All Lost Things

Book 3 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries

By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026

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Chapter 7

I decided to stop by Asher's house on my way home and let him know that Novak and I were taking on the case. As I pulled into the Davises' driveway, I was surprised to see a "For Sale" sign in the front yard of the house next door, my former home. I wondered why Mom hadn't mentioned that she was putting it on the market. Maybe she thought it would upset me, but I didn't exactly have good memories of the place. It had the neglected look of a house that had sat vacant for too long. I hoped the next occupants would be happier than my family had been.

Marcus answered the door at the Davises' and seemed surprised to see me. "Hey, Killian. It's been a while since you've been around. What's up?"

He was obviously fishing for an explanation, but he wasn't getting one from me. If Asher wanted his brother to know what was going on, he could speak for himself. "Hey. Yeah, it has been a while. Is Asher around?"

"He's upstairs in his room." He stuck his head inside and yelled for Asher, then turned back to me. "Come on in."

I stepped inside as my ex came thundering down the stairs. He, too, seemed surprised to see me. "Killian! What's going on?"

"I need to talk to you about some things."

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he glanced in Marcus's direction. "Oh. Cool. Uh, we can talk outside."

Marcus looked as if he was dying to ask what was going on, but he reined in his curiosity and watched us go back out the door. I had a feeling Asher would be getting the third degree as soon as I left.

The door barely clicked shut behind us before Asher pounced. "What's going on? Did you talk to your boss yet? What did he say?"

We fell into step, walking down the same street we'd grown up on just like we'd done hundreds of times in the past. "Yes, I talked to Novak. At first, he thought I should stay out of it."

"But...but—"

"I said 'at first'. We discussed what had happened so far, and he agreed to call the police and see if he could find out anything more. After talking to the sergeant in charge of the investigation, Novak agreed to take the case."

Asher's face lit up. "Really?"

"Yes, but only on the condition that we cooperate with the police."

He frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means we're not going to sneak around behind their backs, and we tell them everything we find out — good or bad."

"I guess that's fair." He was still frowning. He clearly didn't like the provision but understood there was no avoiding it.

"The good news is that I got to talk to Caleb this afternoon."

Asher stopped walking. "Already? I haven't even been able to see him."

"One of the perks of working with the police."

"They got you in?"

"Yeah."

"Why would they help you?"

"They were hoping I could get more out of Caleb than they have. He's not talking to anyone, not even his court appointed attorney."

Asher's frown deepened. "So you're, like, trying to prove he's guilty?"

"No, and neither are the police. They're just trying to find the truth."

"That sounds like a load of bullshit."

I shrugged. "You know me better than that."

Asher had the grace to look embarrassed. "You maybe, but I don't trust cops," he backpedaled. "So, uh, how is he?"

"Caleb? Honestly? Pretty confrontational."

"What do you mean?"

"I was there to offer him help, and let's just say he didn't act like he really wanted it."

We started walking again as Asher mulled that over.

"What did he say?"

"Not much. I found out the first name of his dad's girlfriend, and that was about it. He wouldn't even tell me whose house he stayed at the night his father was killed."

"What do you mean?"

I looked over at Asher. "He stayed at some friend's house after he ran away from the group home. You didn't know that?"

A troubled expression on his face, Asher shook his head.

"He won't tell anyone who it was, even though it would provide him with an alibi. He just keeps saying he doesn't want to get his friend involved. Do you have any idea where he could have gone?"

He bit his lip and shook his head. He seemed to be deep in thought, so I kept quiet for a few seconds. When he did finally speak, his voice was so soft I had to lean towards him to hear. "Why didn't he come to me?"

I realized his feelings were hurt and stifled a sigh. "I don't know, Asher, but think about it. Would you really have wanted to harbor a fugitive?"

"Maybe that's it. Maybe he didn't want to get me in trouble."

"Yeah, that's probably it." I rolled my eyes. "You don't have any idea who he could have stayed with? Did he ever mention any other friends?"

