A Change of Worlds

Book 5 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries

By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026

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Chapter 25

I sat frozen in fear, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't even dare to breathe, not wanting to do anything to draw the person's attention. I watched him move cautiously into the clearing.

Something about the way he moved suddenly seemed familiar.

"Pssst, Killian? Are you still here?"

Recognition hit me all at once. It was Jacy. But what was he doing at the excavation?

A sudden, horrible thought occurred to me. What if the police were right and Jacy really was the killer? Maybe he was out here to murder me too. All the pieces suddenly fit. The knife used on Healy belonged to Jacy, who was furious about the mishandling of the excavation and had shown his bad temper that day when he punched the professor. It would make perfect sense for the killer to volunteer to watch the site. What better way to keep an eye on things while throwing suspicion off himself?

Those frantic thoughts careened wildly through my head in an instant. Just as quickly, I swept them away as nonsense.

"Over here," I whispered, causing him to jump.

"You scared the crap out of me," he gasped with an uneasy chuckle. He walked over to my hiding place and crouched down next to me, his breath puffing white in the cold.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd keep you company."

I was more grateful for his presence than I wanted to admit. The long dark hours alone had crawled under my skin. "You didn't think I could handle it on my own?"

I could see him smile, a flash of white in the moonlight. "I know how lonely it got last night."

"We can't talk. It would scare away the looter."

"I didn't say anything about talking. I'm just here to keep you company. I can go back if you want."

That was the last thing I wanted. "Please don’t. I’m glad you came. Maybe we can take turns keeping alert, and when one starts to get tired, the other can take over."

"That works. Do you mind going first?"

"Sure, no problem."

"We should lean against each other," Jacy suggested. "That way one of us can nap while the other one keeps watch."

It was practical. Completely practical. Still, my pulse ticked up a notch.

I shuffled around as quietly as possible so Jacy could settle next to me. As soon as he leaned his shoulder into mine, some of the tension knotting my spine released. His body was warm — solid, grounding.

We lapsed into silence.

A breeze rustled the bare branches overhead. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. My unease from earlier was almost gone. Just feeling the warmth of Jacy's body was comforting.

Soon, I felt him relax as his breathing became more even. He twitched a few times and then was still. He'd fallen asleep.

For a while, I stayed alert, scanning the shadows, listening for footsteps or the rustle of someone creeping along the fence line. But my eyes started to get heavy, and the cold settled deep in my muscles. I nudged Jacy awake. "Your turn," I whispered.

He stirred immediately. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled.

I didn’t last long after that. Sleep dragged me under fast.

I awoke sometime later, damp and achy. My butt felt like it had fused with the frozen ground. I gave a soft groan as I stretched my legs.

Jacy jerked. "Damn! You scared me again. I think I must have drifted off."

"Some pair we are, sleeping on the job." I checked my phone. It was about one in the morning. "Do you think he'd show up this late?"

"I don't know. Both Healy and Bridget were killed not long after dark, and it was earlier than this when Fletcher was assaulted. You'd think the killer would catch on and come later, when there is less chance of getting caught in the act."

"That's a good point. Maybe there's something that prevents him from coming later."

"Like what?"

"I'm not sure. A job? A roommate or lover who would question a late-night absence?"

"Is that something you can look into?"

"Should be easy enough. I am an investigator, after all."

"At least that's the theory."

I elbowed him sharply, and he stifled a chuckle.

"Do you think there's any point in staying out here?" he asked after a few seconds.

I looked at my phone again. "Maybe just a little longer."

"Cool."

We fell silent once more. The quiet stretched — comfortable, surprisingly — and then Jacy cleared his throat.

"So, um, how are you doing with the breakup and all?"

His unexpected question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't quite know how to respond. The cold suddenly felt sharper against my skin.

"Uh, I guess I'm okay."

"If you have to guess, you must not be sure."

"I mean, I miss him and all, but I'm starting to think that maybe it was for the best."

"Really? How so?"

"I was talking to my mom about this last night at the party—"

"Party?"

"Oh, everyone got together and threw me a surprise party last night."

"Was it your birthday?"

"It's next week, but the party was actually to celebrate my promotion to partner at work."

"Partner? Wow! That's really impressive. Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"So you were talking to your mom?"

"Right. She said she thought I would benefit from being on my own for a while. I started dating Asher when I was sixteen and then began seeing Micah right after Asher and I broke up."

"You mean you've only ever dated two guys?"

