All Lost Things
Book 3 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries
By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026
Chapter 12
“Finnegan Byrnes,” Marco replied.
Wait. What?
"Who?" I was confused.
"Finnegan? You know, that weird kid who wears elf ears sometimes?"
"Uh...no." I couldn’t place him, and you would have thought that would be memorable.
Marco shrugged. "He's a couple of grades behind you."
"Do you know how to get in touch with him?"
"Uh, no," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Why would I know that? I just told you he's weird."
"Caleb is weird too, but that didn't stop you from dating him."
"Caleb isn't weird! He's just..."
"A possible axe-murderer?"
His shoulders slumped. "Yeah. Okay. You've got a point."
I said my goodbyes and headed back to the office. I couldn't remember anyone named Finnegan Byrnes or anyone who wore elf ears to school. I stopped at a red light, and pulled out my phone to search for him on social media, but I found nothing. Either he didn't have any accounts or he didn't use his real name.
As I pulled into the parking lot of the office, I discovered my mentor standing outside, gazing up at the sky.
I locked my car, walked over to him, and peered up in the same general direction he was. “What are we looking at?” I asked after a minute.
“See that hawk up there?”
I searched. “No.”
“Right there, on the edge of the roof, just sitting there.”
“That’s a hawk? He seems kinda small to be a hawk.”
“It is small. It’s a kestrel — very common around here.”
“So why are we standing out here in the heat staring at it?”
Novak smiled. “Because it’s there.”
“Ah.”
“And I needed a break from the office.”
“Oh.”
He turned his attention to me. “Did you find out anything useful?”
“I think so.”
“Great. Let’s go up to the office, and you can tell me all about it. It’s hot out here.”
“So we’re done looking at the bird?”
“We’re done looking at the bird.”
I shrugged and followed him up to his office. Once we were settled in, I told him about my conversation with Marco and how he had given me the name Finnegan Byrnes.
“He should be easy enough to find. There can’t be that many families named Byrnes around here. Just do a search and call each one until you find a Finnegan. That’s about as Irish a name as Killian.”
“Shane is Irish, too, isn’t it?”
“But not Novak,” he pointed out. “How do you feel about a trip to Washington?”
The sudden shift in conversation took me by surprise. “D.C.?” I asked.
“No, state. Yes, Washington, D.C.”
“Why are we going there?”
He steepled his fingers together. “It’s our nation’s capital, a cultural center filled with national treasures like the Smithsonian Institution, art galleries, the National Zoo, et cetera, et cetera.”
“So, it’s a pleasure trip?”
“Oh no, it’s business.”
“But you just said—”
“I was merely pointing out some of the highlights of the city.”
“You are maddening sometimes.”
“I try.”
“Would someone please tell me why we’re going to Washington, D.C.?”
“All you had to do was ask.”
“I— You— Argh!”
“Temper, temper. You must have patience, Grasshopper. It is the most important tool in the P.I. trade.”
I released a monumentally put-upon sigh, and Novak finally took pity on me. “Very well, we’re going to the District of Columbia for one reason and one reason only.”
“And that reason is...?”
“Because that’s where Rachel Cohen is living.”
I was stunned. “You found Rachel Cohen?”
“Yes, or rather Rachel Shannon as she’s known now.”
“Shannon?”
“Her middle name. She was born Rachel Shannon Gill. When she married Ira Cohen, she took the name Rachel Gill Cohen. When she ran, she took her middle name as her last name.”
“How’d you find her?”
Novak pushed back in his chair with a smug expression. “Traced every combination I could think of using all her names. It’s not as easy as it sounds. Do you know how many people I found with various combinations of those names? I came up with well over one hundred and fifty, and that was just a cursory search. I narrowed the list by eliminating anybody not in the tri-state area, because I figured she wouldn’t have gone far. I focused especially on the DC/Baltimore area. People who want to disappear generally head for a nearby city since that’s the easiest place to get lost.