"No, not really. In fact, he specifically told me he didn't have anyone else to talk to about his dad's abuse."

"Obviously there was at least one other person." Asher looked so hurt, I wished I had kept my mouth shut. Then again, sometimes the truth hurts. "Maybe he was an old friend Caleb didn't talk to much anymore."

"But he could still just show up at this guy's house and stay there overnight?"

"I don't know, Ash. There's a lot we don't know yet. It would help if he'd talk to me. If you do get in to see him, can you tell him he needs to cooperate?"

"Sure. Whatever."

I could tell Asher was too upset to continue discussing the case. I decided it would be best to simply leave him alone. "Hey, I need to get home. Adam will be wondering where I am. Are you going to be okay?"

He gave me an annoyed look. "I'm fine. I'm just going to keep walking for a while. See you."

"I'll talk to you later." I started back towards my car while Asher continued on alone. I turned around once to check on him. He was still walking away, shoulders slumped and head down. I sighed, knowing things would probably get worse before they got better.

"Hey, there you are," Adam said from the kitchen door as I walked in. "I was wondering what was taking you so long."

I looked at my watch. "I'm only half an hour later than usual."

He gave me a pointed look. "A lot can happen in thirty minutes."

I was tired. It had been an exhausting day. "You worry too much. I stopped by Asher's house on the way home."

Adam's eyebrows rose. "Asher, huh? First he showed up here last week, and now you're stopping by his house. Are you guys getting back together?"

"No. He's dating someone else."

"That's what I thought. So what's going on?"

"You know that ax murder that's been all over the news?"

Adam leaned against the doorframe and looked at me suspiciously. "Uh huh."

"Well, the guy the police arrested for the killing is Asher's new boyfriend."

His mouth fell open. "You're kidding!"

"Nope. And actually, Kane and I know him too — from school."

Adam straightened up. "Where is this leading?"

"Asher doesn't believe he's guilty."

"Of course not."

"Since I work for Novak, he asked me to look into the murder."

"He what?"

"He asked me—"

"You said no, right?"

"Well..."

"Killian!"

"I mean, at first I said no. I didn't want to get involved, but Asher was so upset I agreed to talk to Novak. I figured the boss would say no and take the pressure off of me."

"And did he?"

"Initially, but then he agreed to call the police—"

"'Agreed' implies you talked him into it."

"I sort of did."

"I thought you didn't want to get involved."

"Okay, see, the more I thought about it, the more I felt drawn to look into things."

"You felt drawn?"

"Yes."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"You've never felt you were supposed to do something, even though you didn't really know why?"

"I can honestly say that I've never felt I had to get involved in a murder investigation."

"What about Seth?" I shot back. Adam froze. "We both felt we had to be involved then."

"That was completely different. He was my son and your friend."

"Caleb is Asher's friend."

"The police weren't interested in finding Seth's killer."

"The police may have arrested an innocent boy," I countered.

"They must have arrested him for a reason."

"Mainly because they don't have any other suspects. There's no real evidence tying him to the murder."

That caused Adam a moment's hesitation. "Then why do they think he did it?"

"They say he has a motive. His dad abused him, beat him up."

"Is that what this is about? Your father?"

"No. My father has nothing to do with it. I just... I feel I have to do this."

"You said your job with Mr. Novak was boring, that you wouldn't be in danger."

"Most of it is boring. And who says I'm in danger?"

"You're looking for someone who chopped a man up with an ax."

That sounded too much like what Novak had said. I was a little irritated that they didn't think I could take care of myself. "If it was Caleb, he's safely behind bars. If it wasn't, don't you think he deserves to have someone on his side, looking for the truth?"

"The last time I checked, that was what the police are for."

"Exactly. And the police asked for my help. They asked me to talk to Caleb."

Adam sputtered, "That's insane. I don't want you talking to a killer."

"What happened to 'innocent until proven guilty?'" I protested. "Besides, it's too late. I've already talked to him."

"What?"

