A Change of Worlds

Book 5 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries

By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026

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Chapter 12

I was working at my desk later that evening, enjoying the peace and quiet, when the phone rang. I glared at it before answering somewhat resentfully.

"Killian?" It was Asher.

"Uh, hi."

"Man, you're hard to catch up with! I called your cell, your house and the B&B. Steve suggested I try you at the office. Isn't it kind of late to be there?"

I glanced at my phone and was surprised to see it was almost nine o'clock. No wonder my stomach had been growling.

"Sorry. I needed to write up notes of my investigation while it was still fresh in my mind, and I silenced my phone so I wouldn't be distracted. Then I started working on other things while the office was quiet and, well...here I am. I guess I lost track of time. You know what they say: time flies when you're having fun."

"Wow, I really envy that."

"Huh?"

"I think it's cool you're doing something you love so much. I mean, you're still in college and you have your dream job. I have no idea what I want to do after school."

I hesitated a second, then said, "You didn't think it was so cool when I told you I wanted to be a private investigator."

There was a long pause. "I'm sorry. I know I didn't support you then, and all I can do now is apologize. I was selfish, only thinking about how it affected me."

Things were getting too serious for my comfort, so I decided to change the subject.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"Oh, I wanted to say again how much I enjoyed myself the other night. It was terrific getting together with you after all this time."

"Yeah, I had fun too."

"Great! Then how about we do it again soon?"

"I...uh..."

"Come on! You just said you had fun the other night. Come to dinner with me this Friday."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"What's not a good idea? Eating? Killian, you have to eat anyway, so why not do it with me? You can't turn down a free meal."

"If I agree, you can't pay for me again. I'll buy this time."

"Do I take that as a yes?"

I sighed. "I guess so."

"What time is good for you?"

"I don't really have any plans, so whenever."

"I can pick you up at six if that's okay."

"That's fine."

"Great! I'll see you then!"

"See you then," I echoed.

I hung up and stared at the phone, already regretting my moment of weakness. What was I thinking? Sure, Micah had told me to hang out with Asher, but he probably didn't mean more than once. Of course, I was still figuring out my feelings, so maybe it all counted as one big lump date.

Someone knocked on the door, making me jump guiltily. I hopped up to answer the door and somehow wasn't surprised to see Micah standing in the hall.

"Hey," he said with a warm smile. "I thought I might find you here." He held up two brown paper bags. "I brought Chinese takeout. I'm betting you haven't eaten."

I shook my head, feeling even guiltier for making another date with Asher. I'd have to tell Micah.

He set the bags on my desk before looking around the office. "Wow, they're really making a mess. How much longer before they're finished with the renovation?"

"God only knows," I said. "They aren't exactly the speediest workers. If they don't hurry up, though, I'm afraid Novak might commit homicide."

"Don't say that. Now if something happens he'll be suspect numero uno."

"Only if you report this conversation."

"Which I would have to do as a good citizen."

I rolled my eyes. "I met a gossip today who protected her sources better than you."

He laughed and opened one of the bags. "I got double-cooked pork and beef with scallops. I figured we could share."

I smiled. Those were my two favorite dishes. "Sounds good." I pushed my paperwork out of the way so we wouldn't get sauce on it.

"How's the case going?"

I shrugged. "Slowly. We hit a major roadblock today. The guy running the excavation found out I was a PI, and now he's pretty pissed. He threw me off the site. When I went back with Lily and Jacy, they got in an argument with him, and punches were thrown." Micah whistled. "Yeah, to say relations are a bit strained would be an understatement."

"Why were you undercover in the first place?"

I pushed back in my chair to allow Micah more room to dish out our meal. "Lily wanted it that way."

"She's the landowner's daughter?"

"Right."

"And the other person you mentioned?"

"Jacy? He's the grandson."

"So he's Lily's son?"

"No, he's Lily's nephew. It's complicated."

Micah made a face. "Not that complicated. How old is Jacy?"

"Around my age."

"Cute?" He had unpacked the contents of the bags and was now busily dividing them between two paper plates.

I studied him while he worked, trying to figure out where he was going with this. "He's pretty — long hair, delicate features. He's offered to help me with my gifts."

Micah glanced up with surprise. "He's gifted?"

I nodded. "And so is his grandfather, Fletcher."

"Wow. That's pretty awesome."

"Yeah. And good timing. My gifts have been acting up again with this case."

"How so?"

"We're dealing with ancestral lands — and let's just say the ancestors haven't strayed far."

