by Becky Durfee
Looking toward the street, Isabelle noted, “I remember the slim fellow’s car. It was red. I don’t see it here.”
Jenny also scanned the road for the car, but she didn’t see it either. “Yeah, I guess he’s not here. We’ll have to come back another time.”
“Can’t you send one of the guys instead?” Isabelle posed as they headed back to the car. “Or just call?”
Jenny shook her head. “I don’t know exactly where the journal is,” she explained. “I’d need to be inside the house so Patricia can point it out.”
Both women opened their car doors and climbed in. Jenny continued to speak. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier. Patricia has been leading me to the journal all along.”
“I think I’m going to buy you some Mace.” Isabelle said as she closed her car door. “You deal with some pretty sketchy characters.”
“Who, Slim?” Jenny started the car. “He may not be sketchy. We don’t know a thing about him. For all we know he teaches preschool.”
“With pants like that? I highly doubt it.”
“You’re being judgmental.”
“Well, when the safety of your child is concerned, it’s better to be judgmental than unsafe.”
Jenny stopped arguing. She would probably end up acting the same way with her own child, so she decided to cut her mother some slack.
“So you think the journal is in there?” Isabelle continued as they headed home. “Why wouldn’t Patricia have taken it with her when she moved?”
“She didn’t move,” Jenny reminded her. “She was killed while she still lived here. Aaron and Brian moved afterward. If the journal was hidden somewhere, like on a ceiling beam or something, and they didn’t know it existed, they may not have brought it with them.”
Isabelle contemplated the comment before switching gears. “So what do you plan to say to this slim fellow if you talk to him?”
Jenny shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll just tell him the truth—ask if I can go inside and try to get a reading.” She turned toward her mother. “I don’t know why he’d have a problem with that. He must know that the house he owns once belonged to a missing woman.”
“I think you have a little too much faith in people sometimes,” Isabelle said with a shake of her head. “Don’t get me wrong, your innocence is a beautiful quality, but it might end up getting you hurt. Especially in your new line of work.”
Jenny shrugged. Perhaps she did assume most people had good intentions, and maybe that would get her in trouble from time to time, but she couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her life assuming everyone was evil. That would be no way to live. She’d just have to take her chances.
At that moment her cell phone rang. As Jenny reached for her phone, Isabelle said, “Don’t get that, dear. You’re driving.”
Jenny’s expression grew flat as she reached into her purse and handed the phone to her mother. Isabelle took it and asked, “How do I answer it? This isn’t like my phone.”
“Touch the screen,” Jenny replied. “Where the picture of the phone is.”
Isabelle did as she was told, placing the phone to her ear. “Hello?...No, this is her mother, but I’m happy to give her a message…Oh, hang on just one second, I need something to write with.” Isabelle picked up her purse and rummaged through it for a moment, eventually adding, “Well, I’ve found a pen; now I just need some paper.”
Jenny’s eyes widened. This would have been so much less painful if she’d just taken the call herself.
“Okay, I’ve got it,” Isabelle finally said. “So what was the name again?...And how do you spell that?”
Jenny gripped the steering wheel.
“Okay, what’s the number?” Isabelle scribbled down on the paper. She repeated the number, which had an unfamiliar area code, before saying, “I think I’ve got it. Thank you so much young man. You have a good day.” She then turned to Jenny. “How do I hang this thing up?”
Jenny took the phone from her mother, ended the call, and stuffed it back in her purse. “So what was that about?”
“It was a man calling to give you Derrick Stratton’s phone number.”
Jenny’s irritation subsided quickly. “Spectacular,” she said with a smile. “I know what I’m going to do when I get home.”
“The area code implies he lives in the Seattle area,” Jenny announced as she regarded her computer. She glanced at the clock and then turned to Rod. “What time would it be in Seattle right now?”
“Five-thirty,” Rod replied.
