When David Died: A True Story

by John Locke

  But I managed to stay several steps ahead of them. The very day Alison and I had our talk in her hotel room I set her up by claiming I kept the $1.2 million for myself. I knew if she planned to shaft me, she’d use that to get Detective Broadus’s attention. And I also knew it would hurt her credibility once I proved I never kept the money.

  Why didn’t I keep it?

  Too risky. It might have been construed as blackmail. Before David killed himself my plan was to live with Michael and never tell him about the $1.2 million, much less the other $800,000 David still owed me. I was going to withdraw the gains on that mutual fund over time, along with some of the principal. With any luck, Michael would live his entire life without knowing about the money, because I controlled it. After all, I had the password and account number, not him.

  But when David died, all my plans went up in smoke. And when Jessie revealed her intentions I discovered I really cared for her. And by the way, she stands to inherit a fortune of her own, so that opens the door to lots of possibilities.

  As for Alison’s sting, and the police raid, I saw it coming a mile away. I’ve never trusted the police. Not only that, but Jess told me her mom confronted her about us. So we devised this plan: Jess told her if I really did say those things I must have been fantasizing it. She then offered to prove she was still a virgin. Alison said, “I’m happy to hear that. But it doesn’t prove you weren’t molested.” To hedge her bet, she forbade Jessie to ever see me or speak my name again. Then last week, one of my neighbors informed me that a police detective asked him if he’d ever seen me with a man that matched David’s description, or if he’d ever seen the various rental cars David had driven to my house those weeks.

  My neighbor told them nothing. He hates the cops more than I do.

  So anyway, Alison tried to set me up. And you can say anything you want about me, but she’s the real villain in all of this. She’s the one who gave me up at birth. What sort of mother doesn’t want her own child? She’s also the one who treated David with indifference. After giving her the most amazing life a woman could ever hope to have, she treated him like shit and had a long-term affair with his married insurance agent. She also cussed me out in the hotel and said she’d seen enough of me for a lifetime. Then she tried to slap me. Then she forbade Jess and me to see each other…and finally, she tried to set me up with the cops.

  Everything Alison has was given to her by my father, and now she stands to inherit the bulk of his estate, even though she’s been cheating on him all this time. This bitch never worked a day in her life, never earned any portion of what she now has, or what she stands to inherit. Most importantly, she hasn’t had to suffer a day in her life!

  Because of that, and because of how she tried to fuck me over, I’m gonna have to punish her. I won’t do it immediately, but rest assured Alison Thorne is gonna have to deal with me some day, after everyone’s forgotten about these events.

  5.

  Two Years Later

  ALISON PULLS INTO her driveway shortly after ten p.m., having enjoyed a night out with friends. She parks her car in the garage, enters her house carrying a wedge of birthday cake, and sets the alarm. She places the cake in the refrigerator, then walks to her bedroom, thinking she’s alone in her giant house.

  But she’s not.

  As she enters her closet to change into her pajamas, a large man comes up behind her and puts his hand over her mouth and drags her back into the bedroom. He throws her to the floor, pins her down, puts a knife to her throat and tells her to shut the fuck up.

  It’s not hard to find men such as these. Times are tough for many, and evil people are a dime a dozen if you know where to look.

  As he proceeds to brutally rape her she hears a light tapping at her bedroom door, and a woman’s voice says, “Happy birthday. I love you.”

  She knows the voice is mine, and that her nightmare is just beginning.

  THE END…But Please Keep Reading!

  Author’s Note:

  AS I MENTIONED earlier, I met a woman who claimed to be the real-life Nicki.

  I’ve been asked but won’t reveal if I paid her for telling me her version of the story, and here’s why: if I didn’t pay her you’d question why she was willing to tell me so much; and if I did pay her, you’d question her veracity. So let’s just say she was very forth-coming for reasons of her own. She’s the one who told me the rumor about Alison being sexually assaulted for nearly six hours on the night of her 40th birthday, and I took the considerable liberty of adding the “artistic touch” that the perpetrator was hired by Nicki herself, which I’m sure will piss her off if she ever reads this account. Likewise, the tapping at the door was my creation, and if it didn’t happen that way, I feel as though it should have.

  Those of you familiar with the true story will certainly question my stating as fact that Nicki Hill had a full-blown affair with her biological father. That was widely believed, but never proven, though Nicki herself claimed it happened, and took full credit for introducing David to the world of erotic and autoerotic asphyxiation.

  Another note about my “artistic” ending: although I believe 90% of Nicki’s comments, she’s not the most reliable source I could hope for, and I have to confess that Alison never reported the six-hour ordeal she allegedly suffered at the hands of Nicki’s hired goon. For this reason, it’s possible the prolonged assault may not have actually occurred. However, her children and closest friends are convinced something of consequence happened that night, as she refused to be seen by anyone—including her housekeeper—for three-and-a-half days. Nor would she accept phone calls. And while she never spoke of any sort of incident, her daughter Jessie says her mom was never the same after that night.

