The Truth of Yesterday

Book 4 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries

By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026

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Chapter 5

The following week was uneventful, and felt all the longer for my anticipation for our trip to D.C. Mr. Knox drove to and from work without deviating from his usual schedule, Jake drove back and forth to school, my classes were boring for the most part, and I spent the rest of my time catching up on paperwork at the office.

Novak managed to book us a room in the same hotel where Knox was staying, which was not easy considering it was also hosting the conference. Mrs. Knox was paying dearly for it.

Friday finally arrived, and Micah and I left after my morning classes. The drive was pleasant until we hit traffic just outside of D.C. The last leg of the trip was excruciating. I was terrified Knox would beat us there, which would make my job a lot harder.

Finally, we arrived at the hotel, and my anxiety was temporarily forgotten as we stepped into the lobby.

"Wow!" I tried to keep my mouth from dropping open. Places like this made me realize that, at heart, I was little more than a country bumpkin.

I'd never been in such a luxurious hotel before. Tall, white columns rose from the brightly polished white marble floor to meet a high, vaulted ceiling from which enormous crystal chandeliers were suspended.

The wainscoting was rich, dark wood that I thought might be mahogany, above which original oil paintings hung on silk-covered walls. The smell of wood polish and some identifying scent that just smelled like wealth.

The furniture arranged around the lobby on thick oriental rugs all appeared to be authentic antiques or, if not, high-quality reproductions. Classical music played softly in the background.

"One thing's for sure," Micah said. "This guy you're following has expensive tastes."

"His company is paying for all this. He's here for a conference." I started across the expanse of marble toward the young woman behind the desk, hoping I didn't look as out of place as I felt.

"Hello. I believe you have a room reserved under the name Kendall."

I'd never checked into a hotel before. I felt so grown up.

"Of course, Mr. Kendall," she said, click-clacking away on the keyboard. "Are you here for the conference?"

"You could say that," I replied.

She gave me a curious look.

"I mean, I'm hoping I get to see the city while I'm here."

Her bright smile returned. "You really should make time to see the Smithsonian, at least."

She dipped a key card into a machine and slid it into a cardboard sleeve.

"Is one key card good?"

"Could I get two? I, uh, always lose one."

"Of course."

She programmed the second card and added it to the sleeve, then handed them to me.

"Enjoy your stay!"

I collected Micah and we headed up to the room. It was small, clearly not one of their best rooms, but it was clean and the bed was a queen. I threw my suitcase on the bed and popped it open, pulling out a change of clothes that I hoped would help me blend in — a pair of khakis and a pale blue button-up.

Micah watched me drop my pants and step out of them with a twinkle in his eye. "Are you sure you have to rush right back out?"

"Sorry, babe," I replied as I pulled my shirt over my head and slid the new one on. "You know the drill."

Micah and I had already discussed how the surveillance would work. We both knew this was a business trip for me, which meant I had to do my job. I was going to return to the lobby to watch for Knox to check in and keep an eye on him after that. If he started to leave the hotel, then Micah would step in as my guide. It wasn't a perfect plan. If Micah took too long to reach the lobby when I texted him, we could lose Knox. Still, it was the best we could come up with. We were afraid that the two of us lurking around the hotel would be too conspicuous.

I finished buttoning my shirt and turned to grab the rest of my businessman drag.

"I know, but damn, you don't have to tease me," he said with an appreciative leer as I bent over.

I snorted. "Keep your pants on, Romeo."

"One of us has to."

I laughed as I tugged the khakis over my butt, and Micah sighed dramatically.

"How do you make even the most boring outfit known to man sexy?"

"You're just horny," I said, as I ducked into the bathroom to attempt to tame my curls.

"Can you blame me?"

I emerged and dug a book out of my suitcase, then gave Micah a quick kiss.

"I don't know how late I'll be, but if you manage to stay awake, I'll make up for it later?"

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He squeezed my butt, then patted it. "I'll hold you to that."

I headed back downstairs, where I picked a spot that afforded me a clear view of the main door and the front desk while keeping me mostly out of sight behind a large potted plant. I settled into the plush chair and pretended to read.

