by Dan Glover
Chapter 14—Visitors
(Good Riddance)
1
He wondered how they found him. After all these years, two dicks show up at his door asking about the Picany twins. Hell, he'd nearly forgotten that he ever knew the girls. Every once in a while he might dream about them, of all the fun they had, that he'd had, but mostly he never gave either of them a thought.
The guy was a fag. He could tell right off, just by the way he dressed, the way he comported himself, the cut of his hair. The woman looked like she belonged in a titty bar, fine fox of a girl, but there was something just a little off about her... like there might be a lie in her fire. Closet alcoholic, pill popper maybe... either way, damaged goods.
"Thomas Johm?"
"Yes... that's right... and you are?"
"I'm Liza McNairy. This is my partner, Danners Forthright. We're private detectives hired by the family to look into a missing person's case. Twin girls. Missy and Melinda Picany. Disappeared roughly twenty years ago. We understand you dated one or both of them."
"Jesus... I have no idea what you're talking about. Twenty years ago? Who told you I had anything to do with them?"
"So you didn’t know the twins, Mr. Johm?"
"Are you two with the police, Mr.?"
"No... we're private detectives, sir. Danners Forthright. We were led to believe you knew both girls right around the time they vanished. Our records indicate the police talked to you about it. Brought you and a friend in for questioning. Jonathan Baker. Do you remember now?"
"What were the girls' names again?"
"Missy and Melinda Picany. Lived in Santa Monica. Hung out down at the beach a lot. Surfers."
"Sure, sure... now I remember... the surfer twins. That's what we all called them. I knew 'em, sure. So did lots of other guys. I told the police everything I knew."
"We understand that, sir. We're just touching all the bases, that's why we're here. Now that you remember, maybe you wouldn’t mind answering some of our questions?"
"Look, Danners, Mr. Forthright... I'm busy. Maybe if you two want to make an appointment I'll see if I can fit you into my schedule."
"What is it you do, Mr. Johm?"
"I'm a photographer, Ms. McNairy. High end. I have six shoots scheduled for this afternoon, each one probably paying more than you make in a month."
She raised her left eyebrow in a practiced manner that made him realize just how gorgeous she really was. Great body, fantastic ass, natural platinum blonde hair—except for that weird streak of red, he hated when women did that to themselves... it just looked stupid—superb bone structure and not one of those bimbos either, despite the streak. Smart. She knew exactly what affect she had on men and she used it to her advantage.
Then it clicked. Hell, he knew her. Well, knew of her. She made a living tracking down old bones, cold cases long unsolved. Families hired her and the fag to help them when the police gave up. The queer was some kind of psychic... the girl a former police officer. They had connections. Worked all up and down the coast. He'd even seen them on television, on the daytime talk shows like Dr. Phil.
"How's your schedule look for early next week, Mr. Johm?"
"I'm booked up months in advance, Danners... Mr. Forthright."
"I see. This won't take long. Fifteen minutes, maybe less, depending on how forthcoming you are. We could always just drop back in."
Jesus... they weren’t going quietly. Not like he hoped. Usually his sullen demeanor worked wonders at pushing away unwanted visitors. But these two were practiced. In their line of work they probably ran into a lot of people not wanting to talk. As in other circumstances, persistence was the key to success. They'd just keep hammering at his door until he finally gave them what they wanted.
Thomas Johm was like that... the real Thomas Johm, now long dead. As Jonathan Baker, he'd purposely cultivated a friendship with the boy
2
Despite the revulsion he felt each time they interacted. Of course that made things easier in the end, when the cops were closing in and even the Captain couldn’t stop the investigation from running its course. Getting Johm drunk wasn’t a problem. The kid had a disease. See a bottle, drink it, and get behind the wheel. Same sad story. Say goodbye to Jonathan Baker, prime suspect in a double kidnapping, and hello to the new and improved Thomas Johm.