  While I’ve done extensive research on the real-life characters who populate this story, there’s a limit to what I can reveal without compromising their privacy. But I will tell you this much:

  Detectives Broadus (retired) and Rudd (active):

  I have no updates to share with you on these guys because, quite frankly, I didn’t want them to catch wind that I’ve been poking around in their old case. Broadus was a bulldog investigator, and I’d just as soon not have to explain how much I know or how I obtained the information (He’s recently retired and has too much time on his hands!) I do know he and Rudd never found any physical evidence that David Thorne had ever been present in Nicki’s rental home, and therefore the 45.8-mile rental car mileage discovery (which I considered brilliant) was not something they could positively link to her. That said, I’m sure if you asked Detective Broadus he’d say he’s convinced to this day that Nicki had an affair with her biological father and attempted to blackmail him as a result.

  Arthur Blass:

  I seriously wanted to refer to Mr. Blass as Mr. Balls and had to fight the urge to do so. This, because in real life the man’s unfortunate name is closely linked to male genitalia, and that’s all I’ll say about that! I know for a fact that Alison relied heavily on Mr. Blass to help her get the insurance company to reverse their initial in-house denial of the accidental death portion of the claim. From what I gather he convinced them that between Alison’s considerable wealth and highly-connected political friends, the company would almost certainly get “home-towned” if they found themselves in court trying to justify their refusal to pay the claim. After making several unsuccessful attempts to settle for a lesser amount, the insurance company finally held its nose and wrote the check.

  Arthur Blass didn’t fare nearly as well. Hopelessly in love with Alison, he asked his wife of eight years for a divorce, and she fought him tooth and nail and wound up with a large chunk of his net worth, including their house. As he removed his tools and other personal effects from the garage cabinets, he overlooked a quarter that had fallen to the floor (I originally wrote “shiny” quarter, but I have no proof of its condition). But what makes the quarter important is Mr. Blass had previously installed an expensive coating to the surface of his garage floor that
made it easy to clean, but quite slippery when any object such as a dog bone, ink pen, or piece of pocket change gets caught under a person’s shoe. Blass slipped on the quarter, hit the back of his head full force, suffered a stroke, and died either two or three days later, depending on whether you believe the coroner’s report (two days), the obituary (three days), or the family’s recollection (three days). I don’t have a clue why there’s a discrepancy about the man’s date of death, and to be honest, I don’t care enough about it to pursue it further.

  Alison Thorne:

  Apart from what may or may not have happened to her the night of her 40th birthday, Alison’s life is still pretty cozy. She obviously never married Arthur Blass, because even in Kentucky it’s considered poor form to marry a dead guy (though it’s not without precedent). She inherited an undisclosed sum that’s rumored to be in excess of $60 million, and occupies a portion of her weekly hours by serving on charity committees.

  I know you want more details, but she’s pretty high profile, and I don’t need the legal hassles. But I will say this: if you were to ask me if in real life Alison is a well-known breeder of horses (not personally, but through her affiliation with a well-known horse farm) I won’t dispute it.

  As I revealed earlier, when I attempted to contact Alison, her attorneys threatened me with a lawsuit. I pretended to be intimidated, to keep them from filing a cease-and-desist. After giving her kids the impression I hadn’t started writing this story and was, in fact, backing away from the project…everything quieted down. I put out the word I was working on my next Western to throw them off the scent. And now—if you’re reading these words—you’ll know I was able to publish this book before they thought to get an injunction to prevent it.

  Alison, if somehow this book makes its way into your hands and you tell your socialite friends it’s unflattering and one-sided, well…you had your chance to go on the record, and didn’t. I certainly would have given you the opportunity to tell your side of the story, but no, you decided to unleash your attorney hounds on me. That said, I think we both know the account I’ve written in these pages is awfully close to the truth. As for the alleged birthday assault, I would have treated you fairly: you could have simply denied it or refused to comment, and I would have printed whatever you chose to say.

  Michael Thorne:

  Michael helped Nicki’s reputation by downplaying their previous public displays of affection and denying any sexual activity occurred between them. Like Nicki, he claimed they were basically roommates, and though they occasionally “kidded around” in public and had seen each other in various states of undress in his apartment, they slept in separate bedrooms and never engaged in any form of sexual activity. For purposes of this story, I stuck with Nicki’s account, since to me it passes the smell test (and makes for a better story!) All jokes aside, the detectives were so convinced Nicki and Michael engaged in sexual activity they stated it as a fact in their final report.

  Michael claims he was never head-over-heels in love with Nicki, and disputes her assertion that he pressured her to marry him. He was extremely pissed at me for reporting her claim that he raped her the night of his father’s death. He called me an “asshole,” a “filthy piece of shit,” and refused to write a blurb for my book cover. But he did verify my educated guess he inherited approximately $10 million from his father’s estate.

  Despite his harsh feelings for me, I found Michael to be well-adjusted, and more intelligent than Nicki made him seem. I was pleased to learn that shortly after their final breakup, he met a nice southern debutante from a legacy family, married her, and continues to live in the same city I described as Lexington, Kentucky. As I write these words, they’re expecting their first child, a daughter, whose imminent arrival should precede the publishing of this book (I decided not to ask if they planned to keep her!)