Micah raised an eyebrow, then looked around for something to sit on. I lifted a nearby tarp and dragged out a chair.

"Thanks," he said, pulling it up to the desk.

"So is this Jacy person gay?" Micah asked as we started to eat. He sounded perfectly nonchalant, but I knew him too well.

"Yes. Does it matter?"

"No," he said a bit too quickly. "I mean, I was just wondering if maybe he's interested in you."

"You're jealous!"

He shrugged. "Maybe a little. Can you blame me? I hardly see you anymore, our relationship is up in the air, and we barely even talk. I had to track you down at your office well after closing to even have dinner with you."

I squirmed miserably. "You're right. I'm sorry. There's nothing going on between Jacy and me."

He looked down at his plate. "What about Asher?"

My breath caught in my throat, but before I could come up with an answer, the phone rang. I stared at it for several rings before Micah spoke up again. "Are you going to answer?"

At first I thought he meant his question, but then I realized he meant the phone. I snatched it up. "Hello?"

"Killian?" It was Lily, and she sounded upset.

"Yes. Is something wrong?"

"The police just left. Quinn Healy is dead."

"What?"

"The police said he was murdered. I don't know any details. They came here asking a lot of questions, and they talked to Jacy for a long time."

"Do they suspect Jacy?"

"I don't know. Do you think the looter did this?"

"I don't know enough to even start guessing about that yet. It could be completely unrelated, although that would be a pretty big coincidence. Where did it happen?"

"At the site of the dig, I think. I wouldn't have any idea, except the police are crawling all over the property."

"Do you want me to come over?"

"No, there's no need, I guess. I just thought you might want to know."

"You're right. Thanks for calling."

"I'll phone you again in the morning if anything else has happened by then."

"Okay. I'll see if I can find out some more details. If I don't hear from you, I'll try to stop by the house at some point."

"Thank you, Killian."

"What's going on?" Micah asked the moment I hung up.

"That was Lily. She said the police were just at Fletcher's house. Quinn Healy has been murdered."

"Who's he?"

"The guy who was heading up the excavation. He's a professor at Pemberton — or he was, rather."

"So it's a big deal. I'd better make sure the paper has heard of this. Mind if I use the phone?"

"Feel free." I slid the phone closer to him.

He quickly called his office. I ate while he talked to someone — I assumed his editor — relaying what little he knew. A few minutes later he hung up.

"There are no other reporters available right now, so they asked me to cover it. I'm going out to the site. You wanna come with?"

"I thought you'd never ask. Even if Healy's murder isn't directly connected to my case, which seems unlikely if it happened at the dig site, it's certainly going to have a big impact. The sooner I know exactly what's going on, the better."

We took Micah's car. I filled him in on what I knew of the situation while we drove to Fletcher's house. When we pulled into the driveway, we found several police cars parked on either side. We were approached by an officer as soon as we climbed out of the car.

She recognized Micah right away. "Jeez, you journalists are like vultures! The body's not even cool yet and you're descending. How'd you hear about it so quickly?"

"I never reveal my sources." He gave her a wink and a grin. "Who's in charge of the investigation?"

"Sgt. Kaplan, but he's busy at the scene of the crime. You'll have to wait here."

"Can you please tell him that Killian Kendall is here and would like to speak to him as soon as he has a chance?" I asked.

Her eyes darted in my direction as if noticing me for the first time. "Are you a reporter too?"

"No, Officer. I'm a private investigator. I was looking into some possible illegal activity at the excavation site. I spoke to Sgt. Kaplan just last week. He knows me."

She stared at me for a few more seconds, before walking a few yards away to speak into her two-way radio. There was a pause followed by an answering bleat that I couldn't understand. She turned back toward us. "You can follow me."

Micah and I started towards her, but she held up a hand and shook her head. "Sorry, Newspaper Man, only the PI right now. The sergeant will talk to you later."

I looked back at Micah. He shrugged and nodded towards the officer, so I followed her across the yard and through the trees.

I expected the spirits to be frenzied, but they were surprisingly still. I could barely sense them at all. I wondered what that might mean, remembering Fletcher's warning about how the dead were not helpless. A shiver ran down my spine. What if we weren't looking for a human killer at all? I quickly pushed that thought from my mind. I was letting my imagination run away with me.

As we drew closer to the site, the area grew brighter and brighter. The police had set up powerful lights on tripods around the small clearing, making it blaze like midday. It looked much as it had when I'd been there earlier — except the archaeological team had been replaced by uniformed police officers.