The thing was, he couldn’t remember Johm ever being interviewed by the police. Could be he was, but most times the kid would brag about exploits like that... how he lied his way out of another one. That's one of the things he hated about him. Always full of bluster over nothing. But Jonathan Baker had been interviewed. That's what caught him off guard when the fag confronted him with that fact. Dammit. He should've slammed the door in their faces as soon as he knew who they were and what they wanted. Tell them to speak to his attorney.
The fag lied to him and he fell for it. Right smack on his face. And now they were pressing in for the kill. What did they know? Had a new witness come forward? Even though it'd been twenty years, it was possible. Hell, everyone knew the twins back then. Popular girls. And he'd been with them both plenty of times, in public places where a lot of people might remember seeing them together. Only back then, he was a different person than he was now.
This visit by McNairy and Forthright seemed a lot more ominous when he thought about it. Trouble was brewing... the kind that the Captain couldn’t sweep away. In fact, if he got wind of this, the man might well be sending his own minions to pay Thomas Johm a call. Better to try and end this now and on his own.
"Tell you what, Ms. McNairy... can you come back after six tonight? I'll be wrapping up by then. I don’t have anything to hide."
"Good... six o'clock it is then. Come on, Danners."
There... that might just do it. Yeah, that name: Jonathan Baker. He wondered if the shock registered on his face. Probably not... otherwise he doubted that those dicks would've gone away without asking a lot more questions. Did they suspect? Again, he had to say no. How could they? All that happened so long ago no one cared anyhow. Hell, even the real Johm's father was happy once he had a fist full of dollars in his pockets.
3
He watched them as they walked away. Man, oh man, but that Liza McNairy had some shake in her bake. And he was mistaken about the coloring. He could swear that the streak of red in her hair was natural. So was the blonde. He'd never seen that sort of thing before. Some type of birth defect, perhaps. Being a professional photographer had taught him that platinum blondes were rare, but true red-heads even rarer. Most all of them came in a bottle. Not McNairy, though. What were the odds of a single woman carrying both genotypes? Astronomical.
She'd be interesting to get to know better. Not so much the queer, however. There was something about that man that disconcerted him. A look in his eyes, maybe. Despite his pansy appearance the guy could be dangerous if fucked with. He'd probably been bullied most of his life. Learned some tricks to deal with it. Danners Forthright was not a man to screw around with. Especially if he thought his partner was in trouble.
He should've asked for their phone number. He'd call and postpone the appointment. Maybe he ought to not be here when they showed up at six. They'd only wait. Come back later, certainly. Maybe with company. No... it was better to get it over with. He'd give his girl a little sleeping aid. Knock her out. Otherwise she might wander in on them while they were talking and he didn’t need that. Not now. Not when his latest surgery had proven so successful.
Maybe he ought to contact the Captain... let him know what was up. Could be those dicky ducks were on his trail too. But the man hated being disturbed, especially over something that might or might not be of concern. He could always get in touch with the Captain's underling but that man gave him the jitters... something unsavory about him... like he'd do someone dirty just for kicks.
He had an idea, a spark going off in the back of his mind. Speaking of mickeys, he wondered what Liza McNairy might be like. Totally submissive, open to h
is every suggestion. Could be fun. Sort of killing two birds with the one proverbial stone, as it were. And he doubted anyone would miss Danners—Mr. Forthright—too awful much. Fucking fag. Yes, when one door opened, another always closed.
Chapter 15—Plans
(And Other Lovers)
1
"Don't wait supper for me tonight, Sally. I'll be late again."
Sure he would. As if she expected anything different. Most times he didn’t even bother with letting her know. He simply didn’t come home. Yeah. The man must have plans again tonight. That was okay, though. She had some of her own. She was tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Time to get busy kicking that motherfucker off her foot even if it left a hole in the wall.
Sure, she knew Hank slept around but the knowing didn’t make things easier. Granted, Sally had quit taking care of herself after the last kid but Hank hadn’t helped... not with that cop attitude of his. Was he back on that old Picany case again? It seemed like every time that one came up again he'd get together with Paula.