"I talked to Caleb this afternoon. It was in the detention center, and the police and Novak were watching the whole time. It was perfectly safe. This is my job, Adam. More importantly, I'm eighteen. You can't exactly tell me what I can and can't do like I'm a little kid."

Adam pressed his lips together tightly and glared at me.

"Um, hey, guys," Steve said into the sudden silence that fell between Adam and me.

I jumped and turned towards him. I hadn't even seen him walk into the hall. "Maybe you should take a break, cool down, and continue this later."

"Maybe you should stay out of this," Adam snapped.

I blinked. That was completely out of character for Adam. Steve looked as shocked as I felt. I found my tongue first. "No, maybe Steve is right. I think we are both a little too heated to talk about this calmly right now. I'm going up to my room."

I went upstairs and shut my door. Thankfully, Kane wasn't there. I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone at that moment.

About an hour later, I was lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling when a soft tap came at the door. I ignored it, but the door opened and Steve stuck his head in.

"Hey, can we talk for a second?"

I grunted, which Steve took as permission to come in. He was carrying a plate of food, which he placed on my desk before sitting on the edge of my bed.

"I brought you some dinner. You okay?"

"I'm fine." My eyes never left the ceiling.

Despite the fact that I had lived with Steve almost as long as Adam, we'd never developed the deep bond that Adam and I shared. Still, I respected his opinions and valued his advice. I just wasn't sure I was in the mood for them right then.

"So, that was kind of rough, huh?" When I didn't answer, he added, "Do you, uh, think maybe you were a little hard on him?"

"Great. Now you're up here to lay a guilt trip on me."

"I'm not trying to lay any guilt trips; I'm just saying this isn't easy for Adam."

"What isn't easy?"

"You know he worries when any of us is five minutes late, let alone half an hour. You could have at least called or texted. Plus, he's never been particularly comfortable with you working for a private eye, and then you come home and announce you're investigating a violent murder. You don't see how that would upset him?"

"It doesn't mean he can jump down my throat."

"From where I was standing, I didn't see any throat jumping. He was just concerned, as any parent would be. I can understand you chafing at Adam's attempt to protect you, but it seemed like you overreacted a little. Is there something else going on?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

Part of me wanted to tell him about the dreams, but I didn't want him to think I was crazy. I shrugged and gave him the only explanation I thought would be acceptable. "I don't appreciate Adam telling me what to do."

"Hey, cut him some slack. He's done a lot for you, right? You know he loves you."

I grudgingly nodded. "Besides, he's got a lot going on right now, and this is the first time he's had to deal with having a kid transition to adulthood. He's afraid of losing you."

I frowned and sat up. "You mean if something happens to me during the investigation?"

"That, too, but also losing you in general."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Killian, think about it. For all intents and purposes, Adam has been your father for the last two years. He loves you like you were his own flesh and blood. You and Kane are his world, especially since he lost Seth. Now you're growing up, graduating high school, getting a job, going to college. He's afraid you're not going to need him anymore — that you're going to move out of the house and out of his life."

"That's ridiculous. I'm only going to college at Pemberton. I'm still going to be living at home. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're missing the point."

"Even if I were going away to college, I love Adam. He's never going to lose me. He's been more of a dad to me than my real father ever was."

"Maybe he needs to hear that." Steve reached over and ruffled my hair, then stood up. "Think about it for a while, and maybe try to talk to Adam when you feel up to it. Okay?"

I nodded and Steve let himself out. I got up and mentally replayed my conversation with Steve while I ate the dinner he'd brought me. Afterwards, I still didn't feel like getting into it with Adam again, so I decided to write down my thoughts about my interview with Caleb. There wasn't much, but I felt better having organized my impressions. I spent the rest of the evening watching videos until Kane came upstairs to go to bed.

When I arrived at work the next morning, Novak called me into his office first thing. I took my usual seat as he leaned back in his chair and looked me over.

"You did a good job yesterday."

"But I didn't learn anything new."

