All Things Lost

by Josh Aterovis

  I climbed out of my car, which was still without a name, and walked up to the door. I raised my fist to knock but before I could the door swung open to reveal a little imp of a boy. He had curly light brown hair with blonde highlights, wide green eyes and full, pouty lips. His face was heart shaped and his nose turned up slightly at the end. His looks, though, were overshadowed by his attire. He was wearing a baggy gray t-shirt with the words “Think Big” emblazoned across his chest. That wasn't the kicker though; what really caught my attention was the fact that he was wearing a skirt. Well, maybe not a skirt. To give him the benefit of the doubt it might have been a kilt. It looked suspiciously like something Britney Spears might have worn in her first video.

  “Are you Killian Kendall?” he asked brightly.

  “Yes, Finnegan?” I asked even though I thought it was a safe bet that it was he.

  “In the flesh,” he said with a grin. He held out a hand and I shook it. “Sorry about the kilt,” he said in an off-hand manner. “I was going to change but I got distracted. There was a bug on my bedroom floor.”

  “Ah,” I said. I didn't know what else to say.

  “So you wanted to talk to me about Caleb?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great, let me change and then we can go for a walk.” He disappeared back into the house leaving me standing on the front porch. I didn't have to wait long though before he reappeared in a pair of army surplus camouflage pants and hiking boots. He set off purposefully across the yard and I hurried to catch up.

  “So, what did you want to ask me?”

  “Do you know Caleb?”

  “Yes, I know Caleb.”

  “How well?”

  “About as well as anyone I suppose, maybe better than most.” We plunged into the woods at the rear of his property. It hadn't been cleared but there seemed to be a faint trail that we were following, the kind left by animals.

  “Are you friends?”

  “I guess you could say that. Caleb doesn't really have friends. He stays to himself; he has a lot of walls up to keep people out.”

  “He's been hurt a lot,” I said without thinking.

  Finnegan gave me a funny look but all he said was, “I know.”

  “Did you ever talk about anything personal?”

  “Maybe. If we did it was told to me in confidence and I'm not about to just tell all to the first PI that comes trotting along.”

  “I'm working for Caleb,” I said, stretching the truth just a little. “Don't you want to help him?”

  “I would love to help him. I just don't know how telling his business would help him.”

  “Did he ever talk about his dad?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “How did he feel about him?”

  “He hated him,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Enough to kill him?”

  “I don't know, maybe. I think it's in everyone to kill if they are pushed hard enough.”

  “And was he being pushed hard enough?”

  “Definitely. But he'd never cracked before so I don't know if I believe he really did this time.”

  “So you don't think he did it, just that he was capable of it.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Do you have any reason to think that he didn't do it?”

  He looked over at me again, as if deciding how trustworthy I was. He stopped walking suddenly, so sudden I almost ran into him. We were at the edge of the forest area; it obviously wasn't as large an area as it appeared. He pointed out across the field in front of us.

  It took me a minute to realize what I was looking at; it was from a different angle than I had seen it before.

  “That's the Cohen's barn,” I said in surprise. And next to it on one side was Mrs. Fields' little house and a wall of trees on the other where the Haynes' lived. I looked over at Finnegan. “Why'd you bring me here?” I asked.

  He shrugged.

  “Wait a minute,” I said slowly, as certain things began to dawn on me. “It was you, wasn't it?”

  “What was me?” he asked guardedly.

  “Meeting Caleb in the barn. You two were dating.”

  “I don't know that we were dating,” he said carefully.

  “But you were meeting him for sex in the barn?”

  “Lord, you put it so delicately. We met for more than just sex. I was probably his only friend. We talked a lot, just hung out, sometimes we had sex.”

  “So you're gay too?”

  “I'm bi.”

  “Did you see Caleb on the night his father was killed?”

  His eyes shifted away. “What do you mean?”

  “He ran away from the group home and went somewhere, was it your house?”

  “He won't tell you?”

  “No, and it would be a huge help if we knew where he was. As it is he doesn't have an alibi at all.”

  “If he had an alibi that would clear him?”

  “Probably not completely, but it would help a lot. It might even get him out of juvenile detention.”

  He thought a minute, then nodded. “He was with me.”

  “What time did he get there?”

  He shrugged, “I don't know. I don't pay much attention to time. Early evening I would say. It was still light out. He tapped on my window and scared the crap out of me. He couldn't just go up to the door because my parents didn't know anything about us. He came in and hid out in my room overnight and left the next morning.”

  Finally, I was coming up with some answers. Now if only I could get them to make sense.

  “Were you and Caleb together all night?”

  “Pretty much?”

  “You never left him alone at all?”

  “Maybe for a few minutes at a time. After all, my parents didn't know he was there. I couldn't stay holed up in my room all night, they would get suspicious.”

  “How long were you gone when you were gone?”

  He shrugged. “I'm not sure. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes. Maybe more.”

  “That was a pretty big risk you took; taking him in like that.”