Jenny considered the time. “Well, I’m going to take a chance that he’s available. Worst case scenario I leave a message, I guess.”
“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Zack said as she headed toward the bedroom.
Jenny felt every one of her nerves tingle as she dialed the number. She wondered if making these unexpected phone calls to strangers would ever get easier.
“Hello?”
“Hi, may I speak with Derrick Stratton please?”
“This is.”
After a quick exhale, Jenny began in a professional tone, “My name is Jenny Watkins, and I’m working on a case involving Brian Morris in Hargrove, Tennessee. It is my understanding that you know Brian, or at least you did once upon a time.”
“Yeah, I know Brian,” Derrick said. “We were friends when we were kids.”
Now that she felt comfortable that Derrick wasn’t going to hang up on her, Jenny’s demeanor relaxed. “Unfortunately Brian’s found himself in a little bit of trouble.” She paused a moment and softly added, “Actually, a lot of trouble.”
“What happened?”
Jenny clenched her hand into a tight fist and rested it against her forehead. “He killed his father.”
Jenny listened to the long period of silence on the other end of the phone, waiting for Derrick to absorb the message. Once she felt she’d given him enough time, she continued. “I’m trying to show that it was self-defense, but so far Brian’s been unwilling to admit that his father was violent. I was wondering if you had seen anything when you were kids that would provide evidence that Brian grew up in an abusive household.” Jenny knew the answer to that question; she just wanted to gauge Derrick’s willingness to disclose it.
Derrick let out a snort. “I saw plenty.”
With an involuntary smile, Jenny asked, “Would you be willing to come out to Tennessee and testify to that if it came down to it? Right now Brian’s facing murder-one charges, and I’d hate to see him spend the rest of his life in jail if he was truly just defending himself.”
“I’d love to help out,” Derrick said. “But I don’t know how feasible that is. I imagine a plane ticket to Tennessee would be rather expensive, and driving would take too long. I can’t miss that much work.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Jenny said. “I can buy you a plane ticket.”
“Are you Brian’s lawyer?”
Jenny bit her lip. “No, I’m not his lawyer. I’m a psychic.”
“A psychic?”
“Well, I guess medium is a more appropriate word. I receive messages from the dead, and I recently have been contacted by Brian’s mother, Patricia.”
After a long pause on the other end of the line, Derrick whispered, “She’s dead?”
There was so much Derrick didn’t know. “Yes, I’m afraid so. I believe Aaron Morris killed her about eight years ago.”
“When she went missing,” Derrick added.
“Exactly,” Jenny noted. “I don’t believe she was ever truly missing. I am under the impression that Aaron killed her and just staged it to look like she’d been kidnapped or had decided to leave the marriage.”
“I was always under the impression that she’d had enough of her husband and left,” Derrick confessed. He seemed genuinely saddened. “I mean, there’s always that thought in the back of your head that maybe something more sinister had happened, but that stuff only happens in movies, you know? I didn’t think that Mr. Morris
would have actually killed her.”
Something about the term Mr. Morris made Jenny sad.
Trying to remain professional, Jenny continued. “Unfortunately, I think that’s what happened. During her contacts, Patricia has informed me that she’d been drowned, and she led me to this marshy area where her remains were found. While I didn’t see Aaron as being the perpetrator of that particular attack, she’s clued me in to some other scenes where she clearly let me know Aaron was abusive. I can’t help but think that Aaron was the person who held her under water.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Derrick confessed.
Jenny braced herself for a potentially difficult conversation. “She also showed me one particular scene where Aaron really lost his temper.” She swallowed and continued. “You were involved in that vision. I saw you running out of the house, just as Patricia was approaching. There was a lot of commotion coming from inside the house, and you looked very scared as you were running away.”
“I remember that day,” Derrick whispered. “It was the angriest I ever saw Mr. Morris.”
“Well,” Jenny began. “I know what he was angry about.” She winced as she prepared for vehement denials, arguments, or a hang-up.