“I got a hit on a Rachel Shannon in DC. I still have some contacts there, so I called a P.I. friend and called in a favor, asked if he could go out and check up on her for me. He didn’t approach her, but she’s in the right age range. I think she’s worth interviewing.”
“You did all that while I was talking to Marco?”
“When you’re good, you’re good.”
“I’m thinking it wasn’t as hard as you make it out to be.”
He chuckled. “I got lucky, kid. It happens sometimes.”
“So we just drive up there and, what, knock on her door?”
“Pretty much.”
“When?”
“I was thinking maybe tomorrow. We’ll spend the night and come back Saturday. You up for it?”
“Yeah, sure, but what about Finnegan?”
“That will be our first order of business when we get back. Now go home and get things cleared with your family.”
“What time do you want me here tomorrow?”
“Just come in at your normal time. Oh, and good job with that Marco kid.”
I grinned. “Thanks.”
When I got home, the house was eerily quiet. Steve’s truck was still gone, so I assumed he hadn’t returned yet. I knew I needed to talk to Adam — and not just about the trip to D.C. — but I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
“Killian?” Adam’s voice echoed from upstairs.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
He appeared at the top of the steps and offered a smile. “Do you think we could talk?”
I sighed in relief. He didn’t seem angry, and he’d even suggested a conversation, saving me the trouble. “Sure.”
He came down and we went into the living room, where I dropped onto the couch.
He joined me. “First off, I need to apologize for last night — and the last few weeks too, I guess.”
I nodded cautiously, unsure how I was supposed to respond.
“I was way out of line,” he continued. “I’m sorry I caused a scene at the restaurant, and I’m sorry I left you behind. You were right on both accounts. I should have been happy for Steve, and I probably shouldn’t have been driving.”
“I, uh, did sort of provoke you in the restaurant,” I admitted.
“Maybe, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior. I’ve been bottling so much inside lately that it all just sort of bubbled over when I had too much to drink. All of it could have been avoided if I’d just talked to Steve.”
“Speaking of Steve, are you guys okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I think so. He came home this morning, and we had a long talk.”
I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. “Was it a good talk?”
He chuckled. “Yes, it was a good talk. We had a lot to discuss, most of which we should have said a long time ago. Some of it was just a matter of misunderstanding or pent-up feelings that we’d been avoiding. Communication is so important, Killian. I hope you can learn that now. It’ll make things easier for you down the road. If you can’t talk to each other, you don’t have much hope.”
“What did you guys decide?”
“About what?”
“The new house and all. Are we moving or staying here?”
“I think we’ll probably have to move. Living in both places would be too difficult. They're just too far apart." He looked around. "I love this house, but as much as I hate to admit it, we've outgrown it. If we move, you and Kane will have your own rooms. More importantly, though, Steve and I want to make this work, so I guess that means moving.” He frowned.
“You don’t seem very happy about that.”
Adam shrugged. “I'm still getting used to the idea. It’s all about compromise.”
“So you’re going to sell this house?”
“No, I’m not ready to let go of the beach house yet. We’re going to rent it out, at least for a while. We’ll probably need the extra income anyway. It would be unrealistic to expect the bed and breakfast to take off right away. And who knows? I’m not wishing the business to fail, but if it does, we might need this place to fall back on.”
“What about your business?”
“As Steve pointed out, my work can be done from anywhere. He doesn’t expect me to give up my job.” He paused and cocked his head to one side. “You’ve really been worrying about all this, haven’t you?”
“I guess so.”
“Well, stop. We’re going to be fine. I’m sorry you and Kane got caught in the middle last night. That wasn’t fair to you guys. I was being very selfish.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay. And again, I’m sorry.”
"So when are we moving?"
"There’s still some renovation that needs to be done — the top floor will have to be converted into an apartment for all of us — so it won’t be right away."
We were quiet for a minute, then I asked, “Are you still mad about my job?”
“I’m not mad.” Adam sighed. “I guess I’m a little scared. I don’t like the idea of you being in a dangerous situation.” I started to argue, but Adam held up a hand. “But...I know how much you love what you’re doing, and technically you’re an adult now, so I just have to deal with it.”