  “I didn't see it like that. Your friend shows up and needs help you do what you need to do to help.”

  “Do you love Caleb?”

  That seemed to catch him by surprise. “What?”

  “I said do you love Caleb?”

  “Love?”

  “Yes, love.”

  “That's, uh, a really strong word. I don't know if I love him or not. I like him, I like being with him, but do I love him? I don't know.”

  “Does he love you?”

  “How would I know?”

  “I think you would know.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I think he's protecting you.”

  “Protecting me how?”

  “He refuses to say who he was meeting in the barn or where he was the night his father was killed, two things that could help him. The question is why is he protecting you?”

  He looked away. “Caleb knows my biggest fear is being outted to my parents.”

  “I got the impression that you were pretty much a free spirit.”

  “Weirdness they can handle. Eccentricity is fine. Homosexuality is a major no-no. I can dye my hair any color in the rainbow, wear anything I want, but God forbid I should love a boy.”

  “Religious?”

  “More like just extremely narrow-minded.”

  He turned and started walking back towards his house.

  “If you don't think Caleb did it do you have any other ideas?” I asked as I followed.

  “Not really. I didn't have much contact with anyone except Caleb. I know that his dad and his dad's girlfriend fought a lot. And I know that those neighbors were kind of weird about Caleb, protective, always giving him stuff. That's all I really know though.”

  “We've talked to all those people. Everything just keeps coming up a dead end.”

  “Something somewhere must just be appearing to be a dead end then. Unless there is someone else that
you don't know about yet.”

  “Like who?”

  “Oh, I didn't actually have anyone in mind; I just meant there's always that possibility.”

  “You know more than you are saying.”

  “And what if I do?”

  “Then it would be best if you told me everything.”

  “Best for who, you?”

  “Best for Caleb.”

  “I'm not really sure you want what's best for Caleb.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “No, what did you mean by that?”

  “It doesn't matter.”

  “It does to me,” I insisted, but I dropped it and change the subject. “Would you be willing to go to the police with this?”

  “What? No!”

  “You have to, Finnegan.”

  “Call me Finn, only my mom calls me by my full name. And why do I have to.”

  “Because you know something that could make a big difference. You could get Caleb out of jail.”

  “And what would it get me? I'd be out to my parents.”

  “Not necessarily. Maybe the police can keep it a secret, you know, like a confidential source. Besides, isn't Caleb's whole life more important that what your parents might think?”

  “That's easy for you to say. You don't live with my parents.”

  “I don't even live with my own parents. My dad kicked me out when he found out I was gay.”

  He looked over at me sharply. “You're gay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh. Then you should know. Especially since you got kicked out.”

  “I'm glad I did actually. My life has been much better since. A really great guy took me in; he's like my dad now. And I got a little brother, too.” We arrived at my car and stopped to continue talking.

  “Wait a minute, you're caller ID said Adam Connelly. You're not Kane Connelly's brother are you?”

  “Yeah, you know Kane?”

  “Yeah, he was in my art class, we sat next to each other. He talks about you all the time.”

  I blushed. “Good I hope,” I mumbled.

  “You'd think you were a god or something to hear him talk.”

  I blushed even more. Time to leave, I thought. I opened my car door and started to climb in. He looked over the car and smiled. “Nice car.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You should name it Shadow.”

  “What is it about everyone trying to name my car? And why Shadow?” I asked, curious despite myself. I liked the sound of it, more so than any other name I'd come up with.

  “Well, it's dark and you are a PI and shadowing people is part of what you do. I dunno. It just seemed like a Shadow to me.”

  I liked it. Before I closed the door, though, I thought one last reminder was in order. “Will you just think about going to the police?” I said.

  He looked down at the ground. “I'll think about it.”

  “You really should. If you care at all about Caleb you will.”

  Chapter 22

  If I thought I had a lot to think about before, now I had even more. I couldn't stand to wait until the next day to tell Novak what I had found out from Finn, so I headed straight for the office. It was closed up tighter than Fort Knox when I arrived. I let myself in with my key and sat down dejectedly at my desk. I didn't want to wait; I wanted to tell him now.

  “So why not find him at home,” I thought suddenly. I'd never been to his house but I knew vaguely where it was. Armed with his address I felt confident I could find it, after all, I was a detective, sort of.

  I locked up and started off for the neighborhood Novak lived in. It was a quiet neighborhood, mostly retirees with maybe a few families thrown in for good measure. I found his street with no problem. I parked on the road in front of his house. It was a tidy, one-story rancher style home with white siding and black shutters, very much like all the other houses on the street. All the shrubbery was trimmed back tightly and the grass was mowed short. Novak's car sat on the blacktop driveway. The front door was open so I rapped on the screen door. I was just about to knock again when he appeared.

  “Killian?” he said in surprise when he saw who it was.

  “Novak, you won't believe what I found out!” I gushed before he was even to the door.

  “I thought you were taking today off,” he said with a frown.

  “I couldn't stand doing nothing so I hunted down Finnegan Byrne. You won't believe it!”