"Yep. What about you?"

"You're two up on me."

"Really?" I twisted around to get a better look at him. His face was half-shadow, half-silvered by moonlight. "You've got to be kidding. Didn't you say you came out at sixteen?" He nodded. "And you've never dated a single person?"

"Nope."

"You weren't interested?"

"I wouldn't say I was uninterested. I had a very bad experience when I was still dealing with my sexuality. I met this...guy. He was Native too...and everything I wasn't: confident, openly gay, and very sensual. He flirted with me outrageously, and I fell hard for him. Then I found out he was only interested in me for sex, so I walked away." He laughed softly. "I've always been too principled for my own good."

I laughed with him. "Me too, so don't feel bad."

"At least you're not a nineteen-year-old virgin."

"I was an eighteen-year-old virgin."

It was his turn to twist around toward me. "You dated someone that long without having sex?"

"Yeah. I had some issues, I guess. Don't get me wrong. Asher and I fooled around. We just never actually, you know...did it."

"Asher must have either been really in love with you or he had a lot of patience."

"A little from column A, a little from column B. He still loves me."

"You sound kind of sad about that."

"It's complicated."

"I'm listening."

"Asher showed up a couple of weeks ago. He wants to get back together."

"How is that complicated? Either you want to or you don't."

I gave a humorless snort of laughter. "I wish it was that easy. I don't really know what I want. I think Mom might be right that I could use some time alone. Problem is, I've never actually been all by myself, so the idea kind of scares me. Do you like being single?"

He shrugged. "I'm good at it."

"Just because you're good at something doesn't mean you like it."

"I was content until recently."

"What happened to change that?"

He shrugged again, but this time it was smaller, almost shy. "After my bad experience with Skye, I didn't want to date anyone for a while. Then I moved in with Fletcher. When he started training me as a shaman, I figured I should focus on that without the distraction of other relationships. Now the bulk of my training is pretty much complete, except for the ongoing stuff that you're constantly learning just by living. With more time on my hands and all, well...I've been feeling kind of lonely."

Something he'd said niggled at the back of my mind, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly.

I sighed. "Great. I don't think I'll be very good at being single."

"Just because you don't get back together with Asher or Micah doesn't mean you have to be single. I'm sure there are other guys who would love to date you."

"Wouldn't that kind of defeat the purpose of being alone to figure out who I am?"

"Yeah, I guess it would." He sighed, and I suddenly wondered if he had been hinting that he was one of the guys who were interested in dating me. I didn't know how to tackle that question without embarrassing both of us, so I decided to let it drop.

Suddenly, the thing Jacy had said clicked into place so hard it was almost audible.

“Wait. Did you say the guy you had a bad experience with was named Skye?”

Jacy’s head snapped around. Even in the low light, I could see the disbelief on his face.

“Don’t tell me you know him…”

“I don’t know him,” I said slowly, “but I think I might’ve met him the other day. Does he live with Miss Vessey?”

Jacy frowned, thinking it through. “She’s his grandmother, so...possibly. I don’t exactly keep tabs on him. Last I heard, he went off to college out of state. I figured he’d stay gone.”

“Well, he’s back,” I said. “And staying with his grandmother for the summer. He practically threw himself at me.”

Jacy tipped his head back, letting a wash of silver moonlight illuminate his features. His expression was equal parts resignation and something that looked a lot like protectiveness.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “That sounds like him. Skye always knew how to turn on the charm — especially when he wanted something.” He let the words hang in the cold air for a moment. “You should be careful around him, Killian. He’s...beautiful, sure, and he knows it. But he can be reckless. And selfish. And he doesn’t think twice about using someone’s feelings if it gets him attention.”

"I didn't say he was charming. If anything, I found him off-putting, too aggressive, not willing to take no for an answer."

"Classic Skye." He turned away, but I could tell his mind wasn’t on our stakeout anymore.

Neither was mine.

"Should we head back yet?" he asked after a few minutes.

A quick glance at my phone revealed that very little time had gone by since I'd checked it last. There didn't seem to be much point in sitting out in the cold all night, though. If we left immediately, I could still get in a few hours of sleep before leaving for the office in the morning.

"Yeah, nothing is happening here tonight."

Jacy rose gracefully to his feet, then offered me a hand.