They didn’t come.
“Because he caught us kissing,” Derrick stated flatly. “My God was he ever furious.”
Relief washed over Jenny. “So you openly admit that’s what happened?”
“Oh, yeah,” Derrick said matter-of-factly. “I’m gay. I don’t try to hide it; I’ve been out for years now. My partner and I have been together for a long time, and everyone knows we’re a couple.”
“I’m really glad to hear that,” Jenny said genuinely. “But I’m afraid that Brian isn’t quite so willing to come to terms with it. In fact, I have the feeling that his homosexuality, or at least bisexuality, may have led to the argument that ultimately ended up in Aaron’s death. But I can’t even get Brian to admit he’s homosexual, let alone the fact that his father used to beat him for it. I think he’s afraid if he claims his father was abusive, people will try to figure out why he was abusive—and then Brian’s secret might get revealed.”
“As much as I hate to hear that,” Derrick said, “I can’t really blame Brian for feeling that way. As long as I can remember Mr. Morris spewed messages of hate. He had a derogatory term for just about every minority group out there. I used to feel funny about it, even before I realized I might be a member of one of those minority groups he despised so much. I was raised in an atmosphere of tolerance; words like that were simply not used in my house. And then I’d go over to Brian’s, and his father would throw around those terms all the time.”
Jenny thought for a moment about how awful it must have felt for Brian as he began to realize he was one of the very people his father spoke so poorly about. What a conflicting adolescence that must have been. “Well, unfortunately all those years of Aaron’s brainwashing have taken their toll on Brian. I think he’d rather spend the rest of his life in jail than admit he’s homosexual…and this is actually another place where you come in.”
“Oh yeah?”
Jenny chose her words deliberately. “I’m not exactly sure what happened between you and Brian—why you stopped being friends—but I can’t help but think that if you went to visit him in jail, you might be able to get through to him better than I ever will.”
Derrick let out a chuckle. “What happened between us was that Brian wouldn’t even look at me after that day his father caught us. We’d been best friends for years—and romantically involved for a few months—but after that Brian acted as if we’d never even known each other. That hurt me more than you could ever possibly know.”
Jenny hung her head. “Well, I don’t think that was Brian’s decision as much as it was Aaron’s. Patricia let me in on what happened after you ran out of the house that day, and I assure you it wasn’t pretty.”
“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t. And as an adult I understand why Brian did what he did,” Derrick said. “But as a heartbroken teenager, I had a much more difficult time with it.”
Jenny was so saddened by the notion she didn’t know how to respond. “Well, I’m wondering if you might be able to fly out here—on my dollar, of course—and have a chat with Brian. Perhaps you can get him to see that being homosexual isn’t something to be ashamed of, and if he does admit to it—and Aaron’s violent reaction to it—he has a much better chance of acquittal.”
“I’d love to help out an old friend if I can. Listen, let me see if I can move around some of my appointments so I can free up some time to go out there. I’m gathering that we’re looking at a case of the sooner the better?”
“If you don’t mind,” Jenny said. “We don’t have a lot of time to work with.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”
After some logistics, Jenny concluded her call with Derrick, but she continued to look at the phone in her hand. She was all alone in her bedroom, her privacy being respected by the other people in the house. Perhaps this was her golden opportunity to make the dreaded phone call to Greg.
She pressed the button, feeling a strange sense of disgust when she heard Greg’s voice. “Hello?”
“Hey, Greg, it’s Jenny. Listen, I wanted to talk to you if you had a second.”
“I do,” he replied curtly. “But you’ll need to make it quick. I have plans.”
Jenny squeezed her eyes shut. “Well, I just wanted to make you aware of a new development in my life. I am involved in a new relationship, and I’m expecting a baby in November.”
“And?” he said arrogantly.
“And I just wanted to tell you so that you don’t end up finding out from someone else.”