About an hour later, Knox finally entered and made directly for the desk, followed by a bellhop pushing a luggage cart laden with two large suitcases and a garment bag. How much did this guy need to pack for a weekend?

He checked in, accepted his keycard and headed for the elevator. I stayed put until the door closed behind him, then went over and pretended to push the UP button. While I "waited" for the elevator to arrive, I watched to see which floor Knox stopped on — the one above Micah's and mine.

As soon as I knew where to go, I pushed UP for real. Almost immediately the other elevator slid open. The ride was agonizingly slow and I was almost frantic by the time the doors opened. I was just in time to see the bellhop carrying the last of Knox's bags into the room. I hesitated for a second, but Knox didn't reappear before the bellhop emerged tucking a five-dollar bill into his pocket.

I made note of Knox's room number, then cased the hallway looking for a place where I could unobtrusively keep an eye on him. Luckily, about halfway along the corridor in the opposite direction from the elevators was a small alcove with two chairs, a tiny table, and a fragrant fresh flower arrangement. While it wasn't ideal, it would have to do. Chances were fairly good that, if Knox came out of his room, he'd head for the elevators and not toward me. As long as none of the other folks on the floor noticed me hanging around and reported me to security, I'd be okay.

I checked my watch as I settled into one of the chairs. It was a little after four.

Stakeouts have to be one of the dullest experiences on earth. Easily the worst part of being a private detective. You can sit for hours — sometimes days — doing nothing but watching a door, waiting for something, anything, to happen. I had a book with me, of course, but I couldn’t let myself get pulled too deep into the story. If Knox made his move and I missed it because I was lost in a chapter, I’d never forgive myself. So I read in fits and starts, barely skimming paragraphs, my attention split down the middle. For someone who loves reading as much as I do, it was torture.

It was just before six when Knox stepped out of his room. He'd changed from his traveling clothes into a business suit. Pulling the door shut, he strode off down the hall toward the elevators without looking in my direction.

I remained where I was until the elevator doors closed, then watched the lighted numbers descend to L. Remembering how slow the elevator was, I ran for the stairs. The last thing I wanted was to lose him that early in my surveillance. I raced down the steps two at a time and was panting when I reached the bottom.

I took a deep, calming breath and hoped I had composed myself somewhat before I entered the lobby. Scanning the room as casually as possible, I felt my stomach drop. Knox was nowhere in sight. I crossed the room as quickly as possible without running, cursing under my breath with every step, and looked outside. Still no sign of him.

Then I remembered the convention. It was being held in the building itself. Didn't weekend conferences often start on Friday evening? I quickly ducked back into the hotel and caught a bellboy by the sleeve. "Excuse me. Can you tell me where the conference rooms are?"

I guessed the bellboy was around my age, but had the misfortune to bear a more-than-slightly simian appearance. In his uniform, he looked like an overgrown organ grinder's monkey. Instead of jumping up and down while demanding a quarter, though, he smiled politely and gave me directions.

I thanked him and hurried off, not quite at a jog, but not far from it. I rounded the last corner and came to a screeching halt. To my vast relief, my quarry was standing not too far from me talking to another man in a suit. Luckily, Knox's back was to me, and I was able to survey the area before slipping back around the corner.

It was going to be harder to keep an eye on him in the conference room. Not only was there no convenient alcove setup, but there would be people coming and going constantly. More importantly, I probably looked fairly shifty standing at the edge of the corner with my back pressed against the wall. I forced my body into a more casual stance, as if waiting for someone to come along.

What was I going to do about Knox? What would Novak do?

I peeked around the corner again and watched while he and the man he was talking to seemed to finish up their conversation. They shook hands and moved toward one of the conference-hall doors.

"Can I help you?" a voice asked from behind me, causing me to jump guiltily.

I spun around to find a smug member of the hotel staff glaring at me the way one might look at a pile of offending doggie doo that had somehow managed to situate itself under one's foot. The man facing me was a little above average in height with stiffly gelled dark hair and beady eyes that glared down his long, thin nose.