As I stood up, I caught a glimpse of motion out of the corner of my eye. I quickly spun around to find the white buck standing over the disturbed grave. His eyes bored into mine for several seconds. I heard Jacy draw in a sharp breath. I half expected the animal to morph into White Deer, but instead, he turned and leaped into the trees.

"Was that...?" Jacy suddenly sounded breathless.

"White Deer."

"I've never seen..." He stared after the deer with wide eyes.

"I think he wanted you to see him."

"Why?"

"I have no idea, but I'm sure if he wants you to know, you'll find out eventually."

If I had hoped to get a few hours of shuteye before going to the office, I was sadly disappointed. Although Jacy invited me to stay at Fletcher's house, that seemed like a bad idea, so I insisted on driving back to the B&B. When I finally crawled into bed, however, my brain refused to disconnect and let me fall asleep. I lay there for hours pondering the significance of White Deer's appearance to Jacy, as well as trying to figure out the mess of my love life.

Somehow, I managed to doze for about an hour before my alarm went off. I seriously considered smashing it and going right back to sleep, but Jacy and I were supposed to meet with the antique-store owner that afternoon. Besides, I hadn't talked to Novak since the night of the party and needed to run over the case with him. I felt I was missing something important, and talking about it with someone who understood often helped me see things more clearly.

After a shower, I felt almost human again. A couple of cups of coffee later, I was ready to tackle the drive to work. I found Novak in his office when I arrived. I tapped on his doorframe.

He looked up from the file he was reading and gave me a crooked smile. "Howdy, Pardner."

I felt a grin spread across my face. "I can't believe you all kept that from me so well. Some detective I am."

"It wasn't really too hard. You've been totally wrapped up in your case."

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." I dropped into one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"You need a sounding board?"

"Yeah. A lot has happened lately, and I can't help but think I'm missing something."

He looked at his watch. "I've got an appointment in an hour, but feel free to sound away until then. Do you have any suspects yet?"

"About as many as I started with, which is pretty much everyone involved. I haven't done a very good job of narrowing the field."

"So run down the list with me. Who are the possible suspects, and why haven't they been crossed off?"

"Well, first there's Elyse Pike. I understand from speaking to Professor Howard that archaeology is still something of a good-old-boys club. Healy overshadowed Elyse professionally, even though Professor Howard said she thought Elyse was as good an archaeologist as Healy. Elyse could have killed Healy in order to advance her career."

"In that case, wouldn’t the lootings and the killings be completely separate?"

"Not necessarily. Elyse could have been stealing the artifacts in order to discredit Healy before she resorted to killing him."

"Then why bother continuing the looting after his death?"

"To be honest, I don't really suspect Elyse. I just haven't been able to rule her out."

"Fair enough. Who's next?"

"Well, it's Elyse again actually, but with or without her lover, Susan Urban."

Novak's left eyebrow leaped up his forehead. "Explanation, please."

"Elyse and Susan are dating. Susan was Healy's student — a graduate student, to be exact. Elyse says she and Susan became friends and, eventually, fell for each other. Healy found out somehow and ordered them to end their relationship."

"Was it an ultimatum, or did he just expect them to stop seeing each other?"

"Elyse didn't mention an ultimatum, but then, I suppose it would have been in her best interest not to."

"And the same question arises about why they would continue looting the site once Healy was out of the way."

"Maybe to throw suspicion away from themselves. Or I guess the looting and Healy's murder could be unconnected."

"Then how would you explain the girl's murder?"

"Bridget Foxwell? What if the two murders were unconnected as well? Healy was killed by Elyse and/or Susan for either career advancement or to protect their relationship. Then Bridget was killed by a spooked looter who came armed after Healy's murder."

"I suppose that's possible, but it would be a mighty big coincidence."

"The murders were very dissimilar. Healy was stabbed to death in what seems to have been a crime of passion, while Bridget was shot."

"Eh. I just don't like coincidences. Who else do you have?"

"Virgil McClain."

"Who is he?"

"He's an Indian-artifact collector with somewhat loose standards as to how he acquires his pieces."

"You actually think he'd kill someone just to add some stones to his collection?"

"He's pretty unsavory, and some of those stones are quite valuable, but no, I really don't. He's just another one of those people I haven't been able to cross off the list with any certainty."

"Next."

"There's Gordon Wallace or some other unknown member or members of the tribe who were opposed to the excavation."

"I can see the looting, maybe, but do you think they'd kill to stop the project?"