I noticed Elyse Pike off to one side, her arms wrapped protectively around her slim body. She was talking to someone who looked very official. The tarp that had been laid over the burial site was pulled back, but I wasn't close enough to see if the burial itself had been disturbed. Maybe the police had just uncovered it to make sure. I didn't see Sgt. Kaplan anywhere.

My guide stopped at the perimeter of the clearing and spoke softly with another officer who quickly crossed to the tent and ducked his head inside.

A moment later, Sgt. Kaplan emerged. He didn't look all that happy to see me. "What the hell are you doing here, Kendall?"

I was a little taken aback after our pleasant conversation just a few days earlier.

"I heard Professor Healy had been killed and thought it might have some bearing on my case. Plus, I was involved in an altercation with the professor earlier today."

"So I've heard. Care to tell me your version of what happened?"

I quickly outlined my visit the day before: how Elyse Pike had recognized me and revealed my real occupation to the professor and the chilly reception I'd received that morning. The sergeant was especially interested in what happened when I returned with Lily and Jacy.

He nodded when I'd finished. "That matches what Ms. Pike, Ms. Snyder, and Mr. Elliott reported, except you added a few details the others missed. Can you tell me again what Professor Healy said about adding additional security?"

"He said he'd see to it himself."

"What did you assume he meant by that?"

I shrugged. "Just that he would arrange some sort of security for the site tonight. I didn't actually give it much thought. I was pretty distracted at the time."

"Did you think he might spend the night himself?"

"That didn't occur to me, but I guess that's one interpretation. Is that what he did?"

The sergeant looked away. "I can't go into that right now. You'll have to wait for the official report."

"I don't understand. Can't you at least tell me what happened? I thought you were supportive of my involvement."

He looked back at me. "That was before it turned into a murder investigation."

"There's something else going on."

"Look, Killian, I know you're dating that hot-shot reporter, but I have to admit I'm a little disappointed that you showed up here with him." His voice took on a reproachful tone.

"Micah? He just happened to be in my office when I got the call from Lily Snyder. He called the newspaper and was assigned the story, so he offered to drive me down here." Sgt. Kaplan eyed me suspiciously. "I swear! That's all it was. It's not like I deliberately tipped him off about something top-secret!"

He nodded grudgingly. "If I fill you in, you have to give me your word you won't report it all directly back to him. We'll give him a statement, but most of what I tell you will have to be confidential — from the Snyders as well."

"Why the Snyders? I'm working for them."

"You won't have to keep it from them indefinitely, just until we make an arrest."

"I still don't understand."

He scanned the clearing as if making sure no one was listening. Everyone was bustling about, paying us no attention. "You'll just have to trust me. Do I have your word?"

"You're not leaving me much choice."

"Do I have your word or not?"

"Yes, you have my word."

"Thank you. Ms. Pike told us that after you left, Professor Healy shut down the excavation for the day and sent all the volunteers home. He told Ms. Pike that he intended to spend the night here at the site. She says it's a fairly common practice when they find something especially significant.

"After the day's fracas, she decided to call him earlier this evening. When he didn't answer his cell phone, she became concerned. After several more calls, she decided to drive down to check on him. When she arrived, she heard what sounded like someone running off through the trees. She called out, but there was no answer. Then she looked in the tent, where she found Professor Healy dead. She immediately called the police and waited at the scene until the first officers responded."

"How was he killed?"

"It appears that he was stabbed multiple times. We believe we have the murder weapon."

"You mentioned earlier something about making an arrest. Do you have a suspect?"

"We have a few people we're looking at closely. We won't know for sure until the various test results come back. We have a rush on them. Hopefully, we'll know something concrete by morning."

"It would be nice if things were wrapped up that quickly. Do you think the murder has anything to do with the thefts?"

"I'd have to say that would be the most likely scenario, one way or another."

"What do you mean?"

"I think it would be a pretty big coincidence if it didn't...and I don't believe in coincidences. Whether he was killed directly because of the thefts or if it was an indirect result, well, that remains to be seen."

"Had the excavation been disturbed when Ms. Pike arrived?" I gestured toward the burial pit.

"The tarp had been pulled back, but she hasn't had a chance to see if anything was actually looted."

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. I remembered again how still the spirits had been on my trek through the woods. I suddenly wasn't sure that was a good thing. Was it the stillness of peace after killing the person they thought responsible for the desecration of their sacred burial place? Or was it the stillness of barely contained rage? Another shudder rippled through my body.

"Killian?" Sgt. Kaplan asked, and I snapped back to the present conversation.