They went way back. Sally used to watch the twins when they were kids... took them to the doctor when they got sick... to that pervert, Oscar Olay. Always trying to peek down her blouse. Paula was too busy being someone in the world, someone important, like Hank. No one had to tell her what happened the day those two girls disappeared. She knew something was up. In fact she could have given the police some pointers on how to find them but no one thought to ask and she'd be damned if she was going to offer the information. They'd claim she had something to do with it.
She wasn’t stupid, not like everyone seemed to think. Poor fat Sally... good for nothing but pumping out babies and watching them grow. While Hank was out screwing half of Los Angeles, she was expected to be the good wife, to stay home and cater to the kids... wipe their smelly asses and change their shitty diapers.
He had no idea that she knew about his philandering, of course. What good would it do to tell him? No good. Oh, by the way, sweetie... I know you're screwing the mother of those twins who disappeared. No... better to leave things unsaid... let it burn out like his affairs always did. The kids all doted on their father, God only knew why. All grown now... living in three different states and so of course she never got to see the grandkids. One of these days, Hank would say... one of these days I'll take some vacation time and we'll go on a road trip.
Still, it wasn’t as if she was a shut-in. She went out occasionally, if only to visit her mother in the nursing home. The poor old thing had fallen... laid there over a day before a neighbor happened to hear her crying out. Otherwise they might well be planning a funeral rather than trying to get her settled into The Grove.
The Grove... it sounded like a green leafy place to go for a summer picnic where bunny rabbits cavorted with baby deer and the sun smiled down on everyone. But no... it was the place people went to die. The hallways smelled of bleach and sour piss and everyone was too happy... the staff. They were hiding a great truth. But mother knew it. She just turned seventy last month... had always been healthy, until the fall and the subsequent diagnosis. So now Sally felt duty bound to visit the old woman daily to salve her fears and to quench her own guilty conscience at not being there sooner.
She knew she couldn’t confront Hank or Paula outright. But she might be able to make things more difficult for the two of them to continue seeing one another. Did it really matter all that much, though? She supposed she was lucky Hank hadn’t asked for a divorce. It was probably the thoughts of the children and how they'd react that kept him here. What would they all say? She really ought to tell him she started to use that gym membership he gave her as a Valentine's Day gift... began working out... to get back into shape, as if he really thought that would ever happen.
When had everything gotten so out of control? She'd never liked Paula Picany. When Hank had the woman call her to babysit her twin brats, she should have told her no. Instead, like the docile cow she was, she agreed. It wasn’t like they needed the money. She had no idea a detective made that kind of salary... originally—in her ignorance—she thought how her husband was obviously someone high up in the organization to pull down such enormous paychecks. They wanted for nothing. Yet in the end it was all a pretense. His job with the Sheriff's Department was little more than a cover-up for his real work. She should've known right off.
"I'm not signing up for another stint in the Navy, Sally. I've got my twenty years in... time to retire."
The thing was, she liked being a Navy wife. But the look on Hank's face told her to shelve those feelings... to don a smile and commend the man for making a decision she'd rather he didn’t.
"That's wonderful, Hank! Maybe we can do some of that traveling we always talked about."
"We sure will, Sally... just you wait."
And so
2
She did. She waited a while, and then she waited a while more. She believed him. Hank wouldn’t tell her something if he didn’t mean it. Sally would've followed the man to the moon if that's where he wanted to go. Thinking back on those first years together, she wondered how she could've been so naïve. She supposed she was young and dumb and only saw what she wanted to see... only heard the words she expected. The worst of it was, mother had warned her about the man.
"I see too much of your father in Hank, Sally. If you end up marrying him, you'll rue the day."
"Don't say that, mother... you don't know Hank like I do."