I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. It was nice to know Adam thought of me as an adult. “Thanks.”
He ruffled my hair. “You’re still my son, though. And you still live under my roof...”
I laughed. “I know. I’m glad you’re okay with it, or at least trying to be, because Novak wants to go to D.C. tomorrow to talk to a suspect.”
Adam’s eyes grew wide. “A suspect?”
“Well, a possible suspect. It’s also possible she had nothing to do with the murder. We just need to talk to her.”
“Why do you have to go?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Because it’s my case. I thought you said I was an adult.”
He sighed again. “Yeah. Yeah, you are. It’s just a little harder to let go than I thought. How long will you be gone?”
“Only overnight. We’ll be back on Saturday.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay, but I think I’d like to meet this Novak.”
I gave Adam a skeptical look. “Why? It’s not like he’s going to seduce me or something. He’s straight. And he’s a good guy.”
Adam snorted. “I’m sure he’s perfectly nice. That’s not what I meant. I’d just like to meet him, that’s all. You work for him, you talk about him a lot, and now you’re going out of town with him. I don’t think it’s an unreasonable request. Why don’t you invite him to dinner Sunday night?”
I shrugged. “I guess so. You’d better not embarrass me, though.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “I’ll do my best to conduct myself with dignity and decorum.”
I grinned, but then another thought came to me and my smile quickly faded.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked.
“I just realized we’re going to have to move in with Amalie.”
Adam looked confused. “Who? Oh, Steve’s ghost. I’m pretty skeptical about that.”
“That’s because you haven’t heard her walking around and slamming doors.”
He chuckled. “Don’t you think if you’d given up the afterlife to hang around this plane of existence, you’d have better things to do than slam doors and stomp around?”
“Maybe she has unfinished business.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, for Pete’s sake! Let’s help her finish it then. We can’t have her scaring away our guests.”
I tried to smile at Adam’s joke, but it bothered me that he wasn’t taking the haunting seriously. Then again, I hadn’t taken it very seriously at first either. Then I’d experienced it all firsthand. I was still hoping there was a logical explanation for everything that didn’t involve dead people, but even the memory of those creepy footsteps made the hair on my arms stand up. I had a feeling Adam might change his mind once we were in the house.
Although Novak was a little surprised by Adam’s invitation, he readily agreed to come to dinner. “It’ll be nice to eat someone else's cooking for a change.”
I refused to ride all the way to D.C. in Bessie and, after a little negotiating, we set out with Novak driving my car. The drive went quickly as we chatted about our families and got to know each other better. Novak seemed to be asking most of the questions, but I found I didn’t mind telling him about myself.
When we arrived at our hotel, I was pleased to see it was a mid-priced place. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it wasn’t a dump, either. We checked in, dropped off our suitcases, then set out to look for Rachel Shannon.
The address Novak had found turned out to be a small, rundown apartment building on the outskirts of the city. There was a security door, the kind where you either had to have a code or someone inside had to buzz you in. Novak pushed the button for Rachel’s apartment, but there was no response. We waited a minute, then Novak pushed it again.
Just then, an older Black woman with a small, collapsible shopping cart came out the door. She kept a watchful eye on us as she carefully shut the door behind her.
“Are you here to see Rachel?” she asked in a tremulous voice.
I looked up in surprise, then realized she must have seen what number Novak was pushing. The woman was small and frail, her back rounded with age, and her eyes magnified behind thick lenses. She wore a short, black wig styled in finger waves, a faded maroon dress that hung off her frame like a sack, and black orthopedic shoes. She gripped the shopping cart as if it served as much for keeping her upright as it did for carrying groceries.
“Rachel Shannon?” Novak clarified.
“She’s my neighbor, but she’s not in right now.”
“Do you know when she’ll be home? We really need to talk to her.”
She studied us carefully, a note of suspicion in her eyes. "Well, I don't know. Who are you and why are you looking for her?"