"Considering we pretty much threw you to the wolves, I'd say you learned a lot."

"Like what?"

"First, why don't you tell me your reactions?"

I pulled out my notebook and tossed it across his desk. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Those are my notes from the interview and my thoughts as of last night."

Novak nodded approvingly as he picked up the notebook and scanned my scribbled observations. "Not bad for a beginner." He pushed the tablet back to me.

"So, what did I miss?"

"It's not so much what you missed as what you're taking for granted. Sometimes you have to look between the lines. You say Caleb won't give us his friend's name, but that in itself tells us something." I stared at him blankly. "Come on. Think, Killian."

"I guess if he's trying to protect this friend, he must care about him."

"Exactly. This isn't just some casual acquaintance. It's someone he is willing to stay in jail for. This person means a lot to him. I know you probably don't want to consider the possibility, but any chance it's your ex?"

"Asher? Actually, I did consider that, but I really don't think it was him. When he first called me, he was in a panic because he didn't know where Caleb was and hadn't heard from him since before he ran away. The fear in Asher's voice was genuine. Then, last night, I stopped by his house and told him we were looking into things. He was pretty upset that Caleb went to someone else's house. He didn't seem to have any idea who it could be."

Novak rubbed his chin while he thought. "There is another alternative."

"What's that?"

"Maybe this mysterious friend doesn't exist. Maybe he can't give us a name because he wasn't with anyone. It could just be the first alibi that came to his mind, and now he has to stick with the lie."

I nodded. "That would make sense. When I was talking to him, he said something to that effect."

"Right. Though if he is trying to protect someone, his reaction would make sense as well. We can't rule out either possibility at this point. What else did you learn?"

"I got the girlfriend's first name. Not that it helps much."

"Granted, a last name would have been better, but a first name might be all that's needed to jog someone's memory. It gives us more than we had before. Anything else?"

"Not really."

"We know Caleb really hated his father, possibly enough to kill him."

"We knew that before."

"It's one thing to have someone else tell you Caleb hated his father, another thing altogether to hear it for yourself directly from his mouth. At any rate, it was a good start; you handled yourself very well."

I tried not to grin at his praise. Any thought of smiling vanished with his next words.

"You'll have plenty of time to think about all of this, because I have to go out of town this afternoon and I probably won't be back until Monday."

"What?"

"I know. The timing is lousy, but I can't help it. I do have paying cases, you know."

I sputtered, "But..."

"But what?"

"But that's three days plus the weekend."

Novak gave me a sardonic smile. "Very good. I'll make a detective out of you yet."

I wasn't amused. "That's too long to just do nothing! The trail will get cold!"

His eyebrows shot up and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "The trail?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Killian, settle down. Caleb didn't seem all that concerned with getting out of jail. Nothing will change between now and Monday."

"What if Caleb is innocent? Then every day we wait is another day the real killer has to cover his tracks."

"Trail, tracks? Are we private investigators or nature guides?"

"Novak!"

"Okay, okay. I can't change my plans. I'm still going to have to leave town, but if you really want, you can do a little work on the case while I'm gone."

"Thank you."

"Hang on. What do you have in mind?"

I drew a blank. I really had no idea where to go from here. I'd been counting on Novak to help with that.

"What? All that righteous indignation, and you don't even have a plan?"

"Well, I'd like to look at the house. I don't know why. I guess just to get a feel for where the murder took place." He nodded approvingly, so I took that as a good sign. "And while I'm there, I can talk to the neighbors."

He grinned, and I felt like a student gaining the favor of his favorite teacher, which I suppose in a way I was.

"That's just what I would have done. Why don't we run out there now?"

"What about your case? When do you have to leave town?"

"Not until this afternoon. I should probably be getting things ready, but if it will make you feel better about me leaving, then I can spare the time."

"Cool."

We drove over in Bessie, who, despite various clunks, bangs, and defeated sighs at every stop, was somehow still on the road. I did think I heard an occasional death rattle, and was convinced she would cut off and just refuse to start again. Novak, on the other hand, seemed much more confident in her abilities. Surprisingly, we arrived at the Cohen property without the car exploding or falling apart. I climbed out gratefully and took a look around.