"Um, yes..." My mind raced to come up with a cover story.

Damn it! I'd forgotten Novak's first rule of private investigation.

"Is this, uh, where the, er, conference is being held?" I managed.

Weak, but it would have to do.

The man arched an eyebrow. "Yes, indeed it is. Are you attending the conference?"

"Oh, um, yes. I'm staying here too," I added just to be safe.

I showed him my keycard, which did seem to make an impression. I could almost read his mind: at least I hadn't crept in off the streets.

"Could I be of assistance? Show you to the correct conference room, perhaps?" He paused meaningfully and then sprung his trap. "Which conference are you here for?"

Crap! There was more than one? Or was it a trick question? I hadn't even thought to check to see what conference Knox was attending. Had Sharla or Mrs. Knox told me? I realized it was probably on the print out Sharla had given me but I hadn't paid attention. A major screw up. I just hoped it would be a learnable moment and not tank my investigation completely.

"The, uh, one for sales," I replied lamely.

"Ah, yes. That one."

He looked mildly disappointed that I’d managed a passable — if not particularly intelligent — response. Still, being thought a little dim was better than getting unceremoniously tossed out on my ass.

"It's right this way. Follow me." He walked briskly past me and around the corner.

I couldn't very well refuse — not if I wanted to get out of this while attracting as little attention as possible. I held my breath, stepped around the corner. Much to my relief, Knox was nowhere in sight.

I decided to risk a question. "Are there other conferences going on this weekend?"

My guide gave me an irritated look. "No, this is the only one."

So it had been a trick question. I could tell he didn't appreciate having to admit it.

He ushered me through a set of doors into a ballroom that had been transformed in what looked like a TED Talk stage. Dramatic lighting illuminated the stage, and large LED screens showed closeups of the speaker, who was saying, "If you haven't registered and received your name badge yet, please don't forget to do so as soon as our introductory session is over."

Clearly, the first session had already begun. At least my lack of plastic-coated ID wouldn't be too obvious. I took a seat in the back row.

As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I scanned the room for my quarry. I spotted his sandy-blond hair about halfway toward the front. At least I could keep an eye on him now, even if it did mean sitting through a few boring speeches.

Boring turned out to be an understatement. By the time eight o'clock rolled around, I was struggling just to keep my eyes from slamming shut. When the speaker finally stopped for a break, I pretended to check emails on my phone while Knox walked by. I couldn't believe in just thirty minutes they would actually be starting back up for yet another two hours. I wanted to cry at the very thought. At least one thing was certain: I wasn't cut out for sales.

I texted Micah to let him know what was going on, then stood up and stretched before making my way out into the hall with the last of the stragglers. I found Knox at the registration table picking up his name badge. Registration was a casual affair at this point, most people having already signed in, and the remainder of the badges and conference kits were simply laid out with no one manning the table.

That gave me an idea. I decided a little camouflage couldn't hurt, and as soon as Knox moved away from the table, I sidled over and found an unclaimed badge. I quickly slipped the lanyard over my head, then double checked the name. I'd be Topher King from Kingline Enterprises for the night. Picking up a kit, I moved into a corner out of the way and waited. Knox never left my sight.

The second half of the evening session was every bit as scintillating as the first. I was approaching a comatose state by the time the last speaker finished up, until the polite applause as he stepped off the platform startled me into full alertness. He was replaced a moment later by the man who'd been giving directions when I first entered.

"That's all for this evening," he said, sounding about as awake as I felt. "We'll see you all back here in the morning at eight-thirty. And don't forget the complimentary continental breakfast."

I groaned inwardly as everyone stood and moved toward the doors. That meant I'd have to be up early so I could keep an eye on old Knox. God only knew when I'd be getting to bed tonight.

I watched Knox pass, waited while a few more people went by, then stood and followed. He stopped in the hall to chat with some other Finding a group of men talking among themselves about their plans for the rest of the evening, I pretended to join them. When Knox disappeared around the corner, I started to extricate myself when one of the other men, an older guy with tortoiseshell glasses and a gut that threatened to burst a few buttons jutting from beneath his blazer, glanced at my name tag.