"I’m an old family friend and I haven’t seen her in years. She doesn’t even know we’re in town. I’d really like to surprise her."
Her expression didn't change. “I’ve known Rachel for several years now, and in all that time I don’t believe she’s had a single visitor.”
“We lost touch. Like I said, it’s been years. I was living away, but we’re back in the area now, so the first thing I wanted to do was look up Rachel.”
She still wore a doubtful expression, but she seemed a little more convinced.
“How nice. She’s at work now. She usually gets home around five-thirty, six o’clock and checks in on me. She’s such a nice girl. I got rheumatoid arthritis real bad, and my back ain't what it used to be, so she does my shopping for me when I can’t get out.”
Novak chuckled. “That sounds like Rachel. Do you know where she works?”
She hesitated a moment, but then shrugged. “Up the street at the convenience store on the corner.” She pointed in the direction she was facing. “Not much of a job for a young woman. I keep telling her she’s gonna get shot one of these days, but she won’t listen.”
“Thank you so much for your help,” Novak said. “We’d better get going now if we’re going to catch her.”
She grunted. "If it turns out she don't want visitors, you didn't hear none of this from me," she said as she rolled off down the street in the opposite direction from the store where Rachel worked.
“Good,” Novak mumbled. “At least she won’t be hovering around to hear us tell a different story.”
“What are we going to say to Rachel?” I asked as he started off at a fast clip. I almost had to run to keep up.
“The truth, I think.”
I shrugged. “Works for me.”
We had no trouble locating the convenience store, a shabby place plastered with ads for cigarettes, vapes, and beer. The inside was slightly better. At least it was clean and reasonably well-stocked. Still, the thick bulletproof glass separating the cashier from the customers and the turnstile for transactions certainly lent credibility to the elderly neighbor's concerns.
The woman behind the counter was unmistakably Rachel Cohen. I knew it the moment I saw her. She was petite and slender, bearing a strong resemblance to her son—or more accurately, Caleb took after her. She had the same unruly light brown hair and those deep, sorrowful brown eyes.
She didn’t pay much attention to us at first, most likely assuming we were just customers. Novak made a beeline for the counter.
“How can I help you?” she asked as we approached, her tone flat with boredom.
“Are you Rachel Shannon?” Novak answered.
Curiosity flickered in her eyes, but no caution or fear as of yet. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Formerly Rachel Cohen?”
That caught her attention. Her eyes went wide with fear, darting around the store as if already searching for the nearest way out.
“Mrs. Cohen, it’s important that we speak to you about your husband and son.”
“Who the hell are you?” she hissed.
“We’re private investigators working on behalf of your son.”
She looked confused. “Caleb hired you? To find me?”
“No. Caleb believes you are dead.”
I couldn’t read the look on her face, but it wasn’t what I would have expected from someone who’d just been told her child thought she was dead. I was unsure whether she was so stunned she didn’t know how to react, or she’d already known.
"Then what are you doing here?"
“Mrs. Cohen—”
“Please, don’t call me that. I haven’t been Mrs. Cohen in a very long time and I don’t intend to start again now.”
“Okay, Ms. Shannon, are you aware of the fact that Ira Cohen is dead?”
Her eyes grew wide. “No! I had no idea.”
“Don’t you watch the news?”
“No, I don’t.” She paused. “Why would Ira’s death make the news? He was a mean, abusive, son-of-a—” She stopped and looked around as she seemed to remember where she was. The only other customer in the store was an elderly Asian gentleman who was buying a lottery card from a vending machine. He wasn’t paying any attention to us.
“Ira was murdered.”
Once again, she looked surprised at first, but then a funny little smile played at the corner of her mouth. “I can’t say I’m shocked. I never understood why someone hadn’t killed him ages ago.”
Novak frowned slightly. “The police have arrested Caleb for the murder.” He was watching her face carefully.
For a second I thought she hadn’t heard him, then she said, “Did he do it?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out, ma’am.”
