

"Oh, hey," he called. I turned around to find him holding out the book I'd just bought. "You forgot this."

I grinned sheepishly and took it from him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. What's your name, by the way?"

"Killian."

"Cool name. I like it," he said with a smile, then turned to focus on his next customer.

I felt butterflies in my stomach.

"You're with Micah," I told myself firmly as I walked back to my car.

The damn butterflies didn't care.

I was cutting it close getting to Jake's high school before it let out for the day, but I arrived just in time. I parked in a visitors' space at an angle with a good view of the student lot.

While Jake and I were the same age, he'd taken so much time off from school to recover from injuries — both mental and physical — received when his family died, he'd fallen behind and had to be held back a year. He was a senior, which put him one grade ahead of Kane.

I was once again trying to justify following someone who was supposed to be my friend when I spotted his Jeep leaving the lot. Quickly pulling out a few cars behind him, I made sure to keep at least one vehicle between us at all times. Unlike Knox, Jake knew what I drove, so it was even more important than usual to make sure I was discreet.

I tailed Jake to a mall on the far side of town, which struck me as odd. Did people still hang out at the mall? Maybe he was just doing a little shopping. I followed him inside, keeping my distance but making up an excuse as I went, just in case he spotted me.

That was another lesson from Novak: always have a cover story prepared. Unless they're pathological liars, most people have trouble coming up with a convincingly innocuous explanation on the spur of the moment. If Jake did see me, I'd tell him I was looking for a new jacket now that it was starting to get cooler.

I followed him around from store to store for about an hour, somehow managing to avoid being noticed. He didn't seem to be shopping for anything in particular. If anything, he almost seemed to be killing time.

I was just about ready to give up when I noticed a sudden shift. He began to behave in a very suspicious manner, throwing quick glances over his shoulder and generally acting guilty. Although I was able to stay hidden by popping in and out of stores or jumping behind racks of clothes, my spy tactics were drawing attention and making it rather hard to keep a good eye on my quarry. At first, I thought maybe he had sensed me following him, but quickly realized he was up to something.

I ducked behind one of the large potted palms in the middle of the mall and watched him through the fronds as he took one final glance around, then turned quickly down the hall leading to the restrooms.

I cursed under my breath. There was no way I could follow him in there without him seeing me. That would be a dead giveaway — no cover story in the world could justify bumping into your friend in the men's room after trailing him across a shopping mall.

I waited.

Several guys came and went — a dad with a toddler holding his hand, a tired-looking retail worker in a department store polo, a teenage boy glued to his phone. The flow of traffic through that narrow corridor was typical, uneventful. Except Jake was taking a long time. A really long time.

Ten minutes passed.

Then twelve.

My mind started to race with possibilities, none of them good. Was he meeting someone in there? Dealing drugs? Making some kind of under-the-table deal? Engaging in...something else?

I scanned the mall corridor, weighing my options. A janitor’s cart stood nearby, unmanned. A mall cop strolled lazily across the upper level. The air smelled of Auntie Anne’s and the cheap perfume wafting from the nearby kiosk.

I shifted my weight, trying not to look too suspicious.

At thirteen minutes, I decided I had to get closer.

I approached slowly, pretending to check my phone, then veered casually toward the hallway as if heading for the restrooms myself. Just as I reached the corner, the men's room door swung open.

I froze, half-hidden in the hallway's shadow, then quickly slid into the alcove by the vending machines. I watched the door through the reflection in the front of the snack machine.

Jake emerged, glancing over his shoulder once more before stepping out. His eyes swept the corridor — casual, but alert.

I turned in time to catch a glimpse of his face as he passed me. His face was flushed, but not with excitement — more like stress.

Fifteen minutes in the men’s room. Nothing in his hands, no evidence of a purchase or transaction. What the hell had he been doing?

I gave it a thirty-second count before cautiously approaching the bathroom myself. I hesitated at the entrance. What was I expecting to find? A secret door? Someone still inside waiting to do...whatever it was they’d been doing?

Whatever I was expecting, I was destined to be disappointed. The room was empty, save for the canned pop music playing faintly from hidden speakers and the faint buzz of flickering fluorescent lights. One of the stall doors was slightly ajar. I nudged it open with my foot. Nothing.

I checked the other stalls — same deal. Clean enough, no signs of anything shady. But something about the air felt thick, charged. I couldn’t explain it — just a lingering sense that something had happened there. Something not meant to be seen.

I backed out, my mind racing.

I had no proof of anything, but my instincts were screaming. Jake hadn’t just gone to the mall to kill time. He hadn’t browsed aimlessly because he was bored.

He’d been waiting for someone.

And the restroom was where they were meeting.

I hurried out, scanning for any sign of him. But Jake was long gone, already out in the parking lot, maybe even home by now.

Part of me wanted to shake it off, chalk it up to paranoia. But another part — the part that had been trained by Novak and sharpened by hours of following Knox — knew better.

Something was going on.