"Topher? Topher King?" he boomed. "Look at you! All grown up. I haven't seen you since you were just a little thing. You must be proud of your old man for being this year's recipient of the Lifetime Achievement in Sales Award."

"Oh, um, yeah. Heh. Very proud," I said.

"Where is he, anyway? I haven't seen him yet."

"He's getting in, uh, tomorrow morning," I said, edging away.

"Well, hang on just a sec. Let's get a picture together."

"No! I mean, I, uh, um...I look terrible. Heh. You know how it is, traveling all day, sitting in the conference..."

"Bullshit. You look as good as the rest of us," he said and brayed an annoying laugh. "Come on, guys! Selfie!"

The men quickly circled me, throwing their arms around my shoulder, as the annoying loud one took a photo.

"I'll be sure to tag you!" he said as they broke up.

"Great," I said with zero enthusiasm. The real Topher King would be very confused very soon. "Anyway, I should get going. Early morning tomorrow."

"Oh, come on," one of the other guys said. "The night is young. Join us for a round at the hotel bar."

"Not tonight fellas, but I'll, uh, get a round tomorrow night."

That was something people said wasn't it? I couldn't waste any more time or I'd lose Knox. With a wave, I backed away, then turned to rush toward the lobby.

As I was scurrying away, I heard one of the other guys say, "He really looks great for thirty, doesn't he?"

To my relief, Knox must have paused to chat with someone in the lobby, because as I rounded the corner, he and another man were just approaching the elevators. I hurried across the lobby, trying to look inconspicuous as Knox pressed the call button. His companion shook his hand and peeled off toward the hotel bar. Knox stepped into the elevator alone. I hung back, watching from a safe distance until the doors slid shut, then strolled casually over just in time to see where he was headed to.

The elevator stopped on his floor. With a sigh of resignation, I turned and jogged for the stairs. I made it to the hallway just in time to catch a glimpse of his door swinging shut.

He could be in for the night or he could just be changing before going back out. I couldn't afford to leave, so I took my post again, sitting in one of the rather uncomfortable chairs in the alcove, and prepared to wait.

Two hours later, two things were becoming increasingly obvious: Knox wasn't going anywhere and no one was joining him. I decided to risk returning to our room. I would just have to return early enough in the morning to be back in what I was beginning to think of as my own private alcove long before Knox arose in the morning.

I wasn't exactly thrilled as I set an alarm on my phone for an ungodly hour, but what choice did I have? It was all part of the job.

I rode the elevator down one floor and let myself into the room as quietly as I could in case Micah was asleep.

Once my eyes adjusted to the near-darkness, I could just make him out on the bed — one arm flung over his head, the blanket pushed down to his waist, revealing the band of his underwear. My gaze drifted up his torso, moonlight silvering his skin, making him look like a sculpture, marble-smooth and heartbreakingly beautiful. My breath caught. He looked so serene, so unguarded. I felt something tighten in my chest.

I was supposed to sleep next to that?

I’d stayed over plenty of times, usually after long nights of dancing when we’d both collapsed into bed too tired to do much more than sleep. We’d fooled around, sure, but I always stopped things before they went too far. Micah had never pushed. He respected my boundaries, and I appreciated him for that.

But standing there, watching him sleep, something felt different. Maybe it was the hotel room, or maybe I was just finally ready. I slowly peeled off my clothes, sliding under the covers beside him.

What was my deal with sex, anyway? There had been times I wanted it — with Asher, and definitely with Micah — but something always made me pull back. Fear, mostly. Fear of getting it wrong. Of looking stupid. Of the pain. Of it not being like the stories — perfect and glowing and magical.

And maybe, deep down, I knew that sleeping with Micah would tear down the last of the walls I’d been hiding behind. With him inside me, I’d be completely vulnerable. Exposed. And I’d never thought I wanted that with anyone.