She looked around the store again. “Do you think we could talk about this later, after I get off?”
“At your apartment? We know where it is. We could meet you there.”
“You do?” she asked with some alarm.
“We’re P.I.s, remember? We’re paid to know things.”
“Fine. I get off at six. Come by around seven. I’ll talk to you then.”
“How do I know you’ll be there?”
“I will be.”
“Make sure you are, or we just might have to call the police.”
It was obvious from her expression that she wanted to avoid that at all costs. Novak produced a card and handed it to her.
“That has my cell phone number on it. If something comes up that prevents you from keeping our appointment, make sure you call me.” He turned and left, and I trailed out after him.
“Do you really trust her?” I asked as soon as we were outside.
“Not a bit,” he replied without hesitation. “That’s why we’re going to pull a stakeout.”
“My first stakeout!” I was excited.
“Yeah, be enthusiastic now, because you’ll be bored senseless by the end of it.”
“Where are we going to be? Are we getting the car?”
“We don’t need the car. In the city, that would be more obvious than not. Let’s see what kind of natural cover we have around here.”
We ended up sitting at a small diner across the street that had a window with a great view of the store. Luckily, they weren't exactly busy so we were able to nab the lone table near the window. Novak settled in with his laptop and told me to keep an eye on the store while he did some work.
Several hours later, Novak had consumed an entire pot of coffee, and I’d had more soda than anyone should ever drink in one afternoon. The waiter was not happy with us. I’d almost grown immune to his dirty looks.
I was just about to excuse myself to go to the restroom when Rachel finally emerged from the store. I glanced at my watch. She was early, thank God. It was only four o’clock.
“She’s on the move,” I told Novak.
He looked up at me with amusement as he closed his laptop. “On the move, huh? You really watch too many movies.”
He left enough cash on the table to cover our drinks with a generous tip, and we followed Rachel at a safe distance. She moved quickly, casting nervous glances around her, but didn’t seem to notice us. She headed straight back to her apartment building, unlocked the door, and slipped inside, closing it behind her.
“I think she’s trying to get the jump on us,” Novak mused thoughtfully.
“But you threatened her with the police.”
“If she was gone, with a two hour head start, there wouldn’t be much they could do — especially seeing as how she hasn’t actually done anything wrong. They really wouldn’t be interested in her. I was just hoping to scare her into cooperating.”
“It doesn’t look like it worked.”
“Thank you, Watson.”
"Why do you get to be Sherlock?"
He gave me a look that spoke volumes, then walked over to the call buttons and pushed the one next over from Rachel’s.
“Hello,” came the thin voice of the old woman we had talked to earlier.
“Hello, ma’am,” Novak answered. “We talked earlier. I’m Rachel Shannon's friend. We missed her at work because we decided to run out and buy her a gift, and it seems she got off early. We’d really like to surprise her, so do you think you could buzz us in?”
“I don’t know...”
“I would really appreciate it.”
Her sigh was audible, even over the intercom, but the door buzzed and there was a loud click as the lock disengaged.
“Thank you,” he called out as he caught the door and we slipped in.
The elevator didn’t exactly inspire confidence, so we took the stairs up to Rachel’s floor. Once there, we found her door, and Novak knocked loudly.
After a few seconds, Rachel’s voice came from the other side of the door, “Who’s there?”
“It’s Shane Novak, Ms. Shannon. We spoke earlier. I think you’d better open the door.”
There was a long pause before we heard the sound of a safety chain being slid aside and a deadbolt being turned. The door opened to reveal a very frightened looking Rachel Shannon.
“May we come in?” Novak asked.
She gave a helpless shrug and stepped back to allow us by her. The apartment was small and sparsely furnished. There was a nondescript sofa and two matching chairs, but no pictures on the wall and no knickknacks or personal effects. The place had the cold, impersonal air of a cheap hotel. In fact, there were almost no personal effects to make it feel lived in.
Then I noticed a cardboard box sitting on the floor in front of the sofa with several items tossed in haphazardly. Ms. Shannon had been packing.