What was left of the house sat on a patch of scraggly, weed-choked lawn with a lone scorched tree off to one side. An old barn sat back well away from the charred rubble. On one side of the yard, a row of Leyland cypresses separated the Cohens' lot from a modest rancher. On the other side was a narrow field, and beyond that, an old, neglected farmhouse. There was nothing across the road except acre upon acre of flat farmland.

The centerpiece of the Cohens' yard was a pile of blackened timbers. I could make out the shape of the foundation, and a portion of one wall remained standing. Clearly, it had once been a house, but it also had a sad, otherworldly feel to it. It was like the pyre of some huge legendary beast. The smoky smell of burnt wood and soggy ash still hung heavy in the air, even though the firemen had extinguished the flames days ago.

The odor yanked me back to the night Jake and I had nearly died in that fire, sending an involuntary shudder through me.

Novak eyed me carefully. "You okay?"

"Yeah." I tried to sound nonchalant, but it was an effort. "I was caught in a house fire once. This brings back a few bad memories, but I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. What are we looking for?"

"I don't know that we're looking for anything, really. We're not professionals in either fires or forensics, so safety issues aside, we're not going to bother with the house itself at all. Just get a feel for the place, walk around, then we'll try talking to the neighbors."

"Okay," I agreed and began circling the house. Little memories kept stirring in my brain, images like ghosts from my past, roused by the scent of the recent blaze.

Jake's face illuminated by the blaze.

Heat so intense it felt like it would split my skin.

The deafening roar of the flames, drowning out everything but the fear.

The unshakable certainty that we were going to die.

I shook my head and tried to focus on the task at hand.

I went once around the house. I was definitely getting some unpleasant vibes from the place, but whether that was simply because I knew what had happened there or something more, I wasn't sure. Other memories flooded into my mind, this time from the strange dreams — the blood, the fire, the hatred. What did it all mean?

I approached the barn and peeked in through the door, which was hanging crookedly ajar on its rusted hinges. Unsure how much I trusted the ramshackle structure, I decided not to go in. I slowly circled the building, peering in each window and door. I didn't see anything except the usual farm debris — an old tractor, moldy hay bales, and the like. After my loop around the barn, I rejoined Novak by the car.

"Finished looking things over?" he asked.

I nodded. "Not much to see, really."

"What were you expecting to find? A signed confession from the killer?"

Feeling a little silly, I shrugged. "No, although that would have been nice. I don't know what I was expecting. I don't even know if I have a feel for the place. I just feel sad and a little overwhelmed."

He patted me on the shoulder. "It's okay. Murder scenes still leave me a bit unsettled, too."

"It's not that.... Well, I don't know. Maybe it is."

"Don't let it get to you, kiddo. How about we try to talk to the neighbors?" I nodded. "Which one do you want to begin with?"

I pulled out my notebook and referred to my notes. "Mrs. Fields?"

"Works for me." Novak started in that direction.

On closer inspection, the farmhouse was not just neglected, but leaning toward decrepit. It was badly in need of a paint job, and several panes of glass had been replaced with cardboard and duct tape.

We stepped up onto the sagging side porch, knocked loudly on the door, and waited. When no one answered, we knocked again. Still no one came to the door, so we gave up and headed back across the field.

I looked over my shoulder once and thought I saw a curtain twitch, but it could have just been the wind blowing through a crack in windows that were far from airtight.

In order to reach the other house, we had to go out onto the road to get around the row of cypresses. In stark contrast to the place we had just left, the rancher and its yard were well kept. Carefully tended shrubbery grew along the foundation, and a floral wreath hanging on the front door bade us a merry welcome.