But watching him breathe softly in the moonlight, vulnerability didn’t seem so terrifying anymore. In fact, it started to sound kind of beautiful — especially if it meant being wrapped up in him, skin to skin, nothing between us but trust.

I suddenly realized I'd boned up while I laid there watching my boyfriend sleep.

"Perv," I whispered to myself, ignoring my erection as best I could. Micah never stirred.

I rolled onto my side to watch his face, drawn to the quiet rhythm of his breathing. I wanted to feel his body against mine, skin to skin. I wanted to kiss him, to wake him and whisper a question I wasn’t brave enough to ask: would he take my virginity?

But I didn’t do any of that.

Instead, I reached out and let my hand rest lightly on his arm, soaking in his warmth. He didn’t stir. I stayed like that, watching him sleep, until my eyes finally grew too heavy.

All too soon, I was awakened by the rude blaring of the alarm. For a few confused seconds, I couldn't remember where I was or why the room was still pitch black. Then I felt Micah stirring at my side, and it all came back to me.

I fumbled with my phone, finally managing to turn off the alarm. I did not want to get out of bed, but I forced myself into a sitting position with my legs dangling off the edge while I tried to wake enough to think clearly.

"What time is it?" Micah asked.

"Too early."

I was trying to summon the energy to stand when I felt his hand slide across my back, warm and gentle. A shiver rippled through me and, suddenly, I was very awake.

"I didn't even hear you come in last night."

"I didn't want to wake you."

"I wish you had." I felt him sit up, and a second hand joined the first in its exploration of my back.

"I should go. I need to make sure I'm in place before Knox leaves his room." I didn't move.

He ran his hands up my arms and over my shoulders, causing another chill to course through me. He leaned in so close I could feel the heat from his body as his hands traced down my chest.

Part of my brain was yelling at me to remember Novak’s warning about not letting sex become a distraction. But a much bigger and louder part was telling it to shut the fuck up and mind its own business.

"God, Killian, you're so beautiful," Micah whispered as his lips brushed my ear, echoing my thoughts about him from just a few hours ago.

When his lips found my neck, it was like fire racing through my veins. A soft whimper escaped me before I even knew it was mine. He eased me closer with a gentle pull at my shoulders, pressing our bodies together. I melted into him, all thoughts of work dissolving as I gave myself over to the moment.

I tilted my head so I could look into his eyes. Even in the dim light, I could see everything written there — desire, yes, but more than that. Love. A deep, quiet kind of love that made my chest ache.

His lips found mine, and I twisted toward him, my whole body reaching. The kiss started slowly, a gentle press, but it deepened fast as heat bloomed between us. Micah shifted, lowering me carefully onto the bed, never breaking contact, his body covering mine like a warm, steady weight.

Something throbbed against my leg, and I realized it was him. I was pretty sure I was guilty of the same. His hands roamed everywhere, gliding over my skin like he needed to memorize it.

Normally, that would be where I stopped things, where instinct or fear made me pull away. But in that moment? I couldn’t have pulled away if I tried. Every nerve in my body was electric, my breath already coming in short, uneven gasps.

Then he paused. Slowly, he pulled back just far enough to meet my gaze, his eyes searching mine.

“I love you,” he said, quiet and steady.

“I love you too.” The words left my mouth before I even thought. There was no doubt in them.

He kissed me again — briefly this time, though no less passionately — before tracing his lips down the curve of my neck. When he found that soft spot beneath my ear, my back arched reflexively, a shudder running through me. He lingered there, teasing, before continuing his journey down my neck, across my chest, lower still.

My thoughts were drifting, hazy, until I felt his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my underwear.

“Micah,” I gasped, not knowing if I was stopping him or calling him closer.

He froze. “Should I stop?”

I looked up into his face. “No. Don’t stop.”

His expression softened, tender and focused. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“It’s not that. I just...” I hesitated, heart pounding with a mix of nerves and anticipation. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He smiled then, a smile so sweet and patient it nearly undid me. He leaned down and kissed me, soft as breath.

“That’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll show you everything you need to know.”

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