I glanced over at Novak and saw that he had noticed the box as well.
“Were you leaving before we had our talk, Rachel?” he asked softly. She shrugged again. “You’ve kept things light so it would be easy to run at a moment’s notice. How many times did you do that before you became complacent and settled in here?”
“Look, I don’t know why you’re interested in me. I haven’t seen Ira or Caleb since Caleb was a toddler. They’re a part of my past. I did what I had to do, and I’ve moved on. It’s behind me.”
“Is it?” I startled both Novak and Rachel with the edge in my voice. I hadn’t yet spoken in her presence, but I found myself furious. “I wouldn’t have thought it would be so easy to forget your own child, the one you abandoned to a life of abuse and misery.”
Rachel looked as if she had been slapped, and Novak looked as if he wanted to slap me. Rachel recovered first.
“It wasn’t like that. You weren’t there. You don’t know what it was like. He beat me almost every day. I knew he would kill me if I didn’t leave. He’d never laid a hand on Caleb. I didn’t think I could support both of us, so I decided it would be better if I left him behind.”
“Better for him or better for you?”
“Enough,” Novak interrupted sharply. “This isn’t why we’re here.”
Rachel suddenly went on the offensive. “Why are you here?”
“The better question is why were you running? What do you have to hide?”
“I wasn’t running.”
“Then why the sudden packing?”
“I...you don’t know what it’s like to live in constant fear for your life. To never know if he’s going to find you and...and...kill you.”
“Nice try, but we told you Ira is dead. You’re not running from him. You’re running from us. What I want to know is why?”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth? Maybe he hired you to find me.”
While they were talking, I walked over to the box. Lying near the top, partly hidden by an old photo of a little boy I assumed to be Caleb, was a newspaper folded to the headline read, “Teenager Accused of Brutal Axe Murder: Father Killed in Shocking Attack.” I bent over and picked it up.
I held up the article. “Maybe you’d like to try again.”
For a moment, I didn’t think Rachel would respond. She seemed frozen in place, her eyes fastened on the piece of newsprint in my hand. Then all at once, she swung into action. She spun around and shoved Novak roughly in the chest with both hands. He stumbled backwards in surprise as she made a dash for the door.
The instant I realized what she was doing, I leaped into action, bounding over the couch and throwing myself in her path. We collided at full speed and went down in a tangle of arms and legs. The impact knocked the breath out of both of us, but desperation is a powerful motivator and she recovered first, scrambling to her feet and charging for the exit again.
Novak was one step ahead of her, however, and he stepped in front of the door, effectively barring her way since he was much larger than she was. “Now is that any way to treat your guests?” he chided lightly. “Why don’t we all have a seat and talk about that article you found interesting enough to keep, and more importantly, why you chose to lie to us about it.”
“It’s none of your damn business,” she half snarled, half sobbed. “Let me go. You can’t hold me here against my will.”
“No, but I can make a citizen’s arrest. If you’re going to be difficult, it may be our only option. Killian, why don’t you call 911 and see if we can get a police officer over here?”
“No!” Her eyes were wide and crazed with fear. “Don’t get the police involved.”
“Then tell us what’s going on, Rachel. What are you so scared of?”
She stood panting for a few seconds, then turned and walked slowly to the couch, where she collapsed with a defeated expression. “I tried to leave Ira several times, but...I kept going back. I couldn’t stand not being with Caleb. The last time I went back, Ira beat me so badly I couldn’t leave the house for a week. He told me that if I left him again, I’d better never come back. He said I would be dead as far as he was concerned, and if he ever saw me again, he would make sure I really was. I didn’t want to lose Caleb altogether. I...I never intended that. I wanted to see him, have visitation rights, maybe even get custody of him eventually.
“I stayed a couple more months before it got to be too much. Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel your one chance to survive is to leave your only child with a monster? I had to get out of there once and for all. My aunt helped me set things up: new ID, new look, clothes, money, everything. It had to be a clean break, so I disappeared. I kept tabs on Caleb, mostly through my aunt. I knew he was doing well in school. I also knew that he believed I was dead. I thought it was best if I didn’t confuse him by suddenly reappearing.”