This time, our knock was answered quickly. A dark-haired woman peered out at us suspiciously. I guessed she was in her mid to late thirties, but it was hard to tell for sure. Her hair was cut off bluntly just above her shoulders in no particular style, and her brown eyes were guarded and wary. She was slightly overweight but tried to camouflage that fact with loose, ill-fitting clothing that only managed to make her look frumpy.

"Can I help you?" she asked cordially, but with a note of distrust, as if she suspected we were proselytizers about to try our best to save her damned soul from eternal hell.

"Hi. My name is Shane Novak." He flashed a friendly smile. "I'm a private investigator, and this is my assistant, Killian Kendall. Could we have a few moments of your time?"

Her eyes widened at the mention of a private investigator. For a moment, I thought she would slam the door in our faces, but she surprised me by stepping out onto the porch instead. "I'm Paige Haynes. Is this about...what happened next door?"

That struck me as a very mild way to refer to a violent murder and a fire tha burned your neighbor's house to the ground, but who was I to judge?

"Yes, it is. We're cooperating with the police, but I have no official standing so you don't have to answer my questions if you don't want to."

"That's okay. Who are you working for, if you don't mind my asking?"

"We're not really working for anyone. We're here on behalf of the young man who's been accused."

"Caleb?"

"Yes."

"Is he okay? I've been worried about him."

"Killian spoke to him yesterday, so I'll let him answer that."

I was surprised at suddenly being handed the microphone, so to speak. "I...he...uh...he seemed okay. He said you helped him out when you could."

"He did?" She pursed her lips for a second. I thought she would burst into tears, but after blinking rapidly for a few seconds, she went on. "I did the best I could. It wasn't easy for him."

"You knew he was being abused?" Novak asked.

She looked away. "Everyone knew."

"Why didn't you report it?"

"I did. Twice. Nothing ever came of it. After a while, you just get to feeling there's no point in it anymore. Like I said, I did whatever I could."

"Did you see or hear anything the night of the murder?"

"Not until the fire was pretty high. By then, the fire trucks were almost here. Mrs. Fields called them, I think. She had a bout with her heart right after that, probably caused by all the excitement. I'm not sure if she's home from the hospital yet."

"So you didn't notice anything?" he pressed.

"No. You can see that our view of their yard is pretty well obstructed by the trees there. We put them in as a windbreak, and now they've all grown together."

"You didn't see anyone coming or going?"

"I don't pay much attention, really. We don't get that much traffic out here, but it's not like I run to the window every time I hear a car."

"Of course. What kind of neighbors were the Cohens?"

She frowned. "We didn't really have any problems, per se..."

"What do you mean?"

"Ira kept to himself mostly. He wasn't very friendly. When we first moved in, we tried to be neighborly, but he wasn't exactly receptive."

"Was he rude?"

"You could say that."

"Is it fair to say that you didn't like him very much?"

"From what little exposure I had to the man, there wasn't much to like."

"What about Caleb?"

She bit her lip. "Caleb was a different story. Such a sweet kid. When we first moved in, he'd sometimes come over here to get away from his father. That stopped after a while, though, when Ira figured out to look for him here. Anytime he couldn't find Caleb, he'd come pounding on our door."

"Would you know someone named Nadine?"

Her face turned sour. "You could say that. She was...well, I guess you would call her Ira's girlfriend."

"Do you know her last name?"

"Not off the top of my head. I only met her a time or two."

"Any idea where we could find her?"

"You know, I think she works at a hair salon in town. It has some corny name — a bad pun or something."

"That describes most of the salons around here. Do you think you could remember the name?"

"Every time I saw her, she gave me a business card and told me to come down and they'd fix me right up. She thought she was being subtle, but I just found it insulting. I usually threw them right in the trash can but let me see if I kept one of them. I'll be right back."

She disappeared into the house and returned a few minutes later with a business card in her hand. "The name is To Dye For. I don't know how I could forget a name like that. And her last name is Tingle. You can keep the card." She handed it to Novak, who tucked it into his shirt pocket.

"Thank you, Mrs. Haynes. You've been very helpful. May we contact you again if we have any more questions?"