“Well, you seem to be operating under the assumption that I care, which I don’t,” Greg explained. “You’re not the only one who’s moved on. I’ll have you know I started dating a woman shortly after you moved out.”
Deciding against pointing out that this isn’t a contest, Jenny chose to take the high road. “Good for you,” she replied. “I’m happy to hear that.”
“Well, you have to figure it wouldn’t take long,” he continued. “I teach high school. I work mostly with women. When a math teacher and the coach of the football team becomes single, a lot of those women are going to jump at that opportunity.”
Jenny rubbed her eyes. The sad part was that he wasn’t even kidding. How could she have once found this pompous man attractive? High road. “Well, like I said I’m happy for you. I wish you two the best.”
“Now if you don’t mind, I need to get going. Cindy and I are going out to dinner.”
“I certainly don’t want to keep you. Have a good time.”
Without saying goodbye, Greg hung up.
Jenny continued to sit on the edge of the bed, her brow furrowed from the conversation. Had he really just been that obnoxious? Yes. Yes he had. She contemplated what this Cindy woman must have been like—young, naïve, wowed by the whole aura that goes along with football. That had been Jenny, once upon a time. Part of her wanted to figure out who this Cindy girl was and call her, telling her to run—run fast and run hard—but unfortunately Jenny knew she wasn’t in any position to do that. Besides, people needed to learn their own lessons. Perhaps Greg would teach this Cindy girl the same things he had inadvertently taught Jenny.
Or maybe Greg had genuinely changed. Maybe he had learned that he couldn’t treat women the way he had treated Jenny, and this time he’s acting like he should. That would have been wonderful, actually. Maybe this arrogance he just displayed was simply to mask his hurt that Jenny had moved on so quickly. Deciding to go with this theory to minimize the disgust she was feeling, Jenny headed toward the living room. She was anxious to tell the details of her conversation with Derrick to her family, and she didn’t want to let Greg ruin the excitement for her.
As the night wore on, Jenny grew increasingly tired. Once again she was the first to excuse herself to bed. Part of her wished Zac
k could go to bed with her, but while her mother and Rod were there she decided it was best to maintain separate quarters.
She slid between the sheets, feeling more tired than the day’s events should have made her. After a series of yawns she felt sleep was on its way.
Jenny walked through the front door of Patricia’s old house, hearing the laughter coming from Brian’s room. He and Derrick must have been playing a video game. She smiled, acknowledging how much that friendship meant to Brian and, in turn, how much it meant to her.
She put away the few groceries she’d picked up on her way home, still hearing the happy shouting from around the corner. The noise eventually died down, marking Jenny’s cue to ask if Derrick wanted to stay for dinner. As she walked down the hall, however, she heard Brian softly say, “It’s okay. My mom isn’t home yet.”
The mom alarm sounded.
Curious about what she wasn’t supposed to see, Jenny stayed quiet as she walked the rest of the way to his room. She didn’t hear any more discussion, so she peeked around the door frame to find Brian and Derrick sitting on the bed, their backs to the door. Brian had his arm around Derrick, twirling his hair lovingly between his fingers. The boys were engaged in gentle kisses, clearly inspired by love.
Jenny whipped back around the corner and flattened her back against the wall. Had she just seen what she thought she’d seen? The answer was undeniably yes. Unsure of how else to react, she tip-toed back to the kitchen, hoping that she could deny ever having seen what she’d just witnessed.
She sat at the kitchen table for a moment, still trying to absorb the shock of it all. You knew this, she reminded herself. You’ve known this for years. You’ve suspected Brian was gay since he was five years old. Her nerves began to subside, and as they did, a subtle smile splayed on her face. Her son was happy. He was finally admitting something that she had known for ages. And Derrick was a good kid—an excellent choice for a boyfriend. Perhaps this wouldn’t have been the path she would have chosen for her son, simply because of the difficulties he’d inevitably face in the future, but all in all it wasn’t that big of a deal.