And now, I was in it deeper than I wanted to admit.

I practically ran outside just in time to see Jake pulling out of the parking lot. I jumped into my car and backed out of my spot, only to get stuck behind an old lady in a vintage Buick doing a thirty-five point turn in slow motion. By the time I was able to squeeze around her, Jake was out of sight.

I glanced at the time and remembered I had to get over to Knox's building soon so I could trail him as well. I debated whether I should just forget about Jake and focus on my official case, but I decided I was too invested. I made a calculated guess — or a wild hail Mary —that he might be heading home.

I was thrilled when my gamble paid off and I spotted his car turning into the neighborhood where he and Judy lived.

I tailed Jake until he turned into his driveway. As I passed by, I hoped and prayed he wouldn't glance up at his rear-view mirror and see me, or, if he did, that he wouldn't recognize my car.

My choice almost caused me to miss Knox — just a few seconds longer and he would have been gone. He was leaving a little early, but I arrived just in time to fall in behind him. Traffic was light, letting us make good time back to his house. I parked and watched him walk up to the side door.

Since he was going to D.C. the following weekend, I would be as well. I'd have to call Mrs. Knox the next day to see what she knew of the business trip, then speak to Novak about making the arrangements. He would have to approve any trips.

I wished I could talk to him about Jake, but I had made that promise to Judy. With a sigh, I started the car and drove home.

"I think you should go," Adam was saying as he washed and rinsed the dinner dishes while I dried and put them away.

We were discussing the LGBTQ club on campus. I'd filled him in on my encounter with Noah at the bookstore and his invitation.

"I won't know anyone there," I said.

One of the hardest parts of starting college had been meeting new people. In high school, I’d known everyone, at least enough to feel like I belonged — especially after I came out. We’d grown up together, shared classrooms, inside jokes, and a deep and abiding hatred for Mrs. Fitzborough. We'd trauma bonded over the deaths of our classmates. Familiarity had made things easier, for better or for worse.

Starting at Pemberton, where I didn’t know a single soul, was like being dropped into cold water. My adolescent shyness and insecurities returned with a vengeance. I felt like I was back at square one, fumbling through introductions and pretending to be more confident than I was.

Knowing Asher was going through the same thing at a college hours away didn’t make it easier. If anything, it made it worse. When I applied to Pemberton, I thought we'd be doing this together. Navigating awkward orientations and late-night dining halls side by side. But all those carefully laid plans went up in smoke the moment he applied to Georgetown behind my back.

That betrayal had been the final crack in something already starting to fracture. And now, instead of the two of us facing the unknown together, I was facing it alone.

Adam handed me a plate, snapping me out of my thoughts. "You'll know that guy Noah," he said.

"I just met him today for five minutes in the bookstore. I hardly think that means I know him."

"You said he seemed nice."

"He was nice."

"Cute?"

"What does that have to do with anything? I'm dating Micah."

"Doesn't mean you're blind. It was just a question, Kill. From your response I take it he was cute though, huh?"

I sighed. "Yes, he definitely was. Why do you think I should go? I mean, what's the point?"

"Well, first off, it never hurts to have more friends. Secondly, if Haven is involved with queer education on campus and in the community, it's a great cause. And thirdly, you probably have something to offer. Some of these kids may be struggling with issues you've already dealt with, like figuring out whether they're gay and coming out."

"If they're going to a queer club in college, I'm pretty sure they already know if they're gay or not."

"Not necessarily. Everyone comes out on their own timeline. A lot of people don’t even start figuring out who they are until they leave home. And some still struggle. Look at me, I didn't come out until I was in my late-thirties. Honestly, I wish something like Haven had existed when I was in college."

"Yeah, but that was a different time."

"Hey, watch it. It wasn't that long ago."

I laughed, but he had me thinking. It would be nice to make some new friends, and I had been interested when Noah was telling me about it. I just needed a little nudging. I glanced at the time and realized that it was early enough that I could still make it if I left soon.

I debated for a few minutes, then excused myself, ran upstairs and searched for the pants I'd been wearing earlier to retrieve the slip of paper Noah had given me from the pocket. I pulled out my phone and dialed. I was just about to hang up when someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Noah? Hi. This is Killian. We met in the bookstore..."

"Oh, hey. You're the cute little blond with the rainbow necklace, right?"

I blushed at the cute-blond remark and almost stuttered when I answered. "Right."

"Are you calling about Haven?"

"Yeah, are you still meeting tonight?"

"Sure are. You thinking about coming?"

"Yeah, if that's okay."

"Of course it's okay! Haven is open to everyone. Do you know where the student lounge is?"

"Not really."

"Then how about if I meet you in front of the main doors at Wicomico Hall and we can walk in together? That way I can introduce you to everybody and it's not so intimidating."

"Okay, if I leave now I should get there by like quarter of 8 at the latest."

"Great. See you then, Killian."

"Sure thing."

I felt the butterflies in my stomach again as I slipped out of the house.