"I...suppose. Anything to help Caleb."

"Thank you. And here's my card if you happen to think of anything else that might be useful." He handed her one of his cards, and she studied it closely.

We were walking away when Novak stopped suddenly and turned around. "One more question, ma'am."

"Yes?"

"Do you think Caleb did it?"

"Do I think Caleb...killed Ira?" She seemed shocked that Novak would ask her that.

"Yes."

She thought for a minute. "I don't know. I honestly don't. I do know I wouldn't blame him if he did." She turned and walked into the house, shutting the door behind her.

We checked at Mrs. Fields' again before we left, but there was still no answer. Novak stuck another one of his cards in the doorjamb, and we made our exit amid Bessie's noisy protests.

"She thinks the kid did it," Novak commented, interrupting my dark thoughts on the chances of our getting back to the office alive.

"Mrs. Haynes?" I asked after my brain caught up.

"Yeah, and so far we've not heard anything that would make me think otherwise. How are you going to feel if it turns out he did do it?"

"It doesn't really matter much to me either way. I don't even particularly like Caleb."

"What about your friend Asher?"

I sighed. "He'd be crushed."

"Well, just because we don't have any evidence to suggest he didn't kill his father, we don't have any real evidence to suggest he did, either. We'll keep looking."

"Yeah, next week." I sounded bitter, even to myself.

He looked over at me with a crooked smile. "For someone who doesn't care whether the kid did it or not, you sure are intent on the investigation."

I shrugged. "Insatiable curiosity?"

He laughed. "I was hoping this trip would satisfy your curiosity until I got back."

"No such luck."

He grew serious. "Look, Killian, I don't want you going off on your own while I'm gone. Wait until I get back, understand?"

"I can't even talk to people?"

"What people?"

"Nadine Tingle? And I can keep trying Mrs. Fields, too."

"I suppose a little old lady is harmless enough. You can keep trying her if you want." He pulled out the business card Paige Haynes had given him and flipped it over in his fingers a few times. "As for Ms. Tingle, we're going right by her salon on our way back. Need a trim?"

I shook my hair about. "It is getting a little shaggy, don't you think?"

"I wasn't going to say anything, but now that you mention it..."

A few minutes later, we pulled up to the curb in front of To Dye For. It was a private home that someone had converted into a beauty parlor, the type found in every small town in America. A discreet sign in the front yard bore the name of the business, as well as a silhouette of a blow dryer and scissors, and in smaller letters at the bottom, "Walk-ins welcome."

We walked in, per the sign, and six heads swiveled to stare at us. Two of them sported plastic caps and sat under dryers. We were the only males in the room, and I was the youngest by at least three decades.

"We're looking for Nadine Tingle," Novak said. I was impressed. He didn't sound at all intimidated. I was fighting the urge to hide behind him.

One of the ladies stepped forward. She was a large, daunting woman, with even larger hair that was an unnatural shade of orange. "And who are you?"

"My name is Shane Novak and this is my assistant, Killian Kendall. We need to ask Ms. Tingle some questions."

"What kind of questions?"

"Are you Ms. Tingle?"

"No. Anita Johnson."

I had to smother a laugh at how her name sounded when spoken aloud, but Novak managed to keep his cool — if he even caught it. "Is Ms. Tingle available?"

Anita shot me a dirty look. Apparently, I hadn't hid my amusement well enough. "She ain't here today."

"Do you know when she'll be back?"

"Nope."

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me her phone number or address?"

"Nope."

The back door swung open and a petite woman with bottle-blond hair strode into the room. "It's okay, Anita. I'll talk to him."

"Are you Ms. Tingle?" Novak asked.

"Oh please, call me Nadine," she drawled in a husky smoker's voice. "Unless you're with the IRS. In that case, you can call me tomorrow."

At first I thought she was fairly young, but as she came closer, I could clearly see she was quite a bit older than my first impression. A web of fine lines bracketed her eyes and lips, and her teeth were tobacco stained. Her leathery skin was testament to a great deal of time spent either in the sun or a tanning bed. She was wearing tight-fitting, dark blue jeans and a low cut blouse. I tried not to look directly at her freckled cleavage.