  Jessie (Jess) Thorne:

  Alison was right about Jessie and Nicki’s relationship. Despite her promises to the contrary, Jessie’s feelings for Nicki crashed and burned long before her 17th birthday. I’d tell you Nicki’s version as to why that happened, but it’s pretty far-fetched and self-serving compared to Jessie’s. Then again, if you know anything about Nicki, her calling card is that nothing that ever happens to her is her fault.

  Although Jessie refused to discuss her personal relationship with Nicki, according to one of her close friends (who wishes to remain anonymous), Jessie was never in love with Nicki, but developed a crush on her during a time in her adolescence when she was confused about her sexuality. According to the friend, Jessie and Nicki’s sexual play never progressed beyond a PG rating (again, I sided with Nicki’s version because it makes sense Jessie would downplay her sexual involvement to her friends. That said, I do believe the part about the crush versus Nicki’s insistence that Jessie loved her deeply. I think Nicki was probably projecting).

  About six months after her father’s death, Jessie met a guy and fell in love and they dated throughout her senior year of high school. After graduating they attended different colleges and are no longer seeing each other. Jessie says her inheritance matches Michael’s, however, she disputes that the sum was “approximately ten million.” She claims it was “closer to eight”, though she concedes Michael might be including the $1.2 million Nicki transferred to his account.

  My discussions with Jessie were phone-only, but based on her numerous Facebook photos I can verify her looks are every bit as striking as Nicki portrayed them in our meeting. She, too, seems well-adjusted, and her future appears secure.

  Nicki Hill:

  Despite all that happened, I can’t help but come away with warm feelings for Nicki. The worst abuses she claimed to suffer in foster care apparently did occur (though I couldn’t find any evidence to support her claim that one of her foster fathers murdered anyone, much less another foster child. Nicki attributes this to a police cover up, but that’s simply not true. When I asked her to tell me the girl’s name she claimed she couldn’t remember. And yet it was supposed to be her “best friend” at the time. So I know for a fact that part of the story was embellished. Nevertheless, I took the time to investigate it, and I did find that one of her foster fathers sexually assaulted and severely beat one of the girls in his care, and she spent two days in a hospital. Though her injuries were listed as “severe” they weren’t at any time down-graded to “life-threatening.” Still, I’m sure it had a traumatic effect on Nicki, who was living in the house at the time).

  Two of Nicki’s foster fathers were arrested. One served (and is currently serving) time for crimes against children (he’s the one who beat the young lady in question) and the other is a registered sex offender. Although she may have embellished a few details, Nicki’s stories are generally true, and horrific, and anyone who can move forward from that sort of abuse is okay in my “book.” I obviously don’t condone everything (or hardly anything) she did, but in my heart I believe she got a raw deal from her shitty parents, David and Alison, and I can understand why she felt betrayed. I also understand why she did what she did, after gaining an understanding of how she interprets sexuality as currency, and how she seems able to mentally divorce herself from societal conventions.

  Nicki refused to say how she learned so much about erotic asphyxiation, and when I try to picture how she gained that knowledge my mind goes to a dark place. She asked if I ever tried it and I jokingly said “No, but you sure make it sound like a good time!” That’s when she told me something interesting that happened the first time she used the hangman’s noose on David (I didn’t put it in the main story because I thought it would be more interesting if I revealed it here, after the fact).

  She said at one point David’s knees buckled on the platform and his body sagged and he started choking to death and “it was as if he had no bones in his legs!” She said, “I couldn’t get his legs to hold his body up!” In a panic, she got her shoulder under his thighs and tried to lift him, but when she did, the noose “wouldn’t open the slight
est bit.” Unable to get his legs working, she made the decision to let go of him, at which point “David was literally hanging to death!”

  According to Nicki, she grabbed a bar stool from the kitchen and positioned it behind David’s body so that the seat was about a foot higher than his butt. She worked her shoulder under his legs again and managed to get him on the barstool, which gave her about a foot of slack in the rope to work with. When she finally got the rope off his neck he told her he never lost consciousness and was completely aware of everything that happened during the ordeal, though at the time he was unable to speak or move his arms or legs. As Nicki apologized profusely, she claims David said it was the most exciting moment of his entire life and asked if they could do it again right then and there. Nicki refused, but said they did repeat the procedure a couple of times during future visits, but only after making sure the bar stool was always within arm’s length.

  After a long, bitter legal battle to claim what she considered to be her fair portion of her father’s estate, Nicki once again came out on the short end of the stick. After legal fees she said she wound up with less than a million dollars. Both Michael and Jessie dispute that claim, saying she got closer to two million before attorney fees and the gift taxes the IRS forced her to pay. After all expenses, they believe she netted about…get ready for it…one-point-two million dollars!

  —And that’s the truth!

  Thanks for reading my book!

  John Locke

  7/13/16

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