"If it had stopped with Healy, then yeah, I could see it — especially if it was a crime of passion, as it appeared to be. They might have kept up the looting after Healy's death just to ensure the project didn't reopen under Elyse. I can even stretch it so far as to imagine them killing Bridget in a panic if she stumbled across them in the act. The one thing that doesn't fit is the disturbance of the grave. No self-respecting member of the tribe would violate their ancestors' resting place that way."

"You've talked to the council and they agree?"

"Yeah. I even talked to Wallace. He's a jerk, but I don't think he would go that far."

"I'm inclined to agree with you, but never forget that human beings possess the extraordinary ability to justify even the most indefensible actions if they believe they are in the right."

"So in other words, don't cross them off the list."

"You're really not getting very far, are you?"

"You're supposed to be helping me, not discouraging me."

He laughed. "Anyone else?"

"Technically, there's Jacy. Although the police still seem to suspect him, there's no hard evidence besides the knife to tie him to any of the crimes, and he still maintains he lost his knife during the scuffle with Healy. I just don't think he had anything to do with it. Call it instinct. Other than that, I suppose there's always the unknown suspect with an unknown motive — someone I haven't even thought of or run across yet."

"I agree with your original assessment. You're missing something."

"Great. Would you please fill me in?"

"Sometimes you have to start with motive and work your way back to the suspect."

"You can't just tell me? You have to make it a riddle?"

"Use those little gray cells."

I sighed. "What do you think I've been doing? I stayed up most of the night trying to figure this out. I know I'm missing something obvious, but if I knew what it was, I wouldn't be here asking you. I feel like I can't see the forest for the trees."

"What's the most common motive for crime?"

"Greed?"

"Bingo. Who stands to gain the most from Healy's death? Or, who stands to profit from looting the site? I suspect everything stems from the looting, so that's the avenue I'd pursue first."

"I checked out a shady antique store that sells artifacts. We didn't see anything that jumped out, but Jacy told the owner he's looking for something unique. We're supposed to go back to the store this afternoon to see some rarer pieces. Not that we know what we're looking for. I wish we could take Elyse along with us."

"Even though you don't feel Elyse is the killer, you don't have any proof of it, so technically she's still a suspect. If she is the one who was looting the site and she's selling the artifacts to this dealer, you don't want to tip her off."

"It's so frustrating! This place could be selling the stolen artifacts right under our noses and we wouldn't know."

"What about the professor who called you at your surprise party? Could she help you?"

"Professor Howard? Maybe, but then we still have to figure out how to get her in there to see them without arousing suspicion."

"If you can't take Mohammad to the mountain..."

"Huh? I can't just walk out with the artifacts."

"No, but you could take photographs and show them to your expert."

"What am I supposed to do? Barge in and start snapping away with my trusty cell phone?"

"No. You use this." He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a small rectangular case. "I just bought this, so if you break it you can forget your big promotion."

"What is it?"

"My latest toy." He opened the case to reveal a black ink pen.

"A pen?"

"It's a video camera."

"Whoa! That's so cool. How does it work?"

"The lens is right here," he said, pointing to a tiny dot near the top of the pen. "It also has a built-in microphone, not that I imagine you'll need that feature for this case. It stores the video right in the pen." He unscrewed the pen to reveal a mini memory card. "When you're done, you can just download the footage onto any computer using the USB cord."

"So I just clip it on my shirt and it will record everything we see?"

"More or less. The batteries will only last for about an hour and a half before it has to be recharged."

"That should be plenty of time."

"You do realize this is only part of the solution, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Even if Professor Howard confirms that they are definitely selling the stolen artifacts — which she may not be able to do despite the video — you still won't know who stole the damn things in the first place."

"I could turn the case over to the police at that point."

"And maybe the owner tells the police who sold him the stolen goods. They still won't have any way of connecting the thief to the murders."

"So you think I should figure it out for myself and then go to the police?"

"I think you should have a little more solid information to take to them before you go — ideally, something that connects the thefts with the murders. Aside from a signed confession, though, I don't know what it might be."

"I guess if I find out the antique dealer is selling stolen artifacts, I could set up surveillance on the store to see who he's getting them from."

"You're assuming the thief brings the pieces directly to the store and the owner doesn’t meet him somewhere for the transaction."

I sighed. "This is all so complicated."

Novak stood up and ruffled my hair as he walked by. "You'll figure it out. I have faith in you or I wouldn't have made you my partner. Come on. Grab the pen. We'll run a test with it so you can learn how it works before my appointment."

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