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “How could you possibly think that it would be better for Caleb if he thought you were dead?”
“It’s better than knowing I abandoned him, isn’t it?” I wasn’t sure, but I said nothing. She took a shaky breath and continued. “When my aunt started noticing the signs of abuse, I became terrified. I felt so helpless. I called Social Services a few times, but nothing ever came of it.”
“So you decided to take matters into your own hands?” Novak asked.
“What do you — Oh! No! I didn’t kill Ira. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t. And I refuse to think that Caleb did it either.”
“Why is that so hard to believe?” Novak argued. “You felt helpless, trapped, and in fear for your life with Ira, and you’re an adult. Imagine being a child in the same situation. Maybe the only way Caleb could see to escape was to kill his father.”
Tears were rolling down her cheeks. “What do you want from me? Why are you here? If you really think I killed Ira, you would have called the police.”
“We don’t know if you killed anyone or not. We're here to try to figure that out. Can you prove that you didn’t kill Ira?”
“How would I do that?”
“Where were you when he was killed?”
“I was—” She stopped and thought for a few seconds. “I guess I was at work.”
“Do you have a time card or anything that could prove that?”
“Yes, at least my boss would.”
“We’ll be checking on that,” Novak warned.
She nodded and wiped at her eyes. “So is that it? Are you done with me now?”
“I think so. It would be a good idea if you stayed put. We may need to get in touch with you again, and, if we do, I want to be able to find you without hunting you down. If we can’t find you, then we will contact the police and tell them you should be considered a suspect.”
She blanched. “I won’t go anywhere.”
“That’s what you said before.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
“I think you should talk to Caleb,” I inserted. “He deserves to know the truth.”
Shaking her head, she asked wearily, “What good could it do now?”
“It could do a world of good,” Novak added softly.
She looked back and forth between us, then tipped her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. “I don’t think I could face him.”
“He could really use someone right now,” I pressed.
“Just go. Please.”
“But Caleb—”
“I’ll think about it, okay? Just leave me alone.”
Novak motioned me to the door and I reluctantly followed him out. I didn’t say anything until we were down on the street again and walking back to the car. “She won’t see him, will she?”
“No. I don’t believe she will.”
“He deserves to know his mother’s alive.”
“I thought you didn’t even like the kid.”
“I don’t. Not really. It’s just that—”
“It’s okay, kiddo. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“But I want to. I don’t know if I even understand it, though.”
“Then forget about it.”
I shook my head. “I wish it was that easy. Do you think I should tell Caleb?”
Novak looked me over. “You'll have to decide that.”
“What would you do?”
He thought for a moment. “I honestly don’t know. I’m not sure knowing would do him much good at this point. She obviously doesn’t want to have a relationship with him. It might make matters even worse, not to mention that a suddenly resurrected mother would be quite a shock.”
“So you don’t think I should tell him?”
He patted my shoulder. “I can’t make that decision for you, Killian. I don’t envy the position you’re in. You have to do what your heart tells you.”
We drove back to the hotel where I continued to mope.
Finally, Novak decided we should get out of the room and do a little sightseeing. I hadn’t been to the city more than a couple of times before, and then only visited the Smithsonian museums. Novak took me to several monuments. The mall was beautiful, sandwiched between the Capitol and the Lincoln Memorial with the Washington Monument in the middle, and practically everything was within walking distance. When the sun set and the lights came on, it was almost magical.
At least it would have been if I could have gotten Rachel Cohen’s haunted face out of my mind.
While I really didn’t like Caleb, I felt sorry for him. His mother had abandoned him and his father had abused him. It was almost enough to excuse his uncooperative and aggressive attitude.
I resolved to give him the benefit of the doubt the next time we talked. I wasn’t sure whether I should tell him about his mother being alive, but maybe I hadn’t been giving him a fair chance.
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