Sally grew up without a father. The man left before she ever got a chance to know him. Of course mother filled in all the missing blanks, never failing to let Sally know how her father wasn’t much on working and even less on playing the good husband. It wasn’t until after she'd grown up and married Hank Lupo and mother had taken that fall that Sally discovered all the old letters her father had sent to his daughter... mother clandestinely kept them from her... why? She didn’t want to think mother was simply being cruel but when she confronted the woman about the letters, she acted as if she didn’t remember them.
Maybe the woman was upset at having to go into the nursing home, but that wasn’t Sally's fault. Mother couldn’t very well move into the Lupo home, not after the way she'd treated Hank. Mother refused to speak to him for the first five years of their marriage. You'll see, Sally... that man is good for nothing other than chasing skirt. After the grandchildren were born, mother made an effort at reconciling with her son in law but by then Hank wanted nothing to do with the woman. Not that Sally blamed him.
When mother had her accident—fell and broke her hip—no one was around to help her. There was a reason for that. Mother had consistently driven away what few friends she had over the course of time, and family? Forget about it. Even the grandchildren shunned her.
"I want to ask you a favor, Sally."
"What is it, mother."
She knew what it was well before mother brought it up. The doctor said she needed a place to stay while she recuperated from surgery to repair her shattered hip. And where better than dutiful Sally's beautiful home?
"The doctor tells me I'll need to have access to around the clock care when I'm discharged from here. Could I come live with you and Hank?"
Oh sure you can, mother. Absolutely. Just let me tell Hank. He'll love that shit. Yep. Now that mother needed him, suddenly Hank became a Godsend rather than a rascal. It must have cost her a lot of pride to ask that of Sally. For just a fleeting moment, she considered agreeing to mother's request. But that moment soon passed her by.
"I'm afraid that wouldn’t work, mother. I'm sorry."
"But you're all I have, Sally. Think of all the years I sacrificed for you... and now, when I need help, you turn me down? It's that man you married. I told you he'd come between us."
"I'm not turning you down. And no, Hank doesn’t know anything about this and I'm not asking him. We simply don’t have the room for you. Besides, I've already arranged a place for you to stay... you'll love it, mother. It's called The Grove. It's so pretty!
Lots of people your age live there. You'll fit right in."
"You're sticking me in a nursing home. I should've known it'd come to this. You were always an ungrateful child."
"No, mother... it's an assisted living center. You'll have your own apartment. You'll be comfortable there. Happy. You'll see."
"And what about my house, Sally? I suppose you'll grab that for yourself."
"No, mother. The house will be there for you when you're able to manage on your own again."
Only mother would never manage on her own again... at least not in this life. Sally knew it and so did she. Seventy year old women don’t generally have a sudden and miraculous transformation back to the days of their youth. And like every bad thing that ever happened to her, mother blamed Sally. But Christ, she had enough of taking care of others. It was her time now.
3
"Could you do me a favor, Sally?"
Why was she the one everybody came to when they needed someone? Because they knew they could count on Sally... that's why. She was the steady one. The rock. While all about her were losing their heads and running in circles screaming and shouting, she alone prevailed... the last bastion of sanity.
"You know I will, Hank... what is it?"
The man rarely asked for anything other than to have his breakfast ready in the morning. Sex? Forget about it. Date night? Nah. Not Hank. Still, there for just a moment she wondered if he'd decided to surprise her with a trip to somewhere exotic... that he was going to ask her to call the travel agency and set it all up. But of course not... Hank had other ideas in mind.
"Remember Paula Picany? She's working now. Allen called me the other day and asked if I knew of any good babysitters for the twins. It'd only be a few hours a day, and he'd drop them off here."
So why did Hank suddenly decide she should take up day care? It wasn’t like she didn’t have three kids of her own to watch. Because of Paula, of course. At the time, she didn’t realize they were carrying on behind everyone's backs. She'd been blind, like Allen. Even now she felt like calling Allen Picany up and making a date with the man. Just to get back at Hank and Paula. From what she'd heard, though, he drank morning, noon, and nighty night-night.