  “Can't this wait till tomorrow?” Was it my imagination or did Novak seem a little perturbed? I was beginning to lose a little of my enthusiasm.

  “Well, I mean, I guess it can,” I said, trying not to sound like a pouting pre-schooler.

  “That would be better,” he said quickly. “We'll talk first thing in the morning.”

  “Oh, Shane, do you think the chicken is done?” a female voice called from behind him.

  Novak flushed and seemed unsure of what to do for several moments. I felt my mouth drop open in surprise. It hadn't even occurred to me that he might have company, let alone female company. No wonder he was so eager to see me off. I felt like an idiot.

  “I'm sorry,” I started but he cut me off.

  “It's ok, kid. Don't worry about it. I'll just see you in the morning.”

  “Ok,” I nodded and turned to leave, but just as I did, Novak's guest came into view over his shoulder and I stopped cold.

  “Judy!” I gasped.

  “Hello Killian,” she said calmly, as if finding me at the door was nothing out of the ordinary. I looked back and forth between Novak, who seemed very uncomfortable, and Judy, who was as unflappable as always.

  “I'd better go,” I mumbled backing away, “I'll talk to you in the morning. Sorry to have bothered you at home.”

  I ran back to the car, jumped in and drove away with my head spinning. Novak and Judy? Who would have thought? I sure hadn't. But then I remembered Novak's interest in her that day she came to the office and how they had talked amongst themselves at my birthday party. They were alike in many ways, so maybe it wasn't such a stretch after all. Then again, there must have been at least 20 years difference in their ages, but maybe that didn't matter as much at their age. And maybe I was just jumping to conclusions. Just because Judy was having dinner at Novak's house…and called him Shane…and appeared to be cooking in his kitchen…

  Novak was dating Judy.

  For some reason that thought set me off into a fit of giggles that was so bad I almost had to pull off on the side of the road.

  When I got home, I found a note taped to the front door.

  “Killian,” it read, “We've all driven out to the house. Another crew quit. Talk to you later. Adam.”

  So that meant I was home alone until they came home. I turned on the TV and flipped through the channels but couldn't find anything to watch so I ended up online. I chatted with my internet friends until I heard a car pull up outside. I was waiting for them when they came inside. To my surprise everyone looked fairly cheerful.

  “Wow, I didn't expect everyone to look so happy,” I said.

  “What were you expecting?” Kane asked, “A funeral procession?”

  “I thought another crew quit.”

  “They did,” Steve said with a grin.

  “The new painting crew quit,” Adam explained, “But since they were pretty much finished anyway we've decided to finish the painting ourselves. It's only the kitchen and the pantry downstairs and a couple bedrooms upstairs, not a big deal.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked doubtfully. “I mean, we're not exactly professional painters.”

  “How professional do you have to be to roll paint on a wall?” Steve said. “The crew agreed to let us borrow the equipment, drop cloths, rollers, ladders, and so on. It'll be a snap.”

  “Famous last words,” I mumbled under my breath, then louder, “So when do we start?”

  “Well, I've got a project I have to finish up first,” Adam said.

  �
�And I have a date tomorrow night,” Kane added with a smirk.

  “I guess that means we'll start this weekend,” Steve said with a shrug.

  “I'll be there,” I volunteered.

  “Great! I really appreciate it, Killian.”

  “No problem, just tell Amalie to leave me alone and we'll be fine.”

  “No sign of her tonight, huh, Dad?” Kane said teasingly.

  “There certainly weren't any cold spots,” Adam joked, “That house must be at least ninety degrees.”

  “Central air is supposed to be installed next week. We can wait to start painting then if you want,” Steve offered.

  “No, we need the ventilation the windows provide,” Adam pointed out, “We'll just try to work mostly at night.”

  Final plans were made and we spent the rest of the night talking about my case, Kane's new girlfriend, and my discovery that Novak and Judy were dating. Turns out Adam and Steve already knew and had just assumed I'd known as well. I went to bed thinking I would be lying awake for hours, but despite all the exciting and bizarre things I'd learned that day, I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  The next morning I couldn't wait to see Novak, both to tell him about the case and rag him about Judy. I actually woke up early and decided to just get ready and be at the office waiting when he arrived.

  My plan didn't work, however, since it turned out Novak still beat me there.

  “So what is this news that's so big it couldn't wait until today?” he asked me as soon as I opened the door. He was sitting at my desk with his hands linked behind his head and his feet on top.

  “Make yourself at home,” I said with a grin.

  “It is my office,” he said dryly.

  “True. My news can wait a bit longer; first tell me how your date went last night.”

  “Excuse me?” He swung his feet down and the chair snapped upright with a metallic twang.

  “You are dating Judy Davis, right?”

  “You make it sound like we're in high school. We've seen each other socially a few times if that's what you mean.”

  “Why didn't you tell me sooner?”

  “I didn't know my personal life was any of your business.” He stood up and walked into his office, leaving the door open, an invitation to follow him.