"Sorry. I was just thinking about...who the killer might be." I wasn't about to admit I was trying to sense the spirit of the ancient dead who now lay uncovered just a few feet from where we stood.

He studied me for a second. "And who do you think it might be? Has anything turned up in your investigation yet?"

"Not so far. I'm just getting started. I have a few leads to follow, but nothing solid at all. Is Elyse Pike a suspect?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Should she be?"

"Not particularly. At least not based on anything I've learned. It's just that if she was the one who called in the murder, she could just be trying to throw suspicion off of herself."

"She'd have to be a pretty cool-headed killer."

"I've run across a few like that."

He shook his head. "I forget you've had so much experience with killers at such a young age. Ms. Pike claims she was with someone right up until she left to look for Healy. We can also check her phone records to see if she did, in fact, call the professor. If her story checks out with the estimated time of death, she most likely won't be a suspect."

Just then, an officer walked up. "They're ready to move the body, Sergeant."

"I'll be right there." He turned back to me. "That's all I can tell you at this point. Officer Stoker will see you back to the car. Tell your reporter friend I'll be out to give him a statement in about twenty minutes. Remember, everything I told you is strictly confidential. If any of it finds its way into an article in tomorrow's paper, it'll be the last time I cooperate with you. And I might throw your ass in jail for interfering in a murder investigation. The stakes have changed now, and I expect you to stay out of the way. You can keep looking into the thefts as long as doing so doesn't interfere with our case. Anything you find out that might tie into the murder — even the remotest connection — I'll expect you to report to me immediately."

"Yes, sir," I snapped, a little annoyed by his attitude.

He sighed, then looked around quickly. In a low voice he said, "Killian, you have to understand that this is my job and I have to remain professional. I've already gone out on a limb telling you as much as I have. If any of this leaks to the media, it'll be my head on the block. Besides all that, this is a murder we're dealing with, and while I realize it's not your first murder, we could be dealing with someone extremely dangerous. I want you to be very careful from here on out. Got it?"

I nodded. "I'm always careful."

He rolled his eyes. "Right, and I'm the Pope. Now get going so I can do my job. We can talk more tomorrow."

"Thank you, Sgt. Kaplan."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He waved me off as he headed toward the tent.

I turned to my guide, whom I now knew as Officer Stoker. "I guess I'm done here."

She led me back to the car, then stood talking to the other officer who had stayed behind. They both took a seemingly relaxed stance, all the while keeping a surreptitious eye on us.

"I feel like I'm being guarded," Micah grumbled with a nod in their direction. "How'd it go?"

I shrugged. "He wasn't very talkative. He said he'd be out to give you a statement soon."

"He didn't tell you anything?"

"Nothing I can share," I said carefully.

Micah turned to me in disbelief. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"He didn't tell me much, and what he did tell me was confidential."

"You're seriously not going to tell me?"

"I can't. I need to maintain my relationship of trust with Sgt. Kaplan."

"What about our relationship of trust?"

"This is my job, Micah."

"And this is mine."

"Before we get into a fight, can we just wait and see what Sgt. Kaplan has to say to you? This might not even be an issue."

Micah nodded, still clearly unhappy with the situation. Not that I blamed him, I guess. If he had information that might be significant to one of my cases, I'd want him to tell me. Still, I had promised Kaplan, and I wasn't about to compromise my sweet arrangement with local law enforcement.

The wait for the sergeant was not a comfortable one. We barely spoke to each other the whole time. Kaplan must have been delayed because forty minutes crept by and he still hadn't appeared.

Finally, almost an hour after I'd left him, Sgt. Kaplan emerged from the forest. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said to Micah.

The two men shook hands. "I'm Micah Gerber with the Shore Times. Do you have anything for me, Sergeant?"

"Probably not as much as you'd like," Kaplan replied, "but it's all I can give you at this point. Here's the official statement. You ready?" Micah hit record on his phone and nodded. "Professor Quinn Healy of Pemberton University was found dead by his assistant Tuesday evening around 8 p.m. A call was placed to the police department at 8:05 p.m., and we responded immediately. We found Professor Healy as reported. Foul play is suspected. An investigation is underway."

There was a long pause while Micah waited for Kaplan to continue. "That's it?"

"For now. We'll hold a press conference later tomorrow after we know a bit more. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do." He nodded in my direction and walked away.

Micah turned to me with an expectant expression. "He had to tell you more than that."

I shrugged. "A little, but not much."

"You're still not going to tell me?"

"I can't."

Micah pressed his lips together tightly. "Fine. Then let's go. I need to write up my story...such as it is."

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