She reminded me of a less refined version of Steve's real estate agent.

Novak held out his hand. "Shane Novak. I'm a private investigator. This is my assistant, Killian Kendall."

We shook hands, then Nadine gestured towards the door. "Why don't we step outside? This room has more ears than a bushel of corn, and they don't mind telling what they hear."

Everyone pretended to ignore that as we followed Nadine's tight jeans out the door.

"You interrupted my smoke break when you burst into the henhouse." She lit up a cigarette. I hadn't even seen her pull one out, it just appeared between her lips as if by magic. "Hope you don't mind if I partake."

"It's your lungs," Novak replied breezily.

"Amen to that." She blew a stream of smoke straight up into the air. "I'm so tired of the government trying to tell me what I can and can't do with my own body." She took another puff while she studied us. "So, what do you want to talk about? This something to do with Ira?"

"Good guess. What can you tell us about him?"

"About Ira? Ha! Not much. Not much good, anyway. Mean son of a bitch — meaner than a hog-nosed snake — and a drunk to boot. And believe me, he wasn't a happy drunk."

"Weren't you dating him?"

"Honey, I haven't dated anyone since I was twenty. Dating is a young person's game. We met certain needs for each other."

"And what needs were those?"

"Some things a lady doesn't talk about," she gave me a pointed look, "especially in front of children."

I blushed, but Novak, ever the professional, nodded and let it go. "What about his son, Caleb?"

"What about him? Weird kid. Real quiet. Moody. Didn't see him much when I was around. He was always out back somewhere. Prob'ly kept girly magazines in the barn or something."

"Were you surprised to hear that the police believe he might have killed his father?"

She thought for a moment. "I was and I wasn't. I was surprised he'd have the balls to do anything as gutsy as kill someone. He was scared of Ira. Can't say I blame him. Like I told you, Ira was mean, especially to the boy. That's what I meant by 'I wasn't surprised'. I don't really blame him if he did kill the bastard. My only question would be what took him so long?"

"So you are comfortable with the idea of Caleb committing this murder?"

"Comfortable? Who'd be comfortable with a thing like that?"

"I mean, do you think he did it?"

"Oh, well, that's something else entirely. I don't know. That's not for me to decide, is it?"

"What about you?" Novak said casually.

She took a long drag off the cigarette. "What about me?"

"Did Ira ever hit you?"

She released the smoke slowly, then took another drag. "He knew better."

"Can you think of anyone else who would have wanted to kill Ira?"

She snorted and a puff of smoke shot out her nostrils. "Sugar, just list all the people who ever met the SOB and you'll know who's wanted to kill him at one time or another."

"What about right now? Who would have wanted him dead at this particular time?"

She took one last drag of her cigarette, dropped it on the stoop, and crushed it out with a dainty little twist of her ankle before kicking it off into the grass. "I'm not saying anything one way or the other, understand? But have you talked to the folks down at the Ease Inn where he worked?"

"No. Is there any reason you would mention them?"

"You could say things weren't real good between Ira and his boss lately."

"And why was that?"

She smiled. "That's your job to find out, now isn't it?"

Novak smiled back. I could have sworn he was enjoying the banter. "I suppose it is. And who might I ask for when we visit the Ease Inn?"

"You might ask for Prince Charming, but God knows you won't find him there." She snorted at her own joke. "Ask for Phil Zaranski. He runs the place. I gotta get back inside now. I got Ethel under the blower and her hair's as brittle as dry spaghetti. I can't leave her too long. We're done, aren't we?"

"We're done," Novak agreed. "And may I say that it has been a pleasure indeed."

"You wanna come in and say goodbye to Anita?" Nadine asked with her hand on the knob and a wicked grin on her face.

"That's one pleasure I can do without."

She turned with a cackle